The swells swarmed the Atlantic in a storm like no other. Forty feet or more surrounding both sides of the Jolly Roger, crewmen frantically battening down the hatches, while Captain Flip manned the wheel as it spun furiously in the mood of the thunder and lightning. 

“Hold the sheet!” his crewman barked at the others spinning the mainmast as not to have it be struck down by the bolts that Zeus had rained down on them. 

“Watch the starboard side!” another shouted into the void of sopping men, struggling to keep the course for their next destination. 

“Captain, we need to find a shoreline or…. We’ll never make it!” his trusty first mate, Ron screamed his direction as his bulging muscles turned the captain’s wheel to the direction he pleased. Noticing his hat had flown from the gusts of wind, Ron picked it up and handed it back to him once the course was turned back to his liking. 

“Prepare for the worst, mate,” Flip solemnly nodded out of breath from keeping the course. He knew it was nearly impossible that he and his crew would make it out of the cursed triangle alive. He swore to himself when setting sail not even days prior that nothing ill would befall them. Karma certainly had its way of biting him back just as bad, if not, worse. 

Ron nodded back to him, returning to his post to keep the ship on course for as long as the storm would let the loyal crew set sail. Flip gazed out at the catastrophe before him, nearly tearing up at the fact that he may never get what he was fighting so hard for. He watched in slow motion as his crew battled the unforgiving waves, crackling lightning illuminating their horrified faces, the thunder drowning out their screams for help. 

Just then, a humongous bolt cracked down from the heavens into the front of the sip, sending a voltage of electricity through the wood of the vessel, causing a complete catastrophe. Crewmen flew into the abyss, shards of wood lost at sea. The last memory Flip had was his listless body sinking into the oblivion.

__________

His hearing returning to the real world echoed a mysterious melodious tune. A humming both angelic and alien in nature, his eyes fluttered as he took in his surroundings. Running his hands through the warm sun-kissed sand, his naked back on the heavenly shores of paradise. 

Putting his hand up to block the sun, of course to no avail due to the looming figure blocking the light. Thinking the shadow was a figment of his imagination, he moved to rub his eyes, groaning and flexing his tired biceps in the process. 

“Fuck,” he grunted, feeling like he had been hit by the largest monsoon this side of the Seven Seas. 

“Where the fuck…” he stammered off taking in the environment around him, the crashing shores, the palm trees swaying in the breeze, the beating sunlight of late morning, and that figure becoming more clear in his line of sight. 

The flowing locks in the breeze, the sunkissed skin of a goddess, the perfect form laying against the coarse sand, surrounded by sounds of seagulls and crashing swells. He blinked a few times to take in the fact that you were perched in the spot he’d seen previous, and sat forward, his muscles bulging, slightly burned himself from laying passed out in the morning light. 

“Hh-hello?” he questioned your direction, bringing his large hands around his thankfully clothed legs. You glanced over his direction, your naked form sprawled out facing away from him, only to show your globed asscheeks in the sunlight. Your alluring eyes batting those perfect lashes, your lip pursing into a gorgeous pout. 

“Well good morning to you there, sailor,” you sang his direction, rubbing your delicate hands over your side. 

“W-what happened to me? How in the fuck did I get here?” he suddenly and blatantly questioned you, still turned towards the ebbing waves of the Atlantic. 

You chuckled, playing with the shell you’d found while waiting for him to wake up, “Well, I saved you.” 

His eyes perked up at the out of this world comment you’d shrugged off, “Excuse me?” 

“You heard me, sailor,” you smiled over your shoulder, still rolling the shell in your hands, “I. Saved. Your. Ass.” 

Flip sat there completely dumbfounded. This gorgeous creature, dove into the abyss during a storm, of which he’d never seen previously, and rescued him from imminent death, dragged his burly over two hundred pound body, and brought him to an unknown shore, where you could have left him to rot in the sun and die. He wasn’t convinced given the fact that he hadn’t seen you on the seas the night before.

“No. No, you didn’t,” he shrugged and laughed as if he’d finally snapped. 

Taking his sarcasm as a complete insult to your kindness, you whipped your ethereal figure around, bearing your bouncing nude breasts and plump pussy to his eyes. 

“Yes. I. Did,” you asserted in the most melodic tone, floating towards his hulking body on the sand. “What?” you pouted, “Does my lil’ buccaneer not want to grasp the fact that lil’ ol’ me came from the depths across your lifeless frame, and scooped you out of near-death to save your worthless lil’ life?”

“Wait…” he stopped, standing to full attention, rippling pectorals, toned arm muscles, and a stern face staring into your soul, “you came… from the depths?” he cocked an eyebrow. 

You saddled towards his six-foot three-figure, no doubt him staring at your bare chest as you near him, and tilted his chin to your eye level, “Yes, sailor boy, I saved you. Do I need to spell it out any more than I already have?” boring your eyes into his, no doubt taking in the intense amber fired color they emitted as they scanned your every crevice. 

“N-no. No ma’am,” he gulped inward, simply agreeing under your entrancement.

“Thank you,” he whispered out, his trance only causing more tension between the both of you. 

“You’re welcome,” you murmured inching closer to his pink, full lips, taking in the rum-soaked breath he emitted. 

His eyes closed, and he moved in for the kill. Your lips suctioning onto each other, holding them there for fear of one rejecting the other. His calloused hands moving in synchrony against your warm body, feeling every single dimple, and curve you had. The left resting on one globe behind you, and the other snaking into your beach kissed locks, pulling ever so slightly. Your hands shot to his girthy chest, rubbing and caressing his peaked nipples beneath your dainty fingers. He gasped as you pinched the sensitive skin, pulling away looking half-lidded at your glorious features. 

“Who the hell are you?” he rubbed his thumb over your cheek, massaging the back of your head, causing your eyes to roll back into your head. Pulling yourself close against his swollen lips, you whispered on his breath, “Your dream come true.”

He smiled ever so slightly, letting out the smallest of chuckles, and shoved you back into his waiting lips, this time in a searing kiss that had his hands traveling down to lift you off the ground by your thighs. He shoved his tongue down your waiting throat, creating a symphony of moans and suction as he turned you around to lay your needy body on the sand. 

