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bloodredx · 7 months

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Day 5: Choice

The Abyss shivered within, for Isiri was the Abyss and the Abyss was she. But the mind was tricky, for such beings were not made to think, at least not in the same ways that follow the limitations of neurons or brain cells. Memories of her life prior to awakening often conflated or contradicted with the things before her eyes. Cultures mixed and fused, but one thing remained clear: purpose.

The natural order of things was the ideal. Such details were a constant shifting pool of murk, secrets, and darkness, as was the nature of the Abyss. But the constant remained: it was the purpose for its existence, in this form or any other. However, the will of nature was that at times, those in nature called for it. And so here she came, though at the time she didn’t know it. But now she did, Awake and getting used to being able to exert her control over darkness and the sea, for they were her. Yet here she was; a fish and an entity who was summoned, through what methods were not quite yet known to her, to the presence of a people she never knew before yet always knew. So far from Earth and home, and yet still so bonded, woven within a tapestry of sea water, space, time, and Glass.

Isiri lowered her head watching from her tank in the Marine Biology Lab. The scientists rushed around, always busy, but at this moment even more so as the Captain had graced the halls with their presence. The energy had changed palpably, as each tried to show the best of their work to their leader. The mermaid continued her observation, not paying much attention to any of the words exchanged between the humans. In truth, the mermaid was uncharacteristically silent. No song burbled from her lips and gills, not a light from her bioluminescence sparkled across her scales. The Abyss was strong, dark and silent, working despite the stillness within this confined water.

Darkness knew darkness, this much was a universal truth. And in the eyes of the Abyss, Captain Tara resonated with itself. Pain, suffering, and perseverance were all there, as were pride, creation, and most importantly, hope. Hope for less suffering. Hope for true freedom. Hope for those who came after to not have to deal with the limitations of the present. Though she had already done so much, there was much more work to be done. The Captain was at a turning point, as was Isiri. There were many questions that remained. Extinction was the course of nature, but the Abyss had picked at Earth for so long. It couldn’t let go, not just yet. But was it right? Would direct action break the previously expended slight tweaks and suggestions made in the past? Isiri didn’t know. But she did know that the Captain was one of the reasons she was here, if not THE reason. And with her lay the solution. The darkness therein, roiling with uncertainty and hope were evident in the Captain’s eyes. Eyes that were lingering a bit too long in the direction of Isiri’s tank. Isiri met their gaze, though there was little doubt the Captain’s eyes could see her response. But she would feel it.

(OC-tober prompts by @oc-tober2023 can be found here. Captain Tara belongs to @gi-ie-ru.)

#Isiri #mermaid #deep sea mermaid #deep sea #the abyss #darkness #primordial #Captain Tara #OC: Tara 2680-B #scifi #choice #oc-tober #oc tober #oc-tober 2023 #oc #writers on tumblr #bloodredx writes #prompt

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 2 months

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Private Dances [1]

Club!Blue Jones X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi • request info • series masterlist •

A/N: A MASSIVE HUGE THANK YOU TO THE WONDERFUL, AMAZING, STUNNING @lonelyisamyw-0love for not just being one of the kindest and best people ever, but also for tipping me on ko-fi! Here is a little gift for you 💚

(Also, I'm so sorry this became more than one part.)

Warnings: overuse of italics, sub!Blue, choking, biting, a little blood, hand job, there's some power dynamics in here because reader is a dancer (but like Blue is getting his ass handed to him), swearing, badly proofread, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 2680

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The best course of action was to stay out of his way, really. That had been your plan so far at least.

Avoid his attention like Perseus circumvented Medusa’s glare. Keep your head down. Don’t make a fuss. Stay relatively quiet and blend into the background as much as possible.

Being a back up dancer helped. All you had to do was make sure you kept in time with the other girls, make sure the spotlight was firmly pointed on the star. And far, far away from you.

It had all been working out quite well. That was, of course, until tonight.

Someone always brought Blue a nightcap (well, morningcap) in the early hours of Sunday. When the club had just closed for business.

