Pairings: Francis Crozier x Reader, John Franklin x Reader, James Fitzjames x Reader, Henry Goodsir x Reader
Warnings: nsft, silly stuff, mentions of k*nks
a/n: gender neutral reader!!!
clearly i’m the only person carrying the terror (both the show and the ship) from death. no one writes fanfics for the REAL hoes (us, the readers). but dw. god put me on the terror so the true, grimy mfs can finally be unleashed and be free 🗣️‼️send in any requests you have for the terror while they're still in my grasp 😼
i love gnawing on these men like my own personal chew toys GRRRR BARK BARK 🐕
Francis Crozier:
Cowgirl.
Old man doesn’t have much energy in him, we know this.
At first he’ll have his hands on your hips as you ride him, but within a few minutes his head is thrown back, eyes shut as he lets out strings of curses.
If Francis is drunk and had a particularly hard day, he would be inebriated and inclined enough to use you as a urinal--whether that’s in your mouth or on your body, is up to you. He’s probably too drunk to notice, but he’s aware enough to get hard and want to stick it in you.
Might dabble in the whole Daddy kink, but you’ll be the one bringing it up to him--or rather, it might’ve slipped out when you were drunk on him one night. It invigorates him, makes him feel like he’s finally in charge of something. He won’t pound into you, but his grip on your skin would be tighter, he would probably grunt in your ear and praise you like an actual father would. sobs
Old man knocks out after he comes. After care is him lying heavy on your body as he’s fast asleep. When he wakes up--possibly in horror and excitement--he’ll rush to clean up and prepare a sweet breakfast filled with bashful apologies for his behavior the night before behavior that will repeat.
John Franklin:
Religious man. But what a fucking freak.
I don’t need to tell you that he’s into that Daddy shit. Ofc he is.
Really into roleplay too. Some nights, you’ll pretend to be the demon that corrupts the Virtuous Saint™ that he is, other nights he’ll be your priest “cleansing” you of your sins.
Depending on the roleplay, you might end up on top of him, beneath him, or on your knees.
John usually ends the night in missionary, he wants to watch your eyes overcome with your own lust, how your face screws as you come around his own cock, the way your chest exhales its last breath as you fall completely still.
A sweet kiss on your forehead--”You’re so good to me.”
James Fitzjames:
A Fucking Freak™.
He’s in his physical prime, of course he’s getting freaky with you.
Angry sex, yearning sex, passionate sex, quickies; whatever he can have he’ll take, and then he’ll beg for some more.
His best ideas actually come from his time shared with you--unfortunately for you, as his mind snaps from passion and comes to the fruition of something that would save the crew, but you can’t be mad at him for too long.
Every position is his favorite position. In the beginning, he won’t care for the sentimentality of it since you both were chasing after a release, but as the relationship progresses and the meetings become frequent, he might opt for a sweet night instead of the usual 5-minute quickie.
He likes you, like, like like, but he bites his tongue and bates his breath waiting for the moment to let you know when you both finally make it to the other side of this thing. He doesn’t want to confess and leave you haunted with the love of a dead man. He doesn’t know that you’d rather wrap yourself in the warmth of a past confession than agonize over what could’ve been.
Henry Goodsir:
Sex to him is a very sacred and intimate act--more emotional to him than anyone else. His heart is a melting pot, everything you do makes his head spin. It would be a while before the two of you ever see each other naked. But when you finally reach that point…oh brother, get ready for those love letters 🙄 /lh
You probably are his first. Most likely his last. I don’t think he’ll ever get over you, especially not if you reciprocated the intensity and fullness of his love. He is permanently marked by you, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
I don’t think any man could ever love you the way Henry loves you. No one will ever love you the way he does--both a comfort, and a tragedy.
Missionary. Always. He just wants to look in your eyes--both as a reassurance that you want this, but also as a confirmation that you do actually love him, that your connection is real and not some made-up fantasy in his mind used to cope.
You will forever be a work of art to him. He handles you with such care and warmth--he won’t treat you like a fragile piece of glass, but rather an oil painting as he grazes his fingers across your skin, picking up on the traces of paint left on the tips of his fingers.
Flesh pressed against flesh, he wants nothing more than to entangle himself with you-- to merge his body into yours, to be a piece of you forever, but doesn’t want to seem as “too much”, so he keeps these thoughts to himself and in his journal.
a/n: i hope you enjoyed! if you did, please consider reblogging since it helps my account! :)
DON'T BE A GHOST READER!!!! i would love to hear your thoughts and opinions, and comments are what keep writers going <3
finished this lil altered screencap redraw while at work today :D added a little color and features matching jamie’s physical showings of scurvy
this scene has always stuck with me. not only is it a breaking point of his “mask” (perfection/pride/identity/what say you) and his true realization of his health, but the imagery of blood dripping onto the feminine masque after the scene of him holding up a dress to himself and smiling…. oh dave k how i love you. jamie fitzjames you will forever be special.
