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dreaming-tonite · 9 months

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All That There Is

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Warning: innocent!virgin!reader, lil bit of nsfw above cut scroll very quickly if you don't wanna see, he has issues he needs to work on but we'll give him a pass, slight corruption kink, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, "just the tip", unrealistic first time but who cares it's porn

Word count: 2k

Jason Todd wanted to be a good man for you, he really did.

If it wasn't for you, it would be hard for him to believe anyone could be so sheltered in Gotham of all places. Wide-eyed with wonder as if the crime and chaos of the streets never managed to taint you.

He loved your innocence, the way you batted your lashes at him and looked away sheepishly when he got close to your side. In anyone else, he could spit venom about the ivory tower that allowed them to be ignorant of the true dangers of the world, of all the suffering their peace was built on. But he could not fathom the thought of seeing the light in your eyes crumble, not when you looked at him with such awe. In your loving gaze, he found an escape from the harsh reality of what he was, who he had been and the weight that followed him in his chest of all he had lost.

A faint voice in his head reminded him always that the idolization could turn to fear and disgust in the blink of an eye if you truly knew the things he had done. So he always managed to be the best version of himself he had never known, to stay acting like the gentleman that you deserved and believed he was.

But you had really been testing his limits lately, with your feet rubbing against his under the table when all he wanted was to be nice and wine and dine you; or the way you pressed your chest against his arm while he walked you home, not knowing that it was a battle between his rationale and primal instincts every time he stopped at your doorsteps.

He was starting to think that you never wanted a knight. How childish you were, did you truly know nothing? You thought you could handle it, that you wanted him to lose control when you had no idea that he was trying his damn hardest to protect you from what you didn't know.

And it terrified him, the images that he was able to conjure up when the aching hardness of his cock straining against his jeans became too unbearable. Oh, he just knew you would not be able to take it if he showed you what would happen to good little girls like you if you put up that act with anyone less chivalrous than he was. He could only imagine the distaste you would hold if you heard how near animalistic his grunts were when he fisted himself feverishly at the thought of your tear-stained face begging for him to stop. He was disgusted by how the thought of ripping your innocence away sent him over the edge, the warmth of his own release almost chilling when the guilt finally dawned on him.

You made him feel like a good man and he would make sure nothing could take that feeling away, even if it meant punishing himself for all the things he wanted to do to you.

He wanted to be good for you so badly and you must trust him when he said he tried.

So how could you just offer yourself to him so easily as if all his restraint was nothing but a joke?

"I want you to be my first," your sweet voice rang in his ear like a siren going off as you took his hand in your much smaller ones and put it at the hem of your shirt, "I want you to make me yours."

Jason swallowed the acid that welled up in his mouth, the thought of marking you all over eliciting a spark through his veins.

Something in him broke when he felt your supple skin under the calloused pad of his fingers as you guided him to ride your shirt up.

"Please?"

Then it was all white in his head as all the pent up frustration and desire unleashed all at once. He could not find the strength in him to be gentle when he pushed you down onto your plush mattress, the small gasp you let out when the back of your knee hit your bed frame making him wild at the thought of all the noises he could draw out of you by the end of the night.

Still, you were so good for him, so clumsy and sweet when you tried to kiss him back amid the messy tangling of tongues. You barely even knew how to breathe properly when his mouth was on yours, poor thing, even though he had been slow with you every time he tried to teach you. You made the sweetest mewls and whimpers as he dragged his chapped lips lower and lower, gripping onto his shoulders for leverage while he licked and bit his way down your neck and onto the hardened peaks of your breasts.

There was already a sticky mess clinging to his skin by the time his erection sprung free and he could see the bob in your throat when he fisted himself, the bulging vein at the underside of his shaft looking nothing short of intimidating.

He came to his senses when he kneeled in front of you and you let him push your legs apart by the knee.

You still didn't know that he was so close to ruining you, he thought to himself when you shuddered at the strange sensation of his index finger tracing the folds of your cunt, wetness gushing out when he brushed past your clit. You were at his mercy and there was no way your tiny body would fit all of him. Your pussy fluttered in anticipation when his finger was replaced by the leaking head of his fat cock, the bead of pre mixed together with your own arousal to leave an obscene sheen.

Just the tip, he told himself, it's not sex if it's just the tip.

It was a devastating feeling to know that he had made a mistake, that he was not nearly as good and virtuous as the man he wanted to be, but he knew that he was not above the rogues he wanted to protect you against when he pushed into you and realised he could not make himself stop.

You dug your nails into the blade of his shoulders, tears welling up at the corner of your eyes when he sunk into your tight walls, the hot tip dragging against your spongy insides as shallow bucks turned into a long, hard thrust until he finally hilted in you. Jason buried his face into the crook of your neck, the warmth of your cunt sucking him in making his breath hitched at the back of his throat. Well-trained muscles caged you between his arms as he held you tight, your toes curling and feet arching as you struggled to wrap your head around just how stretched and full you felt.

Your Jason was always so gentle, held your hand like he was afraid you would break and never stepped one foot too close to your door even though you had begged for him to just stay.

But this Jason, this Jason that was kissing your tears dry while he slammed his pelvis against your ass was nothing like the careful man you knew.

You had touched yourself before, but your fingers felt like nothing in comparison to his girth, the high-pitched whimper that left your own throat making your face burnt when the dull ache fizzled out and became a foreign sensation you had never felt before. The tingling waves made your vision pale and your body did not feel like your own as your walls spasmed around him in a way you never knew you could. It was overwhelming and it would have been scary if you had time to process it, but he was so rough, pounding into you in such a bruising force that was sure to leave the feeling of him ghosting in you for days even when he was gone that all you could do was babble his name like a mantra pathetically.

He felt sick at how he only felt harder when he licked at your tears of pain and the saltiness spread in his mouth. He should have stopped when he felt the signs of your orgasm, your voice growing coarser by the second from the broken moans and the tightness almost making him combust. It was your first time and he should not push it too far or else he might scare you, and you might finally leave him for good. But he was not thinking straight, had not been since the first time you whimpered his name while he was fucking you like an animal.

He was rambling at this point, embarrassing to say the least, of all the things that he never had the guts to say to you. "'m gonna fuck you so good you can never fuck anyone else," he gritted, the sound of skin against skin muffling the possessiveness in his voice, "gonna make sure you can never leave me now."

He wanted to laugh when you pulsed around him, that you seemed turned on by the thought of never being able to be satisfied by any other cock than his.

"Yeah? You want that?" breathy words followed each piston, "Want to be mine forever?"

You nodded almost too fast, his hand shoved under the small of your back and lifted your hips off the mattress. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he slammed you down onto his cock to join him mid-thrust and you could not ever imagine that he could go deeper than he did before.

"Gonna cum inside you, baby," the syllables slurred from the tip of his tongue as his thrusts got sloppier, "say it— say you want me to cum inside of your pretty pussy."

"Please—" you obliged, lips trembling and sore legs hooked around his waist weakly, "want you to cum inside of my pussy—"

Your voice echoing his filthy words made his abdomen tensed, words you would have never said coming out so easily just because you were too fucked out to think of anything but repeat what he said.

"Good girl—" A cry ripped from the back of his chest as his head fell back, the loose strands of his bangs sticking to his forehead in sweat, hard thrusts accentuating each word, "good. fucking. girl."

But most damning of all, he could not hear the incoherent words that slipped from his lips as he buried himself balls-deep in you and his thick load filled your insides.

"God— I love you. I love you I love you I love you—"

His jaw hurt from how hard he was clenching down until he came down from his high. Weight left his lungs when he pulled out of you and his cum gushed from your abused hole, your chest heaving and eyes fogged over as your sweat-covered body twitched from the overstimulation.

Jason panted, but the wash of clarity dawned on him in the form of impending guilt.

Oh lord, what had he done?

He was still nothing more than the monster he was afraid of turning into in the end.

He was prepared to brace whatever it was waiting for him behind your eyes when you mustered the strength to blink, half-lidded eyes looking around as you struggled to recollect yourself from what just happened.

But when you finally found him from the corner of your eye through the haziness, instead of fear or disgust, it was still the adorning gaze that he knew so well and Jason Todd thought he finally broke his own mind when he wanted to sob.

You extended your arms weakly for him to come hold you. He chuckled and you pouted, mistaking his attempt to brush off all the disturbing mushiness he felt as him laughing at you.

All his walls came crumbling down when you snuggled close to his side, proving him wrong after all.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #red hood smut

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astrologylunadream · 7 months

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Their Deepest Desires of You💀🔞🖤 [SPICY] (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

Hey it's Lunadream and for my beautiful souls we are doing a reading on what your person's deepest desires are of you🖤 hope you find your message🗝

(Things get spicy🔥 Darker themes are included)

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^v^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~💋🖤

Pile 1📿

Pile 2🥀

Pile 3🎹

Pile 4💄

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> 🗝🖤

Pile 1📿

Sign energy: Hug from behind, Imagination, Fight, Royalty, Bend, Sun, Leo, Mars, 12th house, South node, 🧜‍♂️🍪🍷😔

💀Your person's energy: Ohh this is someone very captivating and alluring. They light up the room when they walk in, strong assertive/dominant energy for this pile's person. Leo, Aries and Pisces placements but mostly fiery energy. Could Leo mars or mars conjunct sun in their chart. I'm seeing ripped jeans and leather jackets as their thing, they unconsciously command attention even when they aren't trying at all😭 So independent and I feel like your person just knows they are untouchable omg they are so regal and effortlessly attract people because they are just so classy and stunning also hot lmao😂♥️ Siren energy, They ooze confidence but not in a cocky way but a subtle "I know what I'm worth" type way😎👌 Some of you have fought with this person or thought they had it out for you but it was just because they seem so fierce and intimidating, There are such high class vibes from your person, I feel like they spoil themselves in a good way. King/Queen vibes👑 You may be a little delusional over this person😂😂 Sometimes feeling overlooked or ignored by your person since attention is on them usually. They have you fantasizing hot scenarios about them LOL your imagination goes wild for this person🥵💭

🖤Their deepest desires of you: Pisces, Valentine, Fit, Trust, Boundaries, North node, Lilith, Libra, Leo, 11th house, 🏃‍♀️📆🤴🟪 My pile 1's this is getting interestingggg😉 Oh god they desire trust so much with you and loyalty too. It's quite funny because they desire healthy boundaries and almost more friendship dynamic with you but then they deeply desire unleashing their dark side on you and getting in deep..🥵👿🖤 Oml they have so many desires for this pile and like, how can it be so wholesome and so horny at the same time?? They want your full attention and I'm seeing a definite desire for a future with you🥺♡ They want you to take them places they never knew (spiritual and all) and the most prominent message is that they deeply desire a romantic partnership with my pile 1's🙊💞 They want to date you I'm hearing, and they are someone who deeply craves your attention and affection. They desire a full devotion from you as if they are your queen/king, they want your heart to be bound to them and them only.😚🖤 Ahh your person really desires a deep intimate and loving connection with you guys, so sweet. Devotion, dedication, loyalty, sweet moments, long stares, being true to one another, hot intimacy, naughtiness, valentines day with you, spoiling you rotten, these are all things they desire deeply with you my lovely pile 1~

💋Messages from your person: You're causing me pain, You leave me wondering, I told myself to quit, You aren't thinking rationally, I thought I was going crazy, You might get scared, Don't be so negative, Imagine if I kissed you, You are my sunshine, Your body is mine (🙈🥵😳) Extra cards: Inner thoughts, Prison, Neck, Height, Sun, 1st house, Sun, Venus, Vertex, Gemini (You are their light in the darkness☀️🥺)

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🖤

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the emoji~ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💋

Pile 2🥀

Sign energy: Virgo, Boundaries, Options, Emotions, Fine, Venus, Mars, 10th house, Taurus, Air, 🧊🧚‍♀️🆓️💪

💀Your person's energy: This is a very lovely person on pile 2's mind, they radiate beauty and grace as well as a light presence about them. Lots of air and earth energy, they could be a Virgo, Taurus or Capricorn. Any of the air signs, especially Libra is likely. They may have Venus in Virgo or Mars in the 10th house. I'm seeing someone very capable and analytical, very successful in many ways. I think they are rather reserved in terms of relationships, they may even suppress their desires when it comes to romance and intimacy. I just heard "I don't give myself out for free" that could be them they may be sceptical of sharing themselves in a relationship.🖤🤚 Your person could be famous or well known, successful entrepreneur or business owner, or simply has many opportunities. They may work in the beauty industry or in a more feminine environment (could work around more females). I think both men and women admire and are attracted this person, they have qualities that many wish they had. I heard they make your heart flutter🦋 Also your person may be chill and say they are fine a lot and it may seem like they have very few emotions, but they do think a lot in their head and may worry about little things.💭

🖤Their deepest desires of you: Head, Feelings, Nice, Dark thoughts, Fast, Venus, Pisces, 9th house, 10th house, Vertex, 📱🧍‍♂️🦥🐍 Ahh my pile 2's your person gets dark thoughts so quick about you like it just comes out of nowhere and then suddenly they hold onto those thoughts and can't stop thinking about them🧠👿😰 Omg and your person thinks you have nice thighs/hips and legs too and they deeply desire this about you.🥰 They love seeing photos of you and think you look really attractive on screen (do with that info as you will👀🙈) They desire soft loving and ever expanding feelings with you, and deeply desire dreaming of you~💤😇 They love the way you creep around their mind, and they tend to desire thoughts of bossing you around or dominating you. (omg) They want to hold you tight and love thinking about doing so, wrapping you in their embrace so you can't get out without begging🥵 They have these types of thoughts they desire with you. You know what I think they really want to dominate you the most, holding you down or restraining you is what they REALLY desire deeply like oml they have an intense desire for that with you my pile 2's. They want to meet their fantasies as well as yours, and drown in pleasure with you. They wanna make you theirs fast so nothing can tear you two apart🥺♡

💋Messages from your person: I hope you feel better, You might get hurt, I know you're crazy over me, I can't even, I wish I could, It doesn't matter to me, I can save you, I need someone, I don't think dark thoughts about you, Give me more (Omg playing innocent but the thoughts don't lie😂😈) Extra cards: Beach, Art, Matching, Diamond, Sweetheart, 7th house, North node, 6th house, Aquarius, Venus (Aww pile 2 your person wants to be your lover and know they want a future with you!!!💖)

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🖤

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the emoji~ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💋

Pile 3🎹

Sign energy: World, Self reflection, Binded, Hold on, Health, Water, 10th house, Sun, Pisces, North node, 🌊😖🔝🦁

💀Your person's energy: Aww I'm getting soft lion vibes from your person, like they wanna be fierce and assert dominance but they are such a literal sweetheart.😢💞💖 My pile 3's may have fell in love with this person's emotional side, they are so soft and imaginative. Pisces energy is strong in this pile, also soft Leo placements especially 12th house, also Capricorn placements are present. I can see them starimg at their reflection in the water a lot, or that could be how they see themselves from a illusive ever changing view. This is someone you see yourself with in the future, and omg this person really reminds you of yourself. They inspire you that's what I'm hearing, like they make you wanna be your best most successful self😟💝❤ So sweet I honestly love the way my pile 3's look at this person with just so much awe and admiration!! They make you feel emotional even if you aren't usually, you feel like this is your other half. You feel like they are apart of your identity in some way, and they give you a sense of pride.🥰 You guys are so cute and for some of you this person is a nature activist or wants to help save the planet, some of my pile 3's person are into veganism and healthcare. Now they could live near an ocean or beach and want to help clean beaches. Many of you wish to hold on to this connection.

