Humans are Feral: Part 3

This is actually a continuation of the first part, but in a different scenario. I wanted to write a story with the idea of a human pack-bonding to an alien and going feral after seeing the alien hurt. It would a be a moment where aliens realize that while humans are dangerous, this kind of loyalty they can have for anyone or thing is a rarity and should be respected.

I also wanted to play around with the ideas of aliens reacting to human courtship. I’ve seen lots of headcannons and ideas as to how aliens may react to our openness when it comes to romantic relationships. Aka alien/monster fuckers. I hate you all because I am one of you.

So I decided to mix both and go with the scenario: what if a human’s alien S/O was threatened and hurt? I love the cliche of people going rabid after a loved one is hurt, it’s so nice to see humans actually caring for each other in this day and age.

WARNINGS - Implications of sexual trafficking, death, and violence.

Inter-species relationships were not an uncommon thing. However, they were met with equal skepticism and hate as they were welcome.

When humans joined the mix of races in the outer systems, it threw off those with prejudices against such relationships. While the young race was not without it it’s own trivial prejudices, the openness at which they had to forming lifepairs with non-human beings was unexpected. As humans branched out and their strange reputation became more than simple youngling stories, another reputation began to rise. That was of humans as life-mates.

While many still spurned others for finding partners outside their races, among the community it was seen as a huge honor to have a human as a life-mate. They were deemed high-maintenance and challenging to match, yet their loyalty held no bounds.

It wasn’t long before this became a small joke among the humans. They knew their species, and the idea the outer races had of them as lovers was too good not to joke about.

While they could not quell the rising rumors and fantastical stories surrounding their species, as much as it annoyed some, others took it in stride.

Quil’ian was a xicali of the dexi-10 planetary system, from the jungle planet Huvarrh. Stunningly large beasts, xicalis resembled bipedal humanoids with two pairs of arms and four fingered hands. Smooth, iridescent skin emblazoned with unique patterns covered their bodies. In dark spaces they often glowed with their own soft bioluminescence. Two large eyes of various dappled shades sat on either side of their flat noses. Scientists theorized that humans and xicalis must have had a similar evolutionary path from an ancestor of ape-like characteristics. But where humans remained in the ground, xicalis remained in the trees, their strong arms capable of immense strength for swinging from branch to branch.

Quil’ian was such a xicali. His skin shimmered a cerulean blue so deep it rivaled the gemstones of Farcauv. His eyes were pools of amber, one his partner said reminded them of a sweet syrup called honey from their home.

Quil’ian’s life partner was a human named Amira. She was a well-respected starship engineer from the eastern reaches of the Terran homeworld. Black hair, sun-darkened skin and eyes the color of rich garden soil. She had a laugh like the singing bird calls of his homeworld, and soft words of whispered sweetness that made his legs weak. She was the light of Quil’ian’s life.

When they were about in public and chose to display their affections, it more than often drew side glances. Scathing looks. Jealousy. Yearning. Disgust. They paid no mind.

They found work together, traveling to distant worlds and exploring the nether reaches of the universe. Amira would be hired on as an engineer for a ship, while Quil’ian would work as a docker, using his natural xicali strength to move shipments and ship parts. They made quite the pair for any employer.

It was on such a job, on the freelancer starship Queen Diogovay, they found themselves in a dangerous situation. Alien Marauders had attacked, demanding all shipment and valuable items. And the captain was going to let them have it. They weren't going to risk violence and an injured crew. Until the marauders realized there were humans aboard.

Ever since humans had entered the galactum, the trafficking industry boomed. The want for humans for servitude, experimentation, and especially sexual uses made humans beyond valuable. One pretty Terran could make over several billion kronor.

Upon the Queen Diogovay there were five human crew members, including Amira. And the marauders wanted every one of them. When the pirates first grabbed hold of the ship, three of the humans disappeared while Amira and Sam stayed with the crew to try to keep the trespassers at bay.

This proved to be of no use, as the bastards pushed their way past the barriers and blood was spilled without hesitation. Quil’ian made a split second decision and grabbed both Amira and Sam, throwing the pilot over his shoulders and his mate safely in his secondary arms. Then they were booking it down the hallway.

Quil’ian had it in his head to reach one of the evac pods before the pirates caught up to them. The Captain had been against using them to try to keep the ship and goods from the marauders, but they were most likely dead now, the orders void. And Quil’ian had decided from the start his mate was his first priority.

He was several turns from the pods when a kalik hound rounded the corner and slammed into them full force. A creature commonly used for violence, it opened its massive jaws and jumped at the xicali. Pain tore its way up Quil’ian’s leg, and he couldn’t think past the feeling of the hound’s fangs tearing his calf apart and Amira screeching like a jakvy bird. Then the feeling of the hound’s fangs disappeared as soon as they sunk in.

Quil’ian opened his eyes to see Amira atop the hound, arms wrapped around its throat as she attempted to choke it into submission. Sam had a metal pipe in their hands and was slamming into the hound’s face. The two were snarling and screaming right back at the alien dog, enough fury in their eyes to rival the violent creature. And Quil’ian watched as his mate tipped her head back and sunk her own teeth into the soft flesh of the beast’s neck.

It screamed, and Sam shoved the metal pipe down its throat, flesh tearing as the pole exited through the underside of its jugular. It fell to the ground thrashing, but the two humans doubled down in their efforts until the beast stilled. Quil’ian had never witnessed a hound fall so easily, the beasts known for their dexterity.

Then Amira was by his side, her mouth covered in the hound’s orange blood. Her hands made quick work of the sweatshirt she was wearing, tearing it into a single strip to wrap around the massacre that was the xicali’s leg. Her hands were gentle, a drastic change from the viciousness he just witnessed. The xicali stared at her for a moment, then concluded he would have been just as violent had the beast wrapped its jaws around her. If anything, a shiver went up his spine, one that was not unpleasant, at the realization that his human mate was willing to go to such drastic measures to protect him.

When the binding was done, Amira and Sam did their best to haul Quil’ian to his feet, the xicali towering above them. They made their way to the evac pods, spurred on by the distant yells and screeches from the marauders. It was both surprising and not when they got there and found the three other humans preparing the pods. One of them, Kaeveon, immediately went to their aid, muttering about the captain being a “fucking fool” and how they should have jumped as soon as the pirates boarded.

But all went calm as they entered the pod. The pirates were apparently too busy searching the entire Queen Diogovay for the missing humans to consider that they were already gone. In moments they were out in deep space, heading to the nearest station they could take refuge at. Amira was tucked into Quil’ian’s side for the whole duration, the couple refusing to let the other go. They treated the xicali’s injury with the med kit in the pod. It was enough the keep the woman from fussing over him too much, though her mate admitted to himself that he was rather basking in her concerned care.

Perhaps, after this incident, Quil’ian would try to convince her to settle somewhere. Maybe back on his home planet, in a small home in the trees, with a view she would love.

I’m sorry this took forever to put out. Not my best work since I started it months ago and lost the motivation until now. My mental health hasn’t been the best these pst few months, but we’re on the up, and writing this has definitely put some inspiration back on the table. Hope y’all enjoy this smaller snippet. And I really like the possibilities with Quil’ian and Amira, so maybe I’ll have some more stories starring them.

Iruma-kun, the Six Fingers and Humanity

I have been mulling over this idea for days as I devoured the Iruma-kun anime then manga and am still struggling to articulate it. The best I can boil down to is the whole goal of the Six Fingers and the return to origins is, unbeknownst to them, a desire to become more human.

I can understand, in a way, their frustration. Demons used to be merciless killers, where the strong surpassed the weak and magic, aggression and power won the day. Now we see they have idol concerts and theme parks and silly games to help demons safely purge their “wickedness” which is, in reality just another part of their nature. The majority of modern day demons deny a large part of themselves. The whole idea of a wicked cycle is endlessly fascinating to me, like this species has compartmentalized themselves so much that their pent up darker impulses periodically spring out and require them to be handled gently or hidden away. I can see how this practice is insulting and incredibly restrictive of what a demon is.

Now, right from the start, Iruma has stood out in the demon world for a few reasons. First and most obviously, he lacks any practical or cultural knowledge of demonic society. We see Iruma ignorantly stride past social norms and boundaries he didn’t even know existed. If it weren’t for his upbeat, people pleasing attitude he’d be written off as a delinquent but instead he helps foster an environment of change in a bunch of slackers and misguided students. And change is a radical concept in a society that hasn’t replaced the demon king in centuries since the old one disappeared. The effect of Iruma’s very presence, his enthusiasm and attitude and cooperative abilities can be seen so strongly on the Misfit class that its no wonder he’s become such a stand out student.

So I had heard of Irumean when I first started the series and had high expectations of him being a full on bastard. And he simply wasn’t. He was arrogant, reckless, rude at the worst but even those around him commented that his innate, unnatural kindness was still there. I argue because Irumean was never a true wicked cycle. It was Ali-san’s attempt to induce a demonic ritual onto him. But humans aren’t like demons, Iruma is a good, kind, patient boy due to his trauma and strength of character. At any point he could lash out in the most horrific fashion and leave everyone stunned because he is not bound such such strict rules of personality and conduct. His humanity is as much a strength as it is a weakness.

So according to recent chapters, Iruma has traces of Delkira’s energy. My first thought was that it was emanating from Ali-san, which is a distinct possibility but why was the ring attracted to Iruma in the first place? My next theory is that Delkira had some connection to humans as well. Either he’s a hafling or a demonized human or spent a significant amount of time in the human world. Either way, this human perspective is what made him so powerful, such an irreplaceable leader that his throne has remained empty for so long. One could even argue that the energy that the Six Fingers identify as ‘Delkira’ is actually just ‘human’ since the King’s energy is familiar while a human’s is not.

My whole round about point I’m doing a very poor job of explaining essentially boils down to, demons want to return to their origins to have more control over their baser instincts. Instincts and free will that humans, such as Iruma, possess naturally. But while Iruma has the capability for great evil, unrestrained by a set cycle, he also has such an overflowing well of love in him. Delkira, what little we’ve seen of him comes across as brash, fickle and cruel. You may note those are human traits as well. But Iruma also leads with kindness, dedication and teamwork. He will make a marvelous King because the humanity he brings to the table will help all of demonkind.

I do believe as the manga progresses we will see Iruma’s humanity become a  game changer in the battle against the Six Fingers. How he sees the world (both human and demon), how he interacts and inspires others, how he fights. Reaching a point where not only does Iruma stand up for himself but he is forced to cause harm (and by consequence addressing his people pleasing trauma) and behave in a manner not seen by demons outside of their wicked cycle. When he does, years down the road, become King, I believe he will address the concerns of factions like the Six Fingers. Demons are not meant to be fully contained but cannot be allowed to run rampant. With his feet in both worlds, I believe he will be able to balance both opposing views and ‘heal’ the underworld as the prophecy states. Not just from the instability of the Six Fingers but from this bizarre evolutionary cycle demons have fallen into over the centuries.

Seeing people reacting to tsc and them getting shock over things I thought was obvious and I was getting annoyed until I realised maybe not everyone reread aftg like a million times and have read most of the analytical posts and yeah maybe I am the problem instead

As much as we’re all looking forward to Prapai finding out about Sky’s ex and going full protective boyfriend mode, I gotta say I’m just as excited to see Rain’s reaction.

My guy almost fought Stop one-v-one just for insulting Payu and didn’t even hesitate to kick the shit out of him after the kidnapping fiasco. He made Prapai swear he could trust him before handing over the keys to Sky’s apartment. If ya’ll don’t think Rain’s gonna find out what happened to his BFF and then hunt this man to the ends of the earth to curb stomp him into hell where he belongs, I dunno what to tell you.

Star Trek 8: The Enemy Within (en)

when the parts of his personality that give him a backbone are forcibly removed, kirk leans heavily on spock to help keep him upright as captain

(thank you for the feedback - the rest of the episode novelization's excerpts are under the read more so they can be read together)

and finally, quite possibly the weirdest part imo

i've found my first analog series that i'm very normal about i promise

angel hare has infected my brain it makes me go squish

i wanna draw fanart so bad [shakes my ipad]

Black is such a diverse character with so much flavour on his own, literally any pairing I see him in I'm like "👀 damn okay, I could be down for that."

Really, even shipping him with characters across other shows I'm still baffled to be thinking oh my god this works

Me and my stepsister-in-law spent last night trying to explain the plot/premise of warrior cats to my stepsister, 10/10 it was hilarious she thought we were both insane

You know what seriously doesn't get played with enough?

In the grand, shared, doll set of Danny Phantom?

The cultural alienation.

Is Danny up to date on Human Memes? Did he see that movie? Hear about that celebrity drama? He lives here, amongst us, WITH us. But? Feels... half out of the loop.

And? He can't SHARE his passions with us.

Is he REALLY gonna show his new lecture buddy that hot new Kryptonian Sci-fi series he picked up from the Zone's nearest mega market bookstore? Invite a neighbor over for some sparkling ectoplasm laced soda and a binge of this cool Alien animated film from a long dead planet's artist guild? They're trying new mediums, apparently! Danny thinks it's pretty cool, he hopes they make more.