And that someone was always one of the dancers. Crystal did it most often, or Peach. Sometimes Trixie, or Songbird, or Sweetie Pie. They were the stars. They were the ones Blue wanted to… provide him with a service.

So how it somehow fell upon you was madness.

Peach and Trixie were otherwise engaged. Songbird was ill. Madam Gorski couldn’t find where the hell Sweetie Pie had disappeared off to after close (something you now wished you had thought of). And Crystal… well, she wasn’t in Blue’s good books at the moment.

You were pretty sure that you had just had the unfortunate luck of being the first person Gorski had set eyes on.

You knocked on Blue’s office door, resisting the urge to use your shoe and actually going to the effort of balancing the tray in one hand. On the tray was a bottle of expensive whiskey and a glass with those fancy chilled stones in it instead of ice cubes. Though, why go to all this effort escaped you. You were almost certain that it was just for show, and besides Blue had a drinks cabinet in his office.

You crept in slowly when he called out for you to enter. Half-heartedly hoping that maybe you could sneak in, leave the tray and get the hell out of there before he’d even realised you’d stepped inside.

Blue sat at his desk, a small frown on his face as he scribbled in a ledger. Presumably checking the day's takings.

That little spark of hope grew a fraction as he continued to ignore you as you walked quietly to the side table by the sofa and set the tray down, just as you’d been instructed to. Maybe sometimes he just wanted a drink. Maybe because you weren’t one of the stars you’d get out of here scot-free.

You pause for half a second, nervously watching Blue as he keeps writing before you turn and take a step towards the door.

“Sit.”

Fuck.

You turn, swallowing down the anxiousness that threatens to close your throat.

He’s still writing, staring intently at his papers. But he gestures when you don’t move straight away, pointing to the sofa but not looking up. “There.”

You sit down quickly, perching on the edge as if the soft blue velvet would transform into teeth at any moment.

He keeps working, the clock in the corner ticking away the seconds. You try to breathe steadily, to match your racing heartbeat to the gentle tick, tick, tick. It doesn’t work.

Blue sighs, an unimpressed look on his face before he glances up, his dark eyes boring into you.

The expression disappears instantly. Replaced with a subtle bemusement. A small smile pulls at the corners of his plush lips and he tilts his head to the side ever so slightly.

You look away quickly. Choosing to stare ahead and focus on the ornate clock.

Blue carefully puts his pen down and closes the ledger, you can see his movements out of the corner of your eye. The precision he purposefully injects into his actions as he savours the tension.

“You’re new.” He says offhandedly, but it’s clear he expects a response.

You shake your head, “No, erm, a few months.” Closer to six than two, but who was counting.

“Really?” He raises an eyebrow at you as he leans his elbows on the desk.

You nod.

“Huh,” he pauses for an unnecessary long time. “Strange, I would have thought I would have recognised you.”

“I’m, I’m just a back up dancer.” You shake your head, shrugging a little as you tuck your hands under your legs to hide their shaking.

“Now, now,” he tuts playfully, “back up dancers are important. It takes a lot of skill to work in a team like that.” He smiles, the expression viper like and poised to strike.

You nod and stay quiet.

Blue gets up slowly, just walking around to lean on his desk and crossing his arms. “Still… odd that Gorski didn’t recommend a pretty thing like you to me.”

You swallow. The back ups were solely handed by Madam Gorski, while she jointly oversaw the main dancers with Blue.

“I, erm, I don’t have the coordination.” You mutter. It’s a lie. And a bad one at that.

“Hmm.” Blue nods, seeming to consider your words for a moment. “You do any private dances?”

Private dances. What a fucking joke.

“Not… currently.” You say carefully. You try your best not to look directly at him, keep your gaze on the clock or the floor.

He lets your answer hang in the air for a moment. “Why?”

Fuck. “Madam Gorski said I’m not ready yet.” Not a complete lie. Not the whole truth either.

“Virgin?”

Your line of sight snaps up to him in surprise and you shake your head.

He smiles again at you. “You sure?”

You frown at the tease, despite how hard you’re trying to not provoke him. “Yeah.”

His expression widens into a grin. “Could’ve fooled me with how skittish you’re being.” He moves slowly, coming to sit down next to you. He leans against the sofa, placing his arm over the back. You can feel his body heat radiating off him, even though there is a sliver of space between you.