🖤Their deepest desires of you: Eyelashes, Question, Out, Prince, Learn, Capricorn, 9th house, 12th house, Pisces, Vertex, 🟨🧍‍♂️🤨🥊 Okay so I'm getting that for some of you this person may be more on the innocent side, I mean they could be very "out of the loop" I'm hearing (I mean in terms of intimacy💋) I feel their energy is more lost and confused about what exactly they desire with you. It is inevitable that they will ask a lot of questions and need to learn a lot more about their kinks/what pleases them. But for my pile 3's your person is definitely ready to learn for you, they want to discover every way to thrill you and do it just right.🖤 They also desire to get high from you and be more in touch with their spirituality with you, they really want to feel outer-body experiences with my pile 3's just like things that take them higher☁️ (could desire using substances to get high with you for some🍷). Your person wants to dream of you and learn more about yours and their darkest fantasies they aren't aware of. For some of you this person has some masochistic desires for you or them🤯 I'm hearing they wanna "knock you out" could be physical pleasure or they could desire to have you unconscious and have fun from there wtf🥵🥵🥵 Wow I didn't expect that but it makes sense, they wanna have you vulnerable and helpless a little. Their deepest desires are to learn your unconcious mind and surprise you with things you don't even know you like😈😰😰 Wow this is crazy pile 3 your person wants to learn it ALL.

💋Messages from your person: You scare me sometimes, I can feel your pain, I can be your fantasy, Oh my god, I'm bleeding, It's so painful, I'm obsessed with you, My angel, This is all my fault, You make me angry (Wow the passion is insane with your person🤯😫♥️) Extra cards: Ego, Attraction, Violence, Violate, Lilith, 8th house, Pluto, 9th house, North node, 3rd house (WOW this just got crazy I'll just tell you they literally want to make you moan wtf for some of you this person literally wants to be SO aggresive and intense in ways that bring you pain and pleasure🥵👿 Using your hands thighs, and legs... They wanna show you their dark side wtf take what resonates of course.)

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🖤

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the emoji~ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💋

Pile 4💄

Sign energy: Pessimist, Museum, Quiet place, Optimist, On, Uranus, Pisces, 11th house, Venus, Scorpio, 😫👊🍓🙊

💀Your person's energy: Ooh we got some very scorpio vibes, intense energy. This could be a Scorpio Venus or Venus in 11th house, maybe Capricorn rising for some of you. Pisces, Aquarius, Libra, Taurus. Your person has a more introverted vibe, they don't talk that much. But they are very unique, I feel themselves do all the talking them. They have unique sensual charms about them, even though they don't think so. They prefer to be in their home, that is when they are the most happy or in a good mood.🏠🖤 They are very sweet once observed further, if you give them time you will definitely notice how soft they can be on the inside. This could be a friend, or someone close to you like that but maybe they don't talk much. They are very gloomy though, always thinking the worst especially when it comes to close relationships and intimacy. They feel that making close friends/partners will end shortly after it begins, and they will be hurt again. So they can be very guarded and have bad associations about making close connections. They fight their unconscious social needs for others on a deeper level, and they tell themselves they don't need it.👥☹

🖤Their deepest desires of you: Push, Defensive, Spotlight, Holding hands, Meeting, 4th house, Virgo, 11th house, Mercury, 12th house, 🎁🔮🤤🔭 My pile 4's your person has some deep feelings for you, they desire to hold hands with you🥰💕 Aww now I'm getting that your person is really shy and/or defensive about their desires with you, they would feel uncomfortable to tell you themselves. They may feel like it is better if you know through other means such as divination or tarot, yeah I definitely don't see them opening up about this any time soon😂🖤 My pile 4's your person has a deep desire to have a very caring and healing connection with you, a relationship like a close friendship they long for but feel they can never keep or don't exist entirely. That's why they desire this with you, because all they truly want is close relationship almost like a best friend.😢 Your person desires being with you often, and they also sort of want your close relationships to be theirs too. May have the desire to have the same friends as you, they also desire attention from trusted circles people you know. Your person really desires you in a very sweet way, they want to give you gifts like matching bracelets and things best friends would do. It's not so much in a friendzone way but because they really want to be close like that with someone.🤧💌🖤

💋Messages from your person: I have no boundaries with you, Tell me how you really feel, This is all your fault, I won't let bad things happen to you, It's love at first sight, Don't let them treat you that way, Why not? I wanna thrill you, These emotions are too intense, I feel like a ghost (Ahh they don't know what to do with themselves😨) Extra cards: Risk, Obsession, Heartbreak, Mindfulness, Queen, Beauty & the beast, Scorpio, Saturn, Mars, Lilith, Uranus (Omg you guys this person is holding back such intense emotions and heavy passion they are so into my pile 4's but they don't wanna risk getting hurt anymore so they don't want to share their dark side or fall to deep into an obsession with you guys oml they don't want to spiral out of control with this intense passion for youuu🥺🖤)

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🖤

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the emoji~ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💋

Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸

Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3

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sadnymi · 1 month

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The Tortured Poets Department: {Slytherin boys version} A Headcanon.

[Mattheo Riddle-Theodore Nott-Lorenzo Berkshire-Blaise Zabini-Draco Malfoy

The Department: These five delinquents may not be penning sonnets, but they cause enough drama to fill a Shakespearean tragedy. They're the rebels, and champions of chaos at Hogwarts.

The Name: name, bestowed upon them by Professor Abraxas Rookwood, a man as obsessed with forbidden muggle literature as he was with the Dark Arts, was a cruel irony. Rookwood, with his melancholic readings of Byron and Shelley, saw their broodiness reflected in these young Slytherins, They became the Tortured Poets, their "poetry" scrawled not with ink, but with blood and fear.

The Rules (Unbreakable):

Loyalty is Our Blood Oath: Mess with one of them, you mess with all of them. This unwavering loyalty is their foundation.Betrayal is a fate worse than expulsion. A single transgression could result in a "disappearance," a fate worse than Azkaban.

Secrets are sacred currency: What's shared in the dimly lit corners of the Department stays there. Unless it involves a particularly juicy Ministry scandal, then all bets are off (courtesy of Blaise Zabini's insatiable gossip appetite).

Darkness is a double-edged sword: They embraced their darkness, honing it into a weapon against those who deserved it - revel in darkness too long, and it devours you whole.

Art over Arson: Destruction wasn't the goal. The Department aimed to leave their mark with a touch of twisted artistry.A perfectly sculpted ice sculpture of a screaming victim, a whispered poem etched on a sleeping rival's forehead, a haunting melody tinged with despair echoing through the halls.

No Scars: The mark of a Tortured Poet was discretion. Leaving physical evidence was a rookie mistake. The true artist left only a shattered spirit.

No Outsiders: The Department is a closed casket. New members are hand-picked, tested, and broken before being deemed worthy.

Never Love, Only Possess: Love is a weakness, a vulnerability they cannot afford. Possession, domination – these are the true expressions of power. ( a rule they all broke )

The Members:

- Mattheo "The Mastermind" Riddle:

The brains behind the operation. Heir to a dark legacy, Mattheo possessed a chilling charisma that masked a calculating mind. He wielded curses with grace, his voice a silken threat, capable of weaving hypnotic lies or unleashing venomous truths. Mattheo is cunning and calculating, always two steps ahead with a plan so outlandish it just might work. He's the one who assigns roles and ensures their targets get a taste of their own medicine (or worse).He embodies the darkness, a shadow that chills even the bravest hearts.

Theodore "The Artist" Nott:

With a talent for manipulating shadows, Theo could create phantoms that danced on the walls, whispering secrets and igniting paranoia. brewed potions that twisted emotions and conjured illusions that blurred the lines between reality and nightmare. His signature move: A shroud of darkness that swallowed the victim, leaving them alone with their inner demons. He was also The department's strategist. His mind, as sharp as a serpent's fang, weaved intricate webs of psychological manipulation.He took a perverse pleasure in dissecting his victims, unraveling their secrets with a chilling detachment.

Lorenzo "The Charmer" Berkshire:

The Charmer. Lorenzo's weapon of choice is not a wand, but his silver tongue. He can disarm with a smile and deceive with a single word. Information is his currency, secrets his trophies. He is the Department's siren, luring the unsuspecting into a web of lies. tongue that could weave illusions as real as dreams. His victims, lulled into a false sense of security, often found themselves entangled in compromising situations or facing fabricated scandals.

Blaise "The Blackmailer" Zabini:

Blaise has a knack for finding dirt on everyone and isn't afraid to use it to his advantage .He's the one who gathers intel and makes sure no one double-crosses the Tortured Poets. He was the Shadow Dancer. Elusive and acrobatic, Blaise was the Department's phantom. He could infiltrate even the most secure locations, leaving behind unsettling calling cards – a misplaced object, a cryptic message scrawled on a dusty window pane.

Draco "The Distraction" Malfoy:

Draco was the prodigy, a master of forbidden spells before he even reached adulthood. His talent fueled a quiet arrogance, but his loyalty to the group was undeniable. He was their muscle, the unleashed storm of magic when subtlety failed.He saw emotions as a map, effortlessly navigating the labyrinthine corridors of fear and hope.

◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

The Tortured Poets Department existed in the shadows of Hogwarts, a clandestine group teetering on the edge of sanity. They were not poets, but dark artists, sculpting fear and pain into a twisted form of power, a chilling testament to the allure and danger that lurks in the human heart.

◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

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tarjapearce · 5 months

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Iridiscent (Pt. 4)

Pirate AU! Miguel O'Hara x Mermaid! Reader

WARNING: Angst, mentions of violence, graphic depictions of violence, mild gore, political implications, character origins, character backgrounds, introduction of character, Greek mythology mentions.

Summary: The aftermath of a mermaid encounter brings an unexpected ally.

A/N: Pirate Miggy is back ❤️

Mermaids, sea witches, sirens, sea monsters. The latter was the most accurate name for what your mere existence rendered. And now, men eater.

Existing since way before humans understood the concept of civilizations, silent watchers of eons of evolution, yet unfortunate by the simple fact of being.

The permanence of the kin itself was a result of a fateful domino effect the God of the dead had unleashed by being invaded and bewitched by a mortal feeling. Love.

His whim had turned into obsession and this somehow morphed into love. A feeling so strong that made him kidnap the Spring goddess for himself, tired of the miserable companion solitude was in the underworld. And that was the moment everything changed.

The nymphs in charge of their queen's safety were turned into winged beings, as a punishment from none other than Demeter. Her wrath over them, ruthless and merciless as they were forced to look everywhere for their vanishing queen to no avail.

Some of the nymphs had escaped the aftermath to a recluse island, abandoning all purpose of finding Persephone, to follow the whims of their hearts in lieu. Singing and music.

But even so, Demeter's fury had no match, vengeful and blinded by anger she looked for the rebel ones to kill them, but these hid in the sea. Eventually, the feathers hardened, turning into scales. These etched and covered their legs. Securing them in a colorful long tail.

Bird's talons turned into beautiful and deadly hands, that once a prey was caught there was nothing it could do but to accept it's fate. Death.

Damned be Hades and his stupid obsession. Damned be Demeter and her blinding rage, and damned be the men that polluted the earth above with their existing and constant evolving.

Men. The real wretched creatures. The executioners of everything they decided unworthy of living. Stupid beings that played God in a self imposed role in life's hierarchy.

Creatures that had hunted and killed your kin for ages, forcing to separate and face new dangers at every turn in the endless ocean. Humans, a little too praising title considering their acts and actions were everything but, had forced you to hide in the deepest waters and forbidden lands not many were brave enough to venture in.

A couple of centuries were more than enough for you to have a glimpse of their nature. Destructive, dangerous and merciless. They sullied and tarnished everything unfortunate enough to go under their hands.

They killed everything unknown or deemed too frightening for their existence and had no mercy while at it. The bloodier the better. A disgusting yet necessary example of behavior you had to follow in order to survive.

Humans had shaped your temper. Heart rejoicing at every sunken ship the sea swallowed. Even their flesh had lost the sizzle to be enjoyable enough, making your feeding habits more inclined towards other creatures within the sea.

You didn't eat men because you hated them. You ate them because their hatred had poisoned enough the seas, leaving you without resources, pushing you to consume them. And your refusal had made your body weak, it had been years since your body felt properly satisfied.

You collapsed.

How many days had passed, certainly was unknown. Time under the sea was measured by how long it took for a reef to go completely white, how often the ships let their nets in a single spot. Sometimes you remained on land, sea too dangerous to venture alone.

But none of that mattered anymore. Inanition wasn't exclusive of humans, the last thing in your mind was to curse Hades and the men.

But death escaped and picked you and others alike within a net. Pushing some survival instinct back in you as the net wriggled and broke. Injecting the right amount of life to hand you a buffet in a wooden platter. Gathering your bearings after the little commotion in your head, was quickly overlooked when the attention focused on the scene unfolding.

A ship full of men, that stared in wonder and fear. One of them stood out from the rest. It reminded you of Hercules. His physique unique, just as his eyes. A fine specimen and surely a delicious one. Their language was unknown, but it became clear the moment you kissed the fool before your apparent naive form. Absorbing his knowledge and a little more in that simple gesture. Which was little.

But enough to understand what the men said and whispered around you.

Foul and salty smelling, with a faint tinge of wine. He tasted sour and ashy, but edible enough to sate your rampant huger. You wanted to go for the herculean man in shackles, his scent rich in leather, voice like a soft and firm caress in the back of one's head. His cinnamon toned skin made your mouth water.

You were about to move for him, but Elliot, the idiot infront and your hunger kept you in place. You knew your initial prey would fight and would waste the little reserve of strength you had left. He was no fool.

As moronic as the man on your way was, he'd save his purpose. The prey was subdued, flesh and bones devoured; bland and tasteless, but well welcomed within your body. Revitalizing energies and restocking the strength you had been lacking for a time.

Expected as it was, they attacked, all by the command of the shackled man, that had dared to injure you with a bullet. But you were too frenzied and hungry to care. Your meal hung in your maws, as you fought to get it off the ship.

Your Hercules watched in horror from afar, and never in your life had you felt more realized and satisfied to provoke such disturbing reaction in a man.

You could almost taste the fear behind his raged and shaky breathing, his shock in every powerful beat his heart did, the denial in his eyes as they widened the more your teeth sank into the corpse. It fueled you. And also ignited with new strength the already flickering purpose of your existence.

Destroy as many of them as possible.

You went under the ship, away from their archaical defense to eat and consume your food. Humans weren't definitely on the top, for a moment the hunter became the prey and didn't survive to brag about his new kill.

Skin and flesh was torn, consumed with such hunger it had you full and completely sated like never before, within matter of minutes. Elliot Jackdaw no longer existed, but served as a reminder that your kin prevailed and endured.

But also, had unleashed a new domino effect you weren't aware of.

The man in shackles, your forsaken greek god, was thrown at the sea. Your territory. You saw him move, fight against the current; trying to free himself from the heavy cuffs that weighed him down and reach back to the ship. And then nothing.