Oh, but maybe he can talk about games!

Except he switched to the technologically far more advanced Z-Held, years ago. They have literally billions of billions of options, since every game maker in their region of the Zone designs for it. Has for millennia.

....music?

Ghost speak either creeps people out or actually hurts to hear, if they listen too long. And "normal" music... feels so FLAT. Emotionless. Yeah, he'll LISTEN... smile and agree it sound nice. But it's... it's so bland? Less then bland.

He can't even share his food! It's a one way trip to ER! If not the morgue. Half his spices are FROM the Zone now. And Zone plants? Heeeeeella poisonous to humans. Tasty af to HIM, but... yeah. No sharing.

So like... what does that LEAVE him? Dance? Hobbies? Sam n Tucker he can share his REAL interests with, but... they went to different colleges. And protecting people isn't a hobby. It's more of a Gotta, you know? He ALSO can't join any space related clubs because now he knows WAY too much about Space.

Like "above civilian clearance, no one on this planet should know that" a lot.

He gets distracted. Too excited. He KNOWS himself.

He would totally ramble on about Space.

He's a Fenton, man. It's genetic.

So... he's lonely. Adrift. A sad, sad, semi-feral noodle of a man. And you know who would never let that stand? Who also wants to know what THE FUCK he's listen too, because it's both giving him a headache and creeping him out? Kon.

This dude reminds him of Tim. Complete with the feral energy and fluffy hair. *snaps pick* lol, bro, is you. ANYWAY, this guy? Apparently the source of the Kent family splitting migraines. That sound has been KILLING them. They need to get this guy better headphones. Aliens gotta stick together, you know? Time to go make friends.

*floats over in his shades n leather jacket* Sup~!

no miraculous aged-up AU where Plagg is a shitty stray that Adrien fed at his balcony one too many times and just decided to stay. Marinette is in love with Adrien and was always so charmed about him telling her about the stray cat that he takes care of, but then she goes over and finally meets this absolute Menace of a Feral Cat that attacks and destroys and eats everything it touches and hates Every Human except Adrien. Marinette cries to Alya about how Adrien will never love her if she can't get his cat to approve of her. Cue Marinette agreeing to catsit for him and a series of unfortunate circumstances of Marinette screaming and chasing Plagg around the apartment while he Destroys Everything. Adrien comes back horrified to Marinette bloodied and mauled and scratched all over her body with a big proud smile on her face and Plagg purring in her lap. (it turns out cheese was the answer)

Humans Are Feral

Alright, this my first post, and possibly a part one in a series of humans are feral story arcs. As well as being something that I constantly think about and wonder why no one talks about it. Maybe I just haven’t found the specific post.

Have we ever talked about how vicious humans can be? Especially in scenarios where something we care about it threatened? And I mean “bared teeth and snarling” type vicious. Beast mode activated. I’m talking about how we basically turn into animals in certain situations and rely solely on primal instinct.

Take mothers/fathers for example. You ever see a parent react to a situation in which their child was dancing with death? They will risk life and limb for that kid. My dad dove into a pool full speed after my two year old sister fell in the deep end. Clothes and all. Have you ever seen a woman after just giving birth and her mind is just straight hormones? And something happens that she perceives a threat? Someone picks up the newborn without consent, she jumps out of bed after a fucking cesarian to snatch the kid and full on snarl at them? Friend’s aunt did that shit. And don’t get me started on the super strength thing humans can do when someone is in danger and adrenaline kicks in. Then there are the people who will protect some random ass kid. A toddler or small kid with no parent around and suddenly something dangerous is about to happen? People will jump in parent or not.

Imagine:

It was a quiet day in the streets of Kuratz. The market paths usually bustling with people of races only had a small stream of customers bouncing from stall to stall. Tourists or natives of all sorts. Ky’lio, a young Avalanghar, watched from his mia’s stall, long ears swiveling this way and that to pick up on what conversations he could understand.

Then they caught his eye. The strangers you’d never see in such a place. Humans. What looked like a family unit. Ky’lio couldn’t help but lean forward to stare. He recognized the tallest as a male and the slightly shorter one a female, as he had watched some interactions between his mia and her human customers. But those humans were always soldiers or neighboring colonists. These humans were different.

There was a third party. Ky’lio had never seen a human child except for the few pictures shared from other humans. It was notoriously well-known that humans were extremely protective of their younglings, so few were seen away from human colonies. So the small, bouncing creature Ky’lio watched tug on the adult humans’ paws didn’t register as a baby human until he really stared and saw the round features.

It kept trying to dart away from its parents, but the adults held vice-like grips onto the little one’s paws. Until the stopped at a stall, Hadi Midas’s stall selling sweet fruits from the Dolor Jungles. The male let the little human go and the female took hold of the little one’s free paw. But the wild thing tugged and cried out, like a prisoner chained to a wall. It wailed and cried out in its native tongue, no doubt begging for release from its mia’s iron laws. The scene reminded Ky’lio of when he saw Kaloway serpent at a traveling exotic zoo. It too thrashed and screeched in its chains the same way the little human was. Then the female leaned down and whispered something to the child, making it go limp in her paws, hanging like a dead thing. The female only snorted and turned back towards her mate, who was speaking with Hadi Midas.

What happened next would always remain burned into Ky’lio’s memory. The little human twisted strangely and suddenly they yanked themselves from their Mia’s grip. It screeched triumphantly and dashed away. The female yelled and ran after it, but it was no use. The little human was fast and determined. As it ran down the street it neared the alleyway next to the Damik stall. Ky’lio felt the fur along his spine stand up. The alleyway was a known ambush site for younglings separated from their parents. A human child would be a great prize.

As the human youngling ran past the alleyway, a giant Oyiadin stepped out and grabbed the skinny, hairless arm. The little human screamed, a sound that had every fear feeling surging through Ky’lio’s body. Others in the street turned and stared, but none dared do anything. Oyiadins had a reputation for smuggling and trafficking, their muscular stature, claws and jaws full of sharp fangs scared away any possible help. It wasn’t the first time Ky’lio witnessed a kidnapping and helplessly watched as the kidnapped youngling’s parents shrieked in despair and fear, never daring to fight such beasts. So they would lose their child.

But these were humans. And humans were known for strange, impossible feats. That fact still did not prepare the young Avalanghar to witness the female human slam into the giant Oyiadin, tackling the muscular biped to the ground. The male human swooped in and snatched the small human, now crying and clinging to its parent. The female stood atop the giant, snarling like a wild fangher. Her lips were pulled back to reveal small, white teeth that were nowhere near as intimidating as the Oyiadin’s, yet the expression was somehow more fearsome. She growled something in her native tongue, standing menacingly over the Oyiadin that hadn’t tried to stand up. It’s ugly face was strangely empty of menace, it’s six eyes wide and staring at the human it easily dwarfed. Yet the female held no fear, spitting and snarling, her body tensed for a fight. But the Oyiadin offered no challenge. She spat something in her language once more, then turned and walked to her mate and youngling.

“That is why you must not provoke humans.” Ky’lio jumped, turning to see his mia behind him and watching everything. She looked down at him. “They are dangerous and unpredictable. Especially when they’re protective.” She looked up to watch the trio of humans pass by. “Never underestimate their willingness to fight for their own.”

~~~~~~

Kids are one thing. Then there are pets. I have personally felt the willingness to kill if anyone threatened my dog or cat. That pack bonding stuff is no joke. No, I don’t care if you hear me call my cat a fat, no-rent-paying bastard, he’s my fat no-rent-paying bastard. And I won’t just die for him. I will kill you and cut you up in pieces and summon satan to dine with me on them for that fat bastard.

~~~~~~

Imagine:

Galar was a puvarra, and deserved xis comeuppance. But the crew never expected for their human crew mate to be the one to do it.

Oakley was a good crew mate and most of the team had high opinions of him. He did his work, turned in reports on time, socialized and was overall very kind. The crew was grateful that the human was one that presented the better side of his species. However some were not fond of humans. Galar, the Yunagi from the helix system 1-4b, was one of this opinion. Xe was unabashedly cruel to many on the crew, and only got away with it because xe often blackmailed xis victims to not report to the captain. It was irritating how xe knew certain things. But xe’d finally gone too far.

Oakley had a pet aboard the ship. The creature humans called a cat, a furry thing on four legs that was a master at contortion. While the crew had been hesitant about the creature at first, hearing stories about Terran animals, many grew to like it. Oakley’s cat was named Jambo, a black and white pattern on its fur and a long, skinny tail. It would rub against their legs or jump upon counters to watch them at work. Sometimes it would doze off near them. Only Oakley and Jabari, Oakley’s partner in work, had been selected as thrones for the creature to doze upon. Many on the crew came to feel honored when the creature would approach them and rub its cheek against an outstretched appendage, a sign Oakley had explained to be affection and a demand for “pets.” Jambo got many pets.

Then one day, as the crew drew together in the dining area for a meal, Galar chose his hill to die on. Jambo had approached the tables, padding towards Oakley, but stopping as some crew began making chirping and clicking sounds, trying to intice Jambo toward them for pets. Then Galar walked by, the blue finned Yunagi’s eyes landing on Jambo. And before any could do anything, xe pulled back a long leg and kicked the black and white cat. Jambo let out a loud screech.

Then Galar was flying back and Oakley was screaming in his native language. He wailed on Galar, his fist connecting every time. At one point he tried to choke xim. Several crew jumped upon them, pulling the human way from the Yunagi, but the damage was done. Purple bruises were already evident upon the Yunagi’s blue-green hide, scratches and crescent shaped marks on xis neck were leaking dark blue blood. Nothing serious, but enough to rattle everyone.

Oakley didn’t bother staying to explain to the captain. He immediately left to find his cat, as did some of the others. Many could care less if Galar was injured, because the stupid puvarra deserved it. They worried for Jambo. The cat was later found and inspected. Luckily for Jambo, he had some light bruising. Very lucky. Oakley even cried, the clear wetness on his face a strange sight for many.