He loomed over you, pressing his very noticeable bulge against your pelvis. Grinding on you, eliciting more groans from his chest. He broke the kiss only to trace his wet lips along the outline of your neck, trailing to your budding breasts. He took one in his mouth, sucking ever so gently, and massaged the other with his mammoth hand. The sounds escaping you, only spurring his motions on even more so. He did the same with the other until you were writhing in pleasure and the buds turned to stiffened peaks. 

“God, sailor, I need you,” you pleaded, nearly out of breath, “Please.”

He looked up from the trail of his kisses on your stomach and settled his smiling face over your entrance. 

“Oh, now you wanna play nice with me? You haven’t even told me your name gorgeous,” he teased licking a stripe along your moist slit. 

“Uhhhh, fuck sailor, I could say the same to you,” you sang in euphoric pleasure. 

“Ladies first,” his hot breath sending vibrations along your clit. 

“Y/N,” you stammered unable to fully speak. 

He started to suck a welt on one of your thighs, and after breaking the suction looked up and moved his face to other, never breaking eye contact with your stare, “absolutely mesmerizing, Y/N,” bearing back down on the flesh, sucking for all it was worth. 

Just as he was satisfied with the bruising, he whispered back to you, “name’s Captain Flip Zimmerman,” and dove nose-first into your waiting hole, eliciting a scream from your lips. 

He traced circles around your pulsing vagina, humming at the thought of how turned on he was making you. His nose grazing your stiffening clit, every time his tongue entered your pussy. You twitched at every pulse his face was giving you. 

“Good, God Captain,” you cried out, “I-I’m gonna c-c-cum!” 

He moved his perfect lips to your aching bud, enveloped them in a French kiss, and sent you into the wildest orgasm you’d ever encountered. Crying his name out over and over again as he sucked relentlessly on your arousal. 

“There’s my pretty girl,” he cooed as you moaned in complete euphoria, “sing to me my sweet siren.” 

He slurped up your sweet release into his desperate mouth smiling in pleasure as his beard tickled your overstimulated pussy.  You came down from the high, as his face connected back to yours. Your hands brushing through his ebony locks, tasting your spend on his saliva. 

“Captain,” you gasped in between his kisses, “I need your cock.” 

He looked up with eyes black as his hair and began to pull his pantaloons down, releasing his Kraken of a cock to your hungry eyes. 

“You like what you see, siren?” he noticed your gaping mouth at his large member. 

“My God, sailor, your so fucking big,” pulling your hand over your precious lips, “do you think it will fit in my tight lil’ pussy?” 

“It will,” he moved to gather the wetness from his tip as well as the spend from your weeping entrance, and moved the mixture up and down his shaft. 

“You’re gonna take your Captain’s cock whether you like it or not,” he beamed back up at you, pushing his sword into your hole in a punishing motion. The stretch causing you to cry out over the crashing waves on the beach. He stilled, watching you writhe in pleasure and pain, drinking in your perfect little moans as best he could.

“Captain, please move, my pussy is so tight, I need you to stretch me out,” you begged, tears rolling down your face. 

“You’ll be patient and keep me warm, siren, I like watching you bend to my every will.” 

He stilled for a few moments, watching the tears roll, your lips gape open, and your sweet cunt flutter around his large dick. He could cum right there, he thought, watching the shadows dance on your pretty face. After a few moments of admiration, he pulled ever so slightly out and pushed back in.  

Setting a grueling pace, he emitted the deepest groan his chest could muster upon hearing the slapping of his balls on your ass, the squelch from your wet pussy taking every inch of him. He watched your face twist and turn as he pushed in and out, his pupils only dilating more as he took you in. 

“Siren, get on your hands and knees, face in the sand, ass up,” He pulled out, watching your tears fall at the loss of contact. You did as you were told, bearing your sand clad ass to his feining stare. He smacked it and a gust of sand fell to the earth, the roughness causing an instant handprint to show on your bare skin. 

“Motherfucker!” you steamed into the beach. 

“Watch your mouth, siren,” he smacked another hand on the other cheek, “no one like’s a dirty lil’ whore mouth.” 

He shoved his dick back into your gaping hole, setting an even faster pace than previously. The moans you both emitted spurring the release even sooner than you’d thought. His hands white-knuckled the sides of your hips, pushing your body impossibly closer. His balls slapping your skin, emitting howls as he plundered your special spot. 

“Fuck, Flip,” you groaned, “I-I can’t hold on much longer, I’m gonna cum again!”

“I’m. Almost. There. Gorgeous,” he punctuated on every thrust, bringing his hand to rub his thumb along your puckered asshole. Without warning, he punctured the perfect little hole, sending you into another earth-shattering orgasm. 

“Jesus. Fucking, Christ,” he screamed as you milked his cock of his sweet, succulent, spend, “Captain is blowing his whole load!” 

He stuffed you full of his cum, thrusting a few more times just to be sure it stayed up in your heat. Both breathless, he leaned over you, sweat dripping from his brow, hands gripping around your stomach. He pulled out, turning you over, admiring your utterly fucked face. 

“You alright, gorgeous?” he laughed towards you. 

“Y-yes, sailor,” you relented, “I’m more than just alright.” 

You pulled his face towards yours, tasting his salty sweat in his mustache. He grabbed both cheeks and shoved his tongue back down your throat, causing you to melt into his brawny body. 

He pulled away, “where did you actually come from?”

You smiled, looking away bashfully, “you really don’t understand do you,” pulling away and getting up from the spot you’d both wrecked each other in. You walked towards the waves, letting the cool water caress your feet the further you stepped in. 

“Where the fuck are you going?” he questioned almost alarmed. 

You looked back towards him, the smile eroding from your face, “home,” you said clear as day. 

And with that, a waterball formed around your goddesslike figure, consuming you in a snowglobe of sorts. A bright light emitted from your middle and expanded all the way around the cocoon. Your form changed from legs to a gorgeous aquamarine fin, your skin melding to the attachment, and the globe took you further out to the ocean. 

