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studioghibelli · 8 days

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the old man and the sea- a joel miller x reader fic

summary: grief is a sacred thing, a nasty thing, a sensual thing. it grips you from the inside until there's nothing left but a void of darkness- a void that can never be filled. joel miller knows this fact very well, and all he wants to do is save you.

warnings: girthed up age gap (college age!reader x 50’s age joel), i’m exploring a new type of writing ok let me COOK!!!! idk i am delusional, reader has hair that at least reaches her neck, cigarette use, this whole thing is basically an allegory for grief and growing but there also a lot of sexy smut soooo yeah. (mentions of death and two brief mentions of suicide, but nothing too detailed.) that being said, smut (f receiving oral sex, soft kissy missionary sex, unprotected piv sex, some 'dirty' talk, etc.)

note: this has NOT been proofread or edited. any mistakes are mine. i just hate going back and editing lmao. enjoy! xx

In the august days of your youth, when the rocky line of the coast line glimmered beneath the flame of the sun, when the foamy waves would pool by your sandy feet, you could remember the towering lighthouse just south of the beach, the way it stood tall and proud, like the statues of Roman soldiers you knew from your school encyclopedias. It was vibrant and alive, no more dead than the clams bubbling beneath the surface of the ocean, no more dead than the bellowing of the whales far off the shore.

You remember how it would speak to you, late at night when you would walk alone, hoping to catch the light reflecting off the tail of a pretty mermaid, hoping that the local legends of talking fish would come poke their heads above the water, speaking to you in riddles from days gone by.

You remember the words of the light which shone strong from above, circling above your head , like the passing lights of a traveling carnival, your eyes caught like a moth roaming towards the flames, lost in the eternal beauty of its golden light.

Come to me, child. Let the lighthouse unburden your pain.

But back then, when you were quick to scare despite your steadfast stubbornness, you never garnered enough courage to explore behind its walls.

Now college had passed, and you moved back home to your parent's rickety beach house, alone behind her comforting wooden exterior. This home. This home that was once so full of life. This home that held warm laughter and late night board games. This home that housed your closest friends and their secrets of crushes and undeciphered dreams. This home where you grew into a young woman full of life and beauty, clever and brilliant.

This home that was now empty.

You had got the call the week after finals.

We're so sorry, they went out fishing and a storm came. We never found them.

Oh, yes.

Adventure pumped through your veins, the taste for freedom like salty water on your tongue. You knew where you got it from, you always had. Your sweet family, your loving parents. Full of life like that lighthouse, full of of love like the sun.

Now they were nothing, and this house was nothing. Those years of laughter and secrets and adventure were nothing.

Nothing.

Your favorite word these days.

Going through belongings and shuffling through old books had taken almost a weeks worth of tears. Hot, tepid, angry tears.

How dare they leave you alone? How dare they forsake you like this?

The thought of crashing water and striking lightning was almost too much to bare.

When the storm had rolled in that morning, you had been tucked away in the alcove of your kitchen, nursing a steaming mug that was more cream than coffee. You watched the droplets of rain paint pictures on the window, you watched nature wring her tears across the fluttering branches of trees, cracking soft splashes across the pavement with each gust of air. Your chest felt heavy with thoughts of them.

Mom and dad.

Mamma and papa.

Perhaps it was in hopes you would feel some comfort, perhaps it was in hopes you would feel whole. If you could just stare out at the ocean that took them, maybe they would speak to you. Maybe those fairytale fish would poke their heads up from the water and exclaim to you how happy your parents were, how they were fitting right in, how they had invited Mrs. Dolphin over for tea last Saturday, and how they were finally warming up to the funny shark that always lurked in the seaweed.

You stood barefoot on the cragged rock, staring out at the roaring waves, with nothing but the lull of distant seagulls and the song of incoming thunder.

No fish. No parents. No Mrs. Dolphin. Just another season of storms and a crater in your heart.

Your throat was raw from all the screaming. You danced to your fight song as you let the rain take you, your clothes felt like skin from how soaked through they were. Heavy drapes of fabric that cemented you in place on that cragged rock. That cragged rock that dripped with the blood of your raw heels, your toes scraped and ruined from the sandy surface.

It was dark by the time the storm rolled out, dark by the time your back found the safety of the sand, dark by the time your hair clung to your neck and became tangled up with the seashells.

There was a glowing orb of light far off in the distance that you could just make out through the hazy fog of your eyelashes, and you realized it was growing closer, the old handle of a lantern creaking through the night.

"Hello?" The voice was rough and unknown to your ears, yet held a certain warmth despite the weariness.

"Yes?" You asked softly, refusing to open your eyes. If you opened your eyes, all of this was real, all of this was raw, all of this was right there.

"Are you.... okay?"

"Yes."

The lantern creaked once more, and you heard the shuffle of fabric as the man leaned forward, pressing his knuckles to your cheek. "You're colder than a reindeer's antlers, girl." His touch was warm, his hand a welcome solace from the rain. "You live around here?"

You didn't want to go back to that house. You didn't want to smell their detergent or see their old clothes. You didn't want to waltz through that kitchen or hear the creak of those old stairs.

Perhaps it was from the way your lip quivered, from the rain or from the cold, perhaps it was from the defeat in your voice, or the weightlessness of your soul, but the man before you knew he had to do something about it. How could he not? You were laying there like a pile of unfolded laundry, and no one else was around to fold it all.

You felt an arm slip behind your back.

"C'mon, stand up with me. On three."

You groaned softly, using a thick arm as leverage as the mystery man helped you stand off the ground. When you opened your eyes, you saw a pair of umber orbs staring at you, tracing over your face, every line, scar, freckle, dent, he was soaking you in like a sponge, as though he wanted to know your face just from memory.

"I'm Joel."

Joel.

He was handsome, that was the first thing you noticed about him. You felt your stomach churn at the feeling, angry you could find him so beautiful, despite the darkness which shrouded over you. Joel was broad and rugged, no doubt rough around the edges. He was adorned with various scars and random freckles, with thick eyebrows and broad shoulders, plush lips and kind eyes- hardened by time, no doubt, but beautiful all the same.

You know you mumbled your name out somewhere along the walk, eyes cloudy with tears. It was a miracle you managed to speak anything at all.

As you neared the lighthouse, you realized just how foreboding it truly was. Its paint was cracking, yet its foundation remained firm, and it towered up into the clouds like a Medieval castle. Behind it's white structure you saw a small cabin, warm light seeping through the misty windows, painting the green grass with splatters of sunshine.

When Joel opened the door, an old dog sitting in front of the fireplace lifted his head, the soft thump of a tail beating against the wooden floors. His fur was gray and his eyes were old, his long fur a mixture of brown, black, and white patches. Like a makeshift quilt.

Quilts. Your mother used to make those.

"That's Moby." Joel explained, setting a kettle on the old gas stove. "Sit down. You're trailing blood." You felt embarrassment creep up your neck, and he must have noticed the way your eyes darted with shame. "No, no. I didn't mean it like that. Let me fix up your cuts. I-.... I wasn't trying to be a dick." He spoke like this was his first time having human interaction in a decade, and by the way he moved, you might have been right.

He fumbled through drawers and cabinets, eventually finding a metal first aid kit that had begun resting at the edges years ago. Joel pulled up a dining room chair in front of you with a loud screech, peering up at you as he shuffled through the remnants of the kit.

"What were you doing out there?" He asked, gently grabbing your ankle. He guided it to his lap, inspecting the raw flesh of your soles.

"Exploring."

"Exploring what?"

"Myself."

You felt his shoulders jerk with a bit of a laugh. Normally, you would not have gone home with a stranger. Normally, you would not have let a random man place your legs on his lap or nurse you up.

But then again, nothing was normal anymore. Normal was home. Normal was family. Normal was homecooked meals and late night board games and sleepovers and secrets and.... well, none of this.

The hot stream of tears threatened the dam that rest just above your waterline. Joel noticed, but he didn't say anything.

His calloused thumb rested on the side of your foot, the sting of alcohol soaked pads causing you to wince.

"I know." He muttered through an unlit cigarette which dangled from his mouth, the lines of his forehead prominent with each movement he made. "There we go. Right one's done. Let me see the left."

You obeyed wordlessly, gently propping it up onto his thigh. He repeated his previous work until that foot was cleaned and patched.

Joel stared at you. The tea kettle behind him was whistling for attention, its top sputtering from the roaring boil of water.

"Earl gray or green?" He asked as he rummaged for two cups, blowing the dust off of one. You watched Joel stare at one of the cups for a beat too long.

"Earl gray." You croaked, blinking hard. You felt wetness by your hand. When you looked down, the black nose of a dog was pressing into your palm. Your fingers found his fur, rubbing that spot right behind his ear that made his back leg go crazy. Who couldn't smile at that?

Moby laid down, his fur a puddle at the base of your chair as he rested his snout atop your foot. You stared at him, welcoming the softness of his body against yours.

"Moby is a sweet dog. He's old. Rarely gets up from that bed." Joel explained, handing you a cup. The words World's Best Dad were fading at the sides. This cup must have been older than you.

"I like him." You let the liquid glide down your throat with each sip, savoring the warmth it provided you. At the first sign of a shiver, Joel had wrapped a blanket around your shoulders.

"Why are you being so kind to me? You don't even know me."

Joel sat back down across from you with a soft groan, the ache in his bones creaking like an old, rusting elevator shaft. "I do know you."

"Have we met before?" Your eyebrow raised with interest, and you looked at him wearily, trying to deduce what he was up to.

"No. But I know what grieving looks like." There was a long pause before Joel decided to speak again. "Were you trying to kill yourself?"

"What? No!" You guffawed, neck snapping up to shoot him a scowl. "Of course not."

"Look. If you walked up on a half dead, soaking wet person on the shore, during the aftermath of a storm, you'd be thinking the same thing." He defended himself sternly, setting his cup down.

There was a thick moment of quietness.

"Those were your parents, weren't they?" His voice was barely a whisper. It floated through the air like smoke off a candle, hitting you in the face.

"Yes."

"It was all over the news. Loads of us went out there, tried to find them."

"They're out there somewhere. Fish food." Your voice was bitter.

Joel didn't say anything. He just sat and stared. You stared back.

It became a ritual after that night. You were over there every evening, usually with a paper bag full of groceries and treats for Moby. You taught Joel how to make Paprikash and Japchae, you taught Moby how to fist bump with his nose (old dogs can learn new tricks), and you taught yourself how to laugh again.

Laughing. Such an odd thing to do in the aftermath of grief. Such a weird feeling to allow ones self to feel after weeks of chaos.

And Joel, he had his uses too.

Joel taught you how to do a fishtail braid, he taught you how to use a fly rod, and what the inside of a lighthouse looks like. Joel taught you how to smile again, he taught you what the feeling of freedom felt like once more.

Summer faded into autumn, and the orange and yellow trees began to paint the prettiest of pictures on the canvas of the coast. It held a certain nostalgia that summer had always failed to do for you, and the promise of apple cider and pumpkin scented candles floated through with every passing day.

It had taken some convincing, but Joel had swayed in to your demands, and you both sat at a tiny table in a tiny cafe, the steaming pumpkin latte swirling between his hands.

"So?"

He stared at it for a moment before meeting your gaze. "It's.... not half bad."

"Well, well, well. Looks like I was right. I knew you'd like it." You smiled through your victory, drinking your own iced coffee.

"I haven't been here in years." Joel explained, looking around at the decorations. Local art, framed photographs, and signed albums adorned the exposed brick walls, the glowing salt lamps on each table bathing the air with warm, orange light.

"You've been here before?" This coffee shop was old, you knew that much, but even when you were younger and frequented its counter with your high school friends, you can't remember ever seeing him here. And this was a small town- you knew you would have remembered his face, despite the wrinkles and grays. He still would have been Joel.

"Over two decades ago. Sarah loved this place."

"Sarah?"

His upper lip twitched at the sound of her name. Joel looked at you with heavy eyes, glossed over with the mark of grief. The kind of grief that settles in to your body as though it's its home, the kind of grief that sits beside you on the couch and never leaves. The kind of grief you were learning to grow beside.

"My daughter."

The air hung above your heads like a rainy cloud, thick and desultory. It fell across your shoulders like a fur coat, and you struggled to shake it all away.

"I didn't know that you..." Words were useless. They always were when it came to matters like this.

Joel drank his coffee in silence, tracing the ridges of the wooden table out with his eyes. "Don't like talking about her."

"We don't have to."

"Yes, we do." His voice was stern as he looked up at you, your gaze connecting. Joel's eyes were far away, searching for something in the recesses of his memory, or perhaps gaining the courage to speak to you.

"I've been alone for over twenty years." His voice was softer than you had ever remembered it being. "And then.... you were there. Just there. Laid out on the shore like a beached mermaid, shivering in the moonlight. I didn't know you... but I knew you. You were me in that moment. I had been you."

Your lips were pressed into a tight, thin line, and you watched as he spoke. There was a subtle shake to Joel's hands as he picked at his thumb nail, a tick you had picked up on the first week you had known him. The bouncing of his knee vibrated through the table.

"I know what grief is. I know the stain it leaves on someone's face. It was all over you.. just-just dripping."

You hadn't noticed the tears welling in your eyes.

Joel reached over, his palm engulfing your cold hand like a blanket, warming your skin up with his touch. He laced your fingers tight in to his own, cradling your palms close between his two hands.

"I know what all this does to a person. How it rots, how.... how it erodes. I knew I needed to help you."

"What's why you took me back to your house."

"Yes. That's why I bandaged you up, that why I made you tea, that's why I let you keep coming back. Because I wanted to help you, because I lov-"

"Are we doing okay over here?" A barista walked up with a smile, a tray in hand. "I'm just going to take these empty cups away! It's such a beautiful day outside."

You managed to shoot her a smile.

As she walked away, Joel continued staring at you, and there was a sense of something..... else in his eyes.

"Lets go back home? To- well, uh, to my home."

You nodded silently, letting go of his hands as you both walked out the door.

There was something unspoken between Joel and you, and it had settled between the two of you over the months. You knew that he knew, and Joel knew that you knew, yet it was never brought up, it was never allowed to spoken out loud. If it was spoken out loud, then it became real, and if it became real, then it would end up being a burden. Or a promise. Or a nightmare. Or a dream. Or a beautiful, welcoming, loving thing that lasted until the day you died.

How terrifying was that?

You don't know when you had started holding Joel's hand, but the walk back to the lighthouse was quiet and chilly.

Because I lo-

His words echoed through your skull with every single step you took along the cobbled path.

Lo, lo, lo, lo. Love? Loathe? Long? Look?

Your chest compressed against itself as your thoughts wandered. You must have been squeezing Joel's hand too hard, or your nails must have been digging into his skin too deeply, because he stopped and looked at you.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly.

"I- um. Huh?"

"You're practically making me bleed with those nails of yours. Are you okay? Thinking about something?"

"Oh, I'm sorry." You muttered sheepishly, gently recoiling your hand away. Joel stopped you, placing it back in the grasp of his own. "I just... what were you going to say to me?"

"Hmm? Say to you?"

"Back at the coffee shop?"

"Oh." Joel shuffled his weight between both of his feet, his eyes shifting to meet yours. His warm, gentle, dark eyes. Those honeyed orbs of warmth that you had grown to love so deeply. Love? Oh, yes. You were certain it was love.

What part of Joel Miller didn't you love? He had rescued you from much more than that shore on that fateful night. Fate. Hell of a thing, that.

Joel squeezed his eyes shut. It was like ripping off a band-aid. When he spoke, he opened them once more, allowing his words to drip off his tongue. They were soft, gentle, they swayed through the tresses of your hair like a breeze through a field of flowers.

"I love you."

And there it was.

Time must have stopped. Your ears rang with silence, the weight of the universe funneling and funneling, closer and closer to your head until there was nothing. No noise. No air. No nothing.

Joel stared at you with a blank expression on his face, as though he couldn't believe what he had just said.

"I shouldn't have... that was- I'm sorry."

You took a step towards him, his hand was still wrapped around your own. You felt the subtle sheen of sweat on his palm, you tasted the tang of metal on your tongue from biting your cheek too hard, too deep, too long.

You knew it as sure as the sun rose in the east, you knew it with every vein in your body, with every hair on your head. You loved him, too.

Oh you did, didn't you? What a fool you were for him. If he told you to jump, you would jump. If he told you to run away with him, you would ask where. Joel Miller had bewitched you, every ounce of you, and you couldn't bare the thought of leaving him, or forgetting him, or even worse- never meeting him.

Some brave rush of courage overtook you, and before you could think you had grabbed his face in your hands and pressed your mouth into his own, nearly knocking him off his feet with the force of your movement. Joel's hands instinctively grabbed your waist, and his back found the support of a stop sign. The tips of his fingers gently dug into your waist, and he held you close and tight to his chest. You could feel the beating of his heart against his torso, pumping and pumping and pumping its vibrations into your own chest, ricocheting through your body as you tasted him on your tongue.

You pulled away only when your cheeks ached, burying your face in to his chest, allowing the smell of Joel to overcome you. He always smelled like the sea air and cotton, sweet and nostalgic against your nose.

"Lets get home." He whispered in your ear.

Home. He hadn't corrected himself. Home.

Joel's fingers refused to leave yours, locked tight as you made it to his house. Moby greeted you with a kiss to the knee, waddling back to his bed with a heavy huff of air. You gave him the bone you always picked up for him on the way there, before turning around to see Joel in the kitchen, a cigarette in his mouth.

"Want one?" He asked as he brought the lighter to his mouth. You walked towards him, nodding. He took the item out of his mouth, before placing it between your own two lips.

Joel watched the way you took the cigarette, the way your glossy lips looked against the white sheen of paper.

"You're so damn beautiful. God, I just..." Joel shook his head as he kept his thoughts to himself, lighting another smoke before tossing the half empty pack on to the table.

"You just what?" Your voice echoed through the bellow of smoke, and you leaned against the counter, challenging him with your words.

"I just... got so many things I want to do to you."

You smiled, alluring eyes beaming up at him as you puffed and exhaled, slowly putting out the embers on the clay ashtray you had bought him months ago. "Like what?" Your words were teasing.

Joel watched you step towards him, and his chest rose and fell underneath the unlit kitchen light. He took in a deep breath of tobacco before flicking it in to the metal sink.

He'd deal with that later.

"How 'bout I just show you, baby?"

Your lip caught between your teeth as you nodded.

Joel had never moved so fast in his life, whisking you off to his room with a loud bang of his door. He had you nearly naked and on his bed in record time, his knee resting between your legs as he kissed you, the hair of his moustache tickling your nose.