He became still and it made you frown. Where that bravado had gone? The smirk that was about to emerge in your lips faded as soon as a red cloud oozed and swallowed his head.

His scent was too rich and alluring, stagnant almost. Sickly sweet for your senses and he wasn't moving.

If you recalled, he was called a captain. What was a captain doing out of his ship drowning in the sea? Your lip twitched in scowl.

The lack of loyalty among his kindred was another reason to hate them. He wasn't the first nor the last you had saved in these conditions. Mostly women or little children that were expelled without much reasons other than being a burden.

As much as you cursed your heart for not turning its back to these sort of injustices, and your need to have a tiny taste of him, you hauled him up shore. Light as a feather in water, but heavy as lead on land. The heavy iron around his wrist didn't help, so you destroyed it, inflicting little cuts around his flesh in the process.

Ancient eyes scrutinized his form. Sharp cheekbones that could only match a sword. Strong features that screamed fighter in every direction you looked. A jagged and nasty cut on a side of his head, some strands obscuring his face, you removed them and some bloodied debris from his wound, inspecting it.

Not a too deep cut, the contusion of his head against the moving ship had been rough. A single cut in the upper right cheekbone, clothes clung to him like a second skin. His pockets however were too tempting to be left alone.

Sand and water on them, along a shiny pearl that had you staring and sniffing at the trinket for a close inspection, that didn't pay attention to the locket nesting deeper inside. The pearl was true, so you took it as it quickly etched to your skin, under the ribcage as a decor motif of the raggy top you used to cover your chest.

He'd surely serve as one of Aphrodite's lovers. His forearms laced in tiny and fading scars, that also loitered his solid and somewhat hairy chest. A man through and through. A natural enemy of yours, yet you had saved him.

Probably, he would hunt you too, like the scarce quantity of men you had pulled out of danger. The pearl was a token for saving his life.

You could kill him, filling your tabs with another number, but it wouldn't be honorable. Even if you were a different species, you refused to let some of their habits to rub on you. You opposed greatly to be like them, and so with a look that would suppose to be a final one back at him, you dipped back into the sea.

----

He was on land. Alive, heart beating along every single erratic breath. The sea waves washed over his hips, not cold neither lukewarm. Just the ideal temperature for the humid weather

I'm alive.

His mind couldn't comprehend what had happened. One moment he was in the sea, to then hurl himself back up and puke all the salty water his body had unwillingly ingested.

Miguel was dizzy, but alive. Beaten up, but still breathing. Pissed and ever ready to get his treasure back. But he had to recover some energies first.

Sighing and rising slowly, he turned around to kneel in the moist sand. Tiny grains of it etched to his moist skin, they were rough, altering his sensorial touch for a second. Feet finally got the strength to stand up, careful to not let the nauseas get to his head entirely. Skin burned, but he could bear the discomfort, what Miguel truly needed was a big gulp of water.

He remembered the sun being high on the sky, blazing with all it's glory and witnessing his crew marooning him for good. And now it was night. Somehow thankful that he didn't have to deal with the weather's inclemencies. Step by wobbly step he approached to the thickets and palms rooted in the soil, dressing up modestly the land he walked on.

As another wave of nauseas hit while his head pounded, Miguel stopped to rest in a nearby palm. Calloused hand cupping and covering his mouth to prevent the bile and vomit to spill out once more. Dehydrated as he was, Miguel also understood the dangers of drinking too much salty water.

If dehydration didn't kill him, puking too much without having any other resources on reach would. But none of his survival could be done with the unbridled headache that hammered in his head. A side of it was caked in dry blood, like some strands of his already matted and full of sand hair.

With careful steps he ventured in deeper into the jungle, looking for a spot to spent the night away from land's troubles. The island wasn't familiar for him, he didn't even know if it was big enough to harbor sustainable life, or if ships would pass nearby. With a gasp and a frantic move, he palmed his pockets.

Mierda, no! No

Panic rose upon not feeling the pearl, the sudden motion made his steps stutter as he puked, unable to hold it in anymore. But once he was done and wiped his mouth with the back of his arm, he searched into them.

Por favor

The pearl was gone, that was for sure, but relief washed over him upon feeling the fine golden chain of the locket. Hand clasped on it while he brought it to his chest and sighed.

He nearly gave up.

Heart pounding in his ears along his head, and only when he opened the locket, the tears flowed. Calloused fingers full of sandy grains probed the valuable mineral, feeling the dents of the shell shape he knew by heart at this point. Eyes drowning and his voice muffled into a silent and wrathful sob as he inhaled the trinket.

Perdóname, Gabi. (Forgive me)

A faint tickle of fresh home bread, coconut oil that he used to fry the fish, and the eucalyptus ointment that was always next to him brought back the bittersweet memories that flooded his mind about the last years he had with Gabriella. She adored when he cooked, and always smelled his fingers after using the oil.

It reminds me of you, Papa.

She loved freshly baked bread. But hated the smell of the eucalyptus ointment the doctor left her.

The only memento he now had of his beloved and long gone daughter. The only thing that mattered the most for him.

How dared them betraying him when he had been everything but fair and good?

How dared them into taking his ship and some important things he had hid inside? But most importantly, how dared life to show him that mermaids were real when the reason he believed in them in the first place was no longer with him?

Who was he supposed to tell that he saw a mermaid?

A karma for turning into a pirate, maybe. All his mind was able to remember was the way the creature looked at him, a clear assessment of her power. Fear invaded every fiber of his being, making him too stunned to actually think or act until he saw the creature devouring Elliot.

Another reason for him to respect the sea. Now that he had a glimpse of what laid underneath, Miguel wondered what other things crawled in it's depths. But he would think about it all tomorrow.

His eyes drooped in exhaustion. Thinking consumed the last bit of his energy reserves. Despite the thirst clawing at his throat with a vice grip, the headache and weariness were greater. Even though a thicket wasn't the right choice to spend the night, he hadn't the time nor the energies to be picky. He just collapsed once more and hoped whoever above to live another day.

----

The sunlight was slippery enough to leak through the dense foliage and reach patches of the humid and moss textured land, as well parts of his weathered face. With a wince he rolled to his side, avoiding the aurifeous and warm touch from the ever blazing sun. Head clear from it's pain, and thoughts in order, like it should be.

With a sigh he rose and stretched, popping joints back in their place. Discomfort remaining in his head and wrists, that upon further examination he deducted the cuts in them were fresh, and undoubtedly someone had saved him from a certain death. Who, he didn't know but was grateful for the mysterious savior to let his revenge start.

With a rested yet hungry body, and a fresh head to think, he rolled his shoulders back and took a look around. Surveying his environment to decide which way to go. No weapons, no resources but packed with skills that were honed precisely for these sort of situations.

He still remembered the first time Mundaca had left him in an island with a single knife to fend for himself, since Miguel refused to accompany him in a slave hunting trip. At first he thought that Mundaca had left him for good or out of spite, but Fermín had only taught him a valuable surviving lesson. This time however, he didn't have that knife and would rely only on his hands, brain and brawns.

Naturally, Miguel headed for the north, palm trees left behind, instead acai palms, rubber trees and soursops begun gathering in the place. The scent of wet soil and rotting wood was pungent in the air, oddly, he liked it. Macaws and other birds cackled and cawed as he pushed deeper along some distant rustling.

The overgrown roots twisted and tangled here and there, weaving a walkable path free of them to his right, His eyes darted to the tail of a cobra slithering away from him, minding it's business.

The copious squaking of the birds was a good white noise along the crunching of his wet boots. His throat was beyond arid, that even spit couldn't form in it if he wished; stomach rumbled violently, begging him for some food. Breathings paused but deep.

Hours stretched for what seemed forever, he didn't know if he was walking in circles, the island was definitely not small. He had found some fruit trees along the way, but the things were so our of reach, that attempting to climb for them was a risk. He'd knew the wait would worth it.

Ears however perked at the gunshot given in the distance. Eyes widened, both in surprise and excitement at the thought that civilization was within. Cause that meant, food and water. And also weapons. And what a better way to confirm it than a booming gunshot that spooked away the nearby fawn.

With careful steps, he followed the echo, making the least of noise possible. As much as it thrilled to have a bite, he also understood the implications of such things. Armored men, guarded bodegas, overpowered foremen and probably slaves.

Time flew by, but his spirits lifted upon spotting the first red uniforms in a distance. Two of them. He approached closer to take a better look.

The soldiers had a rifle each, a belt full of ammo and firing at what were now dead slaves as shooting dummies. To his right, Miguel saw a few tents and supplies. Food and water tossed in a nearby bench, a fire was alight, serving as a cooking source for the pot placed above. His eyes however fell upon a machete. Probably belonging to one of the dead men tied up in the wooden posts.

After all, working tools had to be in perfect conditions, leaving no room for slacking off.

Miguel forayed slowly, moving within the foliage until he reached for the machete, with paced breathings he awaited for another shot to rumble to pull the weapon within his reach. The metallic drag was drowned. He couldn't eat until the men were disposed off.

Now that he was armored, a distraction was needed. The branches used for the iron's pot makeshift support were weak, the stew inside boiled. Miguel pushed the tip of the machete on the pot's edge, a little clink connected as the pot was pushed forward, but it barely tumbled it. He awaited for another gunshot to echo to push the pot entirely on the ground.

The lard immediately sent sparks on the floor as smoke surrounded the area. The noisy thud of the pot alarmed one of the guards that didn't waste time into blaming his companion for the shitty structure and how they'd have to go fishing again to get food done.

A little too late the guard noticed the fiery red eyes that glowered at him. Before he could even say something the sharp blade of the machete sliced through this throat in a firm thrust, all the guard could do was a gurgle, perturbed, before plummeting on the floor, staining the blade with a warm crimson as Miguel pulled it out of the body. Flesh sizzling at the contact of the hot coals and wood.

He took a rock that filled in his palm and aimed it for the head of the remaining guard, the other soldier yelped as he fell on the ground, the rock hitting his head with a lurid crack. Miguel lurched for him to end his misery by impaling the weapon in his back. Right in the middle. It was quick, deathly and effective.

Miguel panted but waited in case another guard was around, but none approached, just the wing flapping of a macaw somewhere. With the machete in hand he approached to the tent and wasted no time in gobbling down the water in a container, quenching his thirst, not really caring for the droplets that rolled down his neck.

His hands then wiped his face as he scrubbed the caked blood and sand away, then scarfed down the leftovers left in a plate and devoured anything within reach that was cooked or preserved, Adia probably would scold him for eating like an animal, despite being starving.

Once he was satisfied and his strength back, he looked for other weapons he could use. As much as the machete proved a worthy aid, it was long and it made noise. The opposite of what he needed.

The Red Eyed Demon searched into the soldier's pockets, a couple of coins, bullets and gold teeth that seemed freshly pulled out of the bodies in the back. He took the bullets and left the rest, he also found a short ranged pistol, a combat knife and a rope.

Also, to his luck, some fresh clothes. As much as he was set into his vengeance he wouldn't waste the chance into being comfortable while at it. His boots were soiled full of sand and saline water, he changed them, like his pants. The shirt was the only thing he kept since none of the men actually wore his size.

Ridiculous as it was, one of the soldiers had abnormally larger feet. But were perfect for him. Pants still a bit too short but he'd had them any other day instead of walking around feeling uncomfortable and itchy by the salt etched to his skin and clothes.

He ventured deeper only to find a familiar scene before him. A state. Hacienda Valverde read in the overly embellished metal structure that held the sign.

----

So far, Miguel had done a good job in keeping himself hid, the least of attention he attracted, the more successful his escape plan would be. So far he had counted around fifteen soldiers in the property. Five of them scattered through the plantations, making sure the workforce didn't dally in their duties.

He ventured over the trees, avoiding unnecessary trouble, to then land nearly quietly in a mountain of hay. His breathings stopped at every time an unsuspected guard passed by him. Heart pounded in his ears when his steps brought him closer and closer to danger

The rest of the guards were scattered through the property, watching over the stables, the main storage room, inside the hacienda and of course, watching over the supply.

He had snuck in the warehouse, to his surprise the cells were empty, he went through each of them to see if anything worthy had been left behind, but the sound of the lock being picked made him hide behind a couple of haystacks.

"Stop, Stop!" A groan came from a wriggling man, "I told you the truth! Let me go!"

Miguel couldn't see who was the prisoner, peeking out would be too risky, but the lack of accent, gave him a hint. An American.

The man grunted as he kicked, managed to land a punch or two to the guards that only twisted his shackled hands backwards. This made the man whine and curse, blind hot pain shot in his ribcage as another soldier hit him with the base of his rifle.

"Shut your fucking gob!" With a rough shove, the fighting man was thrown into the cell, the enclosure's door stilled with a loud creak as the main door was slammed shut.

The only noises the pirate could hear was the pained grunts that only increased when the prisoner tried to pick himself up from the floor, and the shaky huffing that turned into whiny whimpers when he managed to recover some air.

The day was set to surprise him, cause in his life he had seen a white man being thrown in a slave cell. Until now.

The man was tall, lean muscle in his body, a five o'clock stubble in his narrow cheeks and blue eyes. Hair hapzardly peeking ontop of his head.

"Fuck..." He groaned but recoiled in his cell even further upon seeing the shade of red glinting at him behind the haystacks. Pain screamed in every breathing he did, but that didn't stop him from trying to get himself free.

"H-Hey"

The man's eyes widened as soon as Miguel came into full view. He had to crane his head upwards to meet his eyes and gulped as soon as he realized the color in the behemoth of a man. Breaths shallow but less erratic than before now that he knew he had company.

"Please. Help me out of here, pal"

He was definitely American.

"And why would I do that?"

Miguel’s bushy brow quirked while taking another look through the warehouse, searching for alternative escape routes.

"Cause my wife just gave birth and I wanna meet my little girl."

A red stare seized the blue one. His unwavering, but the man's rivalled against it. Miguel broke contact as his hands fisted briefly. The prisoner's chest heaved whole he rubbed the area he was hit on.

Lucky bastard

"I was supposed to arrive last week but I was taken from the ship."

"Why?"

Miguel looked through the haystacks and other corners he didn't have the chance to search thoroughly.

"That's what I'd like to know!" The man sat against the lateral bars and winced defeated, watching at the moving man.

"I was a merchant, on a trip to improve a little familiar business I have, but Nueva York isn't precisely friendly with the working class." He paused to take some air the hit had taken away, "So I came back. And that's where the english trapped me." His forehead rested ontop of his scrapped and bloodied knuckles. The spark that gave him a beating and his imprisonment.

"The English are press ganging civilians at sea."

Miguel's lip twitched in a scowl upon hearing the news. Of course they would, Americans and English were too deep in political wars that could barely stand eachother. But in the sea, the English were the masters and none was there to stop them. More like he wasn't there to sink as many of them as possible.

Yet.

"How old is your daughter?"

The pirate asked above his shoulder and this made the gaoler to look up.

"Three weeks old. According to my wife's last letter."

Miguel's shoulder slumped, and he turned to look at the man. A little hesitation passed over his eyes, but it vanished as soon as he saw an old acquaintance of him. Hope. Red eyes rolled annoyed, as if regretting the sudden decision he was about to make.

"Do you know how to use a weapon?"

The question surely threw the man off, but still managed to reply

"Y-Yeah. Not fond of them, but yeah."

"Fight?"

"Not a complete useless if that's what you're hinting at."