Flip stood there, dumbfounded again. He blinked a few more times, not even realizing what he had just seen. 

“Did I…” he told himself, “W-what the fuck.” 

He sat back down on the beach, contemplating what had just occurred, trying to justify the possibility that this was just his imagination. 

“I need a fucking drink,” he concluded. 

He scoured the island in search of more answers, only to come upon another impossible find. 

His ship. 

Parked on the beach, like it hadn’t been through any kind of storm in the slightest. 

He noticed his crew as well, packing goods away like he hadn’t witnessed them sinking to Davey Jones’ Locker the night before. He blinked several times, thinking it was all a mirage, or that he may have been drunk to no avail. 

Ron noticed his Captain gawking at the ship, and flagged him over, “Hey there Cap! Where ya been?” 

“I-uh,” he had no words for what had happened. 

“Hey Cap? Let’s get you back in the boat,” Ron pat his back, leading him to his quarters on the hull.  

After making sure Flip was okay to be left alone, he went back to his duties. 

The Captain sat at his wooden desk, feet perched on the top, his hands running through his mustache, trying to piece together what had just occurred. 

The storm, the destruction, you, his ship turning up unscathed. 

You. Holy shit. You. 

A fucking mermaid. You were a creature of the ocean, who had happened upon him during his hour of need, scooped him up and saved his entire livelihood in the process. You were enchanting. A literal siren song. He played through the moans you made, the sarcasm you shot at him, your whole aura was absolutely mesmerizing. He’d never encountered anything as perfect as you. 

He wanted to find you again. To feel your soft skin on his beard, look into those piercing eyes, and hear his name on your lips. He had to find you. If it meant he didn’t have any other purpose than that on the ocean. 

As he made his mind up, he took all the texts he had on your kind to study the lore, hoping to find the answer he so desperately needed. Upon hours and hours of inspection, he stopped at the Holy Grail. Picking up the map slowly, he chuckled like he’d lost his mind. 

The City of Atlantis. 

That had to be home. You had to be there. 

“Fuck,” he groaned out, now knowing what he had to do. 

He set the course, watching his crew scramble to get the ship headed the correct way, smelling the salted sea air on his nostrils. He tipped his buccaneer hat and looked into his spyglass. 

“Here we fuckin’ go boys,” he muttered, gritting his teeth, anxious to see you in the flesh again.

__________

CAPTAIN BLOWHOLE IS OUT TO FIND HIS LADY LOVE!

THANK YOU FOR YOUR THIRSTY ASKS PLZ SEND MORE I LOVE YOUR SICK MIND. 

🖤,

(Y/N’s POV, the day you saved Flip) 

You startled awake, gasping as a flurry of bubbles left your lips, a nightmare that had stirred you awake from your restless sleep. 

You rubbed your tired eyes, stretching your muscles and tail from the king-sized clamshell bed in your extravagant palace of opalescent towers, gazing out at the majesty of the underwater mecca you’d called home. 

The bustling of merfolk swimming in all directions, schools of fish making their ways in and out of the caverns, and the heart of the city blossoming with light as the shining palace glistened in the light of the morning. 

It was truly a paradise in the depths of a trackless sea, an epicenter of life only visible to those seeking it out the most. And in this hustle and bustle, you felt lost. 

The longing to be free from the chains you’d been given since birth only growing as your age advanced. Being the daughter of the king of the ocean had its perks, including the charmed life you’d grown to know and love. Showered with affection and attention by all who had come to know you, attending galas and balls weekly, being taught the highest educational studies the merpeople could offer, and the access to the most precious possessions in the ocean, to which any man or woman would kill to have. 

But the worst part of all of this was your indifference to it. Yes, as a child the affection and material prizes were all the rage, but as you got smarter, grew into the stunning beauty you were, so was the pressure to uphold the family traditions. 

Those included taking your rightful place on the thrown, with the strongest merman as your king to lead the people in keeping the peace between land and sea, just as your father had done and his father before him. 

This had been cemented into your studies from your preschool years and on, the consequences racking up as your age did, and the pressure to find a suitor as well, which nauseated you to no end. 

One evening at dinner, you’d not been in the mood for foolish tricks, settling to quietly consume your seafood as your parents droned on and on about foreign relations with the land folk and treaties of such nature that you’d tuned out. 

“My darling,” your mother prompted as you were pulled from your distant state, “you haven’t even touched your food. What’s going on sweetheart?” gazing as you shrugged, rolling the shrimp on your fork and pushing your palm into your cheek. 

“It’s nothing mother,” sighing as you took a sip from your chalice, avoiding all eye contact with both parents while the room grew more silent. 

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong with her,” your father booming out, stuffing his face with the delicacies like the titan he was, “she’s neglecting her duties!” smacking his lips together and boring his eyes into yours. 

“I am not!” slamming your fork down to lift yourself from your chair, “you don’t even know what it’s like to be me!” tears welling in your eyes as he lifted his hulking body to meet your eye-level. 

“Do not raise your voice at me, Y/N!” he commanded, a swirl of water whirl pooling as he grew angrier and angrier, “you will comply with my choices and you will marry one of our chosen suitors by the end of the full moon celebrations!” forcing an imaginary hold on you to stay in your seat. 

“It’s time you stop fucking around, Y/N!” he bellowed, your emotional state the furthest from his mind as he stuffed tradition down your throat, “you’re not getting any younger!” cementing his point to cause you to wail out in a pained cry. 

“Let me go, father!” squirming in his magical grip as you struggled to release your body from all of the stresses of being in the family, “I don’t want to be someone’s possession! I want to be in love!” screaming with pained tears as you writhed free from him. 

“Love!” he chuckled, the word a foreign thing to him as he married your mother for the sake of treaty, “my sweet stupid siren, you know nothing of love because it doesn’t exist!” his laughs ringing through the dining hall as you sobbed into your hands, your mother trying to comfort you as you were given the harsh reality of the rest of your days in the palace. Her silent tears falling under the mixture of your hurt as well as her own sad significance to her husband.

“Y-you’re w-wrong!” you stifled, heavy cries releasing from your lungs as you grasped for something to parch your aching thirst, wiping the heavy tears that dissipated into the saltwater. 