He allowed you to grind yourself down on his leg, soft moans flooding in to his mouth as his tongue explored your own, tangling and dancing with one another as his fingers worked the back of your bra. Joel threw the material across the room, your breasts pressing in to his chest, nipples hard and tantalizing.

That was the first time Joel had pulled away. He left a trail of wet kisses down to your nipples, his lips wrapping around the stiff bud. You watched him suckle at your flesh, shivers causing the hair on your arms to stand up. His curls became tangled with your fingers, a leg resting on his shoulder as he adjusted himself, sucking and licking at your tits as though he were starved.

Your sweet melody of arousal was like music to Joel, who finally gathered the strength to pull away from your chest and move down between your legs, his mouth planting a flurry of pecks to your stomach. He hooked your panties in his fingers and tugged them off, large hands resting on your thigh as he spread them.

Joel stared at your pussy, now open and bare for his eyes. It glistened with arousal, the soft pink of your flesh causing his mouth to water.

"Jesus." He breathed out slowly, eyes darting up to your gaze. "You were made just for me, weren't you?"

You felt your cheeks heat up. You were. Oh, God, you were!

His free hand snaked up to yours, and you held it tightly, nervously. His hand was your anchor, tethering you to the ocean floor of his bedroom.

Joel leaned forward, his tongue pressing flat against your clit. You whimpered out once. He sucked it in between his lips. You whimpered out twice. He worked your aching bud until you were singing a song composed just for him, pants of hot, heavy air swirling through the four walls of his room.

He was devouring you. You were his Eucharist and your pussy was his prayer. Joel worked you in ways you had never been worked before, licking and sucking your pussy with the fervor that could only ever be found in a religion. You were his religion. His idol. His worship. His solace.

Oh, solace. What a sweet, sweet thing when it was found in you.

Joel's chin was quickly soaked in your sweet wetness. He would have drowned in you if you had let him.

His tongue pushed deep in to your folds, exploring your most precious pf places, tasting every inch of you like a starved man, like a frenzied man, like a mad man.

You were his. He was yours.

Your hips were bucking, your body like a wild animal caught in a trap. Except you weren't in a trap. You were in his arms. His strong, thick, heavy arms, and ecstasy was overtaking you. His tongue was coaxing you towards an explosive orgasm, the likes of which had never been known to you. Not one so intense. Not one at the hands of a man who loved you.

Joel's grip tightened around your own, his lips sucking at your clit, tongue tapping and swirling, licking and lapping.

You could barely get any warning out before your orgasm rushed through you, thighs shaking with earthquakes of pleasure. Your fingers tugged at his hair, holding his head tight in place. Joel licked you through the height of your euphoria, sucking softly at your bud before you could barely take it anymore, before you had to gently push his head away.

"Joel." You whispered, staring at the ceiling as the white hot heat of your climax rushed over you. "Joel." You spoke it like a mantra. His name was a promise to you.

"Baby?" He climbed over you, weight supported by his elbows, and allowed the tip of his nose to gently brush over yours.

"Take me." You whispered, the palms of your hand moving to his cheeks. They were warm, and you could smell your pussy on his facial hair. You leaned forwards, kissing him, tasting your cum and his spit. A moan tumbled out of your mouth, straight through your teeth.

"Make me yours. Fuck me." You begged, although Joel didn't need any begging.

"Anything for you."

His boxers were off in the blink of an eye, and you glanced down at his cock. Tanned, slightly curved, hanging low and heavy, the mushroom tip gleaming with pre-cum. Your mouth was watering at the site, but his grasp on your chin moved your line of sight to his face.

Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and a soft gasp escaped you at the feeling of the tip of his cock pressing against your folds. He grinded against you, his shaft rubbing up and down the folds of your pussy, jolts of electricity causing you to shiver each time he brushed your clit.

Joel was teasing you. He was making you in to a mess. A mess all for him.

His eyes never left yours. Joel watched you lovingly, noses pressed tight, lips brushing past the others. You were as close as two people could possibly be, and you were unsure where his skin ended and yours began. Stray curls of his hair tickled your forehead, and your chests rose and fell in unison.

"I love you." His breath was hot against your face.

"I love you too-" He pushed his length in as you spoke, stretching out the lips of your pussy, hitting deeper than anything had before. You moaned out a wanton noise you had never heard before, nails gently digging in to his shoulders.

Joel sat there for a moment, heavy eyelids half closed. He was soaking you in, literally, allowing himself to relish in the feeling of being inside of you. Of being one with you.

He had not afforded himself many of life's pleasures. Not after Sarah had died. Not after he had let himself go. He had paced the same shore as you many moons ago, gun in hand, trying to urge himself to just put the barrel in his mouth and pull the trigger. It sounded so easy.

But something had stopped him. Something hadn't let him.

He had wondered, many years after that, why he hadn't done it. He had wondered what could possibly be worth living.

And then he saw you.

In that very same spot, rotting beneath the silver light of the moon.

It was you. Everything had been for you, hadn't it?

And now there you were, beneath him, as pretty as a picture, the embodiment of everything he had ever yearned for, everything he had ever dreamed for. You were everything to Joel, and he was everything to you.

And now there he was, deep inside of you. You were all he could feel, all he could smell, all he could see. You, you, you. The most beautiful thing he had ever saw, the most wonderful thing he could have ever waited for.

The shiver of your body brought him back down to reality. He kissed you deeply, and all you could do was smile against his mouth.

Lucky. That is what you were. That is what you both were.

"You feel so good." You whispered softly, hands gently running down the back of his head, finding a resting spot on the broad stretch of his freckled back.

Joel rubbed his cheek against yours, slowly moving his hips, grinding down against you, eliciting a sweet moan out of you. "Yeah?"

You both giggled in unison, and he watched your eyes shut as he began to pump deep inside of you. The feeling of your nails pinched at his skin.

Joel glanced down, watching his cock disappear into the depths of your cunt, sloppy noises of your arousal filling the air. Your pussy lips looked so pretty wrapped around his length, your wetness looked so pretty glistening off his cock.

You were made for him, and he for you.

"Take me, Joel." You begged, and his movement increased, growing slightly rougher as his forehead met yours, lips pressing together once more.

"God, you're so beautiful. So fucking beautiful. So fucking pretty. You feel so fucking good. This pussy.... fuck. Fuck, I never want to leave it." He was rambling through his thrusts, hand reaching down to rub at your swelling clit.

"Fuck me, Joel. Fuck me." You whined out, bucking up against the touch of his fingers as he fucked you harder in to the mattress.

"You're my girl. You're my beautiful fucking girl. God, you're everything to me. You're my world." His breath was hot against your face as he kissed you, coaxing you towards another orgasm with each rub of his middle finger across your clit.

"That's a good girl. I can feel you getting closer. I can feel that pussy tightening against me."

Your back arched off the mattress as you cried out his name, moaning as his praises filled your ears. Joel rested his face in the crook of your neck, hips slapping in to your thighs as he filled you up with every inch of his length.

"That's my girl, that's it, baby. Cum for me."

You did as he said. There was no use in holding back. As your orgasm rushed through, his own was approaching. Your name tumbled off his lips, the only word he could remember, as he came deep inside your walls. His hot cum filled you to the brim with a warmth you had never experienced, and Joel kept slowly pumping as his high rushed off, as his orgasm died down.

You shivered beneath him, another kiss being planted on your mouth. Then you cheeks. Then your nose. Then anywhere else Joel could get to.

A moan tumbled off Joel's tongue as he slowly slipped out of you, falling beside you before grabbing you and pressing you in to his chest.

"Stay with me."

"I always do." You whispered in to his chest.

"No, stay with me. Permanently. This can be our home."

"Our home." You whispered quietly, nuzzling closer into his body.

"Our home." He established firmly, resting his palm on the crown of your head.

The world would always spin, and sorrow would always lurk. That was how the world worked. That was the way of the universe. When you both awoke in the morning, the pain of yesteryears would still be there. The horrible, nasty tug of old memories and distant lives would always be somewhere deep within you.

The cosmos, however, were full of possibilities. You could have stayed in your parents home and succumb to a darkness greater than yourself. Joel could have drank himself to death or tasted the metal of a bullet. Those waves could have taken you, and he could have never decided to take a walk down to that beach.

There were many what if's.

But right now you were alive with passion, eyes wide and awake with a newfound love. The bitterness had gone, and something much brighter and better was waiting for you in the future.

Beside you, Joel Miller sat puffing on a cigarette, smiling at you through dreamy eyes. The sheen of sweat was still glistening across his chest, and the gentle smirk on his lips reflected the tales of a lovesick fool.

"Ready to go again?" He asked cheekily, handing you the smoke.

You took it with a smile.

For now, grief would have to wait.

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icaruspendragon · 4 months

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was telling my therapist about how i've always used books, fanfic, and storytelling as escapism but now instead of me consuming stories, stories consume me. dalton gave me The Look (the one that means he's gonna say something i need to hear but don't want to) before asking, "you know that snake that eats itself?" to which i said, "yeah, ouroboros." and he replied, "i didn't know he had a name, that's cool. anyway, you're the snake. i know you've convinced yourself the consumption is filling, but it's not. when it's you you’re eating, it's destruction."

like yeah i know that’s not what the snake represents and ex-cowboy-turned-combat-vet-turned-trauma specialist dalton probably does not know the exact symbolism behind it but like. jesus christ man did that to lay me to waste at 10:30 on a wednesday morning.

and even though he hurt my feelings with the truth, it did put it into perspective for me.

it’s not levity’s lighthouse guiding me to port when depression’s darkness and anxiety’s turbulent waves make it difficult for me to sail smoothly on my voyage.

it’s not a way to alleviate my symptoms, it’s a manifestation of them.

it’s a compulsion, deceptively insidious when cloaked in distraction’s pseudo-warmth. when easily covered by procrastination’s much easier to swallow explanation.

and i’m sure you want to say “but reading is a healthy coping mechanism!”

and it is. when done in moderation.

it’s no longer coping when your screen time is 16 hours a day. when 12 of those hours a day are spent scuttling about ao3 on all fours. when you sit in the same spot on the couch for hours on end with your head buried in the sand. when it’s literally all you can think about.

the consumption isn’t coping. isn’t creation. isn’t reconstruction or rebirth or reformation. it’s chaos. it’s compulsion.

it’s cannibalism.

#your therapist ever rock your shit so thoroughly it sends you into an almost-existential spiral on a wednesday

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ohisms · 4 months

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↪ 𝑺𝑬𝑻𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 , updated . ( a collection of various settings meant to inspire drabbles or be used as prompts . )

001. the seaside , as the sun is setting .

002. a cabin in the middle of the woods .

003. a picket-fenced home in the suburbs .

004. a dark bus stop lit only by street lights .

005. a private jet miles high in the sky .

006. a funhouse’s room of mirrors .

007. an office building , bustling and busy .

008. the back row of an empty movie theater .

009. a run - down motel room .

010. a loud house party on a suburban street .

011. a university lecture hall during a class .

012. the rooftop of a very tall building .

013. a great ballroom during an elegant party .

014. the back of a wailing ambulance .

015. the wine cellar of a large mansion .

016. behind the school’s gymnasium .

017. a boisterous bonfire at the lakeside .

018. an otherwise empty parking lot .

019. the shady bar of a noisy , dark club .

020. the grounds of an empty summer camp .

021. a large hedge maze , easy to get lost in .

022. a neglected or derelict treehouse .

023. a spacious , light-filled meadow .

024. an underground illegal fighting club .

025. an abandoned scrapyard .

026. a large penthouse overlooking the city .

027. an apple orchard in the middle of spring .

028. an empty playground with squeaky swings .

029. an extravagant greenhouse .

030. the base of a large waterfall .

031. a spacious walk - in closet full of lovely clothes .

032. a solemnly quiet hospital room .

033. the dark depths of an abandoned mine .

034. the deck of a fishing boat at night .

035. the thick crowd of an audience at a show .

036. a long , winding road .

037. the scene of a violent crime .

038. a fork in a hiking trail deep in the wilderness .

039. a cramped dressing room .

040. a dusty antiques shop full of relics .

041. the street of an unfamiliar city at night .

042. between the tall shelves of a thrifted book shop .

043. a building abandoned during construction .

044. a house without power or running water .

045. a mysterious trail found in the woods .

046. the back of a taxi stuck in traffic .

047. the inside of an elevator that won’t move .

048. fairgrounds during a large event (or after hours) .

049. a garden bountiful with flowers or produce .

050. a childhood home or bedroom .

+ 30 more setting prompts : 1 / 3 / 2024

051. the site of a horrible accident .

052. a closed pool , after everyone has left .

053. a home holding horrific memories .

054. by the side of a dangerously quick river .

055. a private hotel room .

056. a police station in the middle of the night .

057. a ferris wheel carriage under a sky of fireworks .

058. a lavish , invite - only party .

059. a public transit stop as rain is pouring down .

060. the back of a taxi going in the wrong direction .

061. the underworld .

062. a dusty , forgotten attic .

063. on the set of a television show or movie .

064. a lighthouse overlooking the raging sea .

065. in a post - apocalyptic bunker .

066. on a ship hundreds of miles from the nearest coast .

067. on the rooftop of a perilously tall building .

068. a tent pitched in the middle of the woods .

069. a crowded stadium during a football game .

070. the morgue during an identification .

071. an otherwise empty library during a late study session .

072. a place that feels familiar , yet you've never been here before .

073. a long hallway that seems to stretch on forever .

074. a signpost at the start of a hiking trail .

075. a bar or tavern bustling with life .

076. the dance floor of a masquerade ball .

077. inside of a car parked in a secluded area .

078. at the edge of a cliff overlooking a large lake .

079. inside a very old house with very old haunts .

080. the antiseptic interior of a space station .

#i'll add more eventually #just had to repost this time cos the old post wasn't in beta :/#inbox prompts #setting prompts #rp prompts #rp memes #inbox memes

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psychedelic-ink · 8 months

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𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍

pairing: lighthouse keeper!joel miller x mermaid!reader

genre: mermaid AU, explicit, fluff, comfort, romance, minors dni

word count: 8.5k

summary: As the man responsible for operating the lighthouse, Joel lives a solitary life on the isolated coast. He has no complaints, enjoying the hauntingly beautiful songs that echo from the sea at night. One stormy night, he rescues a mysterious mermaid tangled in a fishing net. As you recover in the lighthouse, the two form an unlikely bond and find comfort in each other's company.

warnings: mention of joel from time to time visiting a brothel, loneliness, mermaid anatomy things, oral (fem receiving), piv, touch starved!joel and reader, mild breeding kink, squirting

a/n: full disclaimer I made up the mermaid lore, facts and anatomy, the only mermaid romance book I read was goddess of the sea by P.C. Cast and I read that all the way back in high school so I remember very little of it (I think I remember some of the steamy stuff but honestly it's all very vague so if there are any similarities that's why) 🧜‍♀️🌊

**stunning gif made by fanna aka @pedrorascal 💙

When in darkness look for the light.

Joel heard this at different points in his life. His father, bless his soul, adamant about reminding him that there was always good to be found, even when it didn’t seem like it. When his father passed, Joel thought of the words endlessly. The more he thought about them, the more it made less and less sense to him. What was one supposed to do when the light that was sought didn’t exist? It would’ve made more sense to him if the message was about creating your own light, not depending on another. He would make sure to remember that if he ever had kids.

The lantern in his hand groaned upon placing it on the nearby windowsill. It was a small window, the glass coated in thick dust. He smelled the sea. The salt of it burned his nostrils, the taste lingered on his tongue.

With a practiced hand, Joel reached for the oil lamp, its polished brass surface gleamed in the fading light. He carefully opened the reservoir cap and began pouring the clear, fragrant oil. The room filled with a faint scent. He listened to the waves as he lit the lantern, creating the sole light that guided him up the lighthouse. Joel imagined the violent waters hitting the bedrock. With time, they would all turn into sand. He looked up. The stairs were endless, going round and round. He spotted seaweed and mold in the same places, observed the humidity that darkened the underside of the stairs that barely hung onto the walls.

The small flame on the wick grew, casting an amber light that illuminated the inside. Joel's eyes focused on the growing flame, his gaze steady as he watched the light take hold.

“I’m home,” he said freely, his voice echoing. On the contrary belief, Joel actually had a regular home. He had a stove, a fridge, a bed. But this... this always felt like his true home. The smells, the sounds, the atmosphere, all of it was familiar, hugging him tight as soon as he stepped inside.

He climbed the stairs, his knees starting to ache when he was halfway to the light room. He didn’t stop, only slowed his steps. The air was fresher at the top. More breathable compared to where he was not moments ago.

He reached the top of the staircase, his breaths coming in steady rhythm as he pushed through the burn in his knees. The narrow corridor opened up into the lantern room, and he stepped into the circular chamber.

Joel reached for the mechanism that controlled the rotation. He gave it a gentle turn, feeling the gears engage beneath his touch. The light began to move, its beam sweeping across the darkening sea. The room filled with the rhythmic cadence of the light's rotation.

But that wasn’t the only thing that reached his ears.

A melody that flowed like the ebb and flow of the tides called out to him, guiding him to the clear, towering windows of the lighthouse. Every night he heard it, yet never managed to see the person—or thing—responsible for it. For years it had accompanied him. Another friend that the sea had gifted him to fight the loneliness he felt from time to time. His nose nearly brushed the glass, a chill settling in his bones. Sometimes he thought he heard lyrics as painful as the song itself.

Joel’s brows furrowed when he noticed the thick fog settling above the water. No matter the light he put out into the world, it would be a hard night for captains and crew.

The cadence still heavy in his ear, Joel stepped away from the panes. He picked up his log book and took a seat. He grimaced when the chair groaned under his weight. Joel had placed his desk so he would still have a view of the sea. The brine-laden air filled his lungs as he ruffled through the pages.

Picking up his pen, Joel began to write.

Lighthouse Keeper's Log: Joel M. Date: October 22, 18XX Weather: Heavy fog blanketing the coastline, strong easterly wind, temperature 58°F. Lighting Operations: Lit the lamp at 18:30 hours. Due to thick fog, visibility greatly reduced; light rotation pattern altered to emit one long white flash every 20 seconds. Despite challenging conditions, light remains steadfast in its duty. Vessel Sightings: Limited visibility makes it impossible to spot distant vessels. Unusually rough seas observed, even in the absence of a clear storm. Large waves breaking against the shore; powerful surges felt within the lighthouse. Remaining emergency supplies: Blankets, dry rations, and signal flares. Remarks and Notes: The fog is a thick shroud, obscuring the sea beyond the immediate coastline. The normally serene cove now a theater of restless energy, waves crashing against the rocks with an almost primal force. An eerie beauty to the fog and the untamed sea—a reminder of nature's might and mystery. Life at the Lighthouse: Dinner of canned beans and bread awaits. Appetite normal.

