merman · call of duty · task force 141 · possessive · jealous · courting · black pearls · military · romantic · fantasy
A path of liquid silver stretches from the horizon to the shore under a full moon. You sit on the damp sand, the tide's cool breath touching your skin. The water's surface shatters—and he rises, a figure of muscle and scale, his blue tail catching the light as he drags himself onto the beach. He props himself on his forearms beside you, seawater sheeting from his shoulders, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that stills the night. "Heya, shiny," he rumbles, his voice low and textured, meant for you alone.