“Y-you’re s-so w-wrong f-father!” speeding your tail out of the great hall, the echo of his angered voice radiating through the hall as you burst out of the castle, swimming at the fastest speeds you could. 

Your tears clouding your directions as you rocketed through the masses of folk passing through the town square, fish hurrying their way out of yours as you cried through your pain. 

“I-I’ve got to g-get out of h-here!” you hiccuped as the lights faded from your view, the darkness of the ocean enveloping you in a mysterious veil as you tried to curb your sobs. 

You stilled your breath, stopping in the abyss to gather your surroundings, knowing you were far enough from home for your father to pull you back with his vortex with the flick of his wrist. Scoffing in sobs and flipping the bird in the direction as a thunderous roll hummed through the ocean. 

The light from above striking the surface in a lightning cloud as thunder boomed from the skies, your eyes gazing at the majesty from below as you solitarily floated in the swells, watching the huge waves ebb over each other in a frenzy. 

Suddenly, a huge object grew over the surface, the oval shape of it covering the crackling sky above, pulling you towards it like a beacon. 

Your tail moving unconsciously as you neared the large wooden hull, noticing its undoubtedly characteristic figures from the books you’d nosed through in your study. 

“Holy sh-,” barely getting the words out as a crack of light shot through the bottom of the ship, sending debris into the seas as the wooden vessel disintegrated before you. 

Bodies strewn amongst barrels of alcohol, cannonballs, and masts fell to the depths of the ocean, maneuvering the wreckage as you surveyed the devastation. 

Amongst the chaos, floating in the ebbs of the depths, you noticed the most striking being you’d ever come across in your years. His ravened hair flowing in the ocean as his lifeless body rag-dolled in the currents, his chiseled features glimmering in the crackling lightning as you came closer to his hulking figure. 

Running your scaled hands over his nose, his facial hair, his plush lips as you finally came to grips with what you had to do. Taking his dead weight into your arms as you turbo your way from the shipwreck, the bubbles trailing your tail as you figured out your next move. 

The panic set in when you realized this man wasn’t like you, his pulse no doubt fading the longer he was under the ocean. 

You hastily tried to find a speck of sand, bobbing your head up and down out of the water as you clung to the surface, trying to give him the slightest bit of oxygen as the thunder rolled over the stormy seas. 

“Come the fuck on!” you cried out, looking left and right as you caught the glimpse of a palm tree wavering in the hurricane winds several miles away. 

You barreled yourself and your extra weight towards the shores, dragging his thick muscle onto the sand as the wind howled through the patch of trees settled in the middle of nowhere. 

Laying him out on his back, trying to shield him from the ebbs of the shores, and the debris flying through the air as you surrounded him with your slick tail. Holding his deadened face in your chest as you covered him from the turbulence above. 

“Dammit, dad!” grunting into his ravened hair, cursing the swells that had grown familiar to you when he’d been stirred the wrong way, “would you fucking calm down?!” yelling into the thundering greyness that only swirled into a bigger frenzy as you gave it life. 

“Fine!” you screamed out, the swells howling as the clapping continued over the vast sea, “I’ll do whatever you fucking want, just please, stop this tantrum!” tears streaming down your face as the words left your lips, sentencing you to a life of loveless encounters all for the good of the merpeople. 

Upon your claims, clouds cracked, the thunder dissipated, and the waves calmed as if there hadn’t been a tsunami wrecking the open ocean in the slightest. Seagulls squawked as they elevated into the clear blue sky, the smell of the sea penetrating your aching lungs. 

The sun crept through the whitening clouds, beaming its light on the tanned shores, your eyes squinting as the tears steamed off your cheeks in the searing fireball. Choking on air as you savored the last moments of your freedom, feeling the land beneath you and the spray of the seashore on your tear-stained face.

“T-thank you,” the bile straining from your throat as you gagged back the fake appreciation, looking back to your sailor, his skin glowing in the sunlight as you removed your tail from his body. 

He stirred underneath you, heaving his chest as he puked up seawater, gasping for air as he writhed on the sand. 

“H-holy f-fuck!” grunting out, trying to shield his eyes as you quickly shape-shifted to avoid more shocking revelations from your handsome stranger. 

His thick pectorals straining in his shirt as he coughed up more spit and water, trying to grip himself back to reality. 

His eyes straining upwards towards your silhouette, the frame of the sunlight sitting perfectly on your glistening face, your nude form covered in sand as it clung to the beads of water sporadically strewn on your legs and arms. 

“H-hello?” he strained out, taking in your features as you melted in his amber gaze below, his honeyed bellow rippling through your shocked body embracing you in a warmth hotter than the beating sun. 

Your breath left with the tropical winds as you watched him sit up towards you, his chiseled tanned features becoming more human as he gained more consciousness. You felt something you’d only read in storybooks, something you had hoped for, ever since you were a guppy.

You stared at him, watching his chest heave in and out, his rippling arms gathering himself to sit up, his grunted breaths penetrating the sea air over the waves crashing around him. 

“Well good morning to you too, sailor,” you sang out in the most enchanting melody possible, losing yourself in lust as the morning peaked over the palm trees. 

Figuring that you had sentenced yourself to a lifetime of duty to your people, what was the harm in getting at least one romantic fling before heading back to reality? 

And it devoured your body up and down, right in the sandy shores of the Atlantic. 

__________________

(Flip’s POV, in search of Y/N)

The heavy swells of the sea cast over the proud Jolly Roger, relentlessly plowing through the white water in the bright light of an Atlantic morn. The course had been set by the fearless buccaneer in his quest to find his elusive mermaid lover, his focus not wavering even when he laid to rest his eyes at night. 

He filled his head with folktales and legends of the lost city, hoping to find an Easter egg to lead him closer to his precious prize. Every port they landed on, he was nose deep in the libraries, swilling rum to curb his irritation at the exclusivity of information on these folk and where they hid their secrets.

“There has to be something,” he sat in the candlelight, puzzling as he rubbed his ravened mustache, maps and books strewn over his desk, combined with notes he’d added to help or hinder his progress. 