Joel chewed the inside of his cheek. He tapped his pen against the worn paper before resuming taking his notes.

Heard the song again. It always sounds like it’s in longing for something more. I’m starting to think I’m making it up from my own loneliness. But I can’t really complain much I picked this life.

He let out a groan. There was some comfort in knowing no one would read these but he didn’t want to sound like a crazy person if someone did end up stumbling across the notes.

Joel leaned back in his chair, extending his legs. His muscles hummed happily at the stretch. He still had to check and make sure what supplies he had left to put in the log, he also needed to make sure no additional repairs were needed. He dragged a heavy palm down his face. Why the hell didn’t he check when he entered the base? Now he had to go down all those stairs again. He loved the lighthouse but hell, he could do with less workout.

With a sigh, he got up and left the room. He descended the narrow spiral staircase that wound its way down into the base of the lighthouse. He carried a lantern to light his way, its feeble glow dancing against the walls. The sound of the crashing waves outside gradually faded into a distant rumble. His unease grew as the melody disappeared completely.

Joel knew the lighthouse like he did the back of his hand. But that didn’t mean the structure even spooked him from time to time. It wasn’t easy being alone in the dark, watching the endless horizon just wondering about life. Hearing the aria subdued those thoughts— the thoughts that made a convincing point that he’s lived an empty life.

Reaching the bottom, Joel stepped into the dimly lit chamber that housed the mechanical workings of the lighthouse. Gears and mechanisms stood in silent vigil, their intricate interplay hidden beneath layers of metal and shadow. The steady tick-tock of the clockwork echoed softly in the confined space.

Setting the lantern on a nearby table, Joel approached the massive gear assembly responsible for the light's rotation. He ran his fingers along the metal surfaces, feeling the vibrations as the gears turned in precise harmony. His trained touch could detect even the slightest irregularity.

A toolbox lay open on the table, its contents glinting in the lantern light. Joel selected a wrench and began to carefully tighten bolts and adjust connections. He moved with the grace of a musician tuning an instrument.

As he worked, his thoughts shifted to his guitar at home. He wanted to play again. Perhaps accompany the song he heard every night. His fingers weren’t as they used to be. It took time to remember how to move them over the strings, the cords, it frustrated him, making it easier to give up as soon as he touched the instrument.

The lantern's glow flickered as Joel adjusted the final cog, ensuring that the gears meshed flawlessly. Satisfied with his work, he stood back and observed the assembly for a moment, watching as the clockwork continued its patient dance.

Then. . . a sound.

An unfamiliar sound. It was followed by a frustrated shout and some wild splashing. Joel stood still, his spine stiff as they came. He thought the sea was playing tricks on him, which was why he remained there. Listening. The sound repeated itself, some colorful curses flying out of the mouth of whoever lingered outside of the lighthouse’s walls.

Joel promptly headed for the door. Whoever it was, it sounded like they needed help. His mind raced. It could’ve been a multitude of things; a shipwreck that led hald conscience crew to the shores, a kid playing past their curfew, a—

. . . a woman entangled in a net.

What?

He stilled, eyes wide with shock. All air was expelled from his lungs, mouth incredibly dry despite the chill that quickly settled in his bones. He blinked over and over, his mind trying to comprehend the sight before him. Waves crashed around her, framing her while she fought against the stubborn net. It’d been a while since Joel was in close proximity to a woman. He wasn’t a hermit, but most of the time he kept to himself, and when he needed a release provided from something other than his hand. . . he earned enough a month to spend on certain services.

She was beautiful. Her back bare and her front hidden, looking like a starfish washed a shore. She struggled again and with a snarl, she flipped over.

Joel’s cheeks warmed, the night chill that settled in his bones quickly dissipated thanks to the sight before him. As if to accommodate the moment, a particularly large wave washed over her, drops of salty water wetting the cuffs of his pants. She only wore a bra—at least that was what Joel assumed it was. It was the same color of a brewing storm, silver that gradually softened as it disappeared into her skin. Stunning.

He swallowed. Temptation fogged his mind, his cock becoming stiff under the thick fabric. He was only a man after all. Joel knew little that could resist someone like her, she was hypnotic. With another swallow, his gaze moved lower. He wondered if the rest of her was just as revealing.

But the rest of her was hidden by the vastness of the sea.

For the better, he thought, cock straining against the zipper. He wouldn’t have touched her, of course, but it would’ve made it harder to think.

And to help her.

Joel's gaze finally met her face, which was equally as beautiful as the rest of her, despite being the target of her unwavering glare.

“Ahoy,” he said, voice thick. His greeting did little in wiping away her untrusting stare. “Uh. . .seems like you’ve gotten yourself in a. . . bind.”

“Funny,” she answered, her voice the complete opposite of the statement. Wrestling against the net, a hiss escaped her lips the moment she tried. “Are you going to help or just make puns, human?”

Human?

Joel raised an eyebrow, being caught in a net would be annoying for sure but it shouldn’t be hurting her. He tilted his head and came closer. She regarded him like a wild animal, her need to flee evident in her eyes. He sighed. “Don’t give me the coyote look, I’m not a canine.”

“I’ll look at you however I want to.”

She moved and when the net brushed against her skin, she winced in pain. Pulling her arms close to her chest, she made an effort to keep from touching it. This time the pain was evident over the contours of her face, prompting worry to cross over his.

“Stop movin’,” he ignored her sharp tongue and knelt next to her. “Is that a barbed net? Shit. We need to cut you out.”

Another wave. A scream.

Panic flared under his skin, without telling her to wait, he jolted inside of the lighthouse. He rummaged through his toolbox and when he came back, Joel noticed the trickle of blood going down her cheek. “Don’t worry,” he said quickly, his body collapsed onto his throbbing knees. “I’ll get you out.”

Her stare grew gentle as he meticulously severed the ropes. Joel's attention was drawn to the cuts and bruises that marred her. He didn’t even know her name but he knew that he hated seeing her like that. So hurt and vulnerable. Another wave washed over them. Joel snarled at the sea, his annoyance growing at the wickedness of his greatest love.

“The name’s Joel,” he grunted and moved down her body, freeing her inch by inch. Her spine turned as rigid as a plank. “Am I hurtin’ you?” he asked, stopping momentarily. He looked up but she wasn’t facing him.

“I-It’s not that,” she said. All of her bite from before had dissolved like foams upon the sea. “My. . .lower half got caught up badly when I tried to break free. It—It might be too gruesome to see, so just give me the cutters and you can go.”

Joel scoffed. As if he would let her do this by herself. “If you’re hurt that bad all the more reason to stay and help you, honey. Just stay still.”

“But—”

“Stay still,” he ordered. Joel spread his finger across her lower back. He was surprised to find her skin so cold. He needed to free her and wrap a blanket around her ASAP.

One by one, he cut through the net, more of her exposed to him. It almost felt like he shouldn’t be seeing such a sight. It didn’t matter though, he’d help her no matter what— he’d decided on that the first moment he laid his eyes on her. His hand moved downward, pinning her to the spot, maintaining her still. She let out a gasp, one laced with fear. Joel didn’t understand why.

He shook his head and pressed on.

Only when he lowered his gaze back down did he feel it. The smooth, leathery texture of her skin. It was slippery, soft. . . scaled. It took his eyes a moment to process. Subtle around her waist, the color became more pronounced as it extended downward. Scales. Beautiful scales that shined under the moonlight. It was the same color as her bra, gray that cheated its way to a light shade of blue. Joel swore he saw some gold scattered in there as well.

He stopped moving—hell, he stopped breathing.

“You noticed,” she said simply. Joel’s head snapped towards the voice, the tips of his ears red.

“What—” he shook his head. “Are you a fuckin’ mermaid?”

Silence.

“. . . maybe.”

“Don’t pull my leg, girl,” he warned. The words didn’t match his tone. Joel was simply in awe, his mind more of a mess. “I can see your damn scales as clear as day.”

“Then why are you asking?” she snapped. “Could you please just help me out? It hurts.”

“I was just curious,” Joel grunted, voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t say anything else and continued in silence. When she was free, he threw the net toward the lighthouse. He would discard it later. “Now what?”

“Now,” she answered, the first smile gracing her lips. “I leave. Thank you.”

Joel couldn’t deny the selfish throb of his heart. He had so many questions he wanted to ask. He wanted her to stay—wanted her to want to stay. With him. Why was that he didn’t know. A cold gust of wind blew while he watched. The mermaid turned to swim away, and as she did Joel didn’t miss the small tell tales of pain.

He saw blood. It turned the sea into a nasty color. The words clawed up to his throat, he pushed them back as much as he could.

Stay.

He wanted to shout but couldn’t. It wasn’t his place.

Luckily, fate was on his side tonight.

She couldn’t move her tail, every movement like knives into her meaty flesh. The waves slowly brought her back to shore, like a gift.

Her, however, didn’t share his enthusiasm. Tears built in her eyes, again, Joel could swear he saw golden specks in them.

“I have a place,” he said. “A secret place you can stay until you heal. I have supplies.” when she didn’t seem convinced, he added. “Let me take care of you. Please.”

A male. A human male.

A man.

The notion still escaped you, his hands one of a gentle giant’s as he carried you down the treacherous steps. He didn’t attempt to steal your gaze no matter how long you stared at him. And no matter the pain, you couldn’t stop. There was a roughness to his features, his appearance rugged with lines deepened by time drawn over his face. You observed the grays in his hair, in his beard. Witnessed the divot in the middle of his bottom lip, so full for a man seemingly unbothered by what you were.

No matter how strong or wise, to see a creature that was believed to be none other than myth must’ve come as a shock.

But you remained silent.

So did he.

You settled on observing your surroundings. Nestled beneath the weathered stone foundation of the lighthouse, smooth walls resided, etched over centuries by the relentless caress of the sea, glistened as if adorned by a myriad of precious gems. The low ceiling, curved and worn, hinted at the gentle erosion that had sculpted this intimate haven.

The passage meandered downward, its narrowness opening into a grand expanse that drew a gasp from your numb lips. The chamber widened into an awe-inspiring grotto. Stalactites and stalagmites formed natural columns that reached toward each other as if yearning for an embrace. The rhythmic lullaby of waves filtered through unseen crevices.

At the heart of the chamber, a crystalline pool shimmered in shades of sapphire and emerald. Slender rays of moonlight, filtered through a labyrinth of underwater tunnels. An intricately woven nest of dried seaweed laid upon the surface, the smell of it reminiscent of home.

However, you weren’t one to lower your guard so easily. No matter how pretty the prison was.

Still in his arms, you shoot him a look of untrust. The fingers that gingerly held you tensed, blunt nails slightly digging into your wounded flesh. “Don’t give me that look,” he grumbled, averting his gaze. “It’s connected to the sea, you can leave whenever you want. . . or escape, if you would prefer to put it that way,” he walked to where the sea connected to the earth. “It’s completely closed off to the outside. If someone wants to find this place they’ll have to go into the lighthouse first and well,” he turned sheepish, red coloring his cheeks. “No one does.”

“That’s kinda sad,” you remarked. You didn’t ignore the twinge of sadness coiling your heart. “You don’t have a family?”

“No,” he answered. You didn’t expect to hear the rasp of his voice, the same tone when you dragged your finger through the rough gravel of the shores. He still refused to meet your gaze. “So. . . you’ll be safe. You don’t need to worry.”

Joel gently lowered you into the sea, his legs half-submerged in the water. As salt touched the wounds, an incoming hiss grated against your throat, and pain bloomed, spreading through your tail.

You discerned the sound of his pulse racing beneath the cloak of his human flesh and bone. When you turned to look, you found him both mesmerized and distressed.

“Can I bring you medicine?” he frowned when your gaze turned into one of amusement. “What? Don’t mermaids need medicine?”

“Not for something like this,” you grinned. You thread your fingers in the water, careful not to move your tail as much as you moved to lay face first on the shore. “The sea will heal me. It hurts, but the wounds aren’t big enough that it would require external help.”

Defeated, he shook his head, “If you say so, sweetheart.”

You watched as he balled his hands into fists and released them. He repeated the motion over and over until he prepared to leave. Your eyebrows raised. He wanted to take care of you, ached for the companionship the close proximity would force upon them. Surprisingly, you felt bad. You’ve seen this lighthouse a million times, never once you thought such a sad man would be on the other side of cold walls. You sucked a sharp breath and decided to throw him a bone.

“I will need food,” you called out, stopping him in his tracks. His shoulders raised, you swore if he were a dog his ears would be standing with attention. You swiped a tongue over your bottom lip, a bit of life in them now that you were in the water, he had a strong back, wide shoulders that any creature would admire.

“What d’you eat?”

You smiled, “Anything really. I’m not picky.”

He turned then, he seemed so large in front of the narrow path that would lead up to the lighthouse. “What about fish?”

“Unlike what your fairytales might entail, we do eat fish,” you answered with a burst of laughter.

You laughed again when the crease between his brows deepened. He wrinkled his nose, “Feels wrong.”

Despite his words, he looked lightened by your laughter, something like adoration swimming in his eyes.

You shrugged and shuffled further into the water. It signaled the end of the conversation, prompting Joel to disappear back into the depressing labyrinth of the lighthouse. With a sigh, you turned your back, staring at the ceiling. You wondered how long you’d have to stay here. You had wrinkled your nose at the medicine that was offered, yet you knew it wouldn’t be a speedy recovery.

You sighed again, disappearing into the water. You watched as the last of your oxygen formed bubbles that head to the surface, your gills starting to expand. The image of the stalactites became distorted, the moonlight that touched the soft waves bouncing around in the water.

You really shouldn’t be complaining. At least the human who found you seemed to be a good one unlike the many you’ve seen during the centuries you lived.

The ache in your tail growing tender, you closed your eyes.

Joel, despite his imposing ruggedness, was quite nurturing. As the day passed, you noticed that he began to regard you with a sense of purpose. He went back home during the days, only to come back with heaping amounts of food and water.

He never did bring you fish though, which made you giggle whenever you thought of it.

“You don’t drink water.” Joel had said it as a statement rather than a question. You nodded and pushed a plump grape between your lips. The salt from your skin coated the fruit, highlighting the flavor.

“I don’t.”

“Is there somethin’ else that you drink? I can try to find it for you,” he said thoughtfully. His eyes met yours, your grin making him short of breath. He looked away, something that he commonly did whenever he was frustrated. And you noticed how easy it was to rile him up whenever you stretched, the sheer scales that covered your breasts almost sheer. You thoroughly enjoyed his gaping mouth and lustful gaze. You wondered when was the last time this man was touched.

"Drinking water, as you know it on land, is quite different for me beneath the waves," you explained with a playful glint in your eyes. "You see, our world is a delicate balance of salt and currents, and our bodies have adapted to it."

You gestured gracefully to the shimmering water around you, your tail swaying gently with the motion of the still water. "When I need water, I don't sip from a cup or a stream. Instead, I have a connection with the sea itself. Just as your body knows how to breathe without thinking, my tail and skin allow water to flow through."

"Imagine this," you continued. "In the embrace of the ocean, my body senses the ebb and flow of the tides, the salt and minerals suspended in every drop. When I need hydration, my skin and scales absorb the sea's essence, drawing it into my very being."

You leaned closer, lips an inch away from his, your voice a mesmerizing cadence. Joel’s breath hitched, his chest expanding with each word whispered. He licked his lips, your eyes dropping to observe the movement. You imagined that same tongue sinking into your mouth, licking the salt. A shudder crawled up your spine, your breasts feeling tender and heavy. "So, you see, I drink in a way that's in tune with the rhythm of the sea, a silent conversation with the waves themselves. It's a connection, a dance of existence that ties me to the world I call home."

“Do you miss it?”

The question took you by surprise and you blinked rapidly, “What?”

“Your home?”

“I—” Such a perceptive man. It surprised you. “The sea is my home. I’m never apart from it,” you said, shaking your head. A soft smile touched your lips.

“What about where you were born?” he pressed. “Your family? Friends?”

“So many questions,” you hummed. And, with a burst of confidence, you touched his cheek. Him leaning into the touch was something you hadn’t expected. “I’m not to go back.”

“You were banished?”

“I left.” it looked like he was about to ask more. Before he could, you pressed your thumb against his lips, feeling his warmth, his whole body grew rigid but didn’t pull away. “Too many rules,” you explained. “Not a very fun place to live.”

With a graceful flick of your tail, you returned to the water, leaving a glistening trail of droplets in your wake. You vanished beneath the surface, you waited a moment and look up. There he was, leaning further into the water. Trying to capture a glimpse of the mythical creature he was nursing to health—

Propelling yourself with a force gentle enough that wouldn’t re-open the wounds, you broke through the surface and wrapped your arms around his neck. He let out a yelp as you pulled him under, bubbles caressing your bodies, rushing to escape the sea. Joel’s eyes went wide, panic lingering in the depths. You met his gaze and smiled, his heartbeat was muffled yet loud under the water. In order to calm him, you placed an open palm right above that frantically beating heart, closing your eyes, you willed your emotions over him. Calmness. Serenity.

You’re safe with me, Joel. The only one of your kind that can say that.

He heard you. You watched the panic melt away from his gaze, replacing it with shock. Normally, if he was a merman himself, he’d be able to answer. Something tugged at your heartstrings, your gaze falling to the depths of the water.

You felt his hands cup your waist, instinctively pulling you closer to him. He was firm, warm against your chest. To be touched. . . you missed it. Like he did when you cupped his cheek, you nuzzled closer to him. Your breasts flushed over the planes of his body, your nipples tight as they grazed against the fabric of his shirt.

Warmth.

You chased it. Ached for it. He seemed to be the same. His fingers denting your flesh, his arousal hard over your stomach. You would’ve allowed him anything in that moment. For him to kiss you, hold you, fuck you— you’d grant him anything, like a genie in a bottle.

But, nonetheless, he was human. And humans needed air no matter how strongly they fought against it.

His eyes became apologetic, brows furrowing. He gestured up and you shook your head, prompting confusion to cross his face.

Mermaids were known to take human lovers. They would usually transform once a month to head for the shores. No one wanted to share more of themselves than they had to. Their world was a secret to be kept, an unspoken rule they all knew since birth. Looking at him, you knew he was at his last drops of oxygen. His cheeks were puffed up, eyes questioning your motives.