You swallow and say nothing, staring at the floor. Perhaps this would be so much easier if he wasn’t so upsettingly beautiful.

He tuts again playfully and lightly touches your jaw, sitting up as he turns you to face him. “There, that’s better, isn’t it?” He looks you over with a quiet examination, like he was evaluating a painting.

“I think I’ll call you Bunny,” he tests the nickname on his tongue and nods. “Yeah, that suits you, my little skittish Bunny.”

You frown, not liking the gleam in his eyes at all. But resist the urge to pull your face away from his hold.

He strokes your cheek absentmindedly, apparently not noticing your glare. “You know what you’re here for right?” He says softly, “what’s expected of you when you’re in my office?”

You nod. And he smiles.

“Sometimes it’s just a quick use of your mouth,” he runs his thumb over your bottom lip. “If I’m feeling tired or… satisfied with how the day’s gone.”

He pauses, waiting to gauge your reaction. But you school your face into neutrality. Part of you expect his annoyance at this, but instead, that glow in his eyes brightens.

“Sometimes I bend them over my desk until they’re a screaming, crying mess.” He runs the tip of his tongue over his lip. “Crystal likes that best, you should hear the sounds she makes, how she begs.” Despite the teasing nature of his tone, the word ‘Crystal’ still comes out harshly, barely veiled anger simmering just below the surface.

You keep your face calm, force yourself to breathe slowly and steadily.

“What’s this?” Blue chuckles, “either my little Bunny is scared stiff, or she’s trying to be defiant?”

Nothing, you give him nothing.

He grins wickedly, almost giggling with glee. He shifts closer, his thigh brushing against yours. “Oh, defiance now is it? My little Bunny thinks she can be brave?” He teases, leaning closer still and lightly pinching at your jaw. “Silly thing,” he whispers, pressing his lips against your throat and you shiver.

“I’ll make you beg.” He bites your neck, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to pull a yelp from your tongue.

He chuckles and something in your soul just snaps.

You move instinctively, not even thinking your actions through as you turn. The movement looks like you are going for a kiss, but instead, you sink your teeth into his bottom lip.

He yelps in surprise, his eyes going wide for a second. He flinches back, but is cut short by your hand around his throat.

There’s a bead of red on his lip when you pull back, bubbling up from the very centre until his tongue darts out and Blue groans, savering the iron spreading along his tastebuds.

You squeeze his neck ever so slightly, just boarding on the side of discomfort and Blue moans again. His eyes roll back for just a second before he quickly closes them. His breathing stutters and he gasps, mouth agape as he presses closer to you.

You swallow, your self-preservation seemingly coming back to you in an instant.

That move had been stupid, so, so stupid. But here Blue was… seemingly enjoying it? Submitting to you?

All the stories and warnings you’d heard, none of them ever mentioned Blue being anything but a sadist, a control freak who needed to have power over others.

He whines again when you squeeze a little tighter. His hand has dropped from your face to your forearm, stroking your skin softly with his thumb.

His eyes flutter open, hazy and desperate as he looks at you from under his lashes.

You can’t help but think he looks better like this. Sweeter.

Perhaps it’s panic, or just the need to not give up that fragment of power you have found, but you lean forward again, keeping your grip on his neck tight and kiss him.

His whimper is musical as your lips touch his, as your tongue pilages his mouth and forces his surrender. He starts to kiss back a little forcefully, pushing his chest into yours and you squeeze his neck hard as you bite down on his lip once more.

He yelps, eyes flying open as you pull back, his blood on your mouth.

You keep your hold on him tight, nearly suffocating and he doesn’t fight back, doesn’t resist just gasps and mutters a hushed, “sorry.”

The sincerity of it is puzzling. But it still sends a flush of heat to your stomach.

He’s breathing hard, looking at you with large doe eyes. A dusting of pink to his cheeks. He tries to keep still, practically shaking as you look him over, appraising him like cattle bound for the slaughter.

