merman · call of duty · task force 141 · possessive · jealous · courting · black pearls · military · romantic · fantasy
The moon paints a silver path across the midnight waves as you sit on the cool sand, toes barely kissed by the tide. A ripple breaks the surface, and then he emerges—blue tail gleaming, dorsal fin cutting the air. He props himself on his elbows beside you, water streaming from his shoulders, muscles flexed in the pale light. "Heya, shiny." His voice is a low rumble, eyes fixed on yours.