Evolution had granted your kind one more gift—the gift of life.

Your hands slid up his chest, your fingers bunched the collar of his shirt, you tugged the fabric. The sound of the currents flooded your ears. You felt your gills expand. Joel was unaware, he brushed your lips together, eyes coming to a close.

A kiss. A simple kiss.

His lips parted alongside yours, his tongue curious. You met him halfway and slanted your mouth over his, closing the gap entirely.

You breathed air into him. Filling his lungs with oxygen. Your gills quivered at how much was needed for him to make this moment last. His chest dilated and Joel finally opened his eyes. With a smile, you pulled back, dragging your lips down to his neck instead. Slightly embarrassed of what he might think of it.

His fingers curled under your chin, pulling you back up so you’d face him. You laughed when Joel attempted to ask his questions with nothing other than his eyes.

You didn’t answer this time, only shrugged. His lips broke into an exasperated smile and despite the lack of it, you felt the air around you crackling, arousal pouring between your legs and mixing with the sea.

Joel pulled you towards his lips once more. Eager for another taste.

She was sleeping.

Joel’s steps were feather-light as he approached her, his guitar in hand. He’d foolishly mentioned how he was trying to remember and her eyes had gone wide with excitement, asking him to bring it over. But since she was sleeping, he decided not to bother her with it and gently placed the instrument aside.

He asked about it once, how her kind slept, apparently, they would drift to sleep underwater most of the time. That’s where they felt safest. He didn’t pry on the matter but could hear a hint of hurt lingering under her words.

So, when he first saw her sleeping, his heart had warmed at the sight.

Right now was no different. His gut felt oddly warm, his heart swelling in his chest, everything feeling a bit too tight.

They hadn’t talked about the kiss—or the touches for that matter.

Again, he hadn’t pressed for answers. He wasn’t sure what good they would do anyway. They were a part of different worlds, different species, how would it work?

Joel tilted his head to the side.

Seriously how would it work? She didn’t have. . . well. . . a vagina. At least not one he could see.

Did she lay eggs?

Joel blanked at the thought. They drank like fish so who was to say that they didn’t procreate like them too?

He violently shook his head. He shouldn’t be thinking about that, it was none of his goddamn business. With his mind feeling clearer, his eyes roamed over her sleeping figure. She was a silent sleeper. Her hands were tucked under her head, most of her tail submerged beneath the water, flowing freely with the soft ripples of water. All he wanted to do was to kneel beside her and stroke her hair, her body that seemed soft and supple.

Joel managed to do half of what he wanted. He took a seat near her, the gravel crunching under his weight, her breathing more audible now that he was close.

It’d been almost a month since he found her entangled within the nasty fisher’s net. He didn’t know how long it took mermaids to heal but he had a sneaking suspicion that she had. His mouth dried, a sudden uncomfort riling his stomach. He was afraid she was staying here for his sake. To spare his feelings. That notion just didn’t sit right with him. It was unfair to her, and, in some ways, it was unfair to him. He didn’t believe a creature like her would want to stay with an old man like him. He had nothing to offer. No land, no money, no nothing.

Only the lighthouse.

The kiss had been one of convenience, he told himself almost every night, stroking himself while replaying the moment over and over. He hadn’t visited the brothel since. None of them could compare to how she made him feel, and he doubt he’d go even after she left.

“You’re thinking loud,” a murmur came from next to him. She stirred and flipped to her back, eyes finding his a second later. Joel could see her dreams still glimmering in her eyes, adding a shine. Her brows furrowed when his gaze lingered longer than it should have. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he answered. “I brought the guitar.”

“Really?” she was suddenly wide away, her upper hand lifting and tail splashing as she came to a sitting position. “Will you play for me?”

Despite himself, he grinned, “That’s why I brought it, sweetheart.”

He reached out and picked it up. When he returned, he caught her eyes on the exposed skin of his stomach, her lips parted. Briefly, her gaze found his.

“I—um—” she looked away, bottom lip sucked between her teeth. “I know some songs so maybe I can join your playing.”

Something flickered inside of him—a familiarity he couldn’t quite place.

“That sounds lovely,” he balanced the guitar over his lap and strummed a couple of strings, their sound filling the cave. His gaze expectant as he looked back at her. “Go on now, don’t be shy.”

She puffed her cheeks, huffing with annoyance, “That’s not fair, I said I would join you, not the other way around.”

“You’re breakin’ my heart,” with a fixed gaze, his eyes grew soft and he smiled. “Please?”

With a sigh she shifted closer, her tail swaying with an elegant fluidity. Her voice, when it finally graced the air, was hauntingly beautiful—a melody that seemed to bridge the gap between the human world and the mysteries of the sea. The lyrics spoke of lost homes and forgotten dreams, of endless depths and aching hearts. It was a song of longing and solitude, a mournful tale that seemed to capture the very essence of her existence.

As she sang, Joel's fingers moved deftly across the strings of his guitar, weaving his own notes into the fabric of her song. The cave's quiet embrace amplified the sound of his guitar, each note resonating against the walls. The music swirled around them, an unspoken conversation between two souls who had found an unexpected connection.

He watched her, the soft glow of the cave reflecting in her eyes as she sang. Her voice carried a weight that tugged at his heart, stirring emotions he had long kept buried.

Without thinking, Joel's voice joined hers, his rough yet tender tones intertwining with her song. As their voices merged, the cave seemed to come alive, the walls reverberating with the bittersweet harmony of their duet.

In the midst of the music, a memory began to surface—the melody she sang felt achingly familiar. He strummed the guitar with increasing fervor, his fingers dancing across the strings as he tried to match the rhythm of her song.

And then it hit him—the realization that sent a shiver down his spine.

It was her.

The sound that accompanied him every night.

The sound that kept him sane.

The sound that made him feel less alone. Less broken.

The sound of an old friend.

It was her. It had always been her.

Joel suddenly stopped, his eyes wide and lips agape as he just. . .stared at her. She was lost in her song, only noticing the loss of the soulful sound of the guitar moments later. Joel watched her blink with confusion, on edge, thanks to his gaze. “It’s you,” he rasped, voice hoarse. “You’re the song.”

“I’m. . .what?”

Wanting her to understand as soon as possible, Joel began humming the melody every part of him had grown accustomed to. He went on until her features shifted from confusion to recognition, a hand coming to cover her mouth.

“You heard me?” she whispered.

“I did,” he swallowed. “Every night.”

Joel didn’t waste any more time. He held her gently by the neck, feeling her pulse as he crashed their lips together. He licked himself deep into her mouth and tasted the sea on her tongue. Her hands limply pawed his chest, bunching his shirt between delicate fingers.

Her moans were even more beautiful than her song.

He couldn’t get enough of it. His mouth devoured her, eating her alive with every fat swipe of his tongue. Her moans were swallowed by him. She was pliant, body trembling against his, desperate in the way she allowed herself to be consumed. Her breath stuttered as he cupped her breasts, the scale that covered them slowly sinking into her skin, leaving her bare to his tongue.

Joel wanted no time in lowering himself, sucking the pebbled flesh between his lips. He swirled his tongue and nipped her with sharp teeth. She thread her fingers through his hair, pulled him closer. Joel looked at her between heavy lashes. Her breathing was frantic, her heart like a hummingbird’s in her chest. He pushed her tits together, dragged his tongue quickly from one swollen nipple to the other, she threw her head back with a wanton moan, the sound bouncing off of the walls.

He felt the sting of her nails on his shoulders. Her trails thrashed against the calm waters and his one hand slid down to where the scales began. Joel never felt them properly before. He cupped the area where her ass would be if she were human, the pads of his finger digging into her flesh. She seemed to enjoy that. Her body shuddered, her scales growing wetter by the second.

Joel parted from her chest with a pop, his lips were damp and a string of saliva followed him. “How does this work?” he asked, voice nothing but gravel.

Still in a haze, she blinked. Confused. A smug smile tugged at his lips, pride, and cock swelling simultaneously. Finally, when she understood, she took his hand and led it down to her front. Joel didn’t look. He wanted to memorize her face instead, engraving every part of her into memory. As he was preoccupied, he felt it, an opening similar to a human woman’s. She still held her wrist while he explored. He traced the lips, the wetness between them.

Her eyes rolled back when he brushed against the crown of her cunt, a throbbing pearl hidden. “Joel,” she breathed. “Again, please.”

He nuzzled her neck and laid a kiss. “You’re not that different from your human counterpart it seems,” he murmured, goosebumps rising where his lips touched. “I want to eat this pretty cunt out, sweetheart. Let me taste you.”

She nodded hazily, eyes clouded by lust. Joel splayed her over the shore, the bottom half of her tail still lazily moving under the water. He didn’t care about getting wet. Moving down, he straddled her and looked down.

The breath got knocked out of him.

Her hands were on each side of her head above the gravel, her chest raising up and down heavily as she looked up at him, gaze half-lidded. Joel’s gaze traveled lower. Just like he imagined, there was an opening a bit lower from where her tail started. The gaps between the scales had become almost non-existing, accommodating the perfect cunt that’d blossomed for him. It was wet. Glistening. He went down on his elbows, his mouth watering at the sight of it trembling.

“So pretty,” he rasped. “Gonna fuckin’ devour you, honey.”

He pressed his lips hungrily, tongue delving between her folds and tasting her from within. He didn’t separate as he moved his jaw. Her cunt fluttered and squeezed his tongue, begging him for more. Joel obliged, dragging his mouth up and down and purposefully bumping her clit with the curve of his nose.

She was so darn wet. Soaked. He heard whimpers of his name but he was too far gone to grace the pleas with a response. Joel closed his lips around her clit and sucked, applying pressure with a pointed tongue. His fingers joined in on the fun, he pushed them in knuckle deep, scissoring them as he drew circles over the throbbing bundle of nerves.

“That’s it,” he hummed, his breath warm against her core. “Fall apart for me, sweet temptress.”

It was too much, too fast.

His tongue was merciless, his words like a honeyed poison. Your mind was nothing but a haze. The world around you is left spinning. You didn’t remember the last time someone had you like this, so hungry and desperate. All you could do was beg for more. His fingers were thick and long inside of you, pressing harder and harder until he reached the spot that made you see stars.

It didn’t take you long after that. His tongue flat over your clit, you felt your muscles begin to tighten, your scales practically vibrating in answer to the strokes of his mouth.

His hand moved to the side of your face as he increased the pressure with his tongue, making you moan and thrust your hips against him. Your body was his to control and it responded eagerly to each touch, kiss, and lick. As his lips pressed harder and deeper, his mouth moving sloppily, your breathing began to quicken, your heart pounding in your ears amidst the sound of the waves lapping against your tail.

He moaned into your pussy, your ears narrowed on the sound, forgetting all else. Feeling your slick becoming heavy on his tongue, he repeated the sound and your chest heaved, beasts tingling. You could feel your entire body tensing up, your fingers gripping his wet hair for leverage as you shuddered and exploded in his arms. Your muscles tightened and quaked against him as his jaw and tongue continued their wicked work until finally, mercifully, you were released and slipped off the edge into the depths of rapturous bliss. A squirt of wetness soaked them both, filling his mouth and making a mess of his plump lips.

Your world stilled and your eyes rolled back in your head as you lay there in his arms, savoring every second of nirvana that his tongue had so generously gifted to you. He didn’t stop until you were tugging at his hair. Joel did so with a soft growl, his gaze dark as he faced you, a wicked hunger still clouding his eyes. His hair still tight between your fingers, he parted his lips, and a string of saliva fell in a vicious drip from his tongue. You shuddered. Never breaking his gaze, he delved his fingers between the delicate folds and spread the mess he made. Debouched, was the only this you were able to think about.

This man was every bit of hungry as you were.

“Joel,” you whined upon feeling your arousal rapidly building between your legs once more. “I want to feel you.” you swallowed. “Want your cock.”

“Say that again, sweetheart,” he groaned. “Convince me how bad you want it.”

You weren't sure what to do, but you humored him anyway. Crunching up, you met him halfway in a wet kiss. “I want you to split me into two, Joel,” you whispered into his lips. “Want to feel the stretch of your cock. Want to feel that it’s real. I want you to fuck me so good that you’ll be spilling out of me as you take me again,” you dragged your lips down his throat. He was shaking. “Again,” a kiss. “And again. . .”

“Fuck,” he moaned. “So filthy for such a pretty thing.”

“Joel,” you whispered, ignoring him. You cupped his cock through his jeans and began to stroke him. His forehead fell to your shoulder, hips canting shallowly into your wanting palm. “Prove to me that humans can fuck just as well.”

You’re not sure what it was—Jealousy? Pride? Whatever you said that got under his skin, you were glad.

Joel pinned you to the gravel, his rough hands sliding from your shoulders to your waist. He stroked where the scales began, sending tremors and tingles up your body. He freed himself of his belt with one skilled hand and pulled out his cock. The tip glistened, precome still oozing from the tip. Your mouth watered. For a human, he was rather blessed. He eagerly stroked himself over you, his cock jutting from his fist. You warmed at the sight, slick wetting the inside of your thighs and adding to the mess. You couldn’t help it. There was just something so incredibly erotic about a man fucking his fist. It felt so primal. So instinctive about it.

He pushed into you with a clipped groan, the movement almost punishing. Your insides clenched and all the air in your lungs seemed to desert you by the force of the thrust. Looking down at you, Joel smiled. The curl of his lips menacing and taunting. He pulled back agonizingly slow before he was rutting back into your spasming hole. You let out a sound between a hiss and a moan. His glee only seemed to heighten when you held on to his biceps, grounding yourself against the rock of his hips.

“What’d you say, sweetheart?” he said, tone laced with venom. You were in a thick haze of lust, your mind finding trouble understanding his words. When you couldn’t answer, he slammed harder into the tight fist of your cunt. Your body drooled all over him and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. “Can humans fuck?” he said cruelly.

Your mind was scattered. Especially when he sucked a nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing over the sensitive flesh. His fingers began to move down your tail where the scales were most sensitive. Joel didn’t know this. As he skimmed a line back up with blunt nails, he was taken aback to feel you gripping him tight, slickness flowing from you like a broken fountain.

Your lungs burned. Your body nothing for of aflame. A strangled moan left him, the tightness of your cunt forcing him to slow. “Holy shit,” he moaned, jaw slack. “What the fuck—” His eyes went to meet yours only to find you hidden under your hands. An adorning smile grazed his face. “Hey, look at me,” he said and rolled his hips as an incentive. A short breath parted your lips. You lowered your hands, eyes tearing as you met his gaze. “Why so embarrassed darlin’? That was fuckin’ hot.”

You didn’t answer. Not enjoying your silence, Joel again grazed your scales with his nails. He nearly came when you squeezed around him again, forcing the hitch of his breath. “You like when I do that?” he murmured.

“Y-Yeah,” you answered. “They become sensitive during intercourse.”

“Interestin’,” he hummed, looking down to where his cock was still buried deep. Keeping your hips pinned, he pulled out and grinded his cock over your tail instead. Your eyes grew wide from where it was glued. He made a delicious mess of the scales, slick and precome staining the vibrant blue and gray. Pleasure rippled across your tail and your brows furrowed, your expression melting in bliss.

“I could stare at your face forever,” he muttered. “I don’t think I ever seen such a fucked out expression.”

Heat gathered under your cheeks but honestly, you couldn’t really focus on it. Joel slipped back inside of you, despite how wet you were, you could still feel him stretching you wide. And with every wild thrust, he managed to get deeper and deeper. His cock pulsed, fingers now a constant pressure on your sensitive tail, “Gonna come,” he moaned, eyelids fluttering. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him close until you felt the entirety of the man’s weight.

You wanted to feel him dripping out of you and you made your message clear by holding him in place. He was vocal where his face was buried in your neck. Tongue and teeth abusing the skin. His movements were rapid, the sound of skin against skin echoed, cock pressing hard into your heat. He fucked you until he stole his third orgasm from you, it felt like a jolt of electricity, your slick coating his length and dripping down. It was so overwhelming that you bit where his neck met his shoulder. You ignored the fact that this marked him as yours, and that the mark of a mermaid would last for weeks.

Joel didn’t mind the pain. In fact, it spurred him on. He whined into your skin, hammering until he spilled into you, filling you until it was spilling from where he was stretching you. The way you fluttered and clenched was too much for him, he fucked his come back into you, hearing it make those sloppy wet gushing noises against his hips. He drove his hips forward until there was nothing left of him. His moans bounced off of clenched teeth.

And when your arms fell back to the gravel, limp with pleasure, he stopped.

You sighed happily at the touch of his lips over your heated skin. He kissed a trail down to your breasts, kissing each one, his softening cock slipped out of you and he went lower. Kisses and licks on your stomach and lastly one placed on your trembling mound.

Your hands hastily pulled him back up for a long, lazy kiss. It was full of emotion, each swipe of your tongue conveying something else. Gratitude, pleasure, love.

“You’re healed aren’t you?” he murmured against your lips.

“Yes.”

A beat of silence.

“Now what?”

“Now,” you sigh. “I leave.” A humorless, bitter chuckle left your lips. “But I really don’t want to.”

He answered almost immediately, “Then don’t.”

Joel pulled back to look at you, his gaze warm like the sun dancing above waves. You let out a sigh. Just like the sun, the look was also blinding. “I can’t live in this cave forever.”

His brows drew together with confusion and you worried that perhaps you accidentally said something else. He shook his head, “Who said anythin’ about livin’ in this cave?” Joel’s lips curled in amusement in answer to your shocked expression. “You were already livin’ close to the lighthouse, weren’t you? You can come and visit. And I can visit the shores more often, As long as you’re not on the other side of the sea, we can be together.”

He looked at you expectantly, and when your silence grew, so did his doubts. “Right?” he asked.

“Right,” you repeated. You giggled at his relieved expression and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I don’t know why I just assumed I’d have to live here. Like some sort of weird prison.”

“Hmmm,” Joel smiled dragging his nose down from your temple to your cheek. He pulled you close and you laid your head over the expanse of his chest. “I guess I just fucked you that good.”

“Don’t get so full of yourself. I was just taken by surprise.”

“Sure, honey,” he answered, smile widening into a grin. “Whatever you say so.”

(i made this moodboard before fanna's stunning bday gift to me which is the gif above but I adore this mood board so I decided to put it here thank you for reading xx)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x mermaid!reader #mermaid!reader #mermaid au #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller x fem!reader

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violet-butterflies · 8 months

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❥︎ yandere! Merman

❥︎ Warnings ! ☞︎︎︎ sexual harassment, kidnapping ( male yandere! oc x gn reader ) Click to see part 2 and a nsfw spin-off !