Miguel chuckled and approached closer to the cell, examining the lock while the detainee put on his pair of boots.

"Gimme a wire and I'll get myself out of here."

Miguel instead took a nearby shovel to destroy the lock in a couple of hits. The metal piece clanking on the floor as it fell.

"O-Or you could do that. Yeah."

The man stood on his feet and stretched before offering his hand to him, Miguel just stared at him for a moment before taking his hand in a firm shake. Peter hid a wince at the sheer display of strength and that he had grabbed his injured hand.

"Peter B. Parker. Merchant and lock master."

"Miguel O'Hara. Pirate."

Peter could only blink stupidly at him.

"Let's go."

But followed him without much thought.

-----

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loveburrowx · 4 months

Text

Performance

Request - Y/N performs with her group and Joe is her biggest supporter

A/N - This is my first fluff story! Enjoy!

As the first note of the bass drum echoed through the cavernous arena, Y/N felt a surge of adrenaline course through her veins. She took a deep breath, steadying herself as she prepared to step out onto the center of the stage. This was it; the moment she had been training for her entire life. She was the main dancer and rapper in a group of four ladies, and tonight's performance was going to be one for the books. Little did she know, her boyfriend Joe was in the audience, about to witness the show of a lifetime.

Her heart raced as she glanced around at the sea of faces, the lights reflecting off of their eager expressions. She couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment wash over her as she took in the enormity of the moment. The group's choreographer had outdone herself with their latest routine; it was sexy, sultry, and full of energy. Y/N knew she was going to absolutely kill it tonight.

As the first verse of their latest single began, she stepped forward, moving her body in perfect synchronization with the music. The crowd erupted into cheers, and she felt a smile tug at the corners of her lips. This was what she was born to do; this was her purpose. And as she caught a glimpse of Joe's beaming face in the crowd, she knew that he felt it too. He was the reason she danced, the reason she rapped; he was her everything.

The choreography grew more complex as the song progressed, and Y/N found herself lost in the movement, lost in the music, lost in the moment. She felt a rush of adrenaline course through her veins as she executed a series of intricate dance moves, her body glistening under the stage lights. The audience was on their feet now, shouting and screaming, their energy feeding off of hers. She could feel her heart racing, but it only seemed to make her dance better.

The solo performance was finally upon her, and she took a deep breath, stepping forward once again. The music switched to a slow, seductive beat, and she began to unleash her inner siren. Her hips swayed, her body undulated, and her movements were both fluid and powerful. Every move was for Joe, every breath was for him. She could feel his eyes on her, burning into her skin, and it only made her dance with more passion, more fire.

As the final notes of the song faded away, she stood before the crowd, her chest heaving, her heart racing. The cheers were deafening, but all she could focus on was Joe's face, his beaming smile, and the way his eyes never left hers. In that moment, she knew that she had given him everything she had, and that he was proud of her. And in that moment, she realized that no matter what happened in the future, she would always have this memory; the memory of dancing for Joe, and the feeling of his love surrounding her like a warm, protective blanket.

The rest of the concert flew by in a blur of music, lights, and movement, but for Y/N, it was as if she were still standing alone on that stage, her heart beating in time with Joe's. Even as she shared the spotlight with her fellow group members, she couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment and peace wash over her. This was where she belonged; with them, and with Joe.

The final encore came and went, and as the crowd began to file out of the arena, Y/N made her way backstage, her body aching from the exertion of the performance but her heart full to bursting with joy. She found Joe waiting for her, a huge grin on his face, and she couldn't help but laugh as she collapsed into his arms, feeling the warmth of his body and the strength of his embrace.

"I knew you were going to be amazing," he whispered into her ear, nibbling gently on her lobe. "You are incredible, you know that?"

Y/N leaned back, looking up into his eyes. "I couldn't have done it without you," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're my everything, Joe."

He smiled down at her, his eyes shining with love and admiration. "And you're mine," he said, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Always."

And as they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, they knew that no matter what the future held, they would always have this moment; this memory of the night they danced together, their love burning bright on the stage.

The afterparty was a blur of music, laughter, and champagne, but for Y/N and Joe, it was a quiet oasis where they could escape the chaos and revel in their own little world. They danced together, slow and sensual, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. They ate and drank, savoring every bite and every sip, knowing that it was a celebration of not only their success, but their love.

As the night wore on, they found a quiet corner of the room and collapsed onto a plush couch. Y/N nestled herself into Joe's side, feeling the warmth of his body against her own. He ran his fingers through her hair, tugging gently on the ends as he watched her, his eyes filled with tenderness.

"I love you so much," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the music.

He smiled down at her, his expression softening. "I love you more." And even though she knew it was impossible, she felt her heart swell with happiness at the thought.

They spent the rest of the night like that, lost in each other's company, lost in the moment. As the sun began to rise, signaling the end of the party and the beginning of a new day, they knew that they had created a memory that would last a lifetime; a memory of love, of passion, of two souls intertwined forever.

Hand in hand, they made their way through the crowds of revelers, stepping out into the cool morning air. The city lay before them, still asleep but bustling with life, and for a moment, they stood there, taking it all in. Y/N leaned into Joe, her head resting on his shoulder, and she felt the warmth of his body, the beat of his heart, and she knew that she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

As they started to walk, their fingers laced together, she glanced up at him, her eyes shining with love. "Where to now, handsome?" she asked with a grin.

He smiled down at her, his gaze never leaving hers. "Well," he said, "I was thinking we could grab some breakfast, maybe take a walk along the beach...?"

She laughed, her head tilting to the side. "Sounds perfect," she replied, squeezing his hand. "Just you and me, huh?"

He nodded, a fond smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Just us," he said. "Always." And in that moment, as they walked together through the city, their future stretching out before them like a blank canvas, they knew that no matter what challenges they faced or how the world might change, they would always have each other. They would always have this love.

#joe burrow #joe burrow fan fic #nfl #nfl football #nfl imagine #explore #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #aesthetic #y/n

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lazyjellyfish300 · 3 months

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One Cabin pt 2 🌳🪵🌿🍃

Miguel O'Hara x AFAB Spider-Woman Reader

TW: MINORS DNI, masturbation, consensual voyeurism, dirty talk, fingering, orgasm. Word count 770 ish

A/N: continuing this thought from yesterday 🤭 , also Part 3/ending

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Thinking about that small cabin near the creek with Miguel and Miguel's standing alone in the water up to his ankles. Pure want is utterly clouding his vision, mind completely overthrown by thoughts of you. The sight of you standing there in a wet white sundress, the most intimate parts of your body in full view and how you didn't even stop him from looking. He realizes he needs to get a grip, you both have a big day ahead tomorrow and he goes inside.

Thinking about how the large sliding barn door connecting your rooms is a little broken, causing it to recede slightly backwards on its track, giving the other person a small preview into the other's room. Thinking about how Miguel is taking deep breaths with both hands on his vanity when he looks up and sees you already looking at him in the reflection of the dresser mirror, wet dress halfway down your shoulders, your soft body visible through the transparent fabric.

Thinking about how he's panicking on the inside but he can't rip his gaze away from you as your soft lips fall open and you gently tug the drawstrings loose away from your cleavage, until the whole thing falls to the floor with a wet plap.

Thinking about how his eyes are heavy lidded, seemingly in a trance as he slowly begins to turn around and face you. You tilt your head as your nipples react to the chilly air of the cabin, lips curling into a little teasing smile.

Thinking about how Miguel's groaning but can't speak, slowly walking towards you, his hand pushing the sliding door open even more, his breaths and his heartbeat picking up faster and faster.

Thinking about how he goes to step into your room and you decide to play coy,

"Thought the rule was you stay on your own side and I stay on mine..." as you slowly sit down on the edge of your bed, your head curiously cocking to the side as you spread your legs for him like a flower blooming its petals.

Thinking about how he moans loudly at the pretty display in front of him, how your pussy is already shiny with arousal and now he's touching himself on the outside of his jeans, your doe eyes turning to siren as he's being pulled deeper and deeper into your depths.

Thinking about how his lips form into a smirk when he realizes this could be a fun little game. "Touch yourself for me baby..." He whispers and sucks air between his teeth as he watches you ease two of your fingers into your warm cunt, your thumb kneading your tender bud just the way you like it and how your mouth falls open at the intrusion.

Thinking about how moments later, his jeans and boxers are around his ankles, collar of his T-shirt stained with sweat, strands of his brunette locks falling forward across his sweaty forehead, mouth open, his hand with his talons unleashed grabbing onto the door, scratching the paint as he frantically pumps his cock with the other, watching you play with your pussy on your bed a few feet away.

Thinking about how he lowly grunts as you produce soft little moans for him. He's asking you how it feels, if your sweet little fingers can make you feel as good as his cock. He talks you through it with haggard breaths.

"A little faster for me...that's it baby...how does that feel? Am I making you feel good?"

"Such a little tease...mmm.....fffuck what you do to me..."

"You'll look at me when you cum baby...¿Entiendes?" (Do you understand)

Thinking about how your back is arching up towards the ceiling, the wooden bedframe creaking as you continue to pleasure yourself, your fingers aching but the divine warmth you're radiating in your core and the sight of the beautiful man in front of you practically on his knees as he jerks off to your body is too tantalizing to stop. Knowing you two are all alone in this desolate place together makes it that much more erotic.

Thinking about how you both cry out loudly when you cum. Miguel's panting as he watches ropes of his release trickle down his hand, seas of crimson bathe your naked body with his gaze as he pictures it running down your thighs instead.

Thinking about how you're reveling in your blissful end and how you smile as he shyly excuses himself to wash off in the bathroom, biting your lip and shaking your head when you realize that this changes everything.

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#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel atsv #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara smut #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n

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yandere-sins · 10 days

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The Orcas' Tale - Krill's Story II

a/n: And finally! The finale of the series! It was two years in the making and still didn’t finish in time, but I’m glad I got to finish it at all. The stories didn’t all turn out as I planned but I’m glad I got to tell you about these three. I am almost certain that they’ll make an appearance on this blog sometime in the future, perhaps next year to next Mermay’s where we might have some very different kinds of mermaids showing up. But until then, I only have a few more asks to reply to and this chapter is closed. Thank you everyone who supported this story and stuck around for over a year to wait on the closure, and please enjoy the last chapter! ♥

Fandom: Original Content Pairings: Yandere!Orca Merman x GN!AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere... with a twist, Sexual Content (Mostly dub-con, Jerking someone off, Kissing, Attempted deep-throating, Rubbing against each other, Copious amounts of cum, Non-human cock, Mention of non-consensual mating, Magical relaxing cum), Violence (Major Character "Death", Fighting, Gunfire/shots/wounds, Mention of blood), Description of drowning, Animalistic behavior, Mention of claws/sharp teeth, Mention of Slavery, Mention of Abuse, Very long post (7k)

You weren't sure if you felt encouraged or even more appalled as you watched Krill's face contort, pleasure and frustration mixing as blood ran from the corners of his mouth.

He was biting his lips so hard, tearing the flesh with his sharp fangs just so he could hold back from giving any audible cue about how he was feeling. It felt like he wasn't doing it for himself but rather for you, considering how reluctant and unwilling you were to actually put your hands on him. But it also made your job harder, as you did not get any feedback on whether you were on the right track.

Even with two hands, you could barely close around his shaft, his massive cock pulsing and jerking in your grip violently, demanding more than you could give. You only had two human hands, so how were you supposed to handle all of this need in front of you? Krill watched you intently, following every movement of your gloves rubbing against his skin obsessively. The muscles in his body twitched ever so often, tensing and stretching to receive more or shy away from your attention, you weren't sure which.

"Krill," you called out, watching the crimson blood drip from his lips as he gnawed them, his gaze instantly snapping upwards to meet yours. "Don't hurt yourself."

That was enough for him to make a conscious effort to unlock his jaw and peel his teeth out of his own flesh. You were tempted to turn around and grab a towel to wipe off the blood when a guttural groan resounded from the depths of his body, unleashed through the opening of his mouth. You felt it shudder through your own body, piercing right to your core and starting a fire there, spreading the warmth from your cunt to the tips of your ears.

A mating call.

"I tried…" He winced when your hands stopped moving, holding on to his cock for support like you would to a railing. Every cell in your body was heating up, overcome with need after being exposed to this trick that the sirens had up their sleeves. I tried shielding you from this—you wanted to believe his words even though he didn't finish the sentence, but the effect had already rattled you to the core. It would have been sweet of him if this had been any other situation, but you two didn't have that kind of relationship. You had to act with the tools you had, and he couldn't deny the parts of him that were feral; those were just the facts you had to come to terms with.

"I didn't want to come back. Didn't want you to see me like this."

"But you did," you mumbled, regaining some of your composure. His groan had caught you completely off-guard, the overwhelming influence of a siren's call not something anyone could get used to. But for some reason, it made you even more determined to get this over with.

"And I told you I'd help you. So try not to knock me out again."

Your scolding was as light as a jest as you returned to stroking his cock. Krill let his head fall back, chortling some merman sounds and buckling his hips to help you. As the friction grew, you realized the gloves were more of a hindrance. Although you were reluctant to discard them, as the intensity was picking up, you decided to go skin-to-skin.

Every time you pulled your touch from him, Krill snapped his teeth at you, but you began to understand it was out of frustration rather than fury, forgiving it. "Watch it," you warned him once, his attitude a thorn in your side. You were trying to help, after all.

Strangely, he took your words for more of a command rather than you trying to get him to be less intimidating. And watch he did. He watched as you spit into your dry palms, his cock jerking upwards like a spring as you did. You furrowed your brows in abash nervosity as you caught his shaft between your hands again, smoothing over the skin. Without the gloves catching on every ridge, your strokes became much more even and longer, going from his bulbous tip to the slit the cock emerged from.

Out of purely scientific interest, you slid two fingers along the shaft into the cock slit, feeling around the hiding spot of such a massive instrument carefully while your other hand dutifully kept stroking him. A thick liquid spread over the hand that was closest to his tip alerted you to the stimulation you were causing with your inquisitive exploration of the merman, gel-like precum coating your hand. You looked up at Krill, who was back at biting his lips, unsuccessfully, as he whined through his teeth. It was hard to read him, but you thought he was in pain by his expression, so you immediately retracted your hand.

"No…" he sighed, rolling his head in the brace, a long, exasperated sigh deflating his body. "I was so close."

You could not help but feel frustrated by the lack of understanding of what you were doing. It was so hard to determine what felt good and what wasn't when you didn't really know the… man you were working with. So as you tried to build up the pleasure for him again, sinking your fingers into the slit and stroking his cock at the same time, you felt yourself discouraged by everything around you.

It was a feeling you knew too well. Having spent days and nights crying after you realized your life was over, that you'd be caught here forever as punishment by this corporation that neither cared about their researchers nor the creatures they were trying to exploit, you started to curse yourself for the smallest things. Sure, times had been rough ever since; years of bullying and scorn laid behind you. But you found yourself blaming every little mistake on the skills you lacked. Here you were, forced to jerk off the creature that had caused all of this, and you still failed at even that simple a task.

But you had always adapted so far. And this was your time to finally shine, you just needed to utilize it properly.

"Krill," you called out to him, and he immediately reared up to pay you his undivided attention. Albeit with a strange form of adoration in his eyes as you slowed your stroking pace. "I'm not your mate," you clarified, and he let out a weary chuckle.