“For fuck’s sake there has to be!” slamming his fist down, throwing the texts on his wooded floor in a thud, rubbing his temples as he filled his cup with another helping of his precious hooch. Slamming a shot or two down with large gulps as he fed the demon brewing within, becoming more and more frustrated at his dwindling expertise. 

He had found treasures buried in the bellies of beasts for God’s sake, been to all corners of the ocean, even dared to look Davey Jones in his squid tentacles and spit on the ground he walked on. It couldn’t be that fucking hard to find his precious scaled dame, who captured his heart and wracked his brain every single day since the moment your sultry eyes met his. 

He got up from his seat, rubbing a hand through his silken waves as he sighed. Taking another swill of his poison to cleanse his dried throat, rubbing his eyes from the headache that had built up in his desperate attempts at finding a sign. 

“I just need to quit for the night,” heavily sighing at his failures, angrily going to remove his effects from his person, his tensed muscles aching as he rubbed the back of his neck in a strained groan. 

“Mmm, fuck,” he growled, stripped down to his skivvies as his half hardened cock waved in the motions of the ebbs and flows of the ship, the pained movements egging the erection to grow harder and harder coupled with his thoughts of you. 

He laid in his chambers, the warm light caressing his freckled skin, showcasing his muscular form as he propped himself to stifle his need for your soft pussy. 

The more he laid staring at the ceiling, the more he conjured up thoughts of you. How perfect your hair glimmered in the warm sunlight, your enchanting eyes swirling in his mind, boring into him as if you had actually been in the room. Your glistening skin that gave off an opalescent hue in the light of the beach that morning, your perfectly pouted lips, begging to be covered in his as you coaxed him to you. 

He laid uncomfortably now, eyes furrowing as he gripped his mast in his thick digits, slipping his wet tip in them to slide the moisture down his veiny shaft, “Y/N,” he whimpered, his mind racing with more images of you that morning, “Y/N please,” begging as he sped up his motions on his throbbing cock. 

Your perfectly plump tits, shimmering on the sand, grit covering parts of your coconut-scented skin, the curve of your ass showcasing your siren charms as you coaxed his mind into his own pleasured memories. 

‘What are you gonna do to me sailor?’ a melodic and enchanting voice ringing through his psyche as he palmed his girth in his hand, his balls tensing as he thought of you and your wiles. 

“Oh fuck darlin’,” he sped up his assault, “I-I’m gonna storm your shores so f-fuckin’ hard,” he groaned, feeling his orgasm build and build on his fantasy of you sand-covered, begging for his cock, “y-you’ll be cummin’ in w-waves on m-my, f-fuck!” he cried out feeling the heat spread over his lower half. 

His motions speeding and squeezing on his Kraken even harder as he finished his thoughts, ‘come on captain,’ you purred, covering your body in more and more sand as it stuck to your glistening curves, ‘blow your load all over me,’ your lips whispering to him as your eyelashes batted in his direction. 

“O-oh f-fuck!” he shouted, his release clouding the image of you as he snapped back to reality. Hot cum spurting in waves as he dumped his wasted spend on his chiseled abs, balls tightening as it cascaded down over his knuckles. 

“M-mother f-fuck,” groaning as he threw his head back into his pillow, feeling the wetness cover his hand as he finished his ministrations, recoiling after it began to feel like too much on his softening cock. 

 He glanced down at the mess, huffing and puffing at the wasted release, shuttering as he saw the amount that had come out of him. He wished it was six feet deep in your velvet cunt. Wished it was dispersing itself in your vacant womb, seeding itself so deep that he’d marked you his forever. 

He shook his head, the ache returning in his temples as he laid there. Completely spent from his quest, wishing you were laying on his chest, smelling your tropical scent on his nostrils. Feeling the kinks and curls of your freshly fucked hair, hearing your sweet breaths escape your lips as he’d try to kiss on them before lulling you to sleep in his chambers. He only wished. 

Suddenly, a series of hasted knocks threw him out of his daydreams, the sound of Ron begging him to open up. 

“Captain! Captain!” he cried, seemingly in distress, as Flip hurried to make himself decent, throwing on his pantaloons and white undershirt, grunting as the knocks came quicker and quicker. 

“Hold the fuck on!” he bellowed, slamming his boots on the wooded floor to kick the books he’d previously thrown from his desk, ready to strangle his mate for disturbing him so late. 

Throwing open the heavy door “what the hell is going on, Ron?” his clearly irritated demeanor causing his buddy to jump back, shying away as his intentions seemed to be overzealous in their action. 

Flip lifted to his full height, crossing his arms to practically cover the doorway, the smallest slivers of light from his room emitting in a halo around his head, huffing his chest to hear what the commotion was about. 

“Uhmmm, Z,” he timidly questioned, not making eye contact with his captain as he knew the second he’d panic knocked, he’d signed a death warrant on himself, “I-I think you need to see this,” leading to the doorway that pulled them on the main deck of the massive ship. 

“See what, Ron?” gritting out as he lumbered behind him, a mixture of puzzled and pissed as he helped him jiggle the latches on the double doors. 

The cool sea air penetrated their faces, the sounds of the waves crashing the hull as it pushed its way in the set course, the night sky spotted with bright stars and a moon that illuminated the entire ocean as his night crew was busy with their chores, raising and lowering the sheets to readjust the direction from the winds. 

Ron led him to the captain’s wheel, being manned by a crewman who had taken Ron’s station for him to alert Flip to the sight. The man scurried away when he saw them approach, Ron gripping the wheel to keep the ship in the right direction as his other hand gripped the telescope laying by the maps given to him. 

“Here,” he gestured, placing the tool in his captain’s hand as he lifted to extend it out to look through, “about two paces to the right from where the ship is headed,” he pointed, to which Flip did as his mate had told him. 

Zeroing in on the spot he’d mentioned, eyes squinting as he took in the scene from the spyglass, “what the fu-?” he adjusted the fine vision on the lens to reveal something he’d never seen before in his life. 