His cock presses painfully hard against his trousers. Your eyes linger on it for a moment, how it twitches under your gaze, how Blue’s breathing increases and his heartbeat flutters under your fingers.

Oh, this is such a bad idea. But you can’t stop yourself.

With your free left hand, you undo the first three buttons of his shirt and pull his tie just enough that it’s hanging loose and out of your way. Then you push him back by his neck, forcing his shoulder blades against the sofa.

He moves easily, following your command and letting out a little grunt of air as you squeeze a fraction tighter. He closes his eyes again as you kiss the nape of his neck and shoulder, just below where your fingers press. Moans loudly when your kisses turn into bites.

“I, ah, please!” His throat bobbs under you, his hips buck upwards uncontrollably, trying to chase a friction that isn’t there.

You growl, moving your mouth close to his ear, “shut the fuck up,” you bite a little harshly on his earlobe and can’t help the satisfaction that rages in you when he whines so prettily.

“S-sorry,” he breathes, eyes closed tightly, tears starting to build in the corners as the sensations start to bubble over and overwhelm his every thought.

He squirms under you as you continue to bite and suck at his neck, breaking and bruising the skin. You squeeze his neck tighter in warning every time he moves just a little too much.

Slowly, you inch your left hand down, the angle is a little awkward, but you manage it, and pop open his trouser button before unzipping his fly.

He whimpers again as the pressure on his cock eases, the sound turning into a high-pitched sigh as you take him in hand and pull him free of his underwear.

“Please, fuck, please, please,” he rocks his hips up, needing the warmth of your hand, needing you to touch him so, so badly.

But you let go the second he bucks and Blue sobs.

You squeeze his neck hard again and he shudders. “You’re such a little bitch, you know that? Can’t even fucking control yourself and I’ve barely done anything.” You hiss into his ear.

He moans. He knows he shouldn’t be enjoying this. Shouldn’t be rock hard and leaking and needing anything you’d give him. He should be taking. He should be in control. He should-

You squeeze the base of his cock and neck at the same time and all thoughts fly out of his head.

You let go of his dick and hold your hand up to his face. You slap him lightly when he keeps his eyes shut.

He whimpers in surprise.

“Spit.” You order.

For a second he stares at you in confusion, but panics the moment you frown and quickly spits into your palm.

“Again.”

He follows your command.

“Again.”

He swirls his tongue around his mouth, summoning as much salvia as he can in hopes of pleasing you.

You don’t praise him, but you don’t ask for more.

He whines as you take him roughly in your hand, pumping him hard and fast and not giving him a second to adjust to the sudden onslaught. His back arches, eyes fluttering closed for a second as he moans loudly, whimpering and biting at his bloody bottom lip.

Little breathless sighs of ‘please’, echo from his chest with every thrust.

You keep a firm hand on his neck as you work him over, hampering his movements and keeping him in place.

To your surprise, he doesn’t even try to fight your hold at all. Let’s you press him further into the back of the sofa as your hand glides over his velvet soft skin.

Heat starts to tighten in his stomach, twist in the base of his cock and he sobs out in pleasure. “Please, I, please kiss me,” he whines so desperately, so needily as if he would fall apart if you refused him.

You move forward, keeping up your pace and squeezing his neck tightly as you press your lips to his.

He whimpers into your mouth, tears leaking down his cheeks and smudging his makeup. He grabs hold of your cheek hastily, but softly, stroking your skin as if you were made of fragile china.

His hips buck as he chases his high, licking into your mouth and kissing you for all he’s worth.

He comes with a sharp cry, spilling himself over his shirt and your hand.

You pump him slowly, enjoying his little after shocks and spaced out expression before you stop and pull your lips away from his, move your hand from his neck.

Blue breaths deeply, his head foggy and mind swimming. His thoughts don’t quite make sense, don’t fall into order the way he’s used to. He can’t remember when he’s come so hard.

Nerves sneak back into your stomach, twisting your intestines. You swallow and wipe his cum from your fingers and hand onto his thigh before you stand quickly, breathing hard.

You leave the room quickly before he can string a coherent thought together and head back to your room.

You ignore the roaring heat in your stomach and the ache between your legs.

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Thank you for reading!

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