"You're so cute, trying to deny it," Krill mumbled, sounding much more relaxed than before, although his cock was still jerking against your hand.

"No, I–" You felt your face flush with heat as his words registered, unintentionally gripping his cock hard and causing a blissful moan to echo through the laboratory. "I refuse," you finished your sentence, shaking your head at his horniness and softening your hold.

"But whatever it is, I'll help you. I'll make sure you don't get treated as badly and that you can live somewhat… normal. I'll spend all my time with you, so… promise you'll help me make this all possible. Promise you'll not try to kill me or anyone."

Although you saw him bare his teeth at the last part of your speech, his answer didn't take long. "I promise," he snarled, sounding less convincing than you would have liked, but you nodded firmly, grasping at the slight chance of a mutual understanding you two had. It was hard enough to have all these enemies around you. Perhaps you could make an unlikely alley out of Krill, who needed you just as much as you needed him.

"Okay," you whispered. The first step was made, and you went to the next one. Letting go of his cock, you stepped down the platform, Krill's brows furrowing as he tried to look after you.

"Where are you going?" he asked and you stepped up to a panel on the wall, staying silent as you pressed an inconspicuous button. Krill was twisting in his holds when you disappeared from sight, but when the metal lock around his neck sprang apart, giving him much more freedom than you should be comfortable with, his eyes widened. You held your breath as you picked up the wet towel from before and walked up to his head.

Krill let it fall back once more, watching you with suspicion in your eyes. Communication is key, you thought as you lifted the towel in your hand, taking another step. "I will wipe the blood off your face," you explained, and his eyes narrowed, sharply watching every step. You couldn't begrudge him for also having trust issues after the dose of drugs you gave him, causing his agitation. You were unable to stop yourself from glancing up at his cock, still perked up, waiting, needy. You'd be returning to it soon, but first, you needed to know if you could trust him.

"It won't hurt," you whispered gently, knowing he could hear you well no matter how loudly you spoke. Sacrificing your arm over your throat, you stretched it out, waiting with bated breath on his reaction before you dabbed the towel to the side of his face, clearing up some of the blood. Krill hesitated, perhaps just as tensely as you were, and you stepped even closer to properly wipe his cheeks.

"That's a good killer whale," you teased, lips curling into a cheeky grin, when you noticed the corners of his mouth twitching as well. He was trying so hard not to laugh along with you, but you used your free hand to steady his head before going to work on his lips and cheeks, wiping off the sticky blood. It could have been fatal to be too immersed in your work, but you wanted to believe that this cooperation could work.

"I need you to tell me if something hurts or upset you. With your words, preferable." Establishing some ground rules was your main objective as you cleaned him up. Trust would be harder to earn, but if you could show him how much better it would be to work together, that would be a big step.

"I can't hurt you," Krill replied, and you flinched as you didn't expect him to open his mouth, these sharp teeth still as daunting as they were the first time you saw them. You knew it hurt him that you were scared just by the tense expression on his face. But to your surprise, he turned his head to the side, kissing your wrist with an unfamiliar gentleness. "I could never hurt my mate."

"Krill, we–"

"Yeah, yeah. Not mates." He let out a deep sigh, all of the tension leaving him. When he finally pried his eyes from you, you quickly wiped off the last smears of blood of him, not wasting his distraction. It made you feel better to have cleaned up the mess you caused, even though you knew there was still the biggest mess to make. Undeterred, you brought the towel back to the table so you could examine the remnants of his blood later.

"So you need me to tell you how I feel."

You whirled around, finding him staring at you absentmindedly. You didn't even feel his watchful eyes on you this time, which was getting concerning. Were you growing comfortable?

"Yes, please," you answered, nodding encouragingly. "We need to understand each other if we want this to work."

This time, Krill gave you a small, brief nod. A human gesture that looked a little clumsy coming from him, but he tried, and you counted that as a success. You stepped up to his head again, placing yourself between his restraint arm and his free head. For most researchers, this closeness would be way too dangerous. There were so many vital organs he could bite, but you'd bring results here, even if you had to put yourself at risk. "We are… a team now. Not mates, but a team. And we'll get through this together."

"Pretty words," he mumbled, exhaustion in his smile. "You keep denying it, but you smell absolutely delightful for someone not interested in me."

You felt your face flush from heat, realizing there must have been remnants from that mating call from before. It didn't help hiding your arousal when his head was perfectly in line with your crotch, and you immediately wished to abandon this plan of yours and go back to being hostile with him.

"Don't be such a smartass, Mr. Having-abnormal-senses," you chided him, reaching up to pinch his nose like one would while joking around with someone you were close to. This time, Krill was the one to close his eyes in wariness before snapping them up again, clearly unamused. "Is that how you treat your subjects?" he asked. His wording felt weird, making you question the meaning of the word 'subject' for you and him. But maybe you were overthinking it. Clearly, Krill wouldn't put himself below you in the hierarchy and must have picked it up somewhere in a context more related to experiments.

"Focus," you alerted him, forcing yourself out of your thoughts. It was easy to get lost in foolish banter—he was so fascinating, after all—and joking around with him felt more natural than with most people you knew. "I need you to tell me how to make you feel good so we can move on from this."

Turning away from him, you missed the grimace on his face as you gestured to his cock. "What do you do for pleasure? What do you like?"

"I…" he drew out the word for as long as he could before avoiding your eyes, and you scoffed in horror as you realized he didn't know.

"You never had sex before?"

"Of course I did," he snapped back. "It's easy with other mermaids. You catch them while they are in heat, do your thing, and it's over. We don't need to know what we like or don't like. It's just easy like that. They are… they're not like you."

You should have been relieved to hear he wasn't a virgin, but at the same time his last words made you panic. If he didn't know, you two would have to start from the basics, and there simply wasn't any time for that. His words also implied that you might not be able to satisfy him, making you worry even more. Now, it was you gnawing on your lips, unsure of how to proceed. You thought you were making progress, but alas, it was all for naught.

No. No, you couldn't give up yet.

"I will try something," you announced, and looking into Krill's eyes, you felt a shiver run down your spine. It was either one of fear from the intensity that served as a warning or pleasure from the keen interest he was showing you—undiluted, enamored interest. "I don't know if you'll like it, but try not to hurt me."

Before he could react and diminish your feeble confidence even more, you pulled off your facemask and leaned down, awkwardly smashing your lips against his. It could barely be called a kiss, but although you felt weird initiating it so suddenly, he immediately caught on. Parting his lips in a hot breath, his tongue lapped out, demanding entrance from you. And caught off-guard as you were, you gasped, giving him what he wanted. The taste of blood lingered, but it was overtaken quickly by the intensity of the kiss. His tongue was choke-worthy, but as much as you wanted to get away, you tried to endure his inquisitiveness, allowing him a taste as he rubbed it over your tongue and blunt teeth that would never be able to hurt him.

Only when his tongue threatened to slip down your throat did you react, jerking away faster than Krill could respond. There were signs of frustration as he rattled in his holds, hands curled into fists while his head tried to follow. "Why did you stop?" he asked as you coughed from the unwanted penetration of your throat.

"It can't go that deep," you explained. "You have to be gentle. I am not as big as your kind is."

His frustration was expressed in a growl before Krill snapped, "Again!" at you, and you took a deep breath.

"Gentle," you urged, and he brought his lips together thinly as if to restrain himself. It was almost comical, considering you would kiss him again, but this time, his effort paid off. Although his tongue kept lapping out, and you refused to get yours anywhere near the fangs, you two actually managed to kiss properly, the smacking of lips paired with unfiltered moans and sighs ringing out in the laboratory, making this almost intimate.

You reached out your hand towards his chest, a muffled groan resounding against your lips as you applied feathery touches to his nipples. Krill arched his back into your touch, and you flicked the nub, causing some of his muscles to spasm.

"I like this," Krill muttered in between smooches, quickly trying to find your lips again after speaking. You felt like a bad teacher, always stopping when things got intense. Still, there was only so much you could endure, and in Krill's eagerness, he had more stamina than you. "It feels good."

Seeing his lips curl into a cheeky grin following his words, the 'good' was nothing more than an approving purr from his lips.

"Good," you whispered as you moved away, caressing his cheeks gently. His body moved behind you, but the arm against your back remained utterly still, giving you a chance to rest against it. "That's a kiss. It's supposed to make you feel good."

Your explanation almost made you feel stupid, but you had no time to fall into your feelings of shame and defiance. Not when you had a purring merman demanding more of your attention. "Are you going to kiss me down there, too?" Krill asked, and you looked over to his cock, not needing more guidance to figure out what he meant.

"Would you like that?"

He nodded, and you bit your lip. You should have just said no. Letting your hands fall from his face, you didn't pull them from his body, feeling the smooth, taut skin beneath your fingertips. His gills flared, and now you were much more aware of the eyes following you as you stepped away, facing your fear head-on.

After all this time, his cock should have been dry like a fish out of the water. But you found even more spilled precum all over it and Krill's stomach. You gulped, searching for reassurance as you looked back up at him. There was something core-heating about the confident smirk on his face, the knowledge that he could make you act as he wanted, all for the farce you two were trying to build. If you really were his mate, you were screwed. But you didn't want to know the amount of aggressions and defiance that letting him down would rise between you two. He was your ticket to a better life, and at heart, you were still a softy when it came to these poor creatures captured here.

Catching his twitching cock in your hands, you led it to your mouth. Another gush of precum bubbled out of it, coating your hands and almost splashing on your face. You wiped over the tip with your thumb, hearing the soft moan coming from Krill just from this small gesture, before you brought your lips to the heated flesh, kissing the side of the tip once briefly before catching yourself and doing it properly.

This time, the sound coming from him was anything but restraint, your kisses trailing along his shaft. You couldn't take it into your mouth for even an inch with the massive tip befitting Krill's size. Regardless, you used your lips and tongue to stimulate parts while massaging your hands, sometimes harder, sometimes gentler, into it.

"Does it feel good?" you asked, leaving a few more pecks around the gushing hole at the tip, more and more fluids collecting there, making it hard not to have a little taste of it.

"Yes… Yes!" Krill confirmed, somewhat impatient yet completely enamored. It was just a small win, yet it boosted your confidence more than it probably should have. Growing bold, you drew closer to the top, swiping more of his fluids away as you planned to conquer this sensation with Krill. Pressing your own legs harder together, you tried to deny the wetness you felt when you first tasted his cum, both salty yet alluring on your tongue. It had a strange relaxing effect on your body, one that made you not care so much about everything that made you hesitant. And although you cautioned yourself, you found yourself sucking on the sensitive, aggravated skin of his tip, more precum gushing onto your lips until you realized you were licking it off with your tongue.

Immediately, you recoiled, unbelieving about what you were doing. You weren't supposed to enjoy this… or were you? It would make things easier if you didn't hate it so much, although the shame was hard to conquer. A strangled whine escaped from Krill, and you looked at him, his eyes once again glazed over. But not with relaxant. With lust.

He was holding himself back, and that wouldn't work for you anymore. "Use your words," you reminded him sternly, and he took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Do that again," he demanded, thrusting his hips into your hands.

"I'm sure you could ask a bit nicer than that."

You watched, stopping your stroking when he didn't react. Dominance and need fought with each other in the flaming red of his eyes, and the sight of it was mesmerizing. No matter if you denied being his mate, everything pointed to him wanting to give you the world. Even his questionable motions, the way he'd rather bite his lips bloody than to moan, it all seemed so profoundly ingrained into him to not want to put himself beneath anyone's authority. And yet, you witnessed first hand how much he wanted to give up by the way he uttered his next words—reverently.

"Please do that again. It felt so good."

And you did. You didn't care that endless amounts of juices soon invaded your mouth as you suckled his tip. You didn't mind the way he kept bucking the soft flesh of his tip into your face every time. Your hands slid back down to the slit where you danced your fingertips around the entrance, teasingly dipping it in and out. This time, there was no holding back as Krill yelled, "Yes! Yesss!" the further you two were going. You felt him getting close, a knot building in your stomach knowing you got him to a point of release, and you moaned softly into his tip, the sound vibrating on the surface, finally pushing him over the edge.

His hips went completely rigid as heavy strings of cum exploded out of him. You drew back just in time, moving away a bit too abruptly as you watched the eruption that was Krill's climax. It was beautiful, mesmerizing, accompanied by the sounds of the ocean breaking out from his throat.

Watching the cum drip out of his tip and down his body, you couldn't look away, couldn't focus on anything else but Krill's relief. His face was a mesmerizing show of shame that quickly turned into pure, unfiltered joy. You realized much too late that you let the samples go to waste as they sloshed on the floor. But Krill wouldn't let you down. Virile and perhaps still under the influence of the drugs, his cock immediately sprang back to life the second it had spent itself all over him, and you felt your core clench with admiration as it stood ready, just like before.

You should have been mad that it wasn't over. You wanted to. But in that moment, Krill being ready for another round was so much more exciting than you ever thought it would be.

There was no denying that you were aroused. Aroused by a creature other than your own kind. Aroused by the way he pleaded with you, how the strain in his body showed you all the ways he wanted more of you to make him feel good. The taste in your mouth and the memory of his mating call shuddered through you. You were lucky he was restraint, otherwise you weren't sure if either of you could have held back. And your body certainly wasn't made for being penetrated by this massive cock twitching impatiently as it waited for your return.

A new idea popped into your head. One that benefitted all.

Honestly, it was a stupid idea, but you were hopeful you'd be able to get control of all these thoughts in your head that were growing out of control.

After stripping off the apron and lab coat, you were left in the obligatory wetsuit, which was the standard uniform for everyone since you worked with aquatic lifeforms. You were supposed to get wet, although probably not the way your own slick stuck to the inside of your thighs.

Pushing off your shoes, you swiped one of the test tubes, sticking it safely into the chest pocket of your suit before you stepped closer. Krill's eyes were back to his sharp focus, studying every twist of your body with a burning passion. His body wrung impatiently in The Fisher, upset that you left him, but his eyes were so fierce with their adoration that you felt another gush of heat rake through you.

"I can smell you, Human. Let me out of here so I can make you feel good, too."

There was something uncanny about the way he was able to quickly catch onto things. You let out a shuddering breath before forcing your lips into a smile, shaking your head. "There's still more for you to learn. I think it's best if you stay where you are."

A growl escaped him, but you weren't scared anymore. It wasn't a threat to your life, though perhaps to your pussy as it reminded you of all the savage things he'd do to you if he could. You were feeling strangely aroused and relaxed now. You could only blame the precum that you swallowed for feeling so much more chill about what was happening, and you knew you'd have to study this thoroughly if you ever snapped out of it. You believed in yourself more now, and you had made him beg for you more than once at this point, which boosted your ego. Krill only had to sit back, and you'd take care of him—just like you promised.

Not letting him know your next move, you stepped up to his side, the movements in his body ceasing—the expectancy of your what you were going to do was high. With your hands dancing over his body, you gave his nipple one more flick, chuckling as Krill let out a strained sigh. Steading yourself on his hips, it wasn't too hard to climb on top of him. Since he was more or less situated beneath you, all you needed to do was find some hold on his slick body and climb on. Krill unintentionally did the rest.