When asked by the captain why he attacked Galar, Oakley point-blank said it was because he kicked Jambo. And anyone who dared hurt his cat was going to get hurt themselves. He said it so casually the captain blinked several times. While humans were known for their protectiveness of packmates, this aggression was unexpected. They went on to scold Oakley and told him that they would have to write this on his personal report for future jobs. Oakley only nodded, still unswayed. The captain sighed and dismissed him. They knew they probably should have done more for such heinous action. But unbeknownst to others, the captain was also fond of Jambo. They were the only other person Jambo chose to nap on.

~~~~~~

This was written really fast, so I apologize if the writing is a little scrunched and there are mistakes. It physically hurt to write about a cat getting kicked, I wanted to vomit. Ugh. I wanted to go off on a tangent about humans taking on giant beasts for their kids because wouldn’t we? I personally don’t like kids, but I admit that I’d fight a bear for that one-year old that smiled at me in a Walmart checkout line, then offered me her animal cracker. I mean, wtf. I’ll save that for the next post tho.

My Person

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: In which Sam's question forces Bucky to reveal his true feelings to his so called "friend", Y/N.

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Words: 3.2k++

Warnings: 18+ content, no minors allowed, nsfw, fluff, wee bit of angst, bucky is so adorable in this I WANT HIM SO BAD, also he is a bit feral. I feel like he can be more feral than this but you know, he doesn't wanna scare her away lol. This is just a result from surge of need so might not be too much of plot but I hope you enjoy your reading, anyway.

Inspiration: This post right here by @black-cat-2

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Sam took notice on every single crooks and corners as he followed Bucky's dragging footsteps from behind. It wasn't that he didn't want to help him but Bucky refused the offer right on the bat, saying that the serum will fix him up sooner or later.

The aftermath of their final battle with the flagsmasher was chaotic to say the least. With the splitting sides of public opinions of the new Captain America and the whispers about how the former winter soldier saved a bunch of civilian tonight had been the talk of the town.

But both Sam and Bucky decided not to think of it too much,  especially when both were exhausted from the fight. Not to mention Bucky was injured. Although Sam knew damn well that the soldier can managed himself to a hotel to rest for the night like he always does, but as a worried friend, or rather a babysitter some would say, he insisted to accompany Bucky all the way through.

And Bucky was not in the mood to argue; Sam is as equally stubborn as Steve used to be, so he let the man do whatever he wants.

It was clear Sam was suspicious of where the hell did this terminator brought him to, but mostly he was curious. He thought he would just accompany him to the nearest hotel but nope. After taking an Uber, the next thing he knew, Bucky was leading him into this apartment building, that was obviously not his.

"Last time I checked your apartment was in Brooklyn. When did you get a place here?" Sam asked as Bucky stopped at one of the identical looking doors.

"It's not mine" Bucky replied truthfully as he removed the glove from his fleshed hand and pressed his thumb at the top of the door handle.

Sam eyed him with a look on his face when he sassed at him, "Said the guy who is currently unlocking the doors with his fingerprint."

Bucky simply rolled his eyes before the chiming sound alerts that the door was unlocked. Bucky opened the door to let Sam inside before he himself got in after him. "Seriously, man. If I knew you can afford having two apartments I would've asked you to pay for tonight's dinner. That's the least you can do..." Sam's words died as his eyes scanned the apartment.

Whatever he was expecting the apartment to look like, it was far from it. He surely was not expecting the place to be fully decorated with complete set of furniture in every area of the room. Whether it is the living room area, or the huge kitchen that was also equipped with built-in oven.

Even with the lack of light, Sam could see the color pallette on the walls were definitely not what Bucky would go for. The sentimetal trinkets on the shelves, the sweet fragrant of the scented candles; everything was the very opposite of what Bucky's apartment in Brooklyn looks like, feels like.

This, it felt like home. Warm and inviting. Quiet and serene.

"You know what? I take that back. Whose house have you broke us into?" Sam asked, almost in awe rather than shocked, "I know for a fact that this ain't your house."

Bucky huffed a heavy breath as he remove his tactical gears, "I didn't say it was mine, remember? Or flying with the pigeons in the sky had made you forgot how to undertand human language?" there was an unfiltered sarcasm in his tone that didn't go unnoticed by Sam.

So obviously he got defensive and unknowingly increase his volume as he countered, "Woah woah, that was uncalled for. And for your information pigeons can't fly as fast a my wings, and rest assured that I--"

Bucky swiftly stomped towards him, eyes wide almost in anger, while his metal hand reached to cover Sam's mouth, "Can you shut the fuck up, she's probably asleep and your noisy ass will wake--"

"Bucky?" A tiny yet groggy voice interrupted the conversation causing both of them to turn their attention to the source. The figure peeped itself from the bedroom, her uncertainty made it that only half of her body was revealed through the doorway.

Her squinting eyes indicates how recent she was woken up from her sleep and Bucky flashed a quick glared at Sam for that. Sam simply shrug with his hands the air as a response. He was still confused who is this woman and why were they in her house.

Bucky's tight features softens as he called for her, "Hey, babydoll. What are you doing up?"

Recognizing that voice anywhere her feet made her way to him, "Heard some noises." She answered shortly as her knuckles find her eyes and rubbed it lightly. The closer she gets, the clearer Bucky can see the dark circles under her eyes, signifying how much she was lacking of sleep.

His heart squeeze a little at the sight, "M'sorry, sweetheart." it was as if their bodies were magnets that they naturally found each other. Bucky opened his arms wide for her to find her rightful place in his embrace.

"It's okay" she mumbled against his sturdy chest. "Welcome home." She continued.

You'd be surprise to know how much the former winter soldier absolutely adore the feeling of her lips moving against his skin. Even if it was blocked by the fabric of his shirt. It always felt good and he swore he could not get enough of it.

Bucky leaned down on top of her head, inhaling the strawberry yogurt scent of her shampooed hair, "Yes. I am home, indeed." His hugged got tighter, crushing her just enough to make those pretty little sounds slipped her from lips.

Strings of hushed moan kept purring in her throat when Bucky lightly swayed her from side to side; his fleshed hand drawing invisible circles on the back of her waist, while his metal hand gently squeeze the back of her neck.

If she let him pamper her more than this, they'd probably forget that Sam was in the room. Unabashedly had his mouth agape at the sight in front of him. He was not sure whether he wanted to look away or to continue staring because no amount of explanation will suffice to answer his questions.

Peeking from Bucky's shoulder, she smiled warmly as she finally acknowledge the unexpected guest, "You must be Sam. I've heard a lot about you."

She tried to wiggle an escape from Bucky arms, but it was no avail; he was not planning to let her go any time soon. She ended up dragging the enormous koala bear who was stuck on her back as she offered Sam a handshake, introducing herself.

"Good things I hope." Sam took her hand and lightly shake it as she replied, "Of course." As much as he wanted to keep his eye contact with her, it was extremely hard when the grumpy super soldier that he knew was basically melting in crook of her neck.

"I don't want to be rude but the two of you are..." Sam purposely left his words hanging, hoping that one of them would finish the sentence before he let out his assumption, however both of them remained silent. The woman was blinking at him confused, while Bucky was practically still drooling over the her.

"...Lovers?" Sam ended his sentence with an uncertain tone.

Both of them went rigid to the question but before Bucky could say anything, she answered first, "No!" She almost shouted, taking a deep breath before she rephrase her answer, "No. I mean yes. We're not... like that."

"So, you guys are friends then?" Sam quirked an eyebrow to her answer, and seeing Bucky's silence, he guessed that the super soldier might liked her more than just 'friends'.

"Yup, we are. We first met when Bucky was on the run from Hydra, before you guys found him. It's a long story, really." And by the time she explained the shorten version of their story, Bucky finally drifted his attention to Sam, a deep frown decorated his brows as he was mentally asking, "How much longer are you going to stand there? Get the fuck out."

Sam should be offended by his silent orders but considering he came in the middle of the night, uninvited, he realized that he should leave them be,"Then, let that be a reason for us to meet again. You can tell me all about this meet-cute of yours later. I don't want to keep you away from him any longer. Especially when he is staring daggers at me."

She lightly tapped on Bucky's arms, and quick frown at him followed after as she non-verbally asking him stop glaring at Sam. Needless to say, Sam removed himself from the scene after they, or rather she, bid him goodbye.

As soon as the doors closed, Bucky has her back pressed against the door, wasting no time than to capture her lips. A gasped from her made it easy for him to slip his tongue inside. He kissed her slow yet so hungrily as if he was starved of the taste of her sweet mouth against his.

Bucky broke the kiss momentarily just to whisper, "I missed you so much, babydoll." With his thigh in between her legs, he guided her clothed core to slowly hump against him. "Missed you, too." Her beautiful moans only encourage his cock to swell even more than it already was.

Breaking the kiss, Bucky let her catch a breath as his glazed eyes adored her soft features. He still remembered the day when he first met her.  When he escaped from Hydra's control, he was determined to keep his life down low. Don't attract to much attention, follow the schedule and stick to rules.

And his schedule was never interesting, it was always:

- write his journal entry

- find/do odd and non-permenant jobs for money

- grocery shopping and cooking

- watch the news

- and mostly just stay at home

Obviously, Bucky knows how to use the internet and all those modern devices that they have nowadays, but he never understand them; the 'social media' and the 'viral' things were never really appealing to him. So one day he decided to pay a visit to a small local library; hoping to find fimiliar solace in books instead.

What are the odds that both of them reach for the same book at the same time? After the multiple exchange of: 'Oh, I'm sorry, here take it.' 'No, you take.' 'No, please I insist.' They ended up meeting on a common ground; making a decision to sit down and read together. Turns out, spending a few hours with her at the library was the most peace he had since forever.

Bucky had a strict routine and rules. But the moment she asked him if he want to spend more time with her while she was there, he was ready to break all of it. And he did; for 7 days straight.

She was his first sense of freedom. His first choice in life.

Though, back then he was on a run, for presumably a lifetime, while she was on business trip for a week. So, they lost contact after that, especially when Bucky was running around with the Avengers and fighting aliens, but fate seemed to be on their side when they were reunited again in New York.

It's a miracle that she even recognized him. Little did he knew, he wasn't the only one who got hooked on the first few hours of that reading session had.

Though, he was extremely grateful that she reach out the moment she recognized him; no hesitant, no doubt. Just a confident and cheerful shout of his name in middle of the park that he walks through everyday.

The first thing that came out from her mouth after calling out his name was a compliment of his new hair cut and how she can see his beautiful eyes more clearer now. And that alone had made Bucky absolutely red in blush.

Weeks after that, she often joined him with his daily walk, making it their routine instead of just his. And months into this newly founded 'friendship', they found solace in each other's arms, comfort in each other's touch, and this quickly become their new favourite activity to do together.

Though none of them ever actually discuss their status but their body language suggest that they are more than just friends.

Especially with the way Bucky was rubbing the tip of his leaking cock on her clit; so desperate yet so gentle. Just like how he always does when he makes love to her. But, tonight he felt different. Maybe he was just needy or maybe it was the way she admit that they were not lovers when Sam asked about their relationship.

It was true. But, it felt so wrong.

"Am I just a friend to you, doll? Bucky leaned forward, his forehead met hers, his hot breath tickling her skin.

His tongue briefly passed in between his lips as he spreads her legs further, revealing her dripping cunt for his display, "Do your friends touch you like this, hmm?" His husky whisper as he rubbed his hardened length in between her slit, brushing against her clit.

"Do your friends kiss you all over like me?" She moaned breathily, as he bit and kiss the softness of her breasts; easily leaving his marks as if she was his to claim.

And without any warning, his cock slammed straight into her hole, stretching the walls to his size causing her to yelp in painful pleasure. Bucky let out a satisfied groan as the tightness of her around him, "Do your friends fuck this tight little pussy with their cock like me?"

Bucky couldn’t stop himself from pulling and pushing his hips to meet hers, his fingertips was practically digging into the flesh of her hips, moving her in time with his thrusts, "What am I to you, baby?" Honestly, it was hard for her to form complete thoughts, let alone reply to his question when he was fucking her so good.

Gone was the gentleman she knew for the past years, the koala bear that she spent hours on the couch cuddling to a movie marathon with. Now, there was only this feral beast, hungry for pleasure, insatiable to devour her whole body and soul.

Each roll of his hips pushed her further from her sober thoughts, focusing only on the wild look on his face, his huge body hunched over hers, his throbbing cock kissing her cervix. Any answer she was trying to convey was lost at the tip of her tongue; there were just the mewling mess, as she fell apart underneath him, compliant to his every thrust as his cock ramming within her. "Tell me. Come on, now. Use your words."

Bucky was almost losing his mind, from how bad he wanted to cum and how stubborn she was for not answering his questions. He pushed her legs up and wide as his thrust punctuated to his words,  "What. Am. I. To. You?"

It took her a couple of long moans at his roughness, before she could utter a single word, the only correct answer to his question, "Mine."

