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kingofbodyrolls · 6 months ago

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Till We Meet Again (m) | jjk

When your childhood friend that you had a crush on, moved away out of the blue— you never thought you’d see him again. A night swim in the ocean will have you feeling delusional, but the voice that fills your ears— sweet like cotton candy, you’d recognize that voice anywhere, it’s Jungkook.

→ Pairing: jungkook x reader (female) → AUs: mermaid!au, fantasy!au, magical!au → Trope: childhood friends to lovers → Genres: romcom, smut, nostalgia, and so much fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 11.4k → Warnings (general) + triggers: Jungkook’s first time (he is not a virgin lol, but it’s his first time with a human, so), this one is actually pretty mild, bordering on vanilla. There’s talk about how merfolk do it 👀 This is just crack fantasy okay, please don’t take it seriously! There’s some small pov changes in here, because, well, it just happened, lol. → Warnings (explicit): protected sex, oral (both male and female), hair pulling, multiple orgasms, nipple play/sucking, a little bit of dirty talk, begging, pleasing. → Taglist: @allie-is-a-panda @jeonsbabygirlsworld → Read on AO3! → Author’s note: happy birthday to my sweet and lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7) 🥳 I wrote this story for you as a present. I know you’re not that much into fantasy, but when I told you about my mermaid ideas, you were excited 🤭 So this first one is for you bby ✨ I really hope you like it, also that everyone else does!

[s.masterlist] → this is part of a collection of series that are stand-alone one-shots, but all of them are set in the same universe. They are slightly connected though 🤭

The rain begins to pour as Jungkook grips your hand, his touch both delicate and powerful, guiding you through the sudden downpour. Moments ago, you were laughing and playing at the local playground, unaware that Mother Nature was about to drench the world in her unexpected shower.

Your heart pounds in your chest and echoes in your ears as you race to keep up with Jungkook, a wide smile spreading across your face. For an eight-year-old, he’s pretty damn fast, making every step feel like a thrilling challenge.

He’s sprinting down familiar streets, and you quickly realize he’s heading towards your home. You’ve never seen his house or met his parents, but your own parents adore Jungkook, joking that he’s your future husband. You’re not thinking that far ahead—you’re just a child, after all. Yet, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a fondness for him.

Let’s be honest, you have the biggest crush on the sweet boy with the round face and big doe eyes that seem too large for his tiny head. His nose is adorable, and his teeth only add to his charm. In short, you love everything about him, even his occasional unreasonable moments. But when he pouts, sticking out his bottom lip in that irresistibly cute way, your heart completely melts.

Your house comes into view, but instead of heading inside, he veers into your backyard, leading you towards the hidden playhouse nestled among the bushes and small trees.

“Shouldn’t we get inside where it’s dry?” you ask, bewilderment etched across your face as you finally reach the playhouse. He crouches down and gently pulls you inside, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“No, we’ll be safe here,” he assures you, sitting down with his legs tucked under him. He bites his lip softly, a hint of nervousness flickering in his eyes.

“We should go inside; I don’t want either of us to catch a cold,” you mumble, settling beside him and feeling the warmth of his body next to yours. Despite not feeling chilled yet, you know it’s risky to stay out in wet clothes. It’s autumn, and although the air still holds a lingering warmth, you’re aware that it won’t last long.

“Let’s just stay here for a moment, okay?” he pleads, his eyes wide and his signature pout in full effect. You find yourself unable to resist—after all, who could say no to that adorable face?

For a few minutes, you sit there side by side, listening to the sky weep as rain patters softly on the roof of the playhouse. A few droplets sneak inside, but it hardly matters.

Jungkook suddenly turns to you, his expression unreadable— sadness flickers across his features, his normally warm brown eyes darkening to near-black in the dim light. His smile vanishes, replaced by a somberness that seems to weigh heavily on him. You can’t help but wonder what has shifted, why he’s undergone this sudden transformation in demeanor.

“___. Promise me you’ll never forget me?”

His eyes widen with earnestness, pleading like a puppy’s, and both of his hands seek yours, holding on as if afraid of being forgotten.

Emotions swirl in those hazel eyes, a tumultuous sea of feelings you struggle to decipher. You long to grasp his thoughts, to understand why he’s broaching the topic of forgetting him. But the idea is unfathomable to you; forgetting him seems as impossible as forgetting your own name.

Something shimmers in his eyes—what, you can’t quite discern. They resemble an ocean, deep and mysterious, where one could easily lose themselves if they stared for too long.