A bright beam of lights, emitting from the horizon, colored in blue and green hues as it danced on the trackless shoreline they were headed. The streams seemed to pulse with life as they danced on the waves, the stars beaming through as the light show continued on and on. 

“What do you think it is?” Ron’s voice, stern but concerned as Flip closed the glass to glance over at him. 

He huffed, stalking over to the maps on the other side, looking at them to see what the answer could possibly be, caressing his goatee as he forked through the latitudes and longitudes. 

Dragging his large index finger over the directions he’d mapped out, looking at landmarks, squinting as the light of the night didn’t help his vision. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the possible answer, shimmering in the light of the moon like a beacon, calling to him like your siren song had rung through his ears that day. 

“This,” he slammed a sausage down, a devilish smirk painting his face as he glazed over the name labeled on the parchment. 

Ron glanced down to notice the name inked on the spot, looking in his direction, noticing his demeanor changed in an instant as he marveled at the map. 

“The Bottom,” he chanted, as he gripped the ship’s wheel, watching Flip snap into action, a frenzy of map tracking and smiles at his traction gained on finding his prize. 

“The Bottom, Ron,” he chuckled, the both of them looking up as the lights grew larger in the sky, seemingly large fingers coaxing the Roger towards it in an enchanting procession. 

“You really think it’s there?” he steered puzzled now as the lights brought them closer and closer, Flip’s eyes beaming with the shadows of them as he was entranced by the thoughts of you in his arms again. 

“Only one way to find out, buddy,” he grinned, placing his buccaneer’s cap on his thick locks, reaching for the bottle that was kept on top of the map. 

Taking a large swig of sweet nectar to let out a huge gasp, rubbing the remainder from his mustache as he tossed the vice to his mate, who took a swig too, aiming the ship still as he gripped the glass. 

“We gotta go to the bottom of that barrel, Ron,” cocking an eyebrow as he prepared his crew for all that would be beyond the lights. 

_______________

WILL HE FIND YOU IN TIME BEFORE YOU’RE SHIPPED OFF TO MARRY ANOTHER UGLY FUCK? 

FIND OUT ON THE NEXT INSTALLMENT OF BLOWHOLE AND HIS SIREN LOVE!

🖤,

He knew he’d fucked up. Knew he shouldn’t have been so greedy with his booty, and his other booty, so to speak. Following the undead buccaneer crew to the depths of the Isla De Muerta, in search of gold and glory, and all for what? For you to be captured by the undead crew? Doomed to be touched by Barbosa himself? 

The thought of his skeleton fingers encapsulating your precious throat, nigh, his precious throat, made his stomach churn with anger and remorse. 

He stared into the abyss of the fog ridden ocean, squinting as the Black Pearl came into his view. A devilish grin falling over his face as he patted the large chest sitting by the captain’s wheel, the cursed treasure sitting at his waist as he conjured up negotiations for your freedom. 

He bit the skin on his nails, thinking of clever ways to bargain with the dead, who were long past their time to be able to touch you, to smell you, to do what they willed. The thoughts of how illy you were being kept rattled around in his head, making him seethe more and more as the black sails grew closer to his vision. The billowing blackness of the clouds surrounding the cursed ship, the holes in the sails, and the undeniable black flag that whistled in the bustling breeze. 

His first mate came to his side, patting his shoulder as he tensed from the touch, handing him a flask of rum as he spoke, “do ya think she’s okay?” he questioned, concerned for your welfare as his buddy bit at his stupidity. 

“I sure as fuck hope so,” he grunted, swilling a drink of liquid courage, “I’ll kill every motherfucker on there if she isn’t,” exhaling as the warmth coated his throat, wiping the drippage from his beard as he handed the bottle back to Ron. 

“She’s probably not too happy with ya right now, Z,” he commented, giggling as he took a swig again, placing a hand on the wheel to aim the ship starboard for the attack. 

Flip smirked, huffing a deep laugh as he contemplated the words, “you’re probably right on that account, buddy,” clapping his back as he glanced back down at the stone chest, “but I have ta make it right either damn way,” he growled, placing hands on his hips as he gazed towards Ron. 

“Plus,” he placed a hand over his mouth, chuckling at his own dirtiness, “I kinda like it when she’s mad... It... does things to me,” shuttering as he thought of your claws pawing his pristine back muscles, hearing your pained cries underneath him in a round of hate-fucking that was destined to ensue when you both were reunited. 

Just then, the anchor lowered, placing the Roger side by side with the Pearl as the canons were shuttered open from both camps. 

“Well, well, well,” a booming voice called out, “look who finally decided to show up, gentleman?” a chorus of laughter coming from the black shrouds on the enemy side. 

“We don’t want this to be a fight, Barbosa,” Flip shouted back, his voice looming over the waves and the wind as he noticed the captain come into view, “I brought a trade opportunity for you, in fact,” leaning on the case like a sleazy salesman. 

“A trade you say?” the dirty seaman rubbed his festering beard, yellowed eyes boring in Flip’s direction, “a trade for what, blowhole?!” bellows of heavy chuckles ringing out again at his insult, causing Flip to roll his eyes, wishing he was blowing his hole in your cunt instead of negotiating with the dead. 

“You know exactly what I want, Hector,” the shocking reveal of his first name sending the enemy captain in a furied frenzy, “show her to me you snake!” Flip growled over the tidal waves brewing around the vessels. 

Barbosa bored his jaundiced eyes towards Flip, the two of them not even stopping to blink as he watched him mull over the command, “show her, and I’ll give you the one thing you want most in this world,” he taunted again, the words stinging the old captain’s face as he heard every pronounced word. 

After a few moments, he indulged his curiosities, “bring the slut,” he chanted to his mate, who nodded and promptly went to fetch you. 

Flip grimaced at the slur, his fists balling at his sides as he tried to compose himself. ‘take some deep breaths buddy,’ he chanted in the recesses of his mind, ‘she’ll be back with you in no time, maybe,’ exhaling at the notion. 

The crewman produced your writhing form from the gallows below, your hair in complete chaos, stripped down to your skivvies as you gnashed at the whistles and howls from the enemy crew taking you in. 

“Get the fuck off of me you bastards!” screaming at the top of your lungs, your body freezing as the cool air hit your undergarments. 