He groaned approvingly, pulling back just enough to slide his metal between their bodies. "I'm yours?" Those hard, cold fingers that she loved so much was quick to find her clit. She was already sensitive from all the friction of his rutting, and now was he relentlessly assaulting the swollen nub, "Then, does that make you mine as well huh, sweetheart?"

"Yes, Bucky. You're mine. And I'm yours. All yours. Pleasee"

Her back arches off the bed, toes curling tight as her nails dug into his skin and across his back; To have some kind of a leverage to hold as the overwhelming pleasure surged through her body.

"Yeah, that's right, babygirl. You're mine and mine alone. Mine to love, mine to fuck. Yes?" Bucky taunted her with both his words and the way he rutted into her wet pussy, as if he himself was not close to the egde.

The sound of skin to skin clashing intertwined with the sounds of her pussy squelching around his cock, his girth kept pounding straight into her sweet spot to the point that only lewd whimpers of plead were spewing out of her lips, "Yes, yes yes. Oh Bucky please,, fuck,, I'm cumming!"

"Cum, sweetheart. Let me feel that tight little pussy of mine cum around my cock" He hummed approvingly as he picked a deeper and harsher pace, causing her mouth to fall wide open and her eyes screwed shut as she felt her whole body shook as she came. "Yeah,, that's it, doll. That's my girl. fuckkk,, feels so good baby, gonna make me cum inside you if you keep choking me like that."

"Please, Bucky?" A breathy moan of his name passed her lips as she her walls spasm with need. Bucky groan to the sensation, he was sure that her pussy was already full of his precum, considering how it has been leaking inside her for so long, "Want my cum in you, pretty girl?"

Batting her eyes through her lashes, she stared up at him, pleading., "Need it, please."

"Oh fuck, you got it, sweetheart." Throwing his head back in pleasure, shutting his eyes solely to focus of the feeling of her wet and tight cunt, Bucky's pace quicken as he chased his high, "Hmmm,, fuckk,, gonna stuff you full. You'll leaking for days, babydoll. Then, I'm gonna keep filling you until you can't live without my cum inside your pussy."

Hearing such dirty confessiom only triggers her to near orgasm, "Yess pleasee i want it. Need it, bucky." Surely enough she came again when he hit that special spot inside her.

"Ahh,, fuck ahhh,, I'm cumming shit pussy so good m'cumming fuckkkk", Bucky couldn’t even stop himself from rutting in and out of her sweet pussy as his cock pulsed, especially when her cunt was sucking him in deeper.

His head fall down to watch his cock disappear inside her before squeezing it shut again when the white spurt of cum shoots against her walls. His jaw was loose as his mouth formed an ‘o’ shape to allow his loud groans contaminated the silenced room.

His thick endless cum warm her insides and the honeyed moans hanging off her lips to its own accord as Bucky hunched over her frame, pressing his face in crook of her neck, breathing heavily as she was. After awhile, a broken sound of his voice stopped the silence, "Do you really mean it?"

He refused to look at her in the eyes, afraid of the rejection that might come his way but she proved him wrong by holding him by his cheeks, leading his eyes to align with hers,

"Bucky. You, my dear, are my bestfriend; you are my heart, you are my person. And there is no one in this world that I'd rather spend my whole life with besides you." Her words was nothing but the truth and Bucky knew that.

His heart swelled with joy yet he didn't know how to express it other than, "I love you, doll..." there was pause as if he was gathering the pieces of his soul to offer it to her, "...So much."

And she accepted it with her whole heart, "I love you too, Bucky."

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: I was gone for awhile but never too long. Hope you enjoy this little drabble 👀

Good morning! This is just a warm up, not canon to the series.

Anyway — bark, woof, awoo

It’s a cool fall day when you nearly die.

Johnny’s run off into the woods barking - not his scary bark but his excited bark. You’re worried that he’s gonna get his teeth in some poor local wildlife and go hurrying after him, boots unlaced.

Of course it’s hopeless to go chasing after a wolf-dog even running at half speed, but you can’t stand the thought of him coming home with a dead bunny or something. So off you go, clomping through the trees, calling for your big dumb fluffy butt to come home.

But it’s not your Johnny that comes trotting out of the trees. No, it’s an even bigger, wolfier looking dog. Creamy white fur, honey gold eyes, and odd black markings around the face like a skull. You instantly know he’s not like your goofball, a little less human-friendly, perhaps more feral. Looks at you like he’s trying to decide if you’d make a decent meal.

Is someone breeding them and just.., letting them out?? Some weird poorly thought out attempt to reintroduce wolves to the UK? The thought makes you frown, praying that you won’t come out here one day to find some poor pups struggling in the wilderness.

For now though, you’ve got yet another gorgeous animal in front of you.

“Well, hello,” you coo, softening and smoothing your voice. His ears tick forward. “Look at you, handsome thing. Have you seen my Johnny boy?”

The dog tilts his head - your first indication that he is familiar with humans, recognizes the tone of a question. You hum.

“Alright big guy, would you like to come with me to find him or are you doing your own thing?”

He doesn’t respond (of course) except to make a little “ruff” noise. You consider him for another moment, then decide he’s not being aggressive and it’s safe to continue your search.

You turn and continue on the path, calling for Johnny. Don’t get far before your new friend sweeps in front of you, blocking the way forward. You make a noise as you stop quick, nearly losing your balance to avoid stepping on his paws.

“Oh you big jerk,” you huff. He instantly starts pushing at you, big shoulders pressing against your stomach as he shoves a big, wet nose into your neck and face, focusing on your mouth. You roll your eyes and gently push his nose away.

“Knock it off,” you grumble, trying not to laugh. “You wolves are so rude. You don’t need to do that to smell me.”

He moves on to your clothes, all the way down to your crotch. You’re ready this time though, taking a big step back and guiding his face up by the chin.

“No.”

He snorts and shakes off, looking almost annoyed.

“Oh, yeah, how dare I not let you sniff my junk?” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Grow up, you big baby.”

A deep, raspy grumble starts up in his chest. You ignore him, patting at the thick muscle of his shoulder.

“Yeah yeah, you’re a big scary boy,” you joke. “Ya gonna bite me? Show me your big pretty teeth?”

When you reach for his face he takes a step back, ears flicking. Looks almost shellshocked. You finally break, giggling as you croon baby noises at him.

“Oh, poor boy, did I spook you? I’m sorry, baby. No, no you’re very scary. Very intimidating.” You start scooting around him, amused how curves around you almost like he’s afraid you’re going to touch him. “It’s okay, buddy, I just need to find my boy. I’m not out to get you.”

As if on cue, Johnny comes bursting from the trees. He barks when he sees you, then almost comes up short when he realizes the other dog is there.

You become acutely aware that you’re not all too sure how Johnny will respond to another dog - especially one so close to you given his protectiveness. You instantly move between them, calling his attention.

“There you are, Bonnie Johnny! Where have you been?! Naughty boy, you better not have eaten anything fluffy.” His ears go back, a little whine starting up. He ducks his head to let you grab at his muzzle, inspecting him for anything gross. “I do not feel like wrangling you to brush your teeth.”

Luckily, he seems clean. Whatever had him so excited, he must not have caught.

Movement behind you catches your attention, the other dog loping closer. Your eyes bounce between them, watching body language for any aggression or hostility. To your relief, Johnny seems almost excited by this new friend - the other one… well, he seems a bit more subdued, but lets Johnny lick at his chin and bump into his side.

“Okay, ready to head home, baby boy?” you ask, giving Johnny’s collar a gentle tug. “I have to start making dinner.”

He whines, turning those big blue eyes on you and positioning himself behind the other dog. You groan.

“Johnny, really… I don’t know if I can handle two of you. I don’t even think he likes me very much.”

As if to spite you, the other dog sits and leans in, licking at your hand. And damn it, it’s cute.

“Alright, hold on, let’s just see if…”

This time, the other dog lets you touch, feels around his neck for a collar that unsurprisingly isn’t there. You feel around his shoulders too, hoping for that tiny bump that means he has a microchip, but nope.

“If I have a nickel for every time I found a wolf-dog in the woods…” you sigh, turning back for home. “It would be two nickels but it’s weird that it happened twice.”

When you notice both pups stalling, you whistle sharply.

“Come. It’s getting cold.”

Johnny instantly bounds ahead with excitement while your new companion is slightly slower, staying just a bit behind and to the side of you so that you can see him from the corner of your eye.

Back at home, Johnny leads the way inside. The strange dog looks around curiously, sniffs at a few spots. It’s then that you remember Johnny marking the house his first couple days and notice that Mystery Dog is also unaltered.

“Hey.” Both dogs turn to you. You point at the new one sternly. “If you pee on anything in here - anything - I’m dying you pink. By god I’ll do it, there are dog safe hair dyes.”

You get a sneeze for that and he walks away with disinterest, but at least he keeps his leg down. You’ll take it.

Dinner is interesting, no fussing or fighting over food from either of them. When they’re done, you retire to the couch, Johnny happy to follow up until he sees that his new friend isn’t coming as well.

He starts yipping, bouncing, bowing, trying to get the new one to follow. You’re amused up until Johnny nips and the bigger dog growls, showing teeth. You plant yourself instantly between them.

“Hey.” You look the new dog in the eye, get into his space and back him away from Johnny. “No the hell you’re not.”

The new dog stares, eyes locked on yours, ears swiveling. You don’t back down, watching and looking waiting, still bodily between him and Johnny. Until finally his ears go back and he sneezes, laying down.

“Good.” You soften your voice, sigh. “Good boy.”

You offer your hand. Get a sniff and a resigned lick, then scratch at your new boy’s ears.

“You be nice, big boy. Everyone in this house is mine. I take care of everyone.”

His eyes do a weird thing then. You’re not sure how to describe it, combined with the way his head tilts. But you just chalk it up to Weird Dog Things and finally return to the couch, an oddly subdued Johnny clambering up with you.

“You can join us, honey,” you call to the other dog. “You’re welcome up here if you behave.”

He doesn’t take you up on it for awhile. You and Johnny settle in for your usual nightly shows. And then, about an hour later, movement draws your eye. The Mystery Dog, standing at the edge of the couch with his tail down, ears neutral.

Earlier drama forgotten, you smile at him.

“Hi there,” you chirp, “you want up? C’mon, bud. Up.”

He hops up with surprisingly gentleness, picking his way around your limbs and Johnny’s. He ends up crawling over your dog and settling half on top of him, and half on top of you, his chin settled between Johnny’s stupid perky ears. Johnny seems thrilled so you laugh a bit.

“What good boys,” you coo, giving them each a scratch and receiving a kiss in return. “Alright, this isn’t so bad.”

You fall asleep there, already trying to come up with name for your new pup. Maybe Phantom.

The Werewolf’s Bitch

Yandere Male Werewolf x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Noncon, breeding, knotting, inhuman genitals, reader eaten out, drool, piss marking, watersports, scent marking, lycanthropy, reader bitten by werewolf at end, smut, kidnapping, reader briefly stalked, general yandere behavior, yandere bully, bullied reader)  Word Count: 4.4k (Sorry that this is being reposted, I needed to edit the story and tumblr would not let me until I just deleted the whole thing, anyway, I worked extremely hard of this so I could hurry up and do more commissions, I am panicking because the window for cool season planting is nearly upon us. I normally would NOT rush to post a fic in the same day that I already posted one. I know the watersports is not everyone’s thing, but it has been a while since I wrote a fic with that kink and when I asked reader’s whether or not I should I got only positive responses, so I hope some people like this)

You were a librarian, you had always had a penchant for books, an obsession really, and you loved reading many different kinds. Right now you were reading The Bartimaeus Trilogy by Jonathan Stroud,  it was a fantasy series. It didn’t matter whether or not you liked the fantasy genre, your friend who was not super into reading kept recommending the series to you so you had to give it a shot. You were enjoying the light breeze and gentle sunshine towards the back of the park, in a lightly wooded area where the park gradually shifted into a forest. Leisurely, you continued to read until the sun just began to set. Little did you know someone was watching you from the trees. Axle hadn’t seen you in years, though it wasn’t uncommon for his thoughts to drift to you. He had a serious crush on you in high school, but so worried about his image he had not wanted to date the nerd so he bullied you instead. Relentlessly. He often thought what if he had been sweeter on you and more up front about his feelings, he’d probably have his arms wrapped around you and his cock buried deep inside you. Axle still would have picked on you, of course, it was how he showed affection and dominance, but it wouldn’t have been nearly cruel and relentless as it had been. And he would have been really sweet to you at times too, since he was sure little nerdy bookworms liked that kinda shit. His life wasn’t all bad though, he had been “afflicted” with lycanthropy. It wasn’t nearly as bad as the legends and folklore made it seem, for most people. Most were not feral and could freely change forms whenever they wished, from human, to wolf, and to the bulky hybrid form that most people thought of when they heard the word “werewolf.” There were exceptions though, some people did go feral in their wolf forms and change unwillingly during full moons. An encounter with one such creature was what had passed on the magical gift to him. Now his life was free, he lurked the woods for prey, hunted and then cooked what he had caught in a large cave he had claimed as his den. The lifestyle suited him, he could pretty much do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, but it was a lonely existence and he wished he had a mate. Axle had been walking around, contemplating what he could do to get some friends or maybe even a lover when suddenly his nose, now hypersensitive even in his human form, picked up a familiar scent. One that he had not smelled in years but nevertheless one that he would be able to place anywhere. He had stolen whiffs of you while having you in headlocks and pushing you into lockers, had deeply inhaled the aroma of your underwear after sneaking into the locker room and stealing them whenever he was sure he wouldn’t get caught. So when he caught your wonderful smell in the breeze he bolted towards it. Just to watch, he thought to himself. And he did just watch, for a while. His eyes drank in your sight as the golden afternoon sun illuminated you so perfectly. Still such a fucking bookworm, reading all the way out here. The more he looked at you the tighter his pants got, would it really be such a bad thing if he just took you away? He could steal all the books you could want if that made you happy. You’d look so cute reading by the fire before he impaled you on his dick. It wasn’t like you could get away from him, even without his new found abilities he was faster and stronger than you could ever hope to be, but now that he was supernaturally imbued there was no chance you could ever get away from him. If you screamed it was okay, there were no witnesses around for the abduction and when he was fucking you back in his den there would be no one around for miles. He readjusted his cock in his torn jeans, fully erect at the thought. He talked himself into it. It wasn’t that hard, this may be his chance to have the future with you he had missed out on previously. You started to get up to leave, placing the book you had been reading into your backpack with the rest of your books that you planned to get through. Suddenly someone rushed out from the trees and snatched your backpack before you could put it on, running with it deeper into the forest. All you could see was their back as they ran off. Axle made sure not to run too fast because he knew you would chase him without thinking to get your precious books. “Please stop! Please! There’s nothing in there other than books! Please!” You screamed and chased the figure deep into the forest, until a chill ran through you as you looked around. You no longer recognized where you were and it was getting ever darker. Axle could have just used force to bring you this far, but he was enjoying playing with you like he used to. Just as you began to turn around and give up on the figure before you he turned around and was on you in an instant.