It was a dark and stormy night when you first met the merman. You were a lighthouse keeper on a tiny island that was not densely populated. The people that did live on the island were mostly fishermen that lead a peaceful and simple life. However, this night was not peaceful. The storm was roaring and the tides were filled with rage.

You simply went to town to buy a few things and maybe grab a drink with the friendly residents when the storm picked up, forcing you to retreat inside a cave near the sea. You thought it was dangerous since the cave could be flooded when the tides were high but the thunder and lightning seemed even more dangerous since you were walking around the beach with no trees in sight.

You expected to be bored inside a moist and salty-smelling cave but what happened was far from what you had expected.

Inside was a beautiful and ethereal merman who stared at you with wide and scared eyes. He had long white hair that was decorated with seaweed and pearls. He had nothing on, showing off his well-toned body. The most unbelievable part was the fact that instead of legs, there was a long and shimmering silver tail that was covered in scars and a fin that looked like it had a hole in it.

You awkwardly tried to approach it, trying to not scare the merman but failing since he started to thrash in the small pool of water in the cave.

"Shh, shh, shh... I'm not gonna hurt you," you said quietly and gently. The merman must've sensed that you meant no harm as he let you come closer.

The trust only grew when you spent the night, trying to help treat his injuries with the very minimal supplies that you had.

The next few weeks, you'd come and accompany the merman inside the cave. Not only that, you'd come and bring him food and books to show him. Your days mostly consisted of nothing before sunset when your job actually starts anyways so you had plenty of time to spare. Of course, you kept his existence a secret since you didn't want to bring any harm to your new friend.

It was odd though, his wounds have long healed but he kept lingering in the cave. You were on your wits end as you didn't know what he wanted and he can't speak English. You tried teaching him but, you weren't sure if it was because he was half fish, but he was not the smartest being.

You were about to stand and leave the cave to do your job before the merman snatched your hand and pulled you into the water with him. Startled, your body froze as the merman smiled when he looked at you. He hugged you and began to kiss your neck. Not only that, he began clawing at your clothes as he gave you a passionate kiss. You eventually snapped out of it before biting the merman's tongue hard to surprise him into letting you go. You quickly swam back to land and looked at the water with wide eyes. The merman looked at you with a look of surprise and desperation as he tried to go on land to take you back into his hands.

That obviously didn't work though since you ran out before he could even begin to get his whole body out of the water.

You didn't bother coming back to the cave since you felt scared and confused at the incident.

The merman basically forced himself on you but on the other hand, he was a mermaid that probably didn't know anything about human knowledge or consent. Still, though, you felt uncomfortable and it was probably better to leave him alone so he can go back into the ocean.

You didn't expect to ever see him again until you saw a familiar figure flopping on the beach just in front of your secluded lighthouse. In an instant, your eyes went wide as you rushed out to the merman before anyone sees him.

As soon as you came into the merman's line of sight, his eyes lights up and began trying to flop faster towards you.

"What are you doing here?! You can be here!"

"I... I sorryyyy" the merman attempted to say with a slow and dragged accent. You can't help but feel surprised since you didn't expect him to remember anything you tried to teach him.

You somehow got him back into the ocean and as you turned around to go back to shore, he pulled you down into the ocean with him. Deeper and deeper until the ocean covers your senses.

#tw: yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #male yandere #lovesick #yandere merman #yandere merman x reader

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lightbluetown · 5 months

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i saw some people say ed and zheng are master strategists while stede is just some guy with ridiculous luck, but i think that's unfair. sure stede's ideas are insane, but they fit the looney tunes ass universe of ofmd perfectly. they're mostly well-thought-out, well-executed and they showcase stede's strengths and growth! so allow me to talk about them:

1- ghost of the forest - 1x02

a fuckery™ before stede even knows what a fuckery™ is! this is amateurish and stupid in every way. he's not even threatening izzy with a real dagger-- that's a letter opener. does izzy actually believe that stede has a huge crew hiding behind the bushes? doubt it! but this weird little act is enough to establish stede as a (ridiculous) pirate figure to the legendary izzy hands and to accomplish his goal of taking a hostage back

2- lighthouse - 1x04

imagine coming up with the exact same idea at the exact same time as the most brilliant tactician of the seven seas! we don't know who came up with which parts of the plan (honestly it was probably mostly ed) but this is still bloody impressive

3- stark revelations - 1x05

stede's first big success! he uses his knowledge of the aristocratic world to get a shipful of rich assholes to destroy each other, but he's also showcasing what sets him apart from them: this plan only comes to fruition because stede talks to frenchie, olu and abshir as equals. as people he can learn from, as sources of inspiration

4- duel with izzy - 1x06

this one was absolutely unhinged, but its success was far from dumb luck. only stede could think of using a brazillian cherry wood mast and ed's weird stabbing lesson to win a duel, and that's what makes this plan so undeniably stede and brilliant

5- faking his death - 1x10

i love that he just had to "die" in the most dramatic way possible. a heroic fight (tiger), a realistic accident (carriage) and the most cartoony death in the book (piano)... not only is his triple-death able to convince everyone in barbados that he's dead for good, it also allows him to have closure with his family. it's filled with stede's ridiculous unique flair, but it's designed to be a fuckery™ through and through. ed would be SO proud

6- stealing jackie's indigo dye - 2x01

quick little stealth mission. did ricky manipulate stede into trying this out? sure. did ricky also ruin it? absolutely. but it was working until then! the swede isn't part of stede's crew at this point, but his respect for stede is what gets him to cooperate and risk his relationship with his beautiful wife. also, it's thanks to his love for fine things that stede immediately recognizes the value of "blue dirt"

7- prison break - 2x03

in my eyes no scene depicts stede's growth better than this one. knocking zheng's entire crew out with tea is the most stede thing out there, and this plan uses the cherry wood mast as well! this plan relies on stede's (unrealistic) tea knowledge, overly-fancy ship and ability to coordinate his crew. what makes it breathtaking is that he secretly sets this plan into motion while actively mourning the "death" of the love of his life. he's putting his life on the line to rescue ed's "killers" because he's emotionally mature enough to look at things from their perspective and forgive them

8- inciting a mutiny - 2x06

yet another brilliant plan that could only be executed by stede. this entire episode revolves around his idea of "turning poison into positivity" and here he, well, fights poison with positivity. stede captains his pirates with respect and care (best he can) which just so happens to be the opposite of ned. he exploits this and gently gets ned's crew to turn on him. he singlehandedly saves himself and his entire crew from a notorious pirate! oh he also literally invents walking the plank right after this

9- "it's only suicide if we die" - 2x08

okay, yes, this one didn't go that well (sorry iz). but it's not like ed, zheng or anyone else had any other ideas! stede's weird suicide mission, for the most part, worked. they needed to get through british soldiers to reach their ship and they did exactly that. if only they'd remembered to check if ricky had his gun... oh well, you live and you learn

sure, ed and zheng are legends and stede is a silly newbie with wild luck. but he's also quick-witted, creative, confident and brave! he's a damn good captain and he deserves to be recognized as a good strategist!

#ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #ofmd meta #i love my boy so much i will not let anyone disrespect him thank u #🏴‍☠️

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comfortless · 4 months

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*ೃ༄ Some thoughts on a lighthouse keeper König with a fem, harpy reader! 18+ MDNI.

Signing away months of your life for routinized labor comes with little internal protests for him, he’s done it before with military work. He’ll do it again without question; anything, anyplace to keep him away from a house that’s never felt like home.

König’s blessed with an abundance of skills and the strength to perform hard labor. He’s disciplined enough to embrace the solitude, maybe even thinks of this contract as a reprieve from other people, from creature comforts and the hustle and bustle of ordinary life.

He packs only the bare minimum for himself— clothing he doesn’t mind lantern oil spilling onto, thick books ranging from myth to histories, a trusty hunting knife he’s been keening for the time to polish and sharpen to bring back to its former glory. Food and shelter are already provided for him in a cabin battered by sea breeze and saltwater just a bit too small for a man his size mere paces from the pillar of light that he’s resigned himself to tend to.

Each day is spent checking systems, keeping the haunting yellow light clean and functioning well, jotting down weather readings, and meticulously keeping things orderly. The occasional sound of a boat’s horn would bellow out, as close to a voice calling it’s thanks as it could get from his self-sought isolation. The ocean is lively enough for him, anyhow. The sight of a whale a short distance off shore isn’t an uncommon one, pods of dolphins flipping up into the air like performers, a show just for him. Even the sky above is a sight with flocks of birds he could not name passing by, or sea gulls flying high above only to ground themselves on the rocky shore to cock their heads at him; he imagines that if they could speak their small, shrill voices would ask him ‘What are you doing here?’, and he’s thankful he would never have to answer.

Each night, he reads. The bed is a bit small for him, a cot, really. He has to curl in a way that makes him feel like a dog left to waste away outside, knees nearly tucked to his chest and an elbow propped to keep his head up while he turns to pages of his books. He always wakes to his head resting on a page, the scents of old ink, amber and cedar fill his nose when his eyes flutter open.

He makes himself simple breakfasts, the scent of black coffee lingers throughout the cabin each morning. Occasionally it’s bacon, occasionally eggs in a basket, something as simple as his life has become. He thinks about his days of war when he walks to the shore with his mug in hand, wistfully watching the waves, haunted and volatile, so very much like the ocean of his eyes.

It’s never quiet. The gulls call from above, their wings outstretched as they sail through the air, and the waves make raucous noise as they crash against the rock, wearing down every fine point to something softer. A part of him longs to be worn down too, to pry that aching from his heart, the scars tarnishing his body, the callouses on his hands, dissolve them all in dark, salty waters with a gentle ebb and flow. He’s never thought himself to be one deserving of gentle things, but he greedily yearns for them anyhow.

He admires the sea shells that wash up on the sandy patches of the shoreline, some are pearlescent and untarnished, he dares not touch those. The ugly ones with splintering cracks remind him of himself, he’ll allow his hand to reach for those, toss them back into the hellish abyss where they belong. He doesn’t need a reminder of what he is, why he’s here. He wants to surround himself in pretty things that no one can dirty with their fingerprints, not even himself.

A torrential rain breaks up the monotony of his duty for a few days. He’s soaked to the bare bones running back and forth from the cabin to keep the light functioning, wiping away condensation from the glass that confines it and fiddling with the old machinery to stop the massive light from flickering. He holes himself up there, in that old tower for two long, sleepless nights. He imagines ghosts, ghosts of the people he’s killed without remorse dancing at the corner of his vision, taunting him endlessly from purgatory with their frantic dances and unnatural jolts. When he turns his head, their faces are gone, carried away by the ocean breeze that rattled the walls of the lighthouse, yet can not touch him.

He’s hardly able to keep himself upright when the rain finally stops. Addled from a lack of sleep and an ache from hunger, he slinks down the steps to the wet ground outside. There are no gulls fluttering about with their squeals and questions and begging, and for the first time since he’s come here, the water is calm. The sun beams down from a cerulean sky, not a single cloud fattened and gray with rain water in sight.

Only a bird.

König’s taken note of the wildlife since he’s come, all of the sea creatures that would swim about, the pelicans, petrels and gulls that would make their rounds. He’s never once seen a bird this big. It’s wings stretch wide, gracefully flutter to soar higher only to rear back, knees kicked up to its chest in its graceful descent. It doesn’t ground itself to beg him for a crumb of toast or shriek at him, it only perches atop the lighthouse, looking down at him as if exacting some strange, silent retribution.

The bird shifts in place for a moment as his eyes squint to get a better view of it. He’s mesmerized when he takes note of a very human face, soft nude flesh in place of feathers right down to the ankles that house plush, downy feathers and the coarse skin of scales leading down to brutal, curved talons. Her breasts heave and legs tense as she stretches her wings out to take flight. With a single leap she takes back to the air, twirls in it effortlessly as if she’s in the midst of the most elegant, seraphic dance to return to whichever whisper of heaven she descended from.

The most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

The salt and foam must play their tricks, because he’s no where near deluded enough to believe he’s seen an angel in a place like this, that one would think to visit him at all.

Still, he’s an awful bastard, because his cock twitches in demand from the sheer sight of her flying far, far away from him. He doesn’t allow himself to touch pretty things, but god he wants to touch you. He settles for returning to his cot and tugging down the zipper of his pants to rest his length in his hand, slow, deliberate strokes with his eyes closed, bringing himself to ruin from just a fleeting memory.

He chalks it up to sleep deprivation the next morning, a waking wet dream. Even before coming to this little island, it had been well over a year since he had been in the presence of a nude woman. Work quickly makes him forget, keeps his hands tied and his mind emptied of softer flesh and beautiful skies.

She comes back with the next storm, a shivering mess in the rain. A rough gale struck her down and he watched her spin out amongst thick, wet clouds, her form aglow with the backdrop of thunder. She falls to briny water, and without thought he’s left his cabin to dive right in after her, scooping the poor thing up to haul her back to the safety of a warm home, a roof above her head.

König wraps her in the only blanket that he has, feels her gaze on his back while he stokes a fire all for her as she sits and shivers, trying to gather her bearings. Human kindness is unexpected, unwarranted, really. She signals great storms, her talons cruel. He looks at her in awe when she nestles against his shoulder, her eyes locked to his, both faces warmed by the glow of crackling flames and comfort.

He tells her he isn’t worthy of an angel wasting her grace on him. She tells him that nothing sent barreling out of the sky like she had could be as pure as he believes.

#König #Konig #König x reader #Konig x reader #konig x you #könig x you #cod mw2 #so many concepts rattling around like coins in my tin-can brain that i will never fully flesh out

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j0kers-light · 9 months

Note

Joker, but with a virgin reader who barely understands sex stuff cuz they grew up overly sheltered and innocent, so he essentially has to teach them through it and introduce some kinky stuff to them

His Lighthouse: Sweet Girl (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Sweet Girl - Oneshot

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A STORY UPDATE!

Author’s note:

Hey hi anon!! I am so sorry it took me an entire week to fill this request! I got carried away and went down a perfectionist spiral trying to envision Joker in this situation. It was difficult to keep him in character but still caring enough for Y/n who is virtually clueless! I hope you enjoy the story!

You can find part two here!!

taglist:

@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher

Let me know if you want to be added to the His Lighthouse taglist!

You are truly his sweet girl in every definition of the word.

Joker's sweet little doll he so desperately wants to defile. He greatly admires your innocence and the way you view the world. Joker wants nothing more than to continue sheltering you, but he's at his wit's end holding back his passion.

Everyday his patience wanes and it's only a matter of time before he pounces on his prey. You.

He wants to sink his teeth into your skin and hear you cry out in pleasure with every snap of his hips. He wants to see your brain turn off from an overload of pleasure. It's not a want anymore but a need. He needs to break you.

He can't wait anymore and judging by your coy smiles and teasing touches, he knows you want this too.

Although Joker should've known something was wrong since things between you and him never advanced any further than kissing. You would shy away the minute he grabbed your hips or tried to remove any article of clothing from you.

He should have noticed the telltale signs.

Months of hiding at your place in your pink little bubble, far far away from mean old Gotham City, and all that Joker had to show for as process with you was cuddling or making out.

Nothing more, nothing less. It was frustrating for sure.

Joker knew you were attracted to him; he saw it in the way your eyes widened and lingered on him.

You would bite your lip whenever he purposefully let his shirt ride up or whenever he picked you up to show off his strength. He even came out of the shower dripping wet without a towel once— you tucked tail and ran to your room.

Joker was using every trick in the book to get a reaction from you, however; you stayed demure and kept your hands to yourself. It was maddening!

Even at night when the two of you were preparing for bed, (separately, much to his irritation) he'd pull you close and rock his hips into yours.

"Wanna sleep with meee tonight, baby doll?" You would flush red and wiggle out of his arms before stampering out a million no's and vanish from sight.

Joker hated hearing your door slam close but what could he do? He was running out of options.

There were so many clues in front of him regarding this dilemma but the truth finally came to light one day he had you trapped underneath him on the bed.

No more running. No more excuses. He was claiming you tonight.

He was attacking your neck with kisses and actively grinding his hard on into your pretty shorts. The skimpy things you wore around the house tested his limited sanity! Were you trying to seduce him? Bravo, because you succeeded. And he was supposed to be impervious to your charms and be a gentleman. Screw that.

Your body was a prize to be had and Joker waited long enough to have it.

He had the helm of your shirt balled up to your abdomen when you froze. "W-Wait um Joker. I-I.."

"Shhhh little bunny.. I just wanna see ya."

You didn't like that and tried pushing Joker up and off. How did he get you on the bed in the first place you wondered?

Joker noticed your aversion to his touch and growled in annoyance. Every freaking time he tried to get closer with you; you pushed him away. He had enough. He no longer had any patience to deal with this anymore.

"What's the deal, hmm? You don't li-ke me anymore?"

Your eyes immediately locked with his. "N-No! I like you.. it's just..." You wavered.

"Just whaT? Hmm? Tell me bunny! Open that pretty... little mouth of yours and tell me."

You did the exact opposite. You bit your lip and looked away from Joker. Your selective shyness was rather annoying at this point and Joker let his frustrations be known.

"You're such a cocktease ya know that? Runnin' around in these shorts and things making those little... noises when ya think I don't notice. Yeah, I hear em doll. You're killing me but the second I touch ya, this happens!" Joker gestured at you cowering away from him.

"What are ya, some virgin or something?" He sighed to himself. But then he looked down at you in shock when he heard your soft yes.

Oh. He was a f___king idiot.

You were holding back tears and the second Joker realized his mistake and touched your arm, they burst to the surface.

"Ohhh.. Bunny noo. Look at me." You did and shined your e/c at him. "There she is.. my sweet girl. Why didn't you tell me?"

He lied back on the bed and dragged you with him to recline on his chest. You were perfectly fine cuddling with J. Anything else after that was scary.

He couldn't see your face since it was buried in his shirt so you answered him truthfully.

"I.. I thought you knew.." You mumbled. Joker smacked his lips and started stroking your hair. You left it down today and he loved its wild, untamed state.

He really didn't know and he felt stupid for not realizing it sooner and for making you feel uncomfortable around him. He worked so hard in the beginning to make you not fear him. He didn't exaggerate his words as much, he cut down on his fear tactics around you, virtually everything about himself was altered to gain your trust.