“Now, now, lil’ lady,” Barbosa gripped you in his crusty hands, pushing you to be shown to your lover, “you need to play nice in this negotiation, pet,” running greasy fingers through your tattered hair, the feeling making your face contort in disgust as you shut your eyes. 

“I’m not a prize to be negotiated,” spitting on his buckled boots as you were slapped across the face by his first mate. 

“You will behave, whore!” he shouted, you hissing from the pain of the blow as your feral form looked over to finally lock eyes with your sailor. 

“Flip!” you yelled, “Flip you fucking jackass!” a combination of angry and relieved as you were forced to your knees on the deck of the ship. 

“As you were saying,” Barbosa continued, his crewman wrapping a gag around your mouth as you groaned and bit at him, “produce your trade, captain,” he taunted, curious what could be more important than a lowly whore. 

Flip snarled as he watched you be treated like an animal, the blood boiling in his veins as he backed to produce the chest, “Here, is my trade,” he pronounced, the stone top hitting the wooden deck in a thud. 

A hush grew over the crowd of scalawags, bugged eyes gazing at the Aztec gold as is shimmered in the sunlight. Flip’s cheeky grin appeared as he saw the captain squirm under his prize he’d thought he’d had over him, crossing his muscled arms over his chest as he waited for Barbosa to reply. 

“Name yer terms, Zimmerman,” he snarled quizzically towards the handsome sailor, placing an iron grip on the top of your head as you panted below him staring into the eyes of your lover. 

“You give me, Y/N,” he cocked his head, deep voice radiating your name like a siren song, the wetness forming in your britches as you angrily writhed again, wanting to choke the life out of every sailor on the Seven Seas including blowhole. 

“And?” the scheming captain pandered, gesturing for the rest of his demands. 

“And,” looking you dead in the eyes as he retorted back with sarcasm, “I’ll give you the answer to your problems, Hector,” smiling as he tipped his cap towards him, “I know you crave to... feel again,” the final nail in the negotiations pinned as he waited on baited breath, canons at the ready in case of a mutiny. 

“Well,” the captain contemplated again, ripping your face to meet his as his ratty finger stroked your pristine cheek “let’s get this goin’ then shall we lass?” chuckling as he lifted your weight to his eye level. 

Flip watched as he drug your body towards the end of the ship, eyeballing his crew as they readied for any kind of foul play. 

“You want her so badly, captain?” he mewled at him, “then go fetch your whore!” flipping your ass off the end of the ship to sink you in the depths of the black ocean, a series of screams echoing coupled with a splash as you fell. 

“Mother fucker!” Flip yelled out, ridding himself of his cap and jacket, to bound over the edge of his ship, a chorus of yells erupting on both sides as canons began to flare in an all out brawl. 

He penetrated the cold water, hair erupting around him as he sought out your figure flailing in the ocean, hands tied around your back as you struggled to meet the surface for oxygen. 

He stroked over to you, a frenzy of waves crashing overhead as he gripped your waist to pull you to the surface. A huge gasp leaving your lungs as you felt the cool breeze on your wet face. 

“I’ve got ya, darlin’,” he panted, pulling himself and you towards the Roger as gunfire clouded the ships, “I’ve got ya,” using his brute strength as you helplessly floated with him. 

He pulled you to the back of the ship, shoving you in a porthole before he climbed in as well, the thud of your body causing him to chuckle slightly as he remembered your restraints. 

As soon as he climbed in he was met with a slap on the face, the strength of it knocking him back to the wall of his ship. Your raging fists in front of your face as you’d escaped your ropes.

“You lying,” stumbling over him, fists balled up in a fury, “cheating,” gritting your teeth, “sleazy, son of a bitch, pirate asshole, motherfucker!” screaming as another hard punch landed on his prominent nose. 

“Jesus fuckin’,” he groaned, the blow causing his nose to bleed as he shook himself back to reality, your angry apparition clouding his vision. 

“I-I’m sorry darlin’,” putting his hands in retreat as you had hauled a piece of wood to beat him with, “I-I’m so fuckin’ sorry!” cowering slightly to prepare for an ass beating he so rightfully deserved. 

“You’re not fuckin’ sorry at all you asshole,” heavy sobs leaving your lungs as you watched him get up, the faint sounds of shotguns blaring amongst the waves, “If you were sorry you wouldn’t have left me to die on that goddamn island you cowardly shit!” heaves coming out from you as you fell to your knees, cowering in the reality that he was using you for his own trade deals. 

“I-I you’re right,” he stammered, watching as you wailed from the drama over the last few days of your capture, “I-I’m such a shit,” he agreed, trying to inch closer to comfort you, only to have you pummel his kneecaps in revolt. 

“Don’t,” you looked up, seeing red, “don’t you fucking touch me, Phil!” releasing a breath as you gathered your thoughts again. 

“In fact, why don’t you go save your precious crew while I stay down here and think about all the things I’m gonna do to you later you fucking dick!” shooing him away with cat scratches as he stumbled up towards the fighting. 

“I’ll be back, my sweet siren,” trying to signal his apology, his amber eyes boring into yours as he looked for any sign of forgiveness, “and you can do whatever you see fit to me,” bowing as he smirked, running his ass up to fight the good fight as you rolled your eyes, thinking of ideas to pummel his ass later on. 

I HOPE THIS WAS CHEEKY ENOUGH FOR YOU! BLOWHOLE IS NEAR AND DEAR TO MY HEART AND HE’S SUCH A DICK HE DESERVES A RIGHT BEATING FROM US FOR SURE! 😂

Is Captain SS Blowhole an exhibitionist? 

Well, he has to assert his dominance somehow, and these lowly deck rats need to know your his prize and his only. Of course, he would show off his lil’ treasure to the whole crew, making sure you’re dressed like an absolute queen (also a whore) parading you around like he’s found Davey Jones’ Locker itself.