You recognized him immediately as you saw his face before he put his arm around your neck and licked up your neck creepily. You’d never forget who those mischievous eyes, cruel smirk, snake bite piercings and spiky punk style blond hair that was shaved at the sides belonged to.  

“A-Axle!? What the heck!? Let go! Wh-what do you want with me,” your voice was filled with fear and your eyes began to water, threatening to cry. “Well, you were in my neighborhood and I thought we could catch up~” You kept struggling in his grip, but you were winded from the chase earlier. What he said made no sense, there were no nearby homes, but you were a bit too busy to really contemplate his words. You punch and kicked at him but he just laughed like he had just heard the most hilarious joke, it would have been very insulting if being in a dark forest being manhandled by your old bully wasn’t so terrifying. Axle moved his arm around your neck then ruffled your hair, something about the gesture made you think he wasn’t out to just kill you. But then he gripped your arm tighter and started dragging you deeper into the woods. Your writhing and struggles to free yourself from his iron grasp did nothing to slow him down in the least. There was still a long way to go though, and instead of dragging you and hurting your much more delicate arms he hoisted you into his arms and slung you over his shoulder before starting to run at a speed not normal for a human. This also had the added benefit of scaring you and making you cry those adorable tears of yours. You kicked and screamed the whole time he held you, but the only thing you managed to accomplish was a severely sore throat and further exhaustion. In only a few short minutes Axle covered quite a distance with you. Not tired or out of breath at all despite the speed he ran at or the fact that he was carrying an entire adult on his shoulders. When he arrived at the cave he sat you down on a large bundle of stolen pillows, coats, blankets, and other soft materials. “W-where are we? Wh-why did you bring me here,” you asked almost unintelligibly through the hoarseness of your voice and the fear causing you to stammer. The fear you felt actually tugged a tiny bit at Axle’s heart, he just wanted to teasingly scare you, not make you all terrified. Poor little wimp. His little wimp, he thought, feeling a bit fluttery. Axle sat down beside you and roughly pulled you into his lap before caressing your arm and holding you close, in a manner he thought may be comforting. “What are you d-d-doing!? I don’t like this!” You were, understandably, immensely uncomfortable. Your former bully had his hands all over you. Did he think this was a hilarious prank? And why did he live in a cave? Was he a serial killer that lived in the woods in search of victims?? With each question your heartbeat increased.   Axle could hear your heartbeat. Still so sweet and fearful, just like you always had been~ But he didn’t want you to only associate him with fear and have a heart attack every time he held you. “Shhh, babe, shhh. It’s alright. I promise I won’t hurt you okay? I’ll keep you nice and safe~” Apparently he was not tactful enough to realize that licking and sucking at your oh so sensitive neck, was not very soothing to you. When you thrashed more and not less he got the memo and just held you close instead. There would be time for other stuff later. Right now holding you was enough, drinking in your scent like it was booze, and it was almost more intoxicating. He laid down on his side and pulled a very confused and scared you close to him once more, his arms hugging you tightly as if clinging to a life preserver. While Axle had never slept better than that night with you in his arms you stayed up until sheer exhaustion forced you into a troubled sleep. And when he woke he was so happy, he had half been worried everything had been a dream but no, you were really in his arms like you should have been for all these years. Axle wanted you to be awake so he determined that the most prudent way to wake you up was to pinch your ass. Much to his satisfaction, you woke up easily with a startled yelp, almost jolting off of the bedding. You were confused for a moment as your brain scrambled to remember where the fuck you were and why the fuck you were there instead of at home in your comfortable and familiar bed. And what had just assaulted your butt? Then the memories of the night before smacked into you like a brick wall. Axle. He had kidnapped you and spooned you all night for some unknown reason. Probably some sick prank, if he was just going to beat you up and murder you he would have done that already right? Not say all that stuff trying to comfort you before sleeping by you. Axle pulled you close and once again drew his tongue slowly up your cheek, like it was some sort of odd kiss, it creeped you out but you didn’t say anything opting instead to flinch away at his touch. “Oh come on, don’t be such a pussy, I haven’t hurt you,” he said smirking, obviously enjoying the bit of fear he caused from such a small action. “A-are you ever going to tell me why the hell you made me come here?” “What? I haven’t made you cum yet! Hahaha, I will later though.” You rolled your eyes at his juvenile joke but he just stared at you with a hungry look in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m serious! Wh-why am I here, this is insane and illegal! I-I’m leaving!” You started to walk towards the path that led to the cave entrance, but Axle growled in such an animal-like and primal way while stepping forward to block your path that it frightened you into remaining still. “You’re not leaving okay, nerd? You want to know why you’re here? Well it’s so I can fuck you silly and have someone to spend time with. I’m your boyfriend and you’re my property. So sit down, read your little books by the fire, and get settled because I am going to go get us some food and when I come back we are going to eat then we are going to go at it like rabbits.” You stared at him with eyes wide, now more paralyzed than ever with fear and utter bewilderment. He couldn’t be serious could he? You didn’t want that at all, this is the piece of shit that made your entire middle and high school years an absolute horror to get through. During your stunned silence he walked up to you and kissed you quickly on the lips before rushing out of the cave to search for some food. Was he stupid on top of absolutely bat shit crazy? Did he really think you were just going to stay here to be raped by him? Did he actually believe that you would be totally okay with being abducted by your former bully and you would be so enamored with him that not only would you let him put his dick anywhere you but you would also let him be your boyfriend?? Obviously that was not going to fucking happen in any way, shape, form, or fashion. You gave him a few minutes to get far away and then you gathered your bag of reading materials and headed out of the cave that Axle called home. It was too easy, luckily you remembered the general direction back to the park and began on your merry way, running as fast as your feet could carry you. Axle, though, was not really stupid. He may have been a bit of an impulsive hothead and a brute, but he was not without some intelligence. He figured you would almost certainly try to escape while he was out and about and he kept his hunt somewhat near the cave, and down wind from it. Once you left the shelter the wind quickly carried your scent right to his powerful nose. He could smell you so clearly and immediately made a beeline for your precise location. You had thought things were going well, you had put significant distance between you and the cave and were sure he would not be able to catch up to you. But you heard some rustling through the grass and a snap of twigs. You turned around and saw him coming right for you with unholy speed, Axle. Somehow he managed to close the distance between the two of you much faster than should have been possible before lunging and tackling you to the forest floor. This time you didn’t even bother struggling once he had a hold of you. Once more he slung you over his shoulder, smirking this time as you went limp, that was good. At the very least you were learning you could not fight him. Now you only had to learn you couldn’t run either. He wasn’t worried, you were a nerd after all, you would learn quickly. Before you knew it you were back in the cave, he placed you carefully on the rocky floor. You looked at him curiously wondering what he was going to do to you. He responded only with a shit eating grin. He began trying to take off your pants and clothes, and you struggled as much as you could. Which disappointed him, he thought you would have realized that he could always over power you, he had always been able to. Axle let out another beastly growl and that seemed to get the message across, this was happening. As he undid his belt you began to fear the worst, you were sitting naked below him as he was about to whip out his dick, what else could you expect to happen? You began to cry and plead for him not to rape you. He used his belt to tie up your arms before he pulled his pants down slightly. You stared at him as he stood before you with his prick aimed directly at you. Before you could figure out what he was doing he unleashed a hot stream piss all over your naked body. The smell was pungent and you gagged a bit as some of the fluid found its way into your mouth, he must have been holding it for a while because he completely drenched you. Axle had a devilish grin. “This should help remind you of your place. You are my little bitch got it? The scent will make it much easier to smell you and keep anyone else away. And I doubt you will try to scurry off without clothes.” Your abductor laughed maniacally as he emptied your books out on the table and took the bag. He placed all your clothing in it before slinging it around his back. “Be a good little weakling and wait here. Not that you have a choice,” he said as he departed. Axle made a mental note to scent mark you like that regularly, you covered in his scent made him almost lose control and breed you right then and there. But you both needed food, you were a fragile little thing he desperately wanted to take good care of and keep healthy and you would both need your energy for the all night fuck fest he had planned. Back on the floor of the cavern you were defeated, your face wet with tears and piss. You reeked of him and the fluid was becoming dry and sticky in places. This wasn’t fair, what had you done to deserve this. You never bothered anyone, you were a sweet person who just wanted to be lost in their books. You lay on that floor, stiff, stinking, and sticky for what felt like hours until Axle returned, but in reality he had only been gone around fifty or so minutes. He sauntered in with a hand that held a bundle of dead rabbits, and another hand full of foraged vegetables, fruits, and nuts. You wondered how he had caught anything. He did not seem to have any weapons or traps around. “Ah, there’s my good little bitch, I see you stayed in place for me.” Axle took his haul of food into another room of the cavern, presumably a larder or kitchen of some sort, before coming back and tending to you. He undid the belt binding your arms and was about to clean you up, but something about you stopped him. He paused and took a moment to just stare at you, so obedient, so drenched in his scent, so good for him. A perfect little mate. And a perfect mate needed to be bred and marked in the most permanent manner possible. Forgetting his plans to feed the both of you and then go at it later that night sniffed at you and let out a low growl. He needed to mate his bitch. Now. You were limp as a rag doll as he picked you up and put you in the pile of bedding material, despite the gross “scent marking” that he had applied to you not even being rinsed off yet. You felt Axle’s warm tongue carefully licking at your crotch, occasionally he broke away to kiss your soft thighs. His strong hands roamed every inch of your flesh that they could reach. He was like an animal as he began lapping at your entrance, stretching you out and getting you ready for mating. When his tongue slid into you it finally elicited a response and broke you out of your catatonic state. You tried to push him away to no avail, though he did take a moment to look up at all the commotion. As you looked at him you realized he almost seemed a bit larger than he was earlier, and had he always had that stubble, you could have swore that he had been clean shaven. Not that you had been in the best emotional state to make such careful observations. But then you saw a change made before your very eyes, and there was no denying it. His previously brown eyes had turned a fierce glowing yellow and as drool pooled and dripped at the corners of his mouth his teeth grew longer and sharper. Now you were really scared, more terrified than you had been since your kidnapping, what was this beast? Meanwhile Axle was running almost entirely on instinct, he had a vague sense of self but his impulses were simply too strong for him to ignore. The more you struggled the more he felt the unbearable need to prove himself to you. You were denying him as his mate so he had to show you how strong and capable he was, he had to be the mightiest he could be so you would be happy with him and have no doubts who the strongest man for you was. No doubt who owned you. He continued to transform into a full blown werewolf right before your very eyes. His clothing tore away as they were ripped apart by the muscles bulging out beneath, thick blonde fur covered every inch of his body, claws grew from his nails, you could see glimpses of a tail swinging strongly behind him and his ears grew longer. His erect cock became canine like in nature and his musky nuts sung below, full of potent seed to fill you with. You screamed in terror and tried to kick him away but the beast that was formerly Axle would not allow itself to be denied. Had to mate you. Had to prove himself as a good partner. Had to show you he was powerful, could keep