You were a timid little thing, eager to help him hide from the GCPD in exchange for nothing. You cooked, cleaned, kept him company (just not sexually) all with a smile on your face. You were so naïve yet brave, of course Joker fell for you!

You laughed at his silly jokes and that smile of yours was worth losing pieces of himself to appease you. He'd do anything to make you happy.

But Joker wanted more. He wanted to be selfish.

He wanted to corrupt your sweet and innocent demeanor and mold it to his will. He wanted those big doe eyes of yours to cloud over with lust and your full plump lips to stretch around his cock as he choked you with it.

He knew you'd be perfect underneath him; you were already such a sweet thing. A true people pleaser; doing any and everything to make his stay at your place more enjoyable.

What he would really enjoy is your pussy milking his cock for what it's worth.

It's all he thought about these days but you couldn't handle him removing your shirt, how in the world would he train you to be his cum-drunk bunny?

But Joker loved a challenge and you... you were worth the hassle.

"I never wanna scare my bunny away. She's so perfect, and oh so sweet. Too sweet.." He kissed you so softly, it made your head spin.

Joker pulled back before things started to get heavy, "But I realllly wanna taste ya more, Y/n. You trust me?"

You looked down and away until Joker chased after you. "No no nooo. None of that. Don't look away. I can teach you if you want."

"Teach me? But what if... What if I'm not good enough?" You whimpered.

That's what you were worried about? He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. This was all in your head.

"Won't know until you try." He sang back. You seemed to understand that much and shifted your weight to straddle Joker more properly. He exhaled through his nose when you unknowingly rocked your hips into his dick.

"Okay. I think I wanna try now. Is that okay? C-Can we try right now, J?"

How could he say no to such a sweet request? You were so embarrassed yet enthusiastic about this, it made him go crazy. He kept his hands behind his head and sighed.

"Depends... How far ya wanna go?" He asked.

"What do you mean? How far with what?"

It took everything in Joker not to groan in frustration. Did your parents not teach you anything about sex? What kind of upbringing did you have to not know anything?

Joker wasn't sure if he could handle teaching you from scratch but everyone had to start somewhere.

"What do ya know about sex, Y/n?"

He watched you squirm and bite your lip. You had to know something to be interested and he would wait to see what he was working with before going further.

"Um.. the doctor at the clinic said it shouldn't h-hurt if my partner um.. p-preps me enough with foreplay. I think that means kissing and cuddling but once she brought out two dolls and started talking about positions I.. she lost me."

Joker was lost too. "Doctor?"

You nodded and wiggled your hips against him. You seriously had to stop doing that..

"I went to get checked after I saw you come out of the shower that day. I got really wet and uncomfortable um, d-down there, and nothing I did made the feeling go away. S-So I panicked and went to the clinic! It was super embarrassing but I think I understand the logistics of it all a little better. Joker? Are you okay?"

You poked his cheek since he looked spaced out and he had every right to be.

Horny. You were horny and didn't know why. Nothing you did made the feeling go away and he remembered back to that night when you trapped yourself in your room.

Just what all did you try? Did you get yourself off? How did you do it?

And then everything clicked. Your lingering eyes, the tiny shorts and flimsy tops. Those f__king thigh high socks... You started wearing them more and more frequently after his little shower stunt. Your body wanted him even if your brain didn't comprehend.

He was gonna have so much fun corrupting you.

In the blink of an eye, Joker had you flat on your back with your arms above your head. You were in shock, it happened so fast.

Joker let out a shaky exhale and looked you over.

"Next time you feel wet, come to me. I'll help.. relieve that pain, mkay? Do you feel wet now?" He asked as he grinded his knee into your sex. You jerked in his hold and winced.

"Um, a little.. that feels funny."

"Describe it to me." Joker purred into your ear. He trailed kisses down your neck to distract you from noticing he was lifting your top up.

Stupid thing wasn't covering anything, it was so thin.

"Ah! I-I feel warm and.. it aches.. but I don't know why. It's almost like there's an itch I need to scratch but I tried that!"

Joker had the brief image of your tiny hands poking and prodding your opening, trying desperately to soothe something only his cock could reach.

"Poor little bunny. Wanna know why it aches mmh?"

He heard you sigh out a yes. By then Joker was kissing your heaving chest and had an idea. Why remove your top the boring way? Nothing about tonight would be normal.

You gasped as Joker tore your top right off your body. Your breasts bounced from the action and Joker groaned seeing them already erect sans a bra. Just the perfect size for him to squeeze and worship. He was drooling already.

He locked eyes with you with a wolfish smile. "Cuz your greedy little pussy wants my cock.

"Y-Your cock?"

Joker groaned and leaned down to suck a nipple into his mouth while his hand got well acquainted with the other. It was so soft and tasted even better, but hearing your surprised moans was the topping on the cake.

You didn't know your breasts could feel so good but Joker's tongue swirling around the bud before his teeth bit it gently, was electrifying. It made the unknown feeling return tenfold.

"J-Joker! It's back! I feel weird again.."

Joker let your nipple go with a loud pop and gave the same attention to its twin but not without subtly rocking his hips into yours. Your wail was torturous.

"No! T-That's not it!" You sobbed even though your hips bucked up to meet Joker's. Something about the motion felt right, but it was missing a key element. Then you remembered Joker's comment.

"Can your umm.. cock fix it?"Joker groaned in pain. You would be the death of him. As if hearing you speak about it, his dick throbbed in his pants.

He looked up at your adorable pout and smiled. "Already using such ahh, vulgar language, baby doll. Goood girl. I knew your mouth was dirty."

He kissed down your stomach until he reached the band of your shorts. You braced your weight on your elbows to watch him. How was your mouth dirty? Did you say something bad?

Never mind that, Joker was finally addressing the problem dead on. "Are you gonna fix it, J?"

He looked up at you, a bit out of breath.

"I will bunny, just not yeT. The doc said I gotta prep you, remember? Don't wanna hurt my sweet girl now do I? Gotta hmm.. tr-eat her right.. Can I take these off?"

He asked so nicely, you couldn't say no. Anything to make this weird feeling go away, you'd do it.

You lifted your hips enough for Joker to slide your shorts and panties off in one fell swoop. Of course you didn't see him pocket said panties for safe keeping, but you quickly grew uncomfortable with the way he stared at your private parts.

Did it look weird? What if he didn't like it? You most certainly didn't. Any personal care was done as quickly as possible to avoid any unnecessary glimpses and you never looked at yourself the way Joker was right now.

He had yet to say anything but his unwavering gaze was starting to scare you. Did he have to stare for so long?

You whimpered and tried to cover your sex but Joker merely slapped your hand away.

"Stop looking at me..." You whined. That finally got Joker to meet your eye.

"Why not Y/n? Every part of you is sooo pretty. I wanna taste it..."

Before you could question the legitimacy behind his words, Joker licked your pussy with a guttural groan. The vibrations it left felt so good, you didn't realize you grabbed a hold of his hair. Joker didn't mind and quickly forgot about you being a virgin as he ate you out like a man on a mission.

"Soooooo sweet.. an' juicy.." He said in between licks.

Joker tuned out your startled babbles and pleas to savor the unique taste of your pussy. Your juices fell on his tongue like ambrosia and he lapped up every last drop that you steadily produced with gusto.

It was an honor to be the first to taste you and Joker pulled out everything in his bag of tricks to take you to the summit. Your first orgasm. F__k he wanted it all for himself.

He flicked his tongue over your clit and ever so gently slid his middle finger inside your cunt.

"Joker!" You screamed.

He chuckled as he eased it in up to his knuckle but met resistance. "Hush now baby doll. I gotta get ya loosened up to take something muchhh bigger than this..."

Something bigger? Your mind couldn't even fathom the thought. You writhed on his finger in a newfound agony until another sharp pain made you gasp.

Joker shushed you and kissed your clit as another finger slid its way into your tight hole. You were doing so well all things considered. Joker let endless praises fall from his lips in between kissing and sucking on your pussy. You seemed to unknowingly enjoy praise, if the fresh flow of juices from your slit were any indication. Joker twisted his wrist so his two fingers slid in deeper to scissor your hole wider. You were welcoming the foreign invasion but he could feel the restraint still lying dormant within you.

With every pump of his fingers, he made sure to stretch them just a bit deeper and a lot wider to further his goal. After a while, you relaxed around his two fingers and seemed to enjoy the new sensation he introduced to you.

He added a third finger even as you whimpered in protest.

"Shhh, you need thissss." Joker angled his fingers in a come hither motion to stroke your g spot directly. You jerked in shock and clamped down on his fingers.

"R-Right there, J..ahh yessss.."

Joker grinned when you practically melted to his touch. That 'itch' you kept going on about was finally being attended to. This is what you craved all along.

But something was happening. A pressure you never felt before was building and you knew it wasn't good.

"J-J..ok— ahh! I feel.. weird. I think I'm mmhph!! I don't wanna.." You cried out.

Joker saw your thighs twitching and grinned. He wondered when you'd get close. "Let it go Bunny. It's okay."

Joker's deep voice urged you on, where exactly— you were unsure of, but he was more knowledgeable than you here. Even though your brain protested the feeling, since the rising pressure resembled that of using the bathroom, you let your body's natural instinct take control.

"Listen to your body, Princess. She knows what's best."

You nodded at Joker's vague words and let the feeling build more and more. You felt hot all over and dizzy yet Joker would not stop until you crumbled completely under pressure.

He kept your thighs spread open and grinned like a certified madman as he sped up his fingers, pumping into your hole until it audibly gushed out. Almost there..

Something was happening within your body that you couldn't comprehend. Your ears were ringing and tears streamed down your face as a white hot coil snapped just underneath your navel.

You felt like passing out, it was so intense yet you moaned as waves of pleasure washed over you.

And Joker drank everything you gave. He watched you die and come back anew right before his eyes and it was such a sight to behold.

You came back shivering and weak but had enough strength to pose the question. "W-what just h-happened?"

Joker left a lasting kiss on your clit before he crawled up your body. It was flush with a sheen of sweat and desire and he showered every inch of it with affection on his travels.

"Did ya enjoy your first orgasm?" He mumbled on your shoulder. "I sure did."

"O-Orgasm? So... I didn't pee?"

Gosh you were so cute, he wanted to ruin you so bad. "Mmhm. NoT quite. You came so hard for meeee. And ya taste so good too, see?"

Joker kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, although he laughed when you jerked back in disgust.

"That's not sweet! More like tangy and salty! Eww.. and you like that?" You said while wiping your mouth clean. You were still convinced you relieved yourself, however the texture was more creamier than liquid that told you otherwise.

"I do. Very. Very. Much." To prove his point, he licked his fingers clean of you while you watched in intrigue. It got you thinking..

"Umm, w-what do you taste like J?"

Joker died then and there. You asked him so casually, was he corrupting you too fast? Of course not. You blinked owlishly at Joker waiting for a response. All he could do was chuckle under his breath.

"I'll let ya have a uhh, taste another day Bunny. Right now, f__k, I gotta.. I need to be inside this pussy. Are ya still itchy?"

You blinked twice before nodding your head.

Whatever Joker did just then was amazing but it wasn't enough to quell the unknown feeling between your legs. You still couldn't form the right words to explain the sensation though. Maybe you could ask Joker about it later. Right now, your fears were bubbling up to the surface as he towered over you.

"You'll be gentle right? It won't hurt?"

Joker sighed before kissing you soundly. He then reached a hand down to check your entrance. You were still wet and you moaned into Joker's mouth at the soothing circles he left on your sensitive bud. "Mmm it shouldn't, Bunny."

Joker stopped rubbing your clit so he could remove his shirt and pants. You watched in awe as his body was revealed to you. Sure you saw glimpses of it here and there but fully bare before you now, Joker was stunning.

How did you get so lucky?

"There's no need to be shy, Y/n." Joker cooed at you.

He noticed you were still hesitant and moved your hands to his chest for you. Seeing your hands on him.. it was a step in the right direction. He couldn't wait to see them wrapped around his cock.

Baby steps though. Today was your first time but if he played his cards right.... Why not go big rather than go home?

With Joker's permission, you caressed the hard planes of his chest and abs, wondering what the large indentation in his briefs was. The second your hand brushed against it, Joker hissed and grabbed your wrist.

Your eyes flickered up to his deep jade in awe.

"Easy there, bunny." He shivered. You tilted your head to the side in wonder until Joker let his cock spring out from his underwear. Your face was priceless.

"I take it, it's ya first time seeing one?"

You subconsciously clenched around nothing and nodded listlessly. Joker snorted and decided to let you explore uncharted territory. You know, get a little bit of hands-on training.

"Go on. Touch iT." Joker whispered in your ear as he guided your hands around his dick. He stifled his groans as your timid touch groped his shaft. J was soft yet hard at the same time and you paled at the thought of it in you.

If his fingers almost made you faint, what would this do? It felt powerful and ominous in your hands and oddly hot to the touch. Veins ran up the length of it and when you looked closer, a clear bead of liquid was oozing out the top. For some unknown reason you wanted to lick it up but second guessed yourself at the last minute.

"Is this.. going inside m-me? J, I don't think..."

"Yes it will." You wondered how Joker knew your exact thought, "I'll make it fit and you'll take every.. last.. inch. Under-stand?"

You jerked your head in a nod and it seemed to satisfy Joker since he nodded back. With that out of the way, Joker let you acquaint yourself with his dick until he grew impatient and batted your hands away. Any more stimuli and he would've cum prematurely.

He couldn't finish before the deflowering party got started. But he didn't calculate the way you were driving him nuts.

"Look at me Y/n. That, uhh, ache you have right here." Joker rubbed your womb affectionately before tipping your chin up with his fingers.

You were on your knees before him, patiently waiting for anything he would give.

"Your mind is still unsure but your body... mmmm, your body knows what it wants. Keep listening to your body, mkay? It's gonna be reallllly scary, and I. Won't. Stop. either, but you have to trust me bunny. Trust that I'm doing this to.. make you feel good. I'm going to ruin your pussy and there's nothing you can do about iT."

Your bottom lip trembled in fear but you nodded at Joker. He wouldn't deliberately hurt you.. right?

"O-Okay.. I trust you." Joker's smile was absolutely feral hearing you surrender to him so easily. You'd regret that later.

"That'sss my sweet girl. So! You're all wet and horny and need to be filled? So achy and needy? I'll help ya.."

Out of the blue Joker pushed you down on the bed and you yelped at the sudden shift in the air. "J? What're.."

"ShuT. Up. You deserve someone who will treat ya right. Mmm, should've picked someone else then. Lemme break you Princess, open up for me."

You didn't like where this was going but Joker did say to trust him. It was going to be scary but you had to trust him. Didn't mean you had to like it. You didn't want him breaking anything of yours!

Before you could turn your head away, Joker already grabbed a hold of it.

"Look at me! I said... spread your legs slut."

If Joker didn't see your pussy glistening with cum, he would have dialed things back but surprise surprise, his little virgin liked being dominated. You liked his meaner side even if your brain couldn't wrap itself around the idea. Joker was over the moon discovering your kinks way before you did.

He watched in glee as you parted your thighs for him. Your pretty folds were glistening like the delicate flower it was. Joker repeatedly slapped his dick on your puffy lips and you jumped in shock with each unexpected smack.

Even if you could squirm away, Joker would just drag you back. With one hand keeping your face towards him, he used the other to prod his cock in your slick juices.

You were so wet, he almost slipped inside with no resistance. He let you coat his dick completely and hissed at the warmth beckoning him in.

"Don't... look... away. Here we go. Ahh s__t, oh shhh shh Y/n, I know. I-I know it hurts and that.. Heh, that's just the tip.."

You were a panting mess. It felt like you were being split apart and he barely had the tip inside? This wasn't what you signed up for! "Joker, wait!!"

He muffled your cries with a kiss and bullied his way deeper inside of your tight walls, one agonizing inch at a time. You clawed at his forearm that was holding your face and wept at the sting his cock left behind.

It wasn't supposed to hurt yet it felt good at the same time. You couldn't decide which sensation overpowered the other, but right when you thought you couldn't take anymore, Joker bottomed out inside of you— groaning at your walls gripping him tight as you sobbed uncontrollably around him.

"Ahhh! Please, Joker no more!" You begged. Joker settled in within you, laughing.

"Whaddya mean, Bunny? That's it! Good job for taking me soooo well. You ahh, took it a-all on the first try. Breathe doll. Ya gotta breathe."

Joker groaned as you turned a little blue in the face. His cock was already making you go stupid and he had yet to start thrusting.

He wanted to tease you about it but he wasn't any better as your gummy walls choked the life out of his dick. You felt absolutely sinful wrapped around him. He felt lightheaded from the intense heat your body enveloped him in.

"How does it f-feel to not be a.. mmm.. virgin anymore?"

"F-Full..." You wheezed out.

"Yeah? What if I ahh, take it away?" Joker pulled out, till nothing but the aching tip remained and you cried out, begging him to come back. "I knew it, such a greedy little slut... but today I'll be generous. Here you go."

He thrust into you sharply, making you arch your back and disrupt the grip he had on your face. "Ohh you like it rough, doll?"

Joker grabbed your hips instead and set his knees into the bed. Each word was drilled into your pussy with a powerful, breathtaking thrust. "Good. To. Know."

You couldn't think straight let alone form words from the assault. All that could escape your lips was Joker's shortened name and pornagraphic moans.

You were tossing your head side to side and drooling up a storm. Joker thought it was the prettiest thing in the world. You were a natural.

"And you thoughT you wouldn't be good enough, HA! You're perfect for meeee.. I should've taken you months ago, f__k." Joker didn't care if he was talking too much, you were proving to be too much for him to handle.

Between your tight pussy suffocating his cock, to your breast bouncing in his face, Joker didn't know where to focus his attention.

That is, until you made the decision for him.

You never followed his instructions. He didn't care how hard it was to focus, he wanted to see the moment your brain shut down and floated away. How could he do that if you closed your eyes?

Joker growled and picked up the pace but not before squeezing your throat. "What.. did I tell you? Don't. Look. Away."

He wasn't expecting you to let out an airy giggle in response. You would be his undoing. Smiling as he choked you? It was like you were made for him.

Joker groaned and lost himself, giving it his all to make you feel good. This was your first time after all. He would stop at nothing to make it perfect.

You weren't complaining as you struggled to breathe in between the brutal pace Joker set and with his hand wrapped tightly around your throat.

A while ago, the initial pain of his cock entering your hole morphed into mind numbing pleasure. Now you understood the hype behind sex. Why did your parents and other adults growing up censor this from you?