You didn't mean to fall down onto his cock, but when he bucked his hips unexpectedly from surprise, you slipped and crashed down. It did nothing to hurt him, though, and you both ended up moaning as your weight pinned his cock down, the pulsing shaft pressing into your cunt.

"Well, fuck," you muttered, already feeling like this could have been enough to push you over the edge.

"You should have let me lift you up," Krill complained, a slight pout puffing his lips, and you laughed, feeling strangely cared for with this comment.

"And let you miss this experience? I don't think so. Tell me what you feel."

There were very little words actually leaving his mouth as you rocked your hips forward, rubbing your pussy along his shaft. It was wet enough that the clothes standing between you two only added to the friction, not caused the same mess as the gloves. You felt the heat catching up to you as his cock twitched against you eagerly. A constant reminder of how much it wanted to be smothered in your walls, invade you deeply until it would spill its seed deep inside. But this was as far as you two could possibly go without destroying your body, and it had to be enough for that impatient cock of his.

"Harder," Krill ground out, his hands flexing in their holds, endlessly frustrated with the lack of freedom.

So, instead, you slowed down.

"I'm sure you can say that nicer," you challenged him, raising a brow as you slid your hips back and forth at a snail's pace.

"Fuck you," Krill growled, but when you gasped at his defiance, sliding your pussy up to his tip without looking, you both mewled in pleasure, immediately forgetting about his brattiness.

"You liked that?" you asked, unable to hold back your own ragged breaths as you pressed your pussy over the curve of his bulbous tip, all the way to the top and then back again. This was the closest you'd ever get to penetration, but it was damn good, just as it was.

Krill let his head fall back, groaning loudly as he bucked his hips. Luckily, his body was too massive to make you fall off, but you did feel like he was restraining himself more now that you were on top of him.

"I like it," he mumbled. "I like it a lot. My mate is fucking my cock—it drives me insane. Are you feeling good, too? Is it because of me?"

Krill looked back at you pleadingly, wanting so desperately to be the reason for your horniness, and you were unsure how to react. However, unable to deny it, you nodded and he let out a groan, more precum spilling out of him, wetting your thighs thoroughly. The Fisher was aching as Krill's arms flexed, and you became painfully aware that although it felt good—the ridges on his shaft teasing your clit, his cock pushing against you eagerly as he wanted the same as you did, while his precum warmed every inch of your body—it had to end soon. Lest you risk Krill being the first mermaid to actually break free from The Fisher and hurting you in the process.

"Krill," you mewled, feeling yourself get riled up as he pushed his hips upwards, allowing his cock to be rubbed against you rather than the other way around.

"Are you going to cum? Am I making you cum? Gods, you are so beautiful like this. I can't wait to watch you cum so prettily on my cock, Mate."

You knew better than to lose yourself in the pleasure, but to an infatuated merman, you must have looked like quite the wonder, disheveled, and horny as you rode him to the finish line. "You must cum, too," you gasped out as you were so close to your orgasm, knowing you were one mere push of his hips away from cumming from the intense friction and heat that tingled all through you.

"I am! I'm cumming with my mate, you can bet your pretty pearls on that!"

Krill was no liar. Because the moment you panted breathlessly, a single ridge flicking over your clit as Krill bucked his hips upwards, you both came fully undone. Your orgasm was overwhelming as you felt the cum travel through the long shaft, pushing its swelling into your pussy before exploding from the tip that you had worshiped before, but you were prepared this time, grabbing the test tube that you had hid in your wetsuit to hold it in front of the eruption happening before you. It filled with more ease than getting rid of the post-orgasm mind fog was for you, but even when you sacked down on top of him, you held the tube steady, not spilling a drop.

"Fuck…" you muttered, unable to remember the last time you came this hard. Certainly not from playing with yourself, that much was clear. Tasting his precum had to be an unknown aphrodisiac that you didn't know about; testing was inevitable. But for now, you had to get off and get your act together again.

"You good?" you asked, patting Krill's loin—the closest body part you could reach—before getting off him, classy like a cowboy but with a pussy aching and pulsing for the warmth it had experienced.

All you heard was Krill's low chuckle as a reply. He truly was awful at using his words, but you'd teach him that, you were sure now. Quickly, you stored the test tube with his sample in the fridge, jogging all the way over to keep it as fresh as possible. And from the workstation, you returned with more towels and a sense of stickiness all over your body. You hadn't noticed just how much of his cum had splashed onto your chest and stomach as well, nobody being safe from it, it seemed.

You were relieved to find his cock shrinking again. It was still massive, but it surely was going back to where it came from, and you had finally fulfilled one of the promises you had made. "You look pretty like this," Krill commented as you gave his stomach a good wipe down, semen splashing to the ground in unholy masses.

"Covered in your cum?" you asked mockingly and he chuckled. He sounded the most peaceful ever since you encountered him that day. No wonder, after having spent his essence in copious amounts twice.

"You look like a mate now. If I had you in my cave, I wouldn't let you wear anything but my seed ever again."

You grimaced. "Sounds mighty unhygienic."

"You'd come to like it."

The banter felt less aggressive now, although the topics were far from normal. Wringing out the third soiled towel, you sighed, announcing your defeat. "I give up." You dropped the towel, walking up towards his head again to press the buttons so Krill would be put back into the water. Once it had cleaned him, the filters could do the work of cleaning out the pool.

"Wait," he called out, and you stopped in your tracks, raising a brow at him.

"I want a… a kiss. I think I deserve that."

"I'm sorry who did all the work again?" you asked, faking your anger and Krill thought hard for a second.

"Then… you deserve a kiss. But I can't move, so you still have to come to me, Human."

You let out a laugh, but seeing how serious he was, you realized it wasn't a joke. You grew quiet as you thought about not wanting to but not wanting the mood to go sour after all that happened. It was all for the team building. Another trust exercise.

Capturing his head in your hands you didn't need to lean down much as he had enough mobility now and an idea of what to do, so Krill took the initiative to kiss you. He wasn't aggressive, didn't choke you with his tongue. But you quickly realized why you felt so icky doing it, its gentleness and the added trilling that reminded you of giggling too intimate to be between teammates. But you endured it for the sake of this experiment. The sake of reclaiming your future and actually be someone again and regain your freedom little by little. You did it only for that!

The sound of the door unlocking, the metal screeching as it swung open, made you recoil violently from the kiss. Krill hissed sharply, swinging his body helplessly in the restraints—but not against you.

A slow clap rang out through the laboratory, and you turned around, frightened, unable to hide the mess that was still everywhere and evident all over you. How were you going to explain this? Your worst nightmare had stepped into your new workspace, smiling from ear to ear, looking almost… proud?

"Wonderful! What a wonderful demonstration of bonding between mates," the Professor exclaimed skillfully ignoring Krill's aggression towards him. "I always knew you could do it, we just had to wait for the right moment."

"Professor, I…" you wanted to explain yourself, try to talk yourself out. Ignoring Krill's whining as you stepped away from his body, which could have been a protective shield to you, Krill quickly returned to hissing and threatening your superior as you moved towards him, desperate not to leave the wrong expression.

"No need," the Professor cut you off. "We saw everything and we are very impressed with your achievements."

He pointed towards the corner of the room, and you could have punched yourself for not realizing there was a camera with a red blinking light on the ceiling. Of course, they wouldn't have left you alone, even though they made your work out to be unimportant. "Fuck…" you muttered, defeated, knowing they had heard and seen everything.

"We aren't mates. He's wrong about that!" you explained, frustrated at the situation, but more angry at yourself. Your supervisor was behind the Professor, grinning like a kid on Christmas Eve about the development of the situation. Behind him, guards. Soldiers who were definitely underpaid but felt overly important in their role here at the facility. And they undoubtedly weren't here to guard you.

"Surely you don't mean that. Look at the poor guy. You've been breaking his heart every time you say it."

The Professor didn't touch you, and you couldn't begrudge him. He just raised his hands to your shoulders and you turned around on your own towards Krill, your eyes meeting. However, there was no such thing as disappointment. Just pure anger and restraint. It was your fault. You made him promise not to hurt anyone. And now he had given up, too.

"Let's put the fish back into the water and discuss your promotion. Matehood is so exciting, I can't wait to introduce you to another special mate of this one's cousin. I am sure you two will become best buds in no time!"

The cheery voice of the Professor did nothing to lift your spirit. You wanted to break free and do as he said, not wanting Krill to hear about these things and see you in this shameful moment. Tears were welling up and your supervisor went to push the buttons instead of you, feeling almost like you were betraying Krill's trust as his handler.

However, at the sound and motions of the machine's working, something inside Krill changed. He began struggling again, thrashing in The Fisher. "Don't you dare," he hissed, but at the Professor, rather than you. He began focusing his strength on one arm, The Fisher making an aching sound as the metal was strained.

"Stop it, Krill!" you called out, scared he'd hurt himself again, and his attention shifted to you.

"And let you be taken from me? I'd rather die!"

His heroics were admirable, but when the soldiers cocked their guns, you jumped forward. "No! No, wait! He's just confused from the drugs, he won't hurt you! Please don't shoot him!"

"Ah," the Professor sighed, much too relaxed in this kind of situation. "Young love. It's so sweet how far you two would go for each other."

This helped nothing to calm down the soldiers or Krill who was getting increasingly agitated as he hovered above the pool, waiting for the floor to open up fully. It was then that complete chaos unfurled itself. The sound of metal snapping next to you, followed by a heavy body falling to the ground. In an instant you were surrounded by darkness as Krill completely enveloped you, and you yelped, hearing gunshots ring out violently and the pained groan of your merman.

"No!" you screamed, thinking the worst. But as you lurched towards catching him from collapsing—a truly rash move as he'd easily bury you beneath him—Krill grabbed you by the waist. Before you knew what was happening, you were pulled into the water. You neither had the time to hold your breath nor to assess the situation as you sank to the depths, caught in Krill's hold while he was an unmoving mass weighing you down. You wanted to cry, thinking he was dead and so would you be. No one would fish you out of here, especially without knowing if the merman was still alive. And by the time they figured that out, you'd be long gone.

All you could do was wait out the inevitable drowning, and you commiserated this fateful meeting with the creature that destroyed your life in the first place. No… no, that wasn't fair. It wasn't Krill's fault. It wasn't even your own. You kept blaming yourself all this time, but in reality, it was the fault of greedy people and this facility that catered to them. Neither Krill nor you deserved what they were doing to you two. Had the circumstances been different, you might have come to an understanding and built a genuine, scientific relationship on trust. Although he was a handful, you had to admit.

Your thoughts flashed by like many others in your last moment, and it brought a smile to your face, remembering the stupid banter and even his insults and calling you 'human' desperately. You two were definitely even with you calling him creature and the like. Krill was a boisterous idiot and too cocky for his own good, but he could be sweet and caring. He listened, and he even protected you in the end. Reaching up, you found his neck, the air getting thin in your lungs as you hugged him tightly. He didn't deserve this. He really didn't.

The splashing of water was the last thing you heard before you lost your conscience, only for it to be immediately beaten into you as someone slapped your back over and over hard enough until you coughed up all the water in your lungs.

"And that's why we don't give them any freedom," the Professor's voice rang out, murrs of agreement echoing after. You felt his presence as he kneeled before you, the old man grunting from the strain. His finger dipped underneath your chin, raising your head to face him even if you vision was blurry still.

"Have you learned your lesson, [Name]? You'll never escape from here. I've made you into the amazing researcher you are, you are a product of my teachings. And you will provide me with the results we need. Only you can find the eternal life hidden in these creatures. I don't care what you have to do to get it. Mate him, fuck him, get your needs met by a monster, but afterwards you'll come to me with a product that will give you back your freedom, alright?"

"Krill…" you coughed. "What about him?"

"Oh, he'll be fine. A few doses of adrenaline and his body will regenerate."

Letting go of you, your head fell forward to cough out some more water that burned in your nose alongside the tears in your eyes, but you couldn't grasp the situation in front of you properly.

"I am so glad we fished you out there before it was too late," the Professor exclaimed, always thick on the dramatics. "What would we have done if we lost you two, huh? It would have been such a shame to lose our best researcher and their mate to such a little mishap, right, [Name]?"

This time, when you looked up, you couldn't help but glare at the person you had so admired when you were still studying under him. He was nothing but an insane maniac who would do anything to get an end to his means. Sacrificing merfolk, sacrificing humans. It didn't matter, but he made it clear that there would be no escaping him. No escaping at all… hm.

How did you set the orcas free in the past?

"Right," you mumbled, your lungs still hurting from the water.

"I'm glad we are on the same page," the Professor laughed, but all you could do was try to remember how you escaped before. The memories eluded you, but there had been a way for sure. For now, you had to admit your defeat as you watched Krill's barely alive body being transported away and out of sight. The door to the laboratory remained open as everyone left you behind, but you didn't feel like going at all.

You had to.

Getting to your feet, you had to follow wherever they were bringing Krill. And you had to remember how you managed to let them escape before. And when the time came, you'd go with them. But you needed access to the mermaids until then, perhaps some more companions. You lost your freedom, your new position as 'mate' hanging over your head like the blade of a guillotine. But even so, you had to push on, fight for what you wanted.

You lost the fight but not the war.

And when the time came, you'd make sure that this time, no one would stand in the way of your freedom.

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year2000electronics · 5 months

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BroZone Bounty

What happens when the Perfect Family Harmony works... a little too well? When BroZone discover their combined power can unleash a particularly persuasive song, they're determined to make it to the top of the charts by any means necessary.

Years after they got banished from Pop Village, Brozone becomes a boy band of bounty hunters who use their harmonies like sirens do to hunt down their prey. When they get a message from Queen Barb to grab the Pop string from Pop Village, they're all to eager to oblige and get revenge on the trolls who banished them. There's only one problem, though- along the way, each of the brothers might just find themselves falling in love...

#trolls #brozone bounty au #dreamworks trolls #my art #ITS. FINALLY. DONE!!!!

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darkdemeter · 1 month

Text

𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍, 𝐁𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐕:

— BUCKY BARNES COLUMN

Dark Pirate! Bucky Barnes x Siren! Female Reader

—- gifs/images found on pinterest, credit to original posters -—

| A/N | DISCRETION |

Wow, I was expecting y’all to be absolutely ruthless and kill Mina to escape. But a few of you were right on it like hounds, you smart cookies, haha...

SMUT 18+ minors dni — oral receiving (male) — slight breeding kink — dubcon (imma just put this here just in case — possessive, dark bucky — dom/sub dynamic — minor profanity — secondary character death — angst — pet name usage — I think that's it? (There may be some grammar/missed editing, will come back sometime later and fix those mistakes)

| SUMMARY |

He is your captain, and he is holding you prisoner. You are his siren, and your fate is one of bound damnation.

*6.7𝐤 ────────────────┘

| M-LIST | TAGLIST:

@identity2212 @sebastianstansqueen @openup-yourmind @kandis-mom @calwitch @cjand10 @ashdoctor @missmarvelophilic @mostlymarvelgirl @daddy-bucky @thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction @armystay89 @oscarissac2099 @boobsbeesbongos @wallacewillow0773638

────────────────┘

No. It’s worth weighs not in balance with the shedding of her blood, her very life, and your captain knows he has won. Head bowed low until the tresses of your hair fall about to frame your face like a shroud, hands sheltering the necklace with uncertainty, you turn your head towards your captain and Mina. Your hueful eyes, expressive in their nature of care beyond your own preservation, you would never willingly put your dear friend in the midst of harm. So, with a shake of your head at Mina’s tearful glare that spurs you to flee, you reject your chance of freedom in exchange for hers.