you safe. You tried to kick him away but this only cemented in his mind the absolute need to subdue you and yew his. During his shift into his strongest form you had managed to scoot away from him, he grabbed you by the ankles and pulled you back towards him, you tried to grab at anything you could to stop him, futilely throwing pillows and blankets at him in a last ditch hail Mary attempt to get away, but it was as hopeless as all your other attempts. When he had you under him he forced you into a mating press and shoved his hard cock to the hilt inside of your drool slickened hole. Once he was deep inside he let loose another wave of piss. Had to mark your insides as his property. Had to. Needed to make sure no one else thought about using his property. His mate. His. After Axle had once again marked you with his urine he began slowly thrusting in and out of you. But he quickly got tired of the pace, werewolves were not exactly known for restraint, especially when so deeply under the spell of their instincts. You yelped as he painfully shoved himself in and out of your quickly sore hole. Precum, drool, and piss leaked out of you and down his shaft and balls as he bred you, his huge nut sack slapping your ass with every thrust. Luckily you had been so well lubed by all of his fluids or else you would have been in extreme pain. You were ashamed to admit it but your body was betraying you and the railing you were receiving from this barely human monster was beginning to feel amazing. His knot was slowly swelling within you, creating delicious friction as it rubbed against your inner walls. But interrupting any climax you were making your way towards was Axle as he nuzzled your neck with his wet nose before aggressive licking and nipping at it. But he did not stop there, he had to mark you, make you his mate, claim you in every way, you’d look even more beautiful wearing his claim. So without hesitation or forethought for the consequences of turning you into a werewolf, he bit down at the nape of your neck. Hard. You cried out in a startled shock as he licked away the blood from your fresh wound. He had to comfort his mate. Had to. He didn’t stop licking until your tears lessened and you seemed relatively calm. The entire time he was biting you though he was still fucking you at a moderate pace, and he finally came to the beautiful sound of your overstimulated cries and whimpers. You were so good for him. Perfect fragile little bitch made to be filled up full of his seed and protected by him. You felt a growing pressure inside of you as his knot reached full size, binding the two of you together, and his cock throbbed deep within you as it shot rope after rope of warm semen. You had not gotten your climax yet though, and he couldn’t accept that, you had taken his so so well, you had been such a good mate, the perfect breeding bitch, you even took his mark and everything. Even if it wasn’t by choice. You deserved to feel pleasure. So Axle rocked his hard knot back and forth inside you, as much as he could move it with it at the size that it was, and slowly coaxed an orgasm from your hot mess of a body. He stopped when he felt it and heard you moan and whimper loudly, your voice full of pleasure. After achieving his goal of pumping his wimpy bookworm full he finally regained clarity of mind and his instincts lost their grip on his actions. He realized what he had done and was a bit embarrassed he had lost control like that. He had planned to very slowly ease you into the truth about being a werewolf. Still, he couldn’t argue with the results, you passed out under him from all the sensations he had brought to you, and him on top of you with his cock tight and snug within your hot depths. He was not in the least worried about you being a werewolf, it would only make you more dependent on him, you did not know the first thing about being one. And if you ever did escape he could always overpower you. He was stronger than you when you were both humans and he would remain stronger than you in any form. You would always be Axle’s bitch.  

⋆｡° ✮ Specials:

Lunas Kinktober 2023

Avatar: 12 Days of Kinkmas 2023

Romancing Pandora 2024

Avatar: Mating Season 2024

— ❝ Who’s the mighty warrior? Come on, say it. ❞

⋆｡° ✮ The heat that spreads

Neteyam is more than happy to help you out when you are in heat.

⋆｡° ✮ Lost and found (mini series)

Neteyam hates humans. One day, he finds you all alone and lost in the forest, but quickly decides against killing you. What might be the odd reason for that?

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

⋆｡° ✮ Three is always unfortunate

(Stepbro!Neteyam AU) Neteyam is ready to do everything in his might to protect his precious little sister. Especially from mean boys that can’t keep their hands to themselves.

⋆｡° ✮ Not good enough

(Stepbro!Neteyam AU) Neteyam isn’t happy about the future mate his parents have chosen for you. Afterall, no one can compare to him.

⋆｡° ✮ Work of art

You’re an artist and Neteyam accidentally finds your secret notebook, full of filthy drawings you’ve made to cope with the little crush you had on him.

⋆｡° ✮ Special friends (mini series)

Neteyam was so used to being the golden child of his family, always doing as he’s told… he wanted to be bad sometimes too. He wanted to be the one that would teach you all these filthy things. All the things you were never allowed to do, talk or even think about.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5

⋆｡° ✮ Competitive hate

When you compete, it’s always a battle to see who will get the upper hand. And when you fuck, it’s the same struggle.

⋆｡° ✮ Drunk words, sober secrets

Getting drunk with Ao‘nung was probably not the best idea you ever had. Good thing a certain someone always makes sure you‘ll get home safe and sound.

⋆｡° ✮ Infected

(Stepbro!Neteyam AU) While on a hunt with your stepbrother Neteyam, he comes in contact with something that makes him act… strange.

⋆｡° ✮ A lesson on concentration

(featuring Neytan) Lately, you can’t seem to focus on any of your training lessons in preparation for your upcoming iknimaya and your karyu [teacher] are determined to find out why.

⋆｡° ✮ Unwinding together

Neteyam seems quite tense lately, and like the good friend that you are, you offer him a way to relief all of his stress.

⋆｡° ✮ Feral hearts

There is always a thrill to the chase.

⋆｡° ✮ Sweet dreams

(Stepbro!Neteyam AU) It’s date night, the marui is quiet and Neteyam has you all to himself.

⋆｡° ✮ A mighty warriors need

The only trouble Neteyam allows himself to get into, is you.

⋆｡° ✮ Drabbles:

Neteyam loves when you wear short dresses

Some sneaky under the table action

Dom!Neteyam edging himself

How he would celebrate your birthday

Discovering that the word "sir" turns him on

He makes you squirt for the first time

Neteyam learns what a lollipop is

Stepbro!Neteyam + cockwarming

Distracting him when he’s grumpy

Possessive / toxic Neteyam

Public make out session with Neteyam while your mate is busy looking for you

Free use kink

Forming an alliance with So‘lek

— ❝ Sorry, I don’t speak english to assholes. ❞

⋆｡° ✮ Bittersweet revenge

Ever since the day Lo‘ak had found out that you’ve chosen to rescue your father, the man that basically murdered Neteyam and made his whole life hell, he was out for revenge.

⋆｡° ✮ Movie night

(Stepbro!Lo’ak AU) Lo’ak can’t keep his hands to himself. Not even during movie night.

⋆｡° ✮ Sharing is caring

(featuring Spider) Sometimes, all you need is a good friend who is willing to share.

⋆｡° ✮ The Fall

It was like falling off a cliff. A slow, steady fall and then the blinding crash. But in reality, a fall would’ve hurt less. Less than this.

⋆｡° ✮ Close ain’t close enough

Even though your relationship was still fairly new, you couldn’t stop overthinking how certain things could even work out, between a human and a Na‘vi.

⋆｡° ✮ Want, get, have.

Lo‘ak takes advantage of the little crush he knows the olo’eyktan’s spoiled daughter habors for him. That is, until you finally decide to get payback for all his teasing.

⋆｡° ✮ Addicted to you

The first time it happened, could be considered an accident. He didn’t mean to come over and steal your underwear, stuff it in his tweng and take it with him, like a dirty little secret. The second time however, was less an accident and more a strategic planned theft.

⋆｡° ✮ Drabbles:

Sub!Lo‘ak

Edging Sub!Lo‘ak

Edging till he’s crying

He makes you sit on his face

Free use kink

— ❝ The most dangerous thing about pandora is that you may grow to love her too much. ❞

⋆｡° ✮ Polar opposite

(featuring Tonowari) There’s no plot. Just two dilfs working together.

⋆｡° ✮ Stress relief

(featuring Tonowari) After a whole day spent on an unsuccessful hunt, the two olo’eyktan’s return to their home frustrated and stressed. But thankfully, their favorite little stress relief toy is already happily waiting for them.

⋆｡° ✮ Double trouble

(featuring Miles Quaritch) The Colonel had send you on a mission to get information out of Jake Sully, but things take a different turn than what you were expecting. Not that you mind.

⋆｡° ✮ Pent up and stressed out

Jake knows just the way to help you relief some of that pent up frustration.

⋆｡° ✮ Drabbles:

Jake makes some interesting discoveries about his new avatar body

Tits or ass?

Jake fucking loves your boobs. He loves fucking them too

Marking you as his

— ❝ I’ll be nice once. Then I won’t. ❞

⋆｡° ✮ Sinner and saint

Quaritch has captured you, the oldest daughter of Jake Sully, and made it his personal goal to draw every bit of useful information out of you.

⋆｡° ✮ Listen to me

The cute newbie of his squad enjoys late night activities way too much, keeping Miles up every single night since she moved into the quarters next to his room.

⋆｡° ✮ Helping hands

Quaritch has to escort one of the most annoying scientists he’s ever met, into the depth of pandoras forest, just so she can study some weird looking plants. Surely, it couldn’t get worse than that, right?

⋆｡° ✮ Double trouble

(featuring Jake Sully) The Colonel had send you on a mission to get information out of Jake Sully, but things take a different turn than what you were expecting. Not that you mind.

⋆｡° ✮ Sweet like cherry (mini series)

Miles has a secret admirer and apparently, she has a thing for photography.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6

⋆｡° ✮ Classified briefing

Briefings can be so boring. Luckily, Quaritch has his favorite little lap warmer with him to make to whole thing so much more entertaining.

⋆｡° ✮ Drabbles:

Quaritch loves your ass

How does he eat pussy?

Thigh riding

Corrupting you and then turning you into his little cum dump

— ❝ If you want to live here, you have to ride. ❞

⋆｡° ✮ My dearly detested

Ao‘nung has had enough of that smart little mouth of yours.

⋆｡° ✮ Mine to tease

It’s one thing when Ao’nung bullies you. It’s a complete different thing when someone else dares to lay their hands on you.

⋆｡° ✮ Under control

(Stepbro!Ao’nung AU) Ao‘nung really thought that he could restrain himself when it came to you. But of course you had to test his self control and challenge him in the worst way possible…

⋆｡° ✮ Too close to the sun

(Featuring Neteyam) Ao’nung loved you as Icarus loved the sun- too close, too much.

⋆｡° ✮ Ruin me

Ao‘nung thinks he’s no match to any human males and could easily ruin you for all of your kind. Oh, was he wrong about that.

⋆｡° ✮ Drabbles:

He‘s a sloppy pussy eater

Mean, bratty Ao‘nun turns into a begging mess for you

— ❝ Sit down. ❞

⋆｡° ✮ Polar opposite

(featuring Jake Sully) There’s no plot. Just two dilfs working together.

⋆｡° ✮ Stress relief

(featuring Jake Sully) After a whole day spent on an unsuccessful hunt, the two olo’eyktan’s return to their home frustrated and stressed. But thankfully, their favorite little stress relief toy is already happily waiting for them.

⋆｡° ✮ Drabbles:

Cuddles & sex

Sub!Tonowari + size kink

— ❝ You can’t put babies in cryo, dipshit. ❞

⋆｡° ✮ Sharing is caring

(featuring Lo‘ak) Sometimes, all you need is a good friend who is willing to share.

⋆｡° ✮ The Na‘vi way

To walk, eat, talk and even think like a Na‘vi, that was one thing. But to dress like one? That was a whole new level of commitment just to get this job done.

— ❝ Let’s go, buttercup. ❞

⋆｡° ✮ coming soon!

Teylan:

— ❝ Tinkering with junk is easier than people. People are complicated. ❞

⋆｡° ✮ coming soon!

So‘lek:

— ❝ They were looking for you. They found me. ❞

⋆｡° ✮ Drabbles:

Forming an alliance with Neteyam

Eetu:

— ❝ Call for her! Call for your Ikran! ❞

⋆｡° ✮ coming soon!

Songs That Sound Like Sea-Foam (I)

AU MASTERLIST || PART II

PAIRING: Fisherman!John Price x F!Mermaid!Reader

WORD COUNT: 6.2k

WARNINGS: Fluff, mentions of death, being hunted, vulgar language, price in a tunic (yes this is a warning by itself), awkwardness, nakedness, suggestive (?), implied age gap, etc.

A/N: I'm feral over this AU, ong. A million kisses to the Anon that brought this to my attention-btw this is definitely becoming a mini-series.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Your family told you to never go beyond the deep waterways of the cove, never to brave the open sea. Times were changing. The Harpies, when they weren't as shrewd about their feathers getting wet, would fly down from their tall mountain spires and tell stories—ones about the hunting ships. 

They’d seen them, they said as your family listened on in horror from the rocks, dragging all manner of Merfolk up from the waters in large nets made of iron and hard steel. Spears that tore scales to take for profit. In other instances, the unlucky individuals were even sold to royalty to become showpieces in displays of high wealth and standing. 

But it wasn’t just Merfolk. It was all manner of mystical beast and being. Hunted. Sold. Humans, your parents had told you, were not friends. They were greedy and selfish; more than often cruel. 

And so they started to do the same unto them. Your family would lure them with their voices to the ends of the great ships that were brought close to your cove—watch as they hurled themselves from the sides into the grasp of the ruthless waves. They did it for you, they explained. To try and keep you safe. 

For years they did this until they were gone too. 

Suddenly the cove seemed more like a prison than a safe spot, and the Harpies no longer came to converse or tell news. Killed or taken you had no idea, but it was becoming fairly obvious that even interactions with your own people were impossible. Were you the only mermaid left? It was a good question to ask and one that you could never answer. All that you knew was that you had been alone for a very long time. 

That was, before you first laid eyes on the fisherman. 

You watch him now, yet again, from behind the sharp jutting body of the rocks; the water delicately bobs you up and down as your vibrant tail hangs limp in its otherworldly throes. Eyes softly wide and mouth parted in wonder. 

He’s walking along the deck of a small ship—not the large and intimidating ones of the other men that sail the seas—with a strong form. A hat on top of his head of brown hair and a well-trimmed beard of the same color made him look gruff in appearance. 

Your hands shift over the sharp black stone, and the nakedness of your top is covered by the long strands of your wet, uncut, hair. This man wore a plain white tunic and brown pants stuffed into large boots. Even as far as you were, you heard the soft whistled tune dancing in the shell of your ears. Delicate eyes watch, head slowly peeking out more and more. 

He was tending to the nets he had on the bow and as you studied him you were mystified. 

“Fascinating,” you whisper, unknown emotions swirling in you. 