It was indescribable the way Joker made you feel. You were in fact seeing stars with each cant of his hips. Had you known sex could feel this good sooner, you couldn't even wrap your head around the possibilities your teenage self could have created.

"nny? Bunny? Come back to meeeee. There ya are! Heh, thought I squeezed too tight."

You blinked back the fog to notice Joker had come to a stop inside of you and was doting on you with a slight look of concern in his eyes. It was gone by the time you cleared your throat.

He let go of it during your brief stint in headspace when he saw your eyes roll back.

There was a fine line between breath play and choking. Joker wasn't about to go too far, especially since this was your first time.

He wanted this to be memorable, not kill you. So against his wishes, he stopped to check on you when you became unresponsive.

You were breathing normally again (albeit your eyes were still glazed over) but he proposed a new idea anyway. "Wanna try a different position?"

You stretched your arms out for Joker to grab onto with a meek nod. He chuckled at your innocence on full display.

His sweet girl was a pillow Princess through and through.

Too bad he wanted to corrupt that and everything else about you. You would be a ravenous minx by the end of his teachings, that much he was certain of.

Joker sighed as he left your warmth and drummed up a good position in his head. There were so many he wanted to try with you but one in particular made him grin deviously.

You caught sight of it and gulped down your fear. "J... please be.."

"Nothing about me is gentle doll. Remember thaT. Now, what's a sweet little thing like you owning a big mirror like this hmmm?"

Joker scooped you up from the bed and slammed you face first into the floor length mirror that you had set up in the room.

He loved seeing your shock reflect through the mirror.

"Do ya use it to touch yourself? Can't blame ya if you do. I'd watch this body too.." He fondled your hips and squeezed your breasts as you shook your head in denial.

You watched yourself in the mirror being manhandled at a loss for words.

"N-No! It's not l-like that!" You cried out when Joker yanked your hair back in his strong grip. All you could do was grip the mirror's frame, less you lose your balance.

Joker had you standing on your tippy toes with your head tilted all the way back in order to stare up into his eyes.

"Open your mouth." He ordered.

You did without hesitation but froze when Joker spat right onto your tongue.

"Ahht ahht, swallow. Now." He growled. He didn't care if it was yucky to you, it asserted his dominance over you and he grinned when you teared up but swallowed on command.

He noticed your legs rubbing against each other and knew subconsciously you loved it. That innocent mind of yours was holding you back however.

"It's always the shy ones." Joker chuckled under his breath. In an instant he used your hair to guide you back onto his dick. Your breath was stolen right from you by the unexpected invasion.

"Oh bunnyyyy, you got tighter." He groaned.

He rammed his cock into you at a bruising pace and yanked your hair whenever you tried to look away. Your only option was to lean forward onto the cool mirror and watch as J pounded into you from behind on its surface.

The sight of your nude body being taken in such a way was embarrassing— all flushed and slack jawed, but Joker was right there behind you, whispering how beautiful you were and how lucky he was to take your v card.

Whatever that meant.

What you did know was that Joker was thrusting into you harder than ever and that wondrous feeling from before was fast approaching again. You were unsure how Joker managed to fit his length inside of you yet there was a noticeable bulge in your stomach that you couldn't keep your eyes off of.

Joker followed your gaze through the mirror and relocated one of his hands to rub against it during each snap of his hips. And when he pressed down on it? You sang praises to his name.

"You.. really are stuffed.. fuuc—full of me huh, baby doll? G-Gooood, that's good." He smiled into your skin and picked up the pace, like he wasn't already rattling the mirror and artwork against the wall with every rough thrust.

You were swaying on your feet from the pleasure and it grew the moment Joker rubbed erratic circles on your clit.

You couldn't handle the added stimuli and tried moving his hand away because this time it really felt like you were..

Your undoing completely blindsided you; it was so intense. Your legs shook like a newborn's and you almost fell if not for Joker catching you at the last minute. He was in high spirits, cooing in your ear.

"D__n, Y/n! Goood girl, C'mon.. breathe for me Bunny.. yeah. That was.. heh somethin' else wasn't it? Shhh shhhh easy now.." He ignored the wet mirror dripping with your cum to help you down onto the plush rug at your feet.

You were twitching and pushing Joker away but he fought back and flipped you onto your stomach.

Your legs were still dripping wet from squirting, so your pussy accepted Joker back inside no issue.

That didn't mean your brain was so welcoming. "J.. too much, I-I can't!"

He just positioned your hips into a painful looking arch and drilled your pussy like no tomorrow.

"I. Don't. Care. Bunny. Ahh, you... ohh, youuuu got to cum twice now, selfish little whore. N-Now it's my turn and I'm gonna.. use ya.. like the dirty slut we both know ya are!"

He threw his head back as he slammed your hips back to take his dick over and over. The way your skin rippled with each thrust, the echo of wet skin on skin, your pathetic cries floating in the air; Joker loved every detail.

A quick glance to his right gave him the perfect view of your back arching in the mirror and your tear stained face smushed into the rug.

You were taking his cock with a blissed out smile on your face. Joker truly was a lucky man. Your first time and you were already showing signs of being a perfect cock-slut.

What more could he ask for in a partner?

He'd love exposing you to his most kinkiest desires and treating his touch starved Princess to all of the pleasures known to mankind. By the way your weeping pussy was still throwing it back on him and squeezing his dick so tight, physically you were still in the game.

A shame your mind couldn't keep up.

He laughed at the broken pleas spilling from your lips. Your mind was still a virgin but your body never truly was. This body of yours was begging for his cum.

And he would deliver.

Joker choked on a moan as his release creeped up on him. His hips lost their rhythm and became more primal in the desperate need to cum. Joker reached down and grabbed ahold of your hair to twist your face towards him.

"Now this... ohh shi— tt-this is the ahh, most important part Bunny. Good.. gooood girls get rewarded. T-They get cum deeeeep in their greedy little wombs. You.. you want thaT? You want my cum?" He asked.

You didn't understand a single word but nodded aways. "Yes J, please!"

Joker was too close to mock your eagerness. He was spouting nonsense himself; his head was so mushy.

"I'm gunna give it to ya. You've been such a good little bunny. This'll make ya feel sooo much better, so full n' complete. All m-mine.. you'll take it yeah? Won't you, Y/n?"

Joker had more to say but two thrusts later, he erupted in your pussy, painting it white with no end in sight.

Joker's release triggered one last orgasm from you as his hot cum bathed your walls and sent you down a spiral.

You collapsed and Joker's weight kept you pressed to the floor as he continued to rock his hips into you, unable to stop himself. Both of you struggled to catch a breath but Joker regained his senses first and rolled over onto his side, dragging you with him.

Naturally he was the big spoon and showered you with much needed affection.

You were shivering with aftershocks with a faraway expression on your face. He hummed as he softened inside you and waited until he was coherent enough to check on you.

"Y/n?" He brushed a lock of hair off your shoulder. "You uhhh alright?" Joker turned you around and you clung to him instantly.

He rubbed your back and petted your hair, a complete 180 of the dominant man rearranging your guts just moments prior.

"I wasn't too rough, no? If ya didn't li-ke it or.. uhh, we can try again? More gentler—-"

You cut him off with a kiss.

Joker looked down at you in shock. Your beautiful face was wet with tears but your eyes... those sweet e/c shined so brightly at him in adoration.

"It was p-perfect, J. T-Thank you." You kissed him again and collapsed into his arms when your strength suddenly failed you.

You landed on his chest and left kisses where you could reach. They were weak brushes of your lips, but Joker didn't mind. At least you were okay.

"Mmm, err don't thanK me just yet doll. C'mere." He tipped your head back so the two of you could lock eyes.

"This... was tame compared to what I'll do to ya next time."

Your eyes widened. "N-Next time?"

Joker snickered at your innocent wonder and nodded. Somethings just wouldn't change he guessed.

"Mmhm. There's so much more to learn Y/n.." He tucked a curl of hair behind your ear. You were so pretty in your afterglow, he couldn't even focus on what he was saying.

Joker didn't know how long he was gonna lay low with the authorities but he knew he was staying here with you for a very, very long time.

543 notes · View notes

silantryoo · 6 months

Text

BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — gaeul's ahn yujin.

kim gaeul, second year.

WARNINGS; manipulation, unrequited love, pining, mentions of sexual acts, self-sabotage, peer pressure, self-deprecation, coercion, power imbalance (5.7k)

jang wonyoung was beautiful.

she was ethereal, almost angel-like. her brown, doe-like eyes could make anyone lose track of their thoughts, becoming a bumbling, incoherent mess in front of said girl. her soft, princess-like smile could catch anyone's attention with just one glance, like a lighthouse shining though the foggy sea.

jang wonyoung was heaven-sent.

there was no one that came close to the level of elegance and beauty that she held. there were people who came close, people who came from similar backgrounds, and people who spoke in a similar manner. but even then, there was no one that could be jang wonyoung.

gaeul wasn't stupid. she knew all of this, just like any other person who had ever encountered the volleyball player.

and she knew that she could never, ever stand a chance against someone like her.

gaeul wasn't born with athleticism. even as a child, she preferred to stay indoors, opting to watch her peers play as she read books about dance and volleyball. at ten years old, she had begged her parents to take a chance on her, just that once, to let her try something she was passionate about despite her small stature. even then, she knew they always had doubts when it came to anything she did.

she wasn't pretty either, at least, not like wonyoung. her boyish charms, despite making her unique, could never hold a candle against someone like jang wonyoung. she knew it in her heart, even if anyone tried to say otherwise.

but gaeul could never hate the younger girl.

wonyoung had come into try-outs wide-eyed, an innocence filling up the room as she stepped in. she was filled with an excitement that gaeul hadn't seen in years.

it was refreshing, beautiful even.

the girl was young, and hailed from the same high school that yoo jimin had come from. she couldn't imagine the pressure. the whispers followed the young girl everywhere she went, and it didn't help that yeji made it as difficult as she could've for the younger girls.

but she outperformed all expectations, crushing all the doubt that yeji (who was greatly irritated) had for the girl. there was no denying that jang wonyoung played volleyball like it was dance, and everyone's eyes were on her.

everyone except gaeul's.

gaeul heard yujin before she saw her. she could hear the girl laughing from outside the olympic-sized gym, joking about something dumb to get a giggle out of the other girls. she would yell in excitement whenever anyone made a particularly good serve, set, or dig, and would scream at the top of her lungs at the slightest inconvenience.

gaeul loved it, maybe more than she should've.

but as loud as ahn yujin was, her feelings were louder, and it didn't take a genius to realize that she was infatuated with jang wonyoung.

gaeul wanted to hate her, but she could never hate the girl.

gaeul could only hate herself.

being roommates with yujin was both a curse and a blessing.

yujin was loud, and all gaeul had ever known prior was quiet.

she grew up in a family where success was a priority, where both of her parents were financial analysts for a huge company, away on business trips for months on end, and her older brother locked himself in his room to study all day.

it was terrifying, most days.

gaeul had no one to run to. the young kim was left to her thoughts, letting them spiral out of control until she couldn't think of anything else.

but soon, familiarity turned the silence into a blessing, and the kim house was no longer a jail cell. it filled with an ambiance that seemed to embrace gaeul in her times of need.

but ahn yujin was loud (and gaeul didn't know if she loved it or hated it in that moment).

"unnie."

gaeul bit back a smile, listening to the younger girl sigh as she read through the notes of her anatomy class.

gaeul realized that yujin was harder to ignore than she thought.

"hello?" yujin waved her hand in front of the older girl's face. "can you stop studying and pay attention to me?"

the dancer shook her head. she already knew what this was going to be about.

"yes, yujin?"

gaeul turned to face yujin, holding up two pieces of clothing, one a blue cardigan and the other a green sweater.

"do you think wonyoung likes green or blue?"

wonyoung was a topic that yujin seemed to love. every conversation the two had seemed to revolve around wonyoung or volleyball, maybe even both. gaeul knew what she was getting into the moment she found out the younger girl was her roommate, but hearing it regularly didn't make it hurt any less.

thank god it was just a silly little crush.

gaeul thought for a moment, a finger tapping the side of her cheek. she looked at yujin, eyes wide and anticipating.

even her eyes were loud, full of emotion, and swirling with excitement.

"i think she likes her girlfriend." gaeul teased, raising an eyebrow.

"unnie." yujin whined, huffing as she lowered her arms. "just answer the question."

gaeul rolled her eyes, looking in between the two.

the dark green sweater wasn't something yujin wore often. in fact, it was the first time gaeul had seen it. it was harsh, like the weeds seeping through the cracks of a sidewalk.

gaeul glanced at the light blue cardigan before glancing back at yujin. the younger girl always looked good in blue, and gaeul always thought she looked the prettiest in soft colors. she liked the way yujin's smile stood out more.

"blue." gaeul hummed. "it reminds her of y/n."

"okay." yujin threw the cardigan on her bed and removed the sweater from the hanger. "green it is."

she turned around as yujin got dressed, humming a love song as gaeul went over the lecture notes she had earlier that day.

it had been a tough week for the older girl. being a second-year dance major made her realize that sitting through a three-hour dance composition lab and a two-hour anatomy lecture with two hours of sleep was something she had to deal with from now on. luckily, today was the weekend, but even if she wanted to sleep, yujin had asked her earlier that week if she they could to get dinner whenever gaeul was free.

she couldn't say no if she tried.

gaeul looked over at yujin, watching as she buttoned up her shirt.

"i thought we were hanging out today." gaeul asked, trying not to sound too hurt.

yujin looked over, brushing her hair as she shrugged. "you said you were busy."

gaeul knew she just wanted an excuse to hang out with wonyoung by herself.

"i said i needed to study first." gaeul frowned, turning back to face her paper.

"yeah." the younger girl's perfume engulfed the entire room as she sprayed her wrists. "busy."

gaeul wondered if yujin would've done the same thing if she was anything remotely similar to wonyoung.

gaeul shook her head, too tired to argue with yujin. she just wanted to close her eyes and listen to the silence around her, lulling her to sleep like she was ten years old again (even though she would've preferred yujin's loud singing to keep her awake).

the door slammed open, and gaeul looked over at yujin with questioning eyes.

"that door is supposed to be locked."

yujin smiled, and gaeul forgave her almost instantly.

"hey, unnies!" wonyoung burst through, dressed comfortably in jeans and her suma sweater.

"hey, wonyoung." gaeul smiled at the taller girl. she never understood how wonyoung could look so put together so effortlessly.

beside her, yujin dusted herself off. "hi."

wonyoung looked between the two, her eyes settling on a half-awake gaeul whose hair was pushed back with a headband.

"is gaeul-unnie not coming with us?"

yujin looked at her, begging her to say no.

gaeul glanced at wonyoung. she wanted to go with them, with yujin. she wanted to get the girl who held doors open for her, and who bought her snacks because it reminded her of gaeul. she wanted to be the girl yujin talked about, but that wasn't her.

she wasn't jang wonyoung. she wasn't talented, she wasn't pretty. she was just kim gaeul, and maybe that would've been enough for someone else, but gaeul didn't like someone else.

gaeul liked yujin (and gaeul could never say no to yujin).

"no." she could feel her breaking her heart in two. "i'm busy. sorry, wonnie."

"oh." wonyoung pouted, genuinely upset. she wanted to hang out with both of them, and gaeul knew that wonyoung was too kind to forget the older girl. "i'll get you food, okay?"

"you don't have to." yujin argued, looking at her roommate. "she has money."

"she needs to eat too." wonyoung pointed out, before grinning softly (gaeul wondered if she looked like that when she thought of yujin). "plus, i promised y/nnie that i was gonna get her bread."

sighing, yujin nodded in defeat. there wasn't much that she could do against l/n y/n when it came to wonyoung.

the two put their shoes on, and all gaeul could do was listen as she tried her hardest not to cry from frustration.

(she didn't understand why the gastrocnemius and the soleus were this important to dance.)

"you two have fun." gaeul cleared her throat, trying not to let it waver. "don't spend too much money."

she could hear the hesitation in the air, and she wondered if yujin had saw through her at that moment. she wondered if somehow she had garnered a chance.

(wonyoung looked at her figure with worried eyes, and all yujin could do was look at wonyoung.)

yujin cleared her throat. "we'll see you later, unnie!"

gaeul nodded, listening to the door click closed.

it was just a silly little crush.

it didn't matter whether she looked for signs of yujin everywhere. she didn't care that she turned her head whenever she smelt her perfume in class. it didn't bother her that she would always think of yujin's coffee order before hers.

it was a crush, and there was no chance it would have been reciprocated.

kim gaeul wasn't jang wonyoung.

gaeul wondered what it was like to really excel at something.

by no means was gaeul average. she had made it into Seoul's University of Multi-Arts, one of the sought out SKYS universities. she was smart, averaging a 3.7 unweighted gpa. she was talented, enough to warrant a spot on the top university volleyball team of the nation.

but even though she wasn't average, she was just gaeul.

gaeul who was another face on the team. gaeul who was just another dance major. gaeul who was nothing special.

the dorm room door opened with a swing, and the tall, opposite hitter appeared, loud and boisterous as ever.

"unnie," yujin exclaimed, the door clicking closes behind her as she showed off a bouquet of pink roses. "do you think wonyoung would like this?"

gaeul loved pink, just like yujin loved jang wonyoung.

"you shouldn't give flowers to a girl that's taken, yujin."

it hurt. so deeply.

yujin sighed, "wonyoung's sad, though."

gaeul was sad too.

she was tired from bouncing back from the studio to the court every day. she was upset that her parents had missed her birthday to work extra hours at their stupid corporate jobs.

she was sad, because she wanted to hate jang wonyoung, but no matter what she did, the girl would always be like a little sister.

she could never blame wonyoung for being wonyoung, gaeul could only blame herself.

"she's sad and taken." gaeul smiled softly, covering up the pain with a grin. "you're gonna start a fight between her and y/n."

"i know..."

yujin plopped down on her bed, still gripping onto the bouquet.

gaeul looked at the young girl, listening to her huff as she turned to look at the dancer.

yujin had a good heart, perhaps a little too soft for her own benefit (and gaeul loved it, just like she liked, loved, yujin).

the older girl looked at her, eyebrows furrowed as yujin sat quietly at the foot of her bed.

"do you want to start a fight between her and y/n?"

"no!" yujin shook her head almost immediately. gaeul couldn't help but smile. yujin always had a soft spot for her old schoolmates. "y/nnie's cool. she's good for wonyoung."

yujin was quiet, and that was all gaeul needed to know.

she sat up, sitting beside the taller girl wordlessly. she could hear the chatter of the students and the chirping of the birds from outside. she hoped that the silence would envelop yujin, she hoped it would comfort her.

so gaeul waited.