“Forget you? Kookie, what on earth are you talking about?” your eyes widen in disbelief, searching his face for any hint of understanding, but finding only confusion.

“It’s just... I like you a lot, and,” he murmurs, stumbling over his words, his hands fidgeting nervously with yours. Then, lifting his gaze to meet yours, he adds with a touch of vulnerability, “I’ll never forget you. You mean the world to me, ___. You’re my friend.”

With a warm smile and a gentle chuckle, you reply, “Duh, silly. Of course you’ll never forget me! And I’ll never forget you either. Now, can we please go inside?”

Jungkook smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as it usually does, leaving a lingering unease in the pit of your stomach. It feels like a storm is brewing within you, mirroring the turbulent weather outside.

“Just promise me. We’ll never forget each other, no matter what,” he implores, his voice firm and unwavering, his eyes reflecting the solemnity of his words.

He clasps your hand with his own, seeking out your pinky finger.

“Pinky promise?” he asks, his eyes earnest, holding onto your gaze with a mix of hope and determination.

Your eyes flicker with a rapid dance of confusion and amusement. Despite the chaos of the moment, a smile spreads across your face, its warmth seeming to dissolve his frown and alleviate his frazzled state.

“Okay. Pinky promise,” you affirm, intertwining your pinky finger with his, sealing the pact with a vow that feels as timeless as eternity.

You never laid eyes on Jungkook after that—well, you did both retreat indoors, your mother showering Jungkook with love and sweet treats he adored. But after that day, twenty long years ago, he vanished from your life out of the blue, leaving only memories behind.

Why you’re thinking about him now, you really don’t know. Yet, just as he once asked of you, you’ve never let go of his memory—a part of you still holds onto the hope that he might reappear, surprising you around some unsuspecting corner, as if he never left. But with each passing day, the likelihood of such serendipity grows fainter, like the receding tide of the deep blue ocean.

Maybe it’s the nostalgia stirred by your recent home purchase by the sea that brings back memories of your childhood crush. The vast expanse of the ocean triggers thoughts of his eyes—not because of their color, but the way they used to glimmer, reflecting the light with a sparkle that danced like sunbeams on water.

Long strolls on the beach prove therapeutic, gradually pushing thoughts of your childhood crush to the recesses of your mind. With each step along the sandy shores, you uncover treasures—seashells, smoothed by the relentless embrace of the waves, and other mementos of seaside serenity.

You truly love the beach, which is why you chose to buy a house so close to the shore. It’s not just because the ocean reminds you of a certain childhood friend you wish you could see again. His sudden departure has always baffled you—sometimes you wonder what really happened.

Was he kidnapped, or did he simply leave without a word?

Why would he vanish without telling you first, especially if he just had to move?

It’s after dinner, and you find yourself lounging on your terrace, gazing out at the ocean. The view is breathtaking, and when the wind blows just right, the salty breeze gently caresses your skin. You smile a wistful smile as you raise your glass to your lips. Today is a red wine day; despite the heat, the perfectly chilled glass complements the warmth of the evening air.

With your legs propped up on the lounge chair, reclined for maximum comfort, you gaze out at the vast expanse of the sea. You can’t help but wonder about the treasures and secrets it holds, a mysterious world teeming with countless species you’ve never even heard of that call it home.

Mankind has long tried to conquer the world beneath the waters, yet the pitch-black depths of the ocean remain largely unexplored, beyond the reach of even the best diving gear. Though you’re no diver, the allure of the sea’s hidden secrets captivates you, and you dream of one day uncovering its mysteries.

A sweet, velvety sound caresses your ears, prompting you to sit up and listen more closely. The enchanting melody wraps around you, and you realize it’s a voice—someone is singing.

God, it sounds beautiful—captivating, sweet, and strong, yet tinged with sorrow. The melody weaves its way into your soul, leaving you spellbound.

For a moment, you wonder if it’s all in your head—a fleeting hallucination brought on by too much wine. But a glance at your glass and the nearly full bottle beside you confirms you’ve barely finished your first glass.

The voice is real, and it carries an eerily familiar tone. Intrigued, you rise from your comfortable lounge chair and make your way down to the sandy beach that has been your backyard for the past few days.

Your bare feet sink into the warm, fine sand, its texture caressing your skin. You glance around, searching for the source of the beautiful voice, but the beach remains empty, with no one in sight.