His muscles strain, large and expansive shoulders lead down to a tapered waist; legs that you blink at before glancing at your tail under the rippling water. There’s a large grunt before the fisherman’s net is thrown in a beautiful arc, hitting the water with a slap and a spray of liquid as it begins to sink. Startled, you flinch back, gasping loudly.

With a racing heart, you quietly scold yourself for the childish reaction, flicking your tail in annoyance. Slowly but surely, your head peaks back out with water dripping down the flesh of your shoulders. 

But when you shift back into the open, you find a deep set of stormy blue eyes digging into your field of view. You freeze, seeing his lids go back in surprise and shock as your jaw slackens. A cold fear enters your veins at the new attention brought to you but you find yourself unable to look away. 

The Fisherman is the picture of utter stillness, just as you are, like twin mountains of ancient stone. Your nervousness only seems to grow as he doesn’t do anything—teachings and lessons about those who walk on two legs and sail in ships poking holes into your mind. 

Gawking and spying were one thing…but being seen meant death. You swallow stiffly and go tense, shifting to half-hide behind your rock. 

“Oh, no,” your mouth murmurs, self-hatred and fear lining the tone. “Oh, no, no, no.”

And yet the Fisherman had not moved, nor made any attempt to pull his sinking net back into his boat. Fish panic in the rope grave they’ve been ensnared in. His eyes….why are they so curiously locked on you?

You spare one last glance before shoving away from the rock and disappearing under the water with a violent splash; making off for the deep underwater caves that offer salvation. 

When you’re down there—in the darkness with only silent ripples of light to guide your eyes—you find it hard to stop thinking about the Fisherman and his strong jaw. His genuine awe at the sight of you. 

Had he not heard the stories of the Merfolk of this region? Or…or were you truly the last of your kind? 

The thought troubles you, and, riddled with anxiety, you go over to your store of shiny trinkets that you’d collected over the years; grabbing them in your hands and fiddling with them to try to put your mind at ease. The walls of the caves bare down on you and you hope you’d not just signed over your own death warrant. 

Maybe he’ll go away, you offer yourself, face tight and tail curled close, maybe he’ll be afraid and won’t come back. 

It was a pointless belief. They always come back—driven by greed or a righteous authority. Humans were cruel. 

But your brain goes back to stormy blue eyes like pebbles and softly parted lips. Orbs glinting with wonder and shock. No attempt to shout or grab for the large knife you’d seen strapped to his belt. 

A fisherman, you told yourself, who hesitated to go after the biggest fish of them all. 

You didn’t quite know if that made you more afraid or more intrigued. 

—

It was only after you’d spent three weeks in the underwater caves of the cove that you’d finally decided the coast was clear. You’d cautiously gone back through the winding seaweed and schools of marine life to hide in your little rock fort; afraid but brave. From under the waves in the calm of the water you’d scanned the surface for the shadows of a boat, anything to indicate that the man had returned. 

Nothing. 

Tension leaves your shoulders and you travel upwards, vibrant scales shimmering like jewels. You were quite close to the mainland, you would say, back to the shore to look out over the open entrance to your home. At the first sign of danger, the rocks would be your first point of shelter if you wished to remain hidden but continue to watch.

Ears popping as your head surfaces, you only look out with the water swaying below your eyes; nose and chin hidden. Sand from behind you shifts.

“Knew I’d seen something, then, eh?” Your heart lurches—brain flashing to hooks and nets; you shove yourself back under the water with a garbled gasp.

Fish around your form dash away as you frantically look back at the surface, your scales shining as the light hits them. Fingers tense in the water, you shift your body so that your form has its back to the floor of the cove and breathe quickly in your own mermadian way with shaking fins. 

On the very edge of the shore, you see the shadow of a sitting body in the sand. He hadn’t moved, this Fisherman. Was waiting as inanimate as an empty shell.

What had he said? You ask yourself, hair disturbed by the flow of the waves above your head. A gentle back and forth. After a moment of contemplation, the large muscle in your breast slows itself and a nervous curiosity grows.

Yet still, the shadow stays completely motionless beside the occasional itch and brush as facial hair. Waiting. 

Waiting to attack, your hand twitches in the water and you flutter your tail to take you closer to the open air, or waiting to see me?

Taking what you can describe as a deep breath, the top of your head once more breaks the top of the water; lashes dripping salty tear-drops as you blink away the sting. Every part of you is ready to disappear once more if things go south. 

And then you lock eyes once more. 

The Fisherman sits in the sand with his boots pushing up the granules—his right hand rests over his bent knee while the other keeps him up in a relaxed position from behind his back. You stare, the sun reflected in your eyes with a small glinting and hair in your vision. A foreign heat builds in your face when the man’s head tilts; tiny eyes narrowing as if he’d just proven a point to himself. 

Why doesn’t he seem surprised?

There’s a moment of a smirk that slashes his hidden lips but it’s gone in a fraction of a second. His mustache moves as he speaks and your face slightly bobs lower instinctually. The Fisherman doesn't seem hostile—he has a kind of stern comfort to him. 

Stubborn gruffness. And his accent only amplifies that fact.

 “Well, wasn’t expecting to find you here,” his chest rumbles with his words. You find you quite like the sound of it. Shells grinding against each other and pearls that clatter in palms. Your eyes widen with innocence. The Fisherman clears his throat, still watching carefully as the water sloshes over his boots. “Else I would have stayed clear when I still could.” 

Your hands tread water around you, tail flickering in small movements. 

The man's gaze darts down to stare as well as he could through the ripples. 

“Bloody Christ,” he murmurs to himself, returning your eyes once more, “thought you were all mostly extinct. Fuckin’ hell.”

“Extinct?” Your lips flinch, chin caressing the waves as brows pull up. The Fisherman blinks as if surprised to hear you speak. To be honest, you were half afraid you couldn’t either—how long had it been since you’d had a conversation above water? You spent most of your time passing comments to rare traveling Hippocampus and Sea Serpents.

Not that they could respond, of course.

By now your face had entirely left the water, that word startling you. Your chest tightens.

“What do you mean,” you ask the older man, this strange Fisherman who was shifting his weight in the sand, “extinct?” 

Dark brows furrow and his back slightly straightens itself. 

“You aren't exactly what I’d be calling common, Love. No one’s seen one of your kind in years.” Your face stills. 

“Years?” Head angling itself down, you stare at your reflection in growing fear. 

The Fisherman makes a move to stand, and you dart back swiftly. A pale hand is held in the air as if to sedate you.

“Easy, now.” It’s said softly, a grunt stuck at the beginning. A small moment passes before the man fully stands up, dressed similarly to when you’d seen him before. 

Top, pants, hat. There’s also a flash of metal around his neck, some piece of jewelry hidden on the chain under the layer of his thin, flowy, tunic. Hands go to cross over his chest in a display of muscle gained from a long time of hard work.

You nervously plead for an explanation, “B-but that…that doesn’t make any sense! I’m not the only one left!”

“No,” the Fisherman slowly states, taking off the hat from his head and delicately placing it on the ground. “No, you’re not the last.” 

His eyes dart along your visible body, trying to catch a glimpse of that tail that was in all stories about your kind. 

“Your name, Ma’am,” he asks, blue returning to your own sights, “what is it.”

“Well, what’s yours?” You counter, getting snappy in your anxiousness. “You come into my home and expect me to answer to you? And where’s your fishing boat anyways—unless a male Selkie has suddenly managed to brave the deep sea?” 

Perhaps it had been a trick of the light, but you had sworn the Fisherman had smiled at you; it was a swift slash of something that pulled his mustache back and wrinkled his face. An amused thing it was. A sort of tiny tease, in its own right.

Your heart beats steadily at the sight, eyes watching. 

“Well, I suppose you’re right, then.” He scratches at his beard with one hand, still studying you with a tilt of his head. As if weighing what he should tell you. There was an air of intrigue but that did nothing to hide the hesitance. “I docked my boat in the sea cave, thought it would do more harm than good to leave it in the open. If you’d seen it, you wouldn’t have shown, eh?” The Fisherman points and you look to the deep indent in the mountainside, the tiny ship visible as it stays stationary. You blink at it slowly. 

“And you can call me whatever it is you like, I don’t bloody care, but I’m not inclined to tell one of the Merfolk my name—I may have come ‘ere, but I’m not fuckin’ daft, now.”

It was true, what he spoke of. Names to your people have a stark and violent purpose. To know one's name is to own a piece of that person’s soul. Songs gain more power, words grow into orders followed without thought. Not that it was your intention.

You glower, brows pulling in. 

“A simple fisherman does well to know that it’s rude to speak ill like such in another’s home.” The man smirks, cheeks rising. 

“Simple, am I?” The already expansive build of his shoulders widens as he leans back on his heels, water sloshing at his boots. His eyes glimmer like lighting with humor. The look makes your cheeks burn with warmth, throat swallowing saliva.

“Why are you here?” You avoid the question, treading water and letting your tail drift. Willing the water to cool your senses. It was obvious that this man wasn’t a hunter—foolish, perhaps, but no hunter.

Or maybe just confidently brave. 

The Fisherman hums under his breath, grunting in the way you’d already come to associate with him. Rugged fellow, really. Weathered like a pile of old rope but still handsome, the sinews under the stain of dirt pure of color. You found yourself, however apprehensive, enjoying the squareness of his face; how the brunette’s hair would sweep in the warm breeze. 

He was attractive.

“Fishing, Ma’am.” A broad sweep of one of his hands, “You have a proper cove. Plenty of places to cast.” 

Your tight arms somewhat loosen. 

“Just fishing?” Your voice darkens. “Then why is it you’re here on shore and not doing just that.” Tail flickering, it lightly brings you back from him, eyes always darting away to stare into the background of his form—at the dark shadows of trees behind the dark rocks. At the open mouth of the cove in case of extra ships. 

If what he told you earlier was true, you were in danger just by living. 

Extinct? Not seen in years? No, that can’t be right. A deep knot forms in your stomach.

“I may be human, Ma’am, but I believe myself to be above intrusion.” The Fisherman splays his hands by his waist and shifts his thighs. He seems serious again, like a wave going forward and back he seemed to always revert to a crafted visage of firm resolve. “This is your home, and I’m asking to ferry my boat here when able. Nothing else.” 

You blink in surprise, brows pulling back. 

He was…asking you? 

“I…own the cove no more than the Manticore owns the desert,” your voice stutters, oddly touched by his sincerity. You pause and push yourself farther above a wave. This large man didn’t seem cruel to you. “I have no claim on the waters—they have been here longer than I. Do as you wish.” 

While that should have been the end of it, you found his blue eyes continuing to watch you, head tilted like a shaggy dog. Thinking deeply with a slight parting of his lips and rising to his lids. 

At the intensity of his silent wonder, your head goes light. Had you said something strange? No, it was just the truth. Then…why was this man’s face going to a modest pink shade? Why were his eyes darting away from yours and his feet shifting? 

You narrow at him before he speaks, clearing his throat and crossing his arms.

“Alright,” the Fisherman mutters, chest rumbling. 

A silence falls where your ears twitch to the lapping of the sea-foam and the feeling of blood in your veins which mirrors such movements. As you saw him do to you, your vision falls to the man’s body; looking across the tapering of his waist and the rolled sleeves of his tunic—showing off years of muscle 

“I don’t suppose…” Your tail flinches from the sudden noise from the brunette, expecting him to swim over to his boat and get to his business. You stare and listen, and for the first time, you believe a mermaid has been entranced by another's voice. “That I’ll have the pleasure of seeing you again?”

The Fisherman speaks slowly, hands shifting on his biceps; thighs tense and settle. You allow the waves to connect and slide around your body and a feeling reminiscent of warm rocks in the sun grows in your heart. 

Strange, this man. This serious-faced Fisherman who asks one of the Merfolk for permission over the waters we don’t control. You tilt your head to teasingly mirror the brunettes. He humphs in his throat at your action. I enjoy him. 

At the first sign of danger you’d leave—but for now…talking felt good.

“Perhaps,” you say, lips twitching into a smile. “Would this nameless Fisherman enjoy the company of a mermaid? Not many would say yes.”

“I think you’ll find I’m not like those many, then, yeah?” He smiles, a small twitch of his lips. You begin backing up, getting to deeper water while maintaining eye contact. “I don’t care what you are, just that we have an agreement.”

“Very well,” your neck dips under the waves, tail momentarily peaking above the surface. Blue flickers to it, shoulders lowering in hidden awe. The Fisherman’s lungs still. 

He hears your giggle before you dive under, disappearing swiftly down to your caves with a splash. 

It’s a long while before the brunette picks up his hat and begins walking the length of the shore—strong steps taking him back to his ship with a tiny smile brightening his ruggedly handsome face. 

He runs a hand over his chin and chuckles.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

—

You perch on the side of the Fisherman’s boat, golden comb in your grip as you run it over and over through your locks. Tangles and knots are rendered useless to the fine and beautiful make of the object, the handle covered in small barnacles and seaweed. A nice breeze wafts in the air, and behind you, the padding of feet goes across the deck. With the sliding of nets and a small whistling from the Fisherman, you feel your tail gently sway from side to side; the bottom under the water whose waves rise and lower the vessel. 

It had been a week since your first meeting and you had become more relaxed about this man’s presence. He had been truthful—every day he would come and fish. 

At first, you’d watch from the black rocks, sitting atop them and studying. More than once you’d see the brunette raise a hand in greeting when his boat had entered the cove; an acknowledgment that you were there and nothing more. No expectation for you to come over or speak to him. 

Day after day you’d see the net being thrown from the side only to be reeled back by large arms, legs apart and firm to the deck. 

On day four, you swam over and grappled onto the side of the ship, curious. Before you could even realize he instantly knew you were there—despite his back being to you—the Fisherman spoke in a cheeky tone.