And when one of the crewmen gets a lil’ fishy with you, grabbing your ass when it’s not welcome, he’ll punish them in the most fitting way he possibly can. Making you whimper on his cock feeds his soul. He loves it when you cry out his name like a pirate song, making your voice raise higher and higher as he gets into your nooks and crannies, exploring your shores like he hasn’t a million times before. Only this time, he has an audience to impress. Your bent over the top deck, the wheel at your side, skirt raised up over your ass. He marvels at your submissive behavior, “little whore,” slapping the skin as hard as he possibly can with the crew watching in wait, taking in your facial expressions. 

“You’re soaking wet,” running his finger along your slit, gathering the sweet nectar and sucking the spend off his digit, “you like being my little pet, huh?” 

Slapping your other cheek, leaving perfect handprints on the skin, “you like putting on a lil’ show for my whole crew don’t you skank?” smirking as he glanced over at the wide-eyed men, gazing as you moaned from his words.

“Fuckin’ answer me!” slapping your pussy as hard as he possibly could, making your cry out his name, “that’s fuckin’ right, Y/N! Tell them who you belong to!” 

He lines his cock with your entrance, pushing in as you wail his name into the wind once again. He grips your hips in earnest and bottoms out his main mast until it knocks on your cervix, “you’re so fuckin’ tight for me, slut. No matter how much I fuck this rancid pussy, it’s always chokin’ my kraken to death!” 

Pummeling your shores the best he possibly can, as the whole crew raise their collective masts at your whining and moaning on their captain’s cock. 

“You gonna be a good lil’ skank and cum on your captain’s cock?” he pants, shoving a finger into your engorged clit, “fuckin’ answer me, whore!” spitting on the back of your head as he rubs tight circles around the sensitive bud. 

“G-god yes! Flip yes!” you arch into his gyrations, your orgasm spilling out of you like the ghost of Blackbeard had escaped your body. 

“G-good girl!” he grunted, pumping into your soaking cunt a few more times before releasing his swimmers into your City of Atlantis. 

From then on, the crew didn’t budge when advancing on you, although they did pleasure themselves to the scene from time to time in the comfort of their bunks at night. 

How much of a badass is Captain Blowhole you say? 

I’ll set the fuckin’ scene...

We’re on the hunt for the heart of Davey Jones, because, control of the high seas like who doesn’t want that shit? 

Anyways, the ship gets sideswiped by the British Royal Navy, taking us captive so they can get Flip to talk about what he knows about the treasure. 

“Where’s Y/N?” he snarls, forced to sit in a chair in the commander’s office, plotting his escape plan as the wigged asshole questions his motives. 

“She’s safe,” he sneers, “now tell us what you know about the heart.” 

Flip sits up, looking out the window into the abyss, “I ain’t tellin’ you shit,” he spits in the direction of the commander's feet, to which the bastard slaps him over his chiseled face. 

“You ought to have better manners than that, Captain,” he taunts, rubbing his knuckles adorned with brass, “I don’t want to have to kill you.” 

“Try me, asshole,” Flip spits again, this time mixed with blood. 

The splatter lands on the crisp white uniform, and his cheek, to which he wipes the remainder off on Flip’s coat, “oh what a pity,” he stares down, preparing to lunge back on Flip again, “I really thought we could get along Mr. Zimmerman,” landing a blood-curdling punch on his right cheek, no doubt dislocating his jaw in the process, more blood oozing out as his head hung lazily from the blow. 

“Are you going to cooperate now, Captain?” he lifts his head to meet his gaze. 

Just then, the restrained Flip breaks from the ropes, dagger in hand, pushing the commander's tiny figure onto the edge of his desk, “I don't know, commander,” he whispered menacingly, “am I going to cooperate?” plunging the dagger into his chest, watching his eyes dilate from the shock of the metal piercing his rapidly beating heart. 

Flip stood there, watching as the leader crumbled in death, only pulling the knife when he knew he’d passed to make his way out of the quarters. His mission... find you and take you back to his ship. 

As he exited, he was met by a group of British soldiers, pointing their weapons at him. 

“Ya wanna dance, ladies?” he smirked holding his blood-soaked dagger with one hand and removing his gun from his back with the other. 

“Let’s fuckin’ dance!” he advanced on the group, a clash of swords and gun powder clouding the brawl. Flip slashing through them all as if they were butter, leaving no man untainted by his rage. The sounds of skull-cracking and blood gushing from the hallways as he trudged his way through the wall of enemies. 

He emerged from the wreckage once the last man had fallen at his feet, soaked in blood, pocketing his gun and gripping his knife in case of other intruders. 

He made his way down to the dungeon, hearing your cries for him in the cell they’d locked you in. 

“Flip!” you screamed as he came into focus, “Oh my god! You’re alive!” crying as you grasped his face as he put his hand through tp bars to meet yours as well. 

“Oh, my sweet siren!” he cried, petting your cheeks, “let’s go back to the Roger,” looking around for something to break the lock. 

As he turned to look for a device, another soldier came bounding from the shadows, sword in hand as he sliced into Flip’s shoulder. 

“Motherfuck!” he cried out, hauling his dagger into the man’s side, making him bleed out on the prison floor. 

“Holy shit, sailor!” you cried reaching for your captain, “are you okay?” 

“I’m fine, sugar,” he smiled, reaching for the key and unlocking the door to grip you in his strong arms, “let’s get the fuck out of here!” 

------------ 

(later on the Jolly Roger) 

“Fuck, Y/N!” he winced as you tended to his many scratches and wounds on his shoulders and face. 

“You need to sit still, sailor,” you gave him the stink eye as he shied away from you for the millionth time since you’d begun, “them getting infected won’t do you much good.” 

“I know, I know,’ he conceded, trying to take all the aftercare he could with the best attitude. 

“Besides,” you smirked, placing a wrapping around the biggest wound on his deltoid, “how’s my captain gonna bed me well if he’s all cut up and bleeding?” 

He smirked, bringing his hand to meet your cheek as it glowed in the candlelight, “oh my lil’ siren, this captain is never tired or bloodied enough for you,” bringing your face into a searing kiss in the closeness of your shared quarters. 

------ 

WHAT THE FUCK JUST EVEN HAPPENED.... I NEED A CIGARETTE NOW. 🚬🚬🚬

🖤,