There it is again—the singing, so achingly beautiful that it sends shivers down your spine and raises the hair on your arms. Your feet carry you along the shoreline, but despite your efforts, you can’t pinpoint the source of the enchanting voice.

Then, just as you’ve been pacing up and down the shoreline, the voice abruptly vanishes—quiet as a still puddle after a rain shower. With a strange unease settling in your gut, you reluctantly turn back toward home. The voice felt hauntingly familiar, yet somehow elusive—like a distant memory struggling to resurface.

For the past few days, the hauntingly beautiful voice has serenaded you night after night, drawing you out to the beach in search of its mysterious owner. Despite your efforts, luck eludes you, and each failed attempt leaves you with a sense of frustration, reminiscent of the pout Jungkook used to give you whenever you were being unreasonable with him.

Your frustration mounts as the elusive voice continues to evade you, its hauntingly familiar tone persistently tugging at the corners of your mind.

Frustration coursing through your veins, you slip into your bikini, determined to quell the restlessness with a night swim in your aquatic backyard.

As the sand caresses your feet, you stroll down to the shoreline under the watchful gaze of the moon, its ethereal glow casting a mesmerizing sheen upon the water. The scene is nothing short of magical, and as the lukewarm water embraces your skin, a delightful chill courses through your body—not from the cold, but from the familiar embrace of your second home. The ocean has always held a special place in your heart, and in this moment, it feels like a sanctuary away from the world.

Surrendering to the embrace of the water, you allow its gentle currents to envelop you, cradling you in its soft embrace as you yield to its rhythmic sway. With only your head above the surface, you venture further into the depths, relishing the sensation of weightlessness and freedom that comes with each stroke.

A soft, melodic sound tickles your ear—it’s that captivating voice again! This time, it resonates clearer, as if drawing you in closer. Driven by curiosity, you swim towards the source of the sound, your heart pounding with anticipation. As you approach a cluster of rocks and a looming cliffside, you spy a cave nestled within its embrace, beckoning you with its mysterious allure.

The cave envelops you in darkness, yet the gentle glow of the full moon dances upon the water, casting an ethereal light that transforms the rocky surface of the cliff into glistening crystals. The voice reverberates off the walls, its echoes amplifying its haunting melody. Drawing closer, you discern a figure resting their head upon a rock, their silhouette illuminated by the moon’s gentle caress.

Intrigued, you inch closer, your curiosity piqued. As you approach, you discern the figure of a man, likely around your age, or perhaps a bit younger, reclining against the stone, his body partially obscured by its shadowy embrace.

“Hello?” you call out, your voice echoing softly in the cave. Instantly, a pair of dark brown eyes fixate on yours, their intensity sending a shiver of recognition down your spine.

As you hear something splashing nearby, you swiftly swim to the corner of the cave. Pulling yourself up onto the rocky surface, you cast an inquisitive gaze at the stranger, who remains silent, their expression enigmatic.

“Are you okay?” you inquire, met with silence as the man attempts to retreat, concealing more of his body beneath the murky depths, leaving you to wonder what secrets lie hidden beneath the surface.

You approach cautiously, taking slow, measured steps, careful not to startle the man. His features are striking—sharp, chiseled jawline, eyes wide and intense, lips full yet thin, and a cute nose that triggers a flood of memories from long ago, memories that have never faded.

“Jungkook?” you gasp, the name escaping your lips like a sudden gust of wind, stirring a whirlwind of emotions within you—happiness and hurt colliding like waves crashing against the shore, overwhelming you in their tumultuous embrace.

The man cautiously peers over the rock, his bare torso partially shielded from view. The sight of him shirtless prompts a flurry of questions in your mind—why is he here, and why is he without a shirt?

Is that a sleeve of tattoos on his right arm?

You can’t help but notice the strength in his neck, the prominent veins tracing a path down to his defined clavicle and broad shoulders. Damn it you really shouldn’t, but you find yourself shamelessly admiring his physique, a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks.

“___?” His voice breaks the silence, light and airy, reminiscent of a summer breeze whispering through the leaves.

“Is it really you?” you inquire, lowering yourself to sit in front of him, your gaze sweeping over his features once more. His face holds a striking resemblance to someone from your past, now matured with the passage of time. Yet, those deep, familiar ocean eyes leave no doubt—it’s unmistakably Jungkook.

“Yes, it’s me,” he confirms, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. The boyish charm of his smile clashes with the maturity reflected in his sharp features, creating a captivating contrast.