“Come up, then, if you’re that interested. No use watching from the water.” So you had, with a bit more fire to your cheeks than you thought mermaids could handle.

Now it was routine. The human man would pull into the cove and you would sit on the side of his fishing boat, doing whatever you wished as he worked. 

You pull your comb through the ends of your hair, placing it down after and closing your eyes before your hands grab the shiny strands, twisting them. Under your breath, you hum in tune with the Fisherman’s whistled song; the notes like a growing symphony in your head. 

Song to Merfolk is sacred and revered—everything sings, in its own right, and deserves careful crafting to fully understand. 

“You seem to enjoy that,” you startle to a stop, eyes popping open. Sharply looking over your shoulder, you pause your hands. Staring, the man has completely stopped his work; nets at his feet with slapping fish of all colors stuck in the rope’s limp weavings. 

He squints at your confused face.

“Rhythm.” 

“Oh,” you offer a smile and watch him look away only to kneel down and begin separating his quarry. “If you’re worried I’ll sing around you, think nothing of it—I know what that could cause.” 

The Fisherman hums, amused at you, “I’m not. I was complimenting you,” the knife at his belt glints in the light. “You have a pretty voice, Love.” 

You shyly watch him, hair partly covering your visage, and catch a glimpse once more at the necklace he seems to always wear. Silver and shiny but still hidden. 

“If you knew about my species, you wouldn’t be saying that.” Explaining lowly, the man grunts, sending a look your way as he tosses a Cod farther up the deck—you watch it flop around for a moment. 

“Well,” the Fisherman explains, hands pausing and body leaning closer as one of his knees connects to the wood. It’s a teasing whisper that slides into your drum, and you find yourself nearly shivering from it. Blue eyes twinkle with mischief. “I did. No worries, I’ll never tell.”

A deep chuckle joins a lighter one, and your tail shimmers in the open light; scales vibrant and rich-looking. From what the brunette can see on the deck—the smaller plates that extend all the way up your navel to stop at your belly button—you know he stares at them. 

Not a greedy, evil, stare…just one of hidden admiration. It was of no surprise to you that he found it beautifully uncanny.

You have no idea how to read this Fisherman; have no idea what he wants. You think he doesn’t want anything. On your face, a strange calm settles. 

“Tell me, Fisherman,” his gaze snaps from your scales to your face, momentarily stopping at the dip of your neck as you turn as fully to him as you’re able from your perch. Your hand rests at your side; spine twisted halfway. “Who are you? No, I don’t mean your name. I want your person. You don’t act afraid of me—of what I am.” He stays kneeling and lets the net rest for now, his heart beating steadily in his breast. “There is more to you than a human at sea, surely.” 

Your words are not accusatory, they lacked any sort of confrontation. Curiosity, though, like enclosed treasure, was stuck behind your tongue. He surprises you by standing and beginning to walk over, boots thumping. 

As he nears, he sits down with a huff on the edge, right next to you. 

There’s a moment when you both stare into each other's eyes as you feel the world shift. Blinking up at him, at the closer range you take into account the ancientness of his eyes and how it seemed, for such an alone man, it was making him look far older than he was. Still older than you, yes, but the sentiment still stands.

With his hat having been retired not five minutes earlier onto one of the many ship’s barren tops, you saw the streaks of sun-bleached strands in his brown hair. You unconsciously reach for your comb but stay your fingers as they flinch over the gold.

Storm-blue carefully glances away before coming back to you. 

“Not much to know, Love,” the Fisherman’s brow raises, “you understand?” 

“No,” you say, honestly, head tilting at him. He looks surprised, breath hitching. 

“It’s just…there’s not much to tell, Sweetheart.”

Humans are strange creatures.

Not knowing this word game, you take your hand away from the comb and bring it to his chest, slipping under the neck of his tunic to grasp at the necklace he always wears. A hand snaps to your wrist almost immediately—a startling speed that makes you flinch. 

Above your heads, seagulls squawk at you, but all you can gaze into are those pure blue orbs. They trap you, drag you down far faster than a whirlpool into the briny depths of hypnotic appeasement. 

Perhaps you were naive to the magical whims of males that walk on two feet.

The Fisherman’s jaw clenches, eyes tightly narrowed at you in hesitance and veiled threat. You blink at him softly, not doing anything besides twitching your fingers and widening your sight. Before long, his hold loosens but doesn’t leave, allowing you on whatever it was you were doing yet still touching your damp flesh.

Lips parting, you don’t make a fuss. Instead, you hum under your breath and allow his calluses to scrape you. The toughness becomes a stark contrast to your own make-up. 

Feels nice.  

Your digits peel out the article of jewelry and you shift closer to look; bare chest brushing against his. You can feel his pulse through the brunette’s tunic, the way his throat shifts in a tense swallow of nothing. 

The necklace held two pieces of small, round, silver and said the following. 

“Jonathan Price, Captain, 141st company under the King.”

As you read, your tail gradually begins brushing his leg in its swaying. Through it all, the large Fisherman only slants his chin down and watches, breathing half through his mouth and half through his nose. You hear his throat clear; feel his grip squeeze your wrist. 

It is a small and taken-aback kind of noise. He doesn’t move his hand.

You are happy he doesn’t. 

“You’re a…Captain?” Asking, you look up shocked and aren’t taken aback by how close your face was to his. Even if your cheeks begin to burn at the beard bristles itching your nose. 

“...Yes,” breathe puffs over the lower half of your face. Your fingers detangle from the Fisherman’s necklace and let it thump to his chest. “I was. Left.” 

Blinking, you whisper, steadily, “What’s a…Captain…?” 

A small sound is made in the back of his throat and he releases your wrist and pulls back before a loud bark of a laugh jerks his chest. You stare in innocent confusion, hair falling over your shoulders.

“What?” Gripping his mouth, Jonathan Price grounds himself by gripping his thigh as he chuckles.

“No, no,” he takes a deep breath and releases his face, smoothing down his beard quickly with amusement stuck in his smile. “Bloody hell, it’s nothing. Nothing at all, Love.”

He sends you a warm side glance and you huff, moving back and picking up your comb, getting back to brushing your locks again. You are acutely aware that you now know the Fisherman’s name, but refrain from saying anything until he does. Now you know why he reacted in such a way.

Your tail twitches in the water as fish brush past it and the brunette begins with a soft look. 

“I was in charge of a small group of men—we had a ship. Far larger than this old girl,” he pats the deck, and you slow your motion to show that you are listening, intrigued. “We did what was needed of us, but there was a thin line that needed to be drawn to keep every bastard sane.” 

Blue meets your eyes and the man’s expression darkens. Your fingers twitch as the breeze ravages his hair, chest tightening. 

“And yours?” You ask softly, entranced and open, “What was your line, Captain Price?” 

He hums after a small silence, sighing deeply. Along the hull of the boat, the waves rock the vessel gently side to side, and your mythical attention seems to entrap him far better than your voice could. His face loses that dark edge, well-trimmed beard relaxes as his jaw does. 

The past it seems, looms over him like a tsunami.

Reaching up a slow hand, his fingers brush the tendrils of hair that had slipped out of your hold and were dangling in front of your face; the Fisherman blinks and pushes them back behind your ear. By now your brush had long stopped and your breath was held in your chest. For the first time in your life, you think you feel yourself shiver at the delicate scrape of his skin on yours.

“John,” he mutters, and you suck down a shallow breath as he watches you like you were an idol of the Gods, “Just John.” 

Your smile leaves his fingers pressing deeper into your scalp and, perhaps a bit naively, you welcome him to you like a bird to the sky. You liked his gruffness—his beard and his face. The lines on his forehead that you could imagine tracing as if they belonged on a map instead of the squareness of this Fisherman’s profile. Tiny sockets that hold sapphire stones.

“Maybe I left because I couldn’t stand seeing such beautiful creatures being put to the hook, eh?” Your eyes widen, tiny gasp leaving your lips. 

Merfolk swooned with flattery, truth be told. They enjoy being doted on and praised; given gifts of both words and objects. You were no different. 

Oh…did he call me beautiful?

John smirks at your reaction, taking his hand off of you and standing with a low chuckle. Your tail flutters at the sudden absence, head following after him as he walks back to his net with a sway in his step. You blink in astonishment. 

“You’re a strange human, John,” calling to him, you grimace at the blatant disappointment in your bones at the lack of his skin on yours. At his humored hum, you sense your growing attraction to the grind of his vocal cords. His voice. “I don’t know what to think of you.”

“Then think nothing of me,” he explains easily, casually, re-gathering his nets in his toned arms. You try not to let your jaw slacken at the bulge under his tunic when he carries them. “I’m not offended by it, Love.” A sly look, “Do as you wish.” 

Your tail twitches so violently you’re afraid you might break the side of the ship. 

And so this strange dance between the two of you continued well into the longer months—John would come in his ship nearly every day and you would join him on the side of the deck. Sometimes you would hum for him and he would whistle a tune back, others there were long bouts of conversation about the ways of humans and beasts. John told you that the King had ordered the total extinction of all manner of ‘strange and unordinary’ creatures to secure his line safely to the throne. 

When he had explained it, the mad had gone red with anger.

“Fuckin’ muppet,” he’d spit, fiddling with his knife as you watched a small distance away, playing with his silver necklace in your hands. You twiddled it around and liked how it shimmered like your scales did in the light. “Bloody thought I would just go along with the deaths of innocent beings. He had no facts—no proof to back up his claim. I’ve done things. Horrible things,” John explained to you, sending you a stiff look, “but I’ve not forsaken my damn mind to reality. Takin’ the piss.” 

Muttering the last sentence to himself, you had felt your lips curve into a smile. “You have a proper conscience, John, done bad or not.” 

“Yeah, well, Sweetheart, I’ll be done in soon enough.” You only stared with care-drowned eyes and caressed his necklace. When he had seen this, his body had deflated with an exasperated grunt. 

You shared a chuckle and he got back to work; feeling his melting gaze drawn back to you every so often. 

Later, yet again, you found your form on his boat, this time with his hands across the small of your back as you studied the blade of his knife.

“Careful, now. Don’t run your finger along the edge.” His free grip points to the sharp side—breath fanning your ear. You feel your throat tighten and nod, caressing a thumb on the leather handle. 

John’s hand is hard on your bare skin and you sense his heat drilling past your veins into the very marrow of your bones. You unconsciously sigh when his fingers slide slightly higher, traveling the length of your spine; his scars catching on every knob of bone. Your exploration stills and your pupils widen. 

His breath is on your neck, nose tilting as his jaw does just above the meat of your shoulder. 

“Why’d you stop?” You stare off into the metal, lashes fluttering when his fingers finally curve at the swell of your neck. Lips drag on your flesh before a deep grumble of affection stems from John’s chest as he kisses your rapid pulse. “Distracted? Hm.” 

“It’s,” you breathe out, scales reflecting light as your lower body shifts on the wood. His opposite hand circles your waist, drawing your back to his chest. Skin burns and thoughts go to liquid as you feel his roving muscle. “It’s g-good. Pretty—” 

Words fail you as his lips continue to slowly travel.

“Could say the same,” John grunts; beard scraping down your flesh. 

Your eyes flutter, head tilting to give more room at the same time you whisper out, violently shivering at the compliment, “John…” 

“What is it?” The grip moves to run over your scales, right where your upper hips would be; the sensation of him caressing you with gentle, deep, rubs of his thumb was all it took for you to give in completely to him. “Go on, Love, speak.” 

You take a breath and feel his heart beating steady along your back—the texture of his tunic. “What…are you doing?” 

John moves your hair and places open-mouthed kisses on the back of your neck. He breathes in your scent and you turn your light head to stare unabashedly at his flushed face. Your tail sways, limp, over the side of the boat. 

Blown pupils hide that sea-storm blue like a lock and key to dangerous thoughts and attraction. 

In answer, his eyes flicker down to your lips hungrily and your gaze widens; a small sound in the base of your throat. 

“You’re somethin’ beautiful, y’know that?” He says and you let him lean in closer to your face, eyes threatening to close when you take in the musk of human flesh and sweat. Rope and wood oil. John’s words make you shiver again, hairs standing on end—responding to that deep growl with a roaring in your ears. 

You shouldn’t be enjoying this. Shouldn’t be enjoying his lips or his tight grip; his…his rough, large, hands that encapsulate your body and drown you. It terrifies you, this heart-stopping magnetism. You can’t get enough of him.

John presses his firm lips to yours, groaning into the connection as you sigh and part your mouth. Fingers shaking, you twist and place your hands on his chest, gasping mutely as his teeth nip into your lower lip and pull back before pushing back forward. Sparks of subdued pain mix with pleasurable agony at the scrape of his beard hair.

 “Every inch of you…” John’s grip captures you closer, hands ensnaring you against his chest like deeply intertwined strands of fabric, squeezing as he licks his upper lip. He catches his breath shallowly. Blue eyes burn through you. “...is fucking perfection.”  

You grab at his necklace and drag him back in, feeling him not waste a single moment to grip the back of your head and keep you trapped to him, tongues slipping out of mouths to tangle together like seaweed. Perhaps it was foolish, but a part of you knew that this Captain, this strange Fisherman—this Johnathan Price—was the only man or being on this planet, land or sea, who could make you feel like you could walk and fly all at once. 

When he lifts you in his arms and drops you in his lap as if your body weighed as much as a pebble, you knew you’d brave the open ocean for this man in an instant. His arm drips with water as it slips under the joint of your tail; where your knees would be if you had them, and you whine into his mouth at the slip of his fingers. 

Intoxicated, drunk off of his scent and his pressure. 

A dangerous mix of two different lives. 

It couldn’t last.

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