Primed still at the exposure of her throat, he guards her while you approach forward, elegantly submissive under the wake of his darkened stare, the bright tinge of blue awaits you with lust and longing. Nearing his side, the golden chain runs over your skin, a strike of pure and cold guilt pushes a burdensome weight on your heart at the passing of sorrowful voices that vanish upon his imprisoning hold.

“Good girl,” he purrs with a flaunt of his pleased grin. Teeth that render you with possessive marks on display, taunting you with what’s to come. It is with tenderness that the softened caress of your hands meet over the tanned muscle of his hand that harbours death at his whim, eyes pleaful and coaxing with a want for an end to this needless violence; to forget its happening and be in the smothered encompassing of your beloved captain.

His fingers curl tighter to the hilt of his blade. “Please…” Heaven pours the purest of waters into the goblet of a sinful man at the sound of such an angelic plea, fluttering from your parted lips his eyes cannot lessen his want for. As if entranced by the lull of your voice, he nods with a thinned smile of his plump, pink lips and withdraws the bite of metal from her throat. Mina lurches forward, stumbling with a sharp gasp, and you catch her a moment before she can find salvation in revenge.

“Young one,” she insists quickly as she latches hold of your wrist. Something resides in her face that pales, along the ridge of her eyes is a thickened beam of tears, but she gives you a smile. One she often adorned to banish your fears. In the etched lines of your confusion, she only smiles wider until the tears can no longer be held at bay, unleashing in finely thinned rivers.

You mean all to me. I love you.

Her body succumbs and melts around you the moment you embrace her. Her arms are a haven around you, a blanket of safety you miss, a sensation you long to have. But she is sudden to pull away, holding her palm up and flat, she gestures for you to move back.

Go. Now.

In spite of their grievances and war over you, you see a mutual glance shared between Mina and your captain, her eyes firm in ensued silence but imploring something of him. “Come, siren,” says Bucky, his strong hands encase you and pull you from Mina, your outstretched hands graze her own that will to entangle with yours, but falter.

She nods at you to go with your captain and you allow yourself to sink into the muscled crevice of his side, his hand holstering you flush to him as he guides you back towards the shore. He gives you no chance to let your course of gaze to linger back towards Mina. The low hum of his voice mumbles something to Wanda and the witch grins with an all too eager nod of her head. Now with you in his grasp, he leads you back towards the ship with those of the hunting party following behind.

You’re pressed on to move with haste, the salty winds sweep up the sandy embankments with a fearsome bellow that hums deeply in your rings, your robe barely clinging to cover your modesty. Only just over the beach’s mounding crest and through the howl of Nassau’s haunting wind, your body flinches inward to your captain at the echo of a scream that cracks through the swaying palms and over the bounding waves until the sound can travel no further.

Your feet run the wooden boards of the cabin at the behest of his forceful hand that shoves you through its threshold, the warrant of his wrath, the price you’ll pay for daring to insult him through your little deception.

“You test the bounds of my tolerance and kindness, siren,” he warns behind a bar of gritted teeth, he hisses without remorse for your shedded tears that follow, “You are bound to ME!”

With fear all-consuming, you fall to your knees, hands press to the scuffed boards’ lining and your chin bows low to levels of his preference.

You cry out, the profuse outpour of tears that line your face does little to quell the raging tide of his anger. “I-I’m sorry!”

“Quiet!” he barks and you reply with naught but a trembling nod. “I’ve been merciful to you. I’ve given you belonging, shelter and security, and this is how you repay all that? With this insult!”

His height that towers over you like a commanding shadow sinks to kneel before you, the musk of his scent wafts in lingering cascades upon you, encasing you in times that once were; without this consistent turmoil of your curious nature.

But that’s what you were: curious. Why your captain holds guardianship over this particular necklace, its mystery undeniable to lure in your want to know, its attention and the way it glimmers and shines in the sunlight’s light. And the now fading voices. This necklace is yours, at least it was at some point in time, a piece of you that now your captain harbours as his own. Through it, somehow, it binds you to him. The key to your imprisonment… but also your freedom.

“You’ve to be punished now.” His words spoken levelly bring a chill to wisp down your spine and needle through your skin, sewing a patchwork of unrest into the faint glamour of your receded, softened scales, and your pupils are blown dark and wide with your evident terror. Punishment is never struck on a whim when it comes to your captain. No, punishment is served at the wrong doings, and in performing poorly to his orders, that punishment can vary. But for you, it falls under the same cloth, a figment garment that never holds to you for long. For it is stripped from you as you enact yourself in service until he sees your crimes duly paid in full. And usually, it is after he has pumped you full, until your cunt is sorely abused and leaking with his seed.

Cool metal dances under your chin and before you can find a surmisable amount of courage to fight, he sharply upturns the tilted axis of your eyes to meet his. Ferocious as the battles he orchestrates at sea, and piercingly cold as the wintry peninsula of the arctic that your skin and muscle is butchered until your bones ache. Yet in the delicately lightened pools of his oceanic eyes, lies a strange tenderness. But it is one that never smiles. Never softens. Not in the way Mina implied. For your captain’s heart is a black one, guarded in the fortress of his cruelty. That which he holds you to the level of his eye is not a testament of love.

Captain James Barnes, the White Wolf, cannot love. Much to the naivety of your own heart, that soon after broke at this revelation of truth some time ago, you came to accept that in his darkened heart, yearns the ever hungry curse of lust. A hunger you must now feed or forever be enslaved, and mind erased at the coming of his witch’s scarlet magic.

“Yes… I do…”

Your answer is met with a hum of approval, deep and throaty. Over the canvas of his features, there’s a smirk woven into his lips, sly and beautifully sinister in his internal fantasies he makes real upon the unity of your intimacy. You cannot help the blossom of need in your core upon meeting the darkened hue of his eyes that proclaim loudly through the veil of desires unspoken.

“Correct answer,” he applauds with another purr accentuating his deep voice, the flutter of your lashes a visible effect of his spell over you. But beneath his praise and all good words that come forth from his lips, you know what answer he seeks newly and intensely. At its mere thought, a power surges through you, a sensation that circuits through the tips of your fingers and down between your legs, gathering a layer of slickness that settles over the wooden floor.

“Your child,” you say, lips but a ghost’s touch apart, “your bastard…”

“There’s a good lass,” he chuckles with a devilish grin and pushes forward, lips smashing onto yours with unparalleled force that drives your spine to curl back, at your hips he pulls you to him. His teeth gnaw and stab, his tongue roughly seeks out the delicate line of your mouth, priming it before his invasion that draws a string of quietened moans from the chasm beneath your breasts. Between them and the hardened peaks at their centres, the idle brush of silver reminds you of his name. Reminds you of whom you are bound to.

You whimper at the first lashing of his tongue that threatens yours in intimate combat, and with little will to fight and claim dominance, you allow him to defeat you. He is brutal in the carnage his wet muscle unleashes. Hungrier and hungrier. Closer, you pull yourself to the realm of his lap, crawling in the vice of his passionate indulgence.

He all but wraps you in the embrace of his arms and sweeps you up from the floor, pinning you to his hardened, muscular front with a long groan, the taste of your tongue coiling around his enough to make him delirious. Your robe falls from your shoulders and rests in the crook of your elbows, allowing your captain to ravish the nakedness of your shoulders and chest, marking your skin. He suckles, drawing dark pigments to form as a reminder of who it was that could only have you like this.

Bucky’s quick to thrust you down on the bed. Forced at his will, you’re splayed upon your stomach and he forces your hips to arch up until the curve of your spine is perfectly at level to his liking.

“Are you goin’ to be a good girl for me, siren?” The question comes as a dark wave. The scent of his breath washes over you, you can smell the intoxicating flavour of lust. “Are you going to let your womb become swollen?”

His metal hand comes to lift beneath the flesh of your smooth stomach, resting there. Ever gentle to tease, his fingers dance their way down lower, not quite gracing the needy pulse between your thighs, his cock hard and stiff against the apex of your arse, slowly he grinds up and down.

You give an obedient nod and a breathless sigh, “Yes, Captain…”

He grinds further down against you, having all but ripped the robe from your body, the only barrier between your bodies is the tight confines of his dark trousers that do little to hide the body of his erected length. You shudder beneath the behemoth of his form, his heat poisonously soothing to the cooler temperature of your own.

His lips find the delicate, curved shell of your ear as he breezes with a husky hum, “There’s a good little siren.”

His metal fingers prod at the sensitive mound of your aroused bud, pulling a string of pleasured hisses and whines like a musician plucking the noted hymn of his trusty instrument. His thumb rolls slowly to the rock of the ship as his other fingers toy with the moistened slit of your pussy that craves to have anything he’ll give.

You pant heavily, hair mused to falter in unkempt wisps that fall over your eyes. He whispers against the finery of your flesh, praising it over every inch exposed to him. His thumb now rolls harder and his metal digits push between your folds, ignoring the low whine and startled quiver of your thighs that bounce in their shaken balance, teetering over the bed’s edge only to be supported by the pillar of his waist that pummels into you roughly.

Your eyes flutter to a close, engrossed in the motion of his fingers, the chilling kiss that smoulders the writhing waves of heat of your walls, your core now a blazing furnace that pleads for more. A filthy moan escapes you at the tugging of his expert technique, leaving him to chuckle darkly from behind.

“Dirty little whore, aren’t ya?” All you can do is nod in reply, wriggling in his grasp, your hips thrust down on his hand with feverish need.

His flesh hand punishes you with a slap, the echoing sound causes you to shriek. Frozen, he then stabilises you with his other hand that bites into the shape of your hip until he’s capable of leaving defined bruising. “You’re at my whim, Siren,” he growls hoarsely, “and you’re still serving your punishment.”

He knows you near your orgasm. Your impatience to reach it noticeable and just when at the ridge of your climatic bliss, he withdraws his fingers from your cunt. It takes everything you have to not mewl and cry in protest. He turns you to lay on the flat of your spine, up into the glower of his piercing stare, and without so much as blinking, his flesh hand weaves to unfasten the buckle of his belt and tosses the leather strap to the floor with a metallic thunk. With a heavy knee that tips the scales, it pushes down on the mattress along your side with a muffled groan, his body hovers over you. Meanwhile, he invades your mouth with the numerous digits coated in your juices. You moan lowly at the taste that sizzles on your tongue, washing your buds with your sweet nectar.

With a simple rustle and tug, his pants fall loosely to gather below his strongly built waist, fabric bunching together to hold fast from falling to the floor too quickly. Free from the tight constraints now, his cock brushes over the navel of his abdomen, the long under-vein pulsing with heated pools of blood and his thick, pink tip oozing with need in the form of pebbling drops of pre-cum. Pushing his hips forward and tearing his metal fingers from your mouth, ignoring the connecting thread of saliva, he pulls your head until your lips bump plushly to his weeping head. His flesh hand traces the contour of your jawline with ghosting touch, your hair becomes ravelled tightly in the locked grip of his other.

“Let’s see how well you sing when my cock is fucking your throat,” he says beneath a wheezing chuckle. He growls then, still humoured by his remark, “Open.”

Your defiance to obey his command is futile. Somehow, you know this, though you believe you’ve never tried. Contact locked between your eyes, your pliant lips part and sink around his enormous girth, barely able to tolerate far before you’re already caught gagging. He laughs at your attempt to take him whole, always amused at the sighted struggle written into every inch and crevice of your face. Now that he thinks about it, it has been some time since he’s taken you down the throat, his flesh hand rolls from your jaw and down the side columns of your neck with the continuation to submerge his cock further in. Beneath his calloused fingers, your neck swells and the skin protrudes as his cock intrudes until finally, your nose brushes the dark curls of his base.

Your lashes are darkened and wet by the stream of tears lining the brim of your eyes, nose flaring aggressively for even a morsel of air.

With a tilt of his chin he indicates for you to begin, his eyes warning of greater punishment if you decide otherwise. You slowly pull your head back, the stiffness of his hardened length running against the walls of your throat and mouth, covering every inch possible. As much as you can, you barely allow your teeth to tease him, fearful of what he’d do if you got any ideas with your sharp incisors. Rumbling with a pleasured groan, your captain snaps his hips sharply to sheathe himself again, much to a shattered, muffled whine coming from you. Your pace is too slow. And so, with a twist of your locks, he rolls his hips back and forth in a pace set to his liking, adoring the flow of tears streaming down your face. You continue to cough and gag, throat tightening in pulsing waves that quicken yet fade the longer you go without sufficient air.

“F-fuck, siren,” he groans as his head dips back, hair licking down the nape of his neck in long, dark tresses. His hips roll faster and his fingers hold tight to feel the quickened strike of his cock that surges back and forth inside you, your moans growing louder and lost in a whirlwind and blissful agony.

“Every drop, little Siren— sh-shit!” he thrusts harder at the filthy image of his spent spilling from the enclosure of your jaw and trickling down your neck in artistic rivers. The frantic course of his thrusts causes an obscene amount of sound to echo through the room, the slickened gargle of your hot, tiny mouth trying to accommodate his size through what little intake of air you can harvest, your cheeks flushed a bright hue of red that rivals that of the blood of his enemies. His lips part with a series of gasps and deep moans pumped from his chest, his release soon upon him.

“Drink— it all up– love,” he utters with a string of curses soon following his order. His grip seizes hold to the roots and your scalp burns, your discomforted whine drowned out by the flood of his seed that shoots past your tongue and straight into the bowel of your belly without restraint. His spent comes in tidal waves of hotness, unable to register his taste entirely, thick ropes of his cum paint and coat the walls of your mouth, leaving naught but a messy web of his release to coagulate once he withdraws.

In sight of you with your mouth full of him, he smirks, a dark and wicked thing to behold to and beneath the smouldering, glassy gaze that’s coal-like; fearsomely burning in his reverie of desire. He sighs a sound so deep it rumbles off his tongue like the fine course of a flowing river.

“How beautiful you are… on your knees and full of my love.”

Love?

Is that what his seed is a representation of? You blink, wet and dark lashes beating damp markings against the undercurve of your eyes, he sees the surprise in your enlarged pupils.

He cannot mean ‘love’. He is not capable of it…

But how you wish he was. Oh, what you would give for this man to be able to love. To actually know the fine line between material treasures and true, unbridled and passionate love. Funny, how a siren wishes internally for the concept of love and to be loved, the very essence of that emotion only comes to that of the affectionate sisterhood of other sirens. A bond that envelops through both scales and soul.

A bond that, if severed, can have lasting impacts on the heart and mind. So much so, that a siren’s song can turn into one of longing sorrow and despair, and when that essence of love and lust is gone, there is no longer a song.

Only the sounds of cries and shrill screams that echo in the mists, void of any emotion other than vengeance and rage.

He summons your attention with a sharp whistle that pierces the veil of your thoughts, ringing loud and clear in your ears.

“Eyes up, siren. I wanna see those eyes on me when I fuck you.”

Upon capturing the colour of your eyes, the casted amber glow from the candles reflecting in glittering highlights, his smirk only grows into a toothy grin that pulls the seams around his eyes to crinkle slightly. He watches with keen interest as you gulp down each swallowing of his cum, until the gaping blackness of your throat is all that remains, leaving a thin coating behind.