"i just wish i met wonyoung first."

gaeul smiled.

i wish i had met you first, too.

"i know." the setter whispered, the silence deafening her ears. she looked over to yujin, the sun illuminating the girl brightly. "but you didn't, and there's nothing you can do."

yujin looked at her, and gaeul swore saw something.

but yujin wouldn't look at her like that. she wasn't wonyoung.

"i know." the younger girl's hand twitched, her eyes trained on gaeul's slightly calloused hands.

"i'm not letting you beat yourself up over this." the older girl sighed. she stood up, her eyes trained on yujin. "let's get food. what are you craving?"

and almost instantly, gaeul's loud, boisterous ahn yujin came back.

"my parents just came back from thailand!" yujin exclaimed, a slight blush on her face. "so thai food?"

"okay." gaeul nodded, ignoring the loud beating of her heart. "i'll drive this time."

yujin looked at her, and gaeul wondered if yujin wished she was wonyoung at that very moment.

gaeul wondered how well the team would take it if she decided to transfer schools.

she turned her body, facing the door as she listened to the wind blowing through her undrawn curtains.

suma had already been short players before ryujin and alex had left, and yeji was clearly at her breaking point, losing her setter in the mix. jimin had been in a funk since catching yeji, and coach bam was dragging the younger girls through hell and back, giving them little leeway for mistakes. gaeul wasn't even sure they were going to win this year, and she didn't need her parents breathing down her neck because of another loss.

(plus, yonsei had a great dance program that gaeul had eyed before choosing suma.)

yujin burst into the room, nearly out of breath. gaeul shot up, wondering why the younger girl was causing such a commotion.

the door creaked closed, and gaeul waited for the younger girl to speak.

yujin sat down at the foot of gaeul's bed, her head hung low as gaeul scooted closer to her. the older girl stayed quiet, letting yujin catch her breath and sort through her thoughts.

yujin's voice broke through the silence in a whisper.

"wonyoung broke up with y/n."

gaeul looked at yujin.

"what?"

wonyoung was y/n's and y/n was wonyoung's. although gaeul never had a good example of love, she didn't need to to know that they were meant for each other. she would've never thought that they would break up so abruptly.

the older girl looked at yujin, quiet and calm.

"yujin?" gaeul whispered. "are you okay?"

yujin spoke gently, and it sounded almost foreign to gaeul. "i didn't think wonyoung would be this sad."

gaeul sighed. "she loves her, yujin."

the younger girl stayed silent.

"i guess so." she muttered, playing with the side of her thumb. "i just don't understand how she loves her so much."

"yujin..." gaeul shook her head in disbelief.

sometimes, she forgot that yujin had never been in love or even thought of love. the younger girl was just a meathead who liked volleyball and pretty things.

yujin looked up, confused. "did i say something wrong?"

"no." gaeul sighed, the younger girl's eyes shining with guilt. "i just want you to understand why wonyoung is sad, and your pea brain isn't gonna take an explanation from anyone else."

"unnie!"

gaeul rolled her eyes playfully before letting the silence take its course.

"wonyoung loves y/n." yujin stared at gaeul, trying to take in everything the older girl was saying. "that's her y/n."

"but she could be anyone's y/n."

and you could be anyone's yujin.

"not to wonyoung." yujin looked more confused than before, and gaeul couldn't help but ask. "have you ever been in love, yujin?"

"no." yujin shook her head. "have you?"

gaeul stared at yujin.

"yeah." it was weird admitting it out loud. "i think so."

yujin stared back at her, her eyes shimmering against the bright light of the sun.

"what's it like?"

the older girl smiled, trying to push back the blush that was rising into her cheeks. "you know i'm not good with words."

yujin held her gaze, and gaeul knew that she couldn't say no.

gaeul nodded, yujin keeping her full attention on the girl in front of her.

"i guess..." she took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts, and trying to think of anything aside from the girl in front of her. "being in love with someone is like having your own person with you all the time."

gaeul looked down, playing with her hands as yujin's eyes bore into the crown of her head.

"you always have a piece of them everywhere." gaeul could feel the hot rays on her back. "maybe it's a cardigan at some store that reminds you of them, or the coffee order that you always check the price of. maybe it's the food at some random corner on the street."

gaeul just wanted yujin.

"maybe it's everything but nothing."

gaeul looked up, finding yujin's eyes glazed over with an emotion that gaeul had never seen before. the older girl wondered if she had just confused her more.

"yujin?"

almost instantly, yujin snapped back to reality.

"why?" yujin cleared her throat, unable to meet gaeul's eyes. "why would wonyoung break up with y/n if y/n was her person?"

gaeul traced the faint bruises on her forearm.

"maybe because she didn't feel like a person."

for a moment, everything was quiet, and yujin couldn't help but watch the sun shine against her roommate's figure.

"that explanation is making me sadder." yujin sighed, her eyes never leaving gaeul.

the older girl looked up, smiling softly at yujin as their eyes met. "i told you i wasn't good with words..."

the room settled in a stillness, and gaeul could hear the hum of the lights, and the blood rushing through her veins.

she wondered if yujin liked the quiet.

suddenly, yujin shot up, almost robotically as she grabbed a random blue hoodie from her coat rack. her face was a firey red as she muttered nonsense under her breath.

"i need-" yujin cleared her throat, avoiding the older's gaze. "i'm gonna go find wonyoung."

gaeul couldn't compare, no matter how hard she could've tried.

"okay."

the door slammed closed, and everything came crashing down.

gaeul didn't mean to avoid yujin.

though the younger girl had been suspiciously insistent on hanging out with her these past two weeks, gaeul had been swamped with schoolwork and volleyball and hadn't been in their dorm for longer than six hours (which was mostly her sleeping).

most of the time she saw yujin was in practice, and they could never find the time to hang out after, considering yeji had made it her mission to recruit gaeul as her new setter instead of shin ryujin.

but gaeul had messed up again, setting slightly too high for yeji's liking.

yeji landed lightly, grabbing the ball as she chucked it full force toward gaeul's stomach. the setter winced, her finger getting jammed as she caught it.

"what the fuck is wrong with you?" the captain yelled, gaeul keeping her head down.

"sorry, sunbaenim." gaeul felt small, and she just wished everything would stop being so loud. "i'm not feeling well."

"i don't care if you're feeling well or not." yeji spit out, jabbing her finger on gaeul's temple. "you're my setter... mine. stop thinking about yujin and play properly."

gaeul looked up, eyes wide and distraught.

"i wasn't thinking-"

"leave gaeul alone, yeji." jimin interrupted.

gaeul hadn't heard jimin speak since the party.

"look at you finally talking again." yeji smirked, and jimin tried her best to stand her ground. the captain smiled at her proudly. "for a second, i thought i broke you."

she turned to gaeul, the younger girl's eyes avoiding her own. "yujin doesn't think about you. she doesn't care about you. you understand that right?"

she knew that. gaeul didn't need to be reminded of that.

gaeul nodded. "yes, sunbaenim."

yeji glanced at jimin, giving her a smile before turning her attention back to gaeul. the older girl leaned in, her lips dangerously close to gaeul's ear.

"yujin doesn't care about you like her." gaeul's eyes widened once more. how did yeji know about yujin's crush on wonyoung? "i know you already know that. you're a smart girl, so stop thinking you have a chance and focus on what's important, okay?"

"yeji." jimin pushed yeji away from gaeul, the captain glaring at the dark-haired girl.

rolling her eyes, yeji watched as gaeul sulked in silence. "answer me."

"yes, sunbaenim."

"get your head out of your ass and set properly." yeji mutter, grabbing the ball from gaeul. "i won't ask again."

"yes, sunbaenim." gaeul bowed. "sorry."

yeji looked at her for a moment, the entire court filling with a tense silence.

"good."

there was a glint sparkling in her eye, something that jimin had already been familiar with. gaeul couldn't help but blush at the sight of it.

the captain walked away, getting a drink of water and leaving the two girls alone.

"gaeul." jimin muttered, her eyebrows furrowing. she watched as yeji eyed gaeul once more. "don't fall for it."

"what?"

jimin looked at her almost desperately. "please. just don't fall for it."

gaeul looked at her curiously before yeji called her over. she didn't understand what jimin meant, but gaeul wouldn't know until it was too late.

yujin missed gaeul.

she missed the frustrated sighs that came from her side of the room, and that stupid nike headband that the girl always seemed to wear when studying. she missed waking up to the window wide open as the shorter girl shivered in her bed, and she missed the stack of books that engulfed gaeul's desk.

she hadn't spoken to her all week. whenever yujin would wake up, gaeul's already-made bed would be empty, and her school bag would be gone. by the time the day ended, gaeul either had practice with the team or with yeji.

(personally, yujin thought yeji had been a little too close to gaeul.)

their dorm was silent without gaeul, and not the silent that yujin learned to love.

"unnie!" the taller girl rushed to the setter, nearly tripping over her own shoes with excitement. "wanna go get food?"

yujin looked at her with anticipation, her heart beating out of her chest as she waited for a response.

"i can't." gaeul sighed, watching as yujin deflated. "yeji-sunbaenim needs me to train with her."

"that's the fifth time this week." she just wanted gaeul to herself. "can't you just ditch her?"

"i can't." gaeul looked at yujin, and yujin could feel her face suddenly erupt into a blush. "we're already down people."

"it's her fault that ryujin-unnie and alex-unnie left." the girl muttered. "we were already short people because of coach bam, but now there's only eight of us."

"it's fine." gaeul shrugged, re-taping her jammed ring finger. "at least i'm getting minutes."

"i guess so..." yujin nodded, watching as gaeul quietly hummed. she knew gaeul wouldn't do anything stupid, but every time yeji looked at the older girl, she couldn't help but get a sinking feeling. "i can stop by and watch."

"it's okay, yujin." gaeul could only imagine how angry yeji would be throughout the whole practice. "i don't think yeji-sunbaenim would like that."

yujin didn't like yeji. she was hot-headed, and blamed everyone but herself. she wasn't a good captain, especially to the younger girls, and everything always seemed to revolve around her.

but yujin especially didn't like how fond of gaeul she suddenly became.

"why?" the younger girl bit the side of her cheek. "does she... does she like you?"

gaeul shook her head. "that's not why."

"are you sure?" yujin had heard stories from ryujin, about how yeji could make anyone hers, so long as she had enough interest. "i can sit in and double-check for you."

"it's okay." gaeul had never seen yujin this panicked, and she wanted to do everything she could to calm her down (without angering yeji in the process, of course). "wonyoung's coming over later, right?"

"yeah." yujin relaxed for a moment, and it took everything in gaeul not to break into pieces. "but, she doesn't have to! i can reschedule and go with you instead."

gaeul blushed, wishing that yujin meant it in more of a romantic way than a friendly way.

"you're sweet." sighing, she shook her head. "i'll be okay though."

yujin just wanted to be with gaeul.

"but-"

"kim gaeul!" yeji's voice boomed from outside the changing room. "you better hurry the fuck up."

"yes, sunbaenim." gaeul replied, standing up as she squeezed the taller girl's forearm. "i'll see you later, yujinnie."

gaeul walked out, missing the lovestruck look that was etched across yujin's face.

"yujinnie?" the younger girl smiled, covering her mouth as she blushed.

she was so gonna tell wonyoung later.

gaeul wondered if something had changed.

aside from yujin's odd behavior (which gaeul found endearing), gaeul found herself less and less tired from yeji's one-on-one practices. she didn't know whether it was the fact that yeji had decided to stop yelling at her, but it felt nice going to bed with some energy left.

but something was wrong. gaeul could feel it in her stomach.

the two changed quietly in the change room, and the clock ticked, filling the void. it was only eight pm. if gaeul went home now and finished studying, she could finally have a proper conversation with yujin before she passed out. it had been nearly three days since they last spoke.

the setter quickly packed her stuff, only stopping as she felt a presence near her.

"gaeul." yeji hummed. gaeul turned around to face her senior. "i've been thinking about something."

yeji's tone carried a softness that gaeul didn't know the girl was capable of. carefully, yeji sat down next to her, waiting for gaeul to do the same.

gaeul followed, looking at her with anticipating eyes.

"i need my setter." yeji placed a hand dangerously high on her thigh. "i need you. do you understand?"

no one had ever wanted gaeul before.

she was the girl who was always given numbers to give to her friends. gaeul was the friend who gave relationship advice without experience. no guy or girl had ever bothered to look her way. but now, her captain was here, and despite everything, gaeul had never felt more needed.

"gaeul?" yeji whispered.

gaeul swallowed. "yes, sunbaenim?"

the older girl leaned in, her face suddenly millimeters away from gaeul's. "has anyone told you how pretty you are?"

gaeul had never been called pretty before.

"i need you to focus on me, okay? forget about yujin." gaeul felt a cold hand playing with the hem of her shirt. "let me help you."

yeji kissed her softly, her hand making its way under gaeul's shirt. she tasted like mint-flavored smoke and smelled like a long day outside. it felt suffocating, wrong almost, and gaeul couldn't help but wonder if kisses were supposed to feel like this.

"sunbaenim," gaeul pulled away as yeji started attacking her neck. "i don't think-"

the older girl looked up, feeling yeji's hands on her waistband. "let me help you."

it was all wrong, but gaeul just wanted to be needed by someone, even if it wasn't yujin.

"okay."

gaeul came home around two am.

she ignored all the worried texts and calls from yujin by yeji's orders, and went home feeling like a shell of herself. she knew what happened wasn't right, and seeing yujin's and wonyoung's faces as she entered their dorm room was enough to solidify it.

she didn't miss the looks that they gave her as she entered her bed, not even bothering to change (but she missed the look that wonyoung had given yujin as the opposite hitter held back tears).

yujin tried to talk to gaeul the next day, to try and understand why she had slept with yeji. but gaeul didn't want to tell her that she just needed to about everything; about how she wasn't pretty enough, about how she would never be anything like wonyoung.

gaeul had slept with jeon somi that night, and with some random girl from yonsei the day after.

"gaeul-unnie."

"wonyoung." gaeul smiled, trying her best to shake off yeji's gaze on her. she didn't need a reminder of why she was spiralling right now. "what's wrong?"

"i can't get my form right." wonyoung massaged the volleyball nervously, ignoring the glare yujin was sending her. "can you help me?"

yujin rolled her eyes. "your form looked fine to me."

"yujin." gaeul sighed before nodding at wonyoung. "yeah, i'll help you."

"i can't hit anything." wonyoung pouted, glancing at a fumming yujin. "i feel like my form's right but i just need someone to double-check."

gaeul stood up, ushering wonyoung with a hand on the middle of the taller girl's back. "can i see it?"

yujin bit her tongue.

"sure." gaeul smiled, and yujin wanted nothing more than for her to smile at her. "haewon, can you-"

"haewon's resting." yujin interrupted, before she stood up. "i'll do it."

haewon looked at her. "i'm not-"

"you are." yujin insisted before turning back to gaeul with a grin. "what do you need help with?"

"i just need you to try and set this."

gaeul gave her the ball, her eyes looking expectantly at yujin. the taller girl gladly took it.

"okay."

wonyoung took a step back, waiting for yujin. though she wasn't a setter, she had known wonyoung well enough to know where the middle blocker would've wanted it. still, wonyoung had swung slightly too early.

yujin stared at her.

"that was a shit spike."

gaeul rolled her eyes. "yujin."

"i'm already your opposite." yujin whined. "why do you need to train her?"

gaeul sighed, shaking her head. "because we only have one person as opposite, and the only other person available is jimin-sunbaenim who's training to be an outside."

"can't you just ask to chaeryeong-unnie?" yujin said, exasperated. she didn't understand why anything was the way it was.

why couldn't gaeul just like her back?

gaeul took a deep breath. she didn't want to argue with yujin. "you go ahead."

yujin nodded before hesitating. she didn't want to leave gaeul alone with a girl, and even though she trusted wonyoung, she had never felt such an ugly feeling before.

(yujin had asked if it was normal, and wonyoung had burst into tears thinking about y/n and her new girlfriend.)

gaeul watched as yujin left, stealing glances at wonyoung. the setter should've known that yeji was right. she'd always be second to the taller girl.

she turned to wonyoung, grabbing a motionless ball on the ground.

"you're swinging too early." gaeul explained, watching as yeji stretched from a distance. "do you want me to delay it a little?"

"you like yujin-unnie, don't you, unnie?"

gaeul could feel her cheeks heat up. wonyoung wasn't supposed to know, but there was no point denying it now.

"what does that have to do with spiking?" she muttered.

"i know how to spike." wonyoung caught a glimpse of yujin, who had been talking to chaeryeong as she stole glances at the two. "yeji-sunbaenim said you were in love with her in the change room. i don't know if yujin-unnie knows, but-"

gaeul shook her head. "this isn't important."

"unnie." wonyoung didn't want another relationship to be ruined because of her. "i understand. i just don't want yujin-unnie to find out that way."

"she won't find out."

"you're not gonna tell her?" wonyoung questioned. "i'm sure she feels the same w-"

"she doesn't." gaeul said sternly. she didn't even know why wonyoung had brought it up in the first place. "i know she doesn't."

wonyoung stared at her, wishing that the older girl would just listen to her for a moment.

"don't you think you guys have been talking for too long?"

gaeul turned around, coming face to face with the taller girl. "yujin."

"it's okay." wonyoung gave a reassuring smile. she knew how horrible yujin had felt these past few days (she had to talk her out of getting gaeul's attention 'the yeji way'). "yeji-sunbaenim starting to get mad and i don't want her to yell at me for distracting her setter."

"she won't yell at you." gaeul looked over at yujin who was glaring at yeji.

wonyoung gave her a look. if there was anyone in the room who understood what she was going through at that very moment, it was jang wonyoung.

sighing, gaeul nodded before wonyoung engulfed her in a hug. the older girl couldn't help but let out a much-needed laugh. wonyoung was too sweet to hate.

yujin couldn't help but shift her focus toward the two.

"thanks, wonyoung." gaeul pulled away and squeezed her arm.

the middle blocker nodded and walked away, sparing a glare at jimin as she took a seat next to haewon.

yujin watched as gaeul shook her head, gripping the ball before turning to the net. the fluorescent lights shined against her face, and the built-in fans hummed from above.

yujin swallowed. "what was that?"

gaeul smiled, and it was like everything had gone quiet.

"nothing."

kim gaeul was beautiful.

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