“How do I taste, little siren?”

“G-good… Captain,” you answer, voice shaken. Broken in and slightly roughened. Something that stirs his pride greatly. His lips brush the velvety texture of your moan, memorising each stroke to memory with a drunken groan.

Intoxicated by the venom of his attention, you’re powerless as he leans over you, knees bent into the bed on either side of you, caging you beneath him. His hands, a mix of metal and flesh - a combination of cold and warm - follow the curvature of your jaw and sweep down your neck, following the natural dips and bends of your body. Over the linen of his loosely ruffled blouse, your hands are gentle in their tug, pulling at it.

Amused by your antics, Bucky leans back a moment and peels the shirt over his large shoulders, your eyes drink in the scarred field of his muscular body, the dark line of hair trailing down to the base of his cock that revives and flourishes with a heated, deep pink tint.

In your moment of jaw-slackened admiration, Bucky’s lips delve to the crook of your neck, nose nestling in deep to inhale your alluring scent that mingles and rubs with his own, husky growls emit from some deep chamber within him in his frenzy to claim every inch of you he can. With a pivot of his hips that move forward, he excites your weeping and desperately aching core with the enthralling length of his cock, a stone striking against stone to bring a sparking ember.

Your nails carve red streaks over his inked skin, muscle ripples beneath the pads of your fingers and he hisses deliciously, a sound you swallow with greed.

“Look at you,” he mumbles against your jaw, peppering your chin and the corner of your lips with kisses. “Taking what’s yours. You’re learning to be as black hearted as I.”

Never has he applauded you in such a way. Not once has he rewarded this behaviour with praise and amusement. It’s always him that’s been dominant, to triumph over you. But not a moment too soon can you be lost to this idea that he wanes in his power, for his teeth sink deep between your neck and shoulder, enough to draw the bitter iron taste of your blood, you wince under the heavy pressure of his mark. “But I’ll always be the one on top.”

“Yes, Captain,” you gasp quickly to the beat of his growl. His tongue soothes his bite before he takes one of your swollen peaks between his plush lips, tongue darting over it. Your moans are music to his ears. Granting the same treatment to the other before he turns you over, his actions rough with a grunt, he stares a moment upon the bareness of your spine, the ever-faint shimmer of softened scales reflect differing hues of greens, blues and pinks against the colour of your skin.

Your face brushes firmly over the furs and silks to peer past and over your shoulder, up at the darkened frame of your captain, eyes darkened and lost to the storm of his lust.

His large head spears teasingly at your entrance, lips quivering in anticipation and attempting to latch hold, to knock his tip within grasp. He scoffs at the pitiful display below him, your whines and broken mewls a song of your dependence on him. You’d never survive without him, he grins darkly at the thought. You rely too much on him now, stripped of everything you knew before, he holds you in the palm of his hand and at his tether. An obedient plaything.

At the swift motion of your hips, Bucky dips back, your attempt failing miserably with an exasperated sigh. “Now, siren,” he coos, cocking a brow you barely see, you hear the infatuation that laces his tone. “I want you to beg for it. You sound so beautiful when you do.”

“Please,” you whimper that stifles at the reward of his tip brushing your aroused lips. You whine again, louder, “Please!”

The snap of his hips is quick and he thrusts hard, pushing the breath from your lungs in the form of a breathless scream that winds you. Buried almost to his haired base within one go, he pushes what remains until his cock nestles snugly in your pulsing walls that constrict around his girth; choking in with dire need.

“Fuckin— hell–” he bites down into his lip with a deep hiss as he draws his hips back, only to then repeat the first slaughtering wave that penetrated you, another gust of breath pushed from your lungs. You cough, spluttering and moaning in muffled choruses when he picks up the pace, driving his cock in and out, the sound drowning your eardrums with only the backdrop of his voice threads through, you’re practically deaf to your own noises.

“So t-tight–” he chokes out, the impact of his thrusts increases until your body shuffles back and forth, his hands squeeze to your hips to keep you from moving across the bed from his ruthless pace. Arching himself that bit higher and angling you with him, your ears pop and ring with a scream that tears through your vocal cords, loud enough to be heard from outside the cabin, no doubt.

“Like that, siren? Right there, is that where— shit, where you— need me?”

You cry out in reply, voice barely able to form the words, “U-uh– yes!”

The tightness that ripples through your body and heats your skin begins to form, the weaving of your orgasm soon nearing, your only hope that he grants you it this time, you continue to appeal to him, begging him for more and more until your cunt aches from the constant pummeling of his drive. Each time your walls squeeze around him, it’s tighter than the last, a telltale that your body is ready to let go.

“Cap–Captain!” you gasp into the sheets with a deep, longing moan. “Please… oh, please…”

His lips tug at the corners into a devilish grin, fingers embedding themselves to bruise your hips. “You want to cum?”

You cannot bring yourself to answer lest you scream again and break your voice for good, he sees the intense bop of your head.

“Cum for me, little siren, cum on my cock,” he barks and you follow his command. Like the pulling current of the forbidden and dark maelstrom, you release yourself with a heavy and breathless moan as you cum. His own pouring of his seed follows within seconds of your own, your walls drinking every drop of him until he’s all but spent inside you. He grunts from behind, a series of laborious noises, he begins to slow his hips but doesn’t cease to a complete stop.

His hips roll slowly until he grinds circles, his cock still embedded deeply into your abused pussy that’s stuffed full of him and his cum, all but weeping around him in hopes of leaking out. Your skin is duly from the thin layer of sweat coating you like a second skin, your chest heaves for air after having been robbed of every single breath, but the trace of his lips brings you pause.

He’s not done with you just yet.

Glasses of sand pass through hours of unrelenting torture, brought out through orgasmic bliss and pleasures and pain, all until both he and you were beyond another round. Your entire body felt broken in, shaking with nerves frazzled and your muscles tense after trying to claw your way out of his grasp - for even just a moment of reprieve - but he’d dragged you back to him from your ankles and pinned you down.

Left in darkness, the candles having lost their will and wick to burn, you blink through the overhanging shroud of sleep that clings to you. Your body remains to recover and you struggle to crane yourself to even rest on your elbow and peer down at your captain. Asleep on the plane of his back, his chest rises slowly with deep inhales and breezing exhales. His metal hand lazily holds against the hind of your arse, every so often giving it a firm grip. His other hand rests on the rise of his toned stomach, the gold barely noticeable in the dark, the pearl emits a dim glow. The voices, however, sing a dying symphony that are barely heard above your breath.

You draw closer until you half straddle over his waist, your fingers comb over the veins of his hand and wrist, down and over his thick, strong fingers, ringing the chain loose until the necklace is held in your palms once again. You’d done all to tire him out to near completion so that he’d not be as alert as any other time. Now all you cling onto is hope that your plan is not one of failure.

Your nails grow from the beds and sharpen, eyes flickering between his sleeping features and the necklace, your hand hovers above him.

The air is thick in your lungs, tense as you scan for a place to safely gather enough blood that he won’t notice in his sleep. Your eyes and hand move down the length of his body until they reach the apex of his lower abdomen, grazing just near the trail of dark hair, your claws slash an opening. Pouring in thin, bleeding streams, you coat the pearl quickly. The pearl glows brighter now, the taste of crimson allows the white to fight through the hue of red, adorning a pinkish colour. You move to sit, balancing half way atop your captain, you next move to your palm, your sharpened fang punctures into the tender flesh of your other palm, you swallow a pained hiss.

With a final glance towards your sleeping captain, you’re aware there will be no going back from this. Mina’s sacrifice will not be in vain. You lay the pearl into the thin pool of blood, the pearl beats with glowing life that compares to that of the full moon, the song returning to levels now louder, revived from their near death.

Through the ripples of time, a white flush blinds you with a vision.

Brightly, the sun lays high and over the ocean that moves in ever-rolling waves, the ripples form on its surface with unrest, a vast world of different shades of blue, all a-mingling together in harmony. The ocean envelops you - welcomes you - and your tail thrashes in excited beats that leave behind a fading cloud of bubbles.

Around you, faces greet you with fanged smiles, wistful and playful eyes that are soft in their tender gaze that hold to you.

Faces you find yourself remembering now, but their names evade you.

Breaking the ocean’s surface, the sun drowns your vision with bleeding heat, your brows scrunch but your grin is present and full. A sense of great excitement buzzes throughout your entire body, stomach alight with wonderment, you wonder… What is this feeling about?

Then you see her and you now know. Her stature is grand and towering, she too breaks through the barrier between worlds with a hum of contentment, her features warmed in the blazing sun’s light. Her hair falls down over her shoulders in long, cascading tendrils, braided with dazzling ornaments and a variety of shells, each one a treasured gift presented, a crown forged in mystic metal shines.

Her eyes are giant pools of amber, a stark contrast when she resides in her kingdom below the waters and in the abyssal midnight. Eyes that are forever watchful and guarding, ever-seeing and always brimming with unfaltering love.

“Children,” she sings low and slowly, a note of adoration in her voice. All those of siren-kind are known as her children, but for you, you are one whose blood is annointed. From her womb, years ago, she shed tears of happiness. A child to whom she’d come to name Y/N. Daughter, and princess, of sirens.

Around her waist is the cycle of sirens that envelop her, circling her in their gladness to see her emerge from the depths below, every so often does she make her way to the surface, only for special occasions. Those who do not rush to swim circles around her, they gather onto the lagoon rocks.

“My beloved children,” again she coos soothingly with a rolling lullaby. But her eyes are sudden to sink, her smile is then to vanish as an abrupt wave of panic consumes her. Her amber eyes turn towards the horizon behind you and her form blacks out the sun, covering you in her looming shadow.

“Submerge—!”

Screams of a thousand voices echo into the sky and ripple through the water as spiralling currents that pierce you like blades. Her body bends forward at the bombardment of fire upon her, her neck cranes forward with a reverberating cry, her pain is felt by all.

Yet she pleads for her children to delve below, to hide beneath the blackened blue that no humans would dare to venture lest they succumb to their demise.

Ships break into view, bouncing on the waves as tyrants. Breakers of peace. “Mother!” you shout, a webbed hand outstretched only to turn swiftly at the ship headed straight for you. The sight of a carven lady poised at the hull’s front, adorned in a skinned pelt of a wolf upon her head, you’d recognise it anywhere. The Avenger. The ship continues at you, leaving you no choice but to dive out of the way just before her front could bruise and slay you bluntly.

Your vision succumbs to a flurry of bubbles and darkness, only to re-awaken above the waves, the sky now traded for night. The moon is full, clouds unable to restrain its light for long in passing and the inky black canvas is riddled with sparkling, silver gems.

The Avenger’s anchor is reeled in with haste, panic ensues within the form of night and battle commences between that of your kind and the species that dwells on land, that which you prey upon: Man.

Those of your small clustered hunting party are hunted, spears puncture through the water until they sink into flesh or fall to the trench’s deep. You swerve, turn swiftly to be missed, but some aren’t so fortunate as you.

You came here to hunt and your quarry is what you’ll drag to the depths. Barreling upwards, a tunnel of water sprays about you as you launch yourself airborne, high and overarching towards the helm where you’d last seen him.

Fangs bared into a hissing scream, slitted eyes of a predator bear into the frame of a tall man with dark, long hair and your clawed hands stretch out in your attack. A voice of one of his crew yells for his attention a moment too late. His blue eyes come to find yours just as you land atop him, pinning him to the wooden railing before pushing him overboard. You have him pinned, your grasp tight on your prey that escaped you just a few moments ago in the disturbed peace of his cabin, he struggles against you.

You immediately begin to burrow your claws into his shoulder to fight him, teeth gnawing on his flesh and through bone, but still he fights back with waning strength and breath, eyes a pure kind of blue that outmatch the palette around his soon-to-be grave. A whirling of crimson follows him down, his weight shifts in the balance to your favour at the loss of his arm that sinks into the depths below.

His lips part and pockets of air come from them in large bubbles, his lids begin to close and you grant him a sweetened smile, eyes half lidded in your victory that is sudden to end at the grasp of his hand around your throat and the cutting robe of a net that encompasses you both.

In your battle to wriggle free, his arm wraps around you as the net is dragged upwards and towards the hull. Air from the world fills your chest and the once dark sky of a starlit night is returned to day. Around you, ships blast cannon fire and the air is polluted by smoke and the overpowering, scented winds of gunpowder.

Those familiar faces now are lifeless, eyes dull and lifeless and staring as blood poisons the sea around them, turning into murky clouds of crimson around you. It forces you to the surface and the moment you do, a voice shouts through the fabric of slaughter, the screams of your pod an orchestra of death and torment.

Your head turns to the direction of your mother, who battles the fleet of ships, a brutal display of annihilation only to then be fired upon and lurch forward, the being of her wounds worsens under the attack. Her eyes find yours amidst the chaos and you begin your way to her.

“You must flee!” she yells, a hand stretches out for you in warning to then shield you from a dozen harpoons with a harrowing call of whistles. Tears mist your vision before a spray of more fire separates you, driving you under the water and occasionally leaping through the air momentarily to avoid getting lost in the tainted, bloody waters.

You dare not look back, not as smoke rides over and veils your mother, not as her cries of battle turn further into the pain she’s subjected to nor the crashing wave of her body that falters and ripples through the ocean until it shudders the earth’s core.

But that same ship hunts you, the carven lady with a wolf’s pelt chases you over the unending sheets of raging waves, driving you further and further away from your family, your friends; all that you held dear. The many newborns that were attending the grand ball of daylight would never come to know their second. The choir would never sing your harmonic tunes as the sun faded over the ocean’s horizon. Never would you see your mother’s loving gaze attend you or her other precious children.

Never again would siren society be the same, without its queen, and without its people. Launching yourself out and into harm’s way to avoid another blooded cloud, you hear his voice shout, “Alive! I want her alive!”

Your head turns and your eyes widen at the flash of scarlet that comes towards you, rendering you unconscious.

Him. It’d been him all along. Him, as he now stares at you with eyes a fearsome burn of darkened blue, awake and alert to your doings. You hardly come to realise the soaking streams of tears that run down your cheeks and drip onto his stomach, each one shed in the regaining of your memory. Remembering that which was all lost to you. Taken from you. By him.

“Y/N, my love,” he affirms with a raise of his hands, each one cupping the wet curve of your jaw between them, the ominous and often looming storm in his eyes lays distantly. He coddles you now with his affections. “Pearl… I did it all for you. Because I love you.”

Your head bends forth to rest in the crook of his neck, chests bare and pressed together, your breaths are shallow tremors that turn into muffled chords of weeping sorrow. Come morning, scarlet will rot your knowledge and turn you blind once again. But for now, you relish in his confession whilst you ponder: does his love justify his means?

For now, you will bide your time. Live another day… and sate your everloving vengeance.

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Well, we've reached the conclusion of our tale, readers. To think this all started with a single oneshot that was meant to just be a sole piece. But some of you wanted more and thus, this au grew a little more.

I thank you all for reading this series, I'm glad that it's provided some source of entertainment for you, it's been a pleasure. You readers have a lovely time now, remember to be nice to your fellow tumblrs and give your biggest love and support for your writers!

Captain Barnes and Pearl wish you happy reading and writing, Tumblrs 💙

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