“What are you doing here?” you inquire, a mix of surprise and curiosity evident in your voice. The sight of him in this cave, serenading the darkness with his song, leaves you utterly bewildered.

“Just taking a breather,” he chuckles, his gaze shamelessly roaming over your form, sending a subtle shiver down your spine.

“Hold on a second,” you exclaim, frustration tinged with urgency in your voice as you scratch your head in bewilderment. “What brings you here? You vanished without a trace. What happened?”

Another splash in the water draws your attention, and you track the sound to behind Jungkook—then, you spot it: the tail. It’s a mesmerizing shade of purple, with delicate variations of violet shimmering in the moonlit cave. The translucent fins catch the light as they sway gracefully. The scales, rough and scaly, add to the otherworldly beauty of him.

Your jaw nearly hits the rocky surface—if it could, it surely would. You gaze, utterly transfixed, at the figure before you—your childhood friend, now revealed as a mermaid. No, a merman. The revelation leaves you reeling. How is this possible? You’ve heard of undiscovered species lurking beneath the waters, but this is your friend, someone you’ve known for years with two perfectly functional feet and no hint of a scaly tail.

“___,” he begins, his voice filled with warmth and genuine curiosity. “It’s been such a long time. How have you been?” His eyes radiate happiness, but you’re still reeling from the revelation before you. Seeing him again—something you’ve dreamt about for years—leaves you speechless.

“No,” you assert firmly, a rush of urgency in your tone. “You don’t get to ask questions yet. There are so many things I need answers to from you first.” Determined, you attempt to peer over the rock he’s perched on, desperate for a closer look at the astonishing sight before you—your childhood friend now bearing a tail, a reality that defies all logic.

“Alright, fire away,” he responds, a hint of amusement dancing in his voice. “But give me a moment to settle in.” With a graceful movement, he hoists himself out of the water, his biceps flexing as he perches on the rock, his tail lazily swaying in the water. Bathed in the soft glow of the cave, his majestic purple tail shimmers, leaving you in awe of his breathtaking beauty.

He seems big and broad shouldered, the tattoos look intricate, reflecting ancient scribbles and drawings on his arm.

You plop down on the rugged surface, your mind reeling with disbelief—it all feels like a surreal dream. Unable to resist, you extend your hand to touch him, as if to confirm his reality. Your index finger tentatively prods his cheek before trailing down to his chest. The moment your touch meets his pecs, you’re met with a jolt of realization—his muscles are firm, real, and undeniably tangible beneath your fingertips, sending a surge of heat through your veins as you inadvertently find yourself groping his impeccable chest.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his eyes darting from your hand on his chest back to your face. Embarrassment floods your cheeks with a deep crimson as the realization of your actions hits you. You’ve been feeling the solid warmth of his chest, lost in the surreal moment.

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry!” you blurt out, yanking your hand back as if it’s been scorched. “I didn’t mean to touch you like that!” Embarrassment floods through you, your heart racing as you pull away from the unexpected intimacy.

Damn it, get a grip, you chastise yourself silently. “I just wanted to make sure this is real,” you confess aloud, your voice trembling slightly with lingering disbelief.

You release a nervous chuckle, the sound betraying the disbelief still coursing through you. But as you take in the surreal sight before you—Jungkook, undeniably real and impossibly transformed—you can no longer deny the truth. Your childhood friend is here, right in front of you, and he is, astonishingly, a merman.

“Oh, this is very real,” he teases, his voice rich and layered with an enigmatic quality that you can’t quite decipher but are desperate to understand.

“Are you really a merman?” you ask, your gaze drifting back to his tail, mesmerized by its iridescent beauty. It’s breathtaking, almost otherworldly.

He nods, a soft smile playing on his lips, his eyes glimmering with a wistful nostalgia that tugs at your heartstrings.

“What happened to you? Why did you leave?” you demand, the urgency in your voice revealing the depth of your longing and confusion. These are the questions that have haunted you for years, the ones you swore you’d ask if you ever saw him again. Why did he disappear without a word, leaving you behind?

You watch as his expression shifts, becoming more guarded. “My parents and I had to move back home... to the ocean, I mean,” he explains, his face twitching as if struggling to mask an inner pain. “A rift in a tectonic plate devastated my village. Everything was destroyed, so we had to return and help rebuild.”

You study him closely, a lump forming in your throat as a myriad of emotions swirl within you.

“Okay. But why couldn’t you come back when you were done?” you inquire, your voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and hurt. It’s apparent that there are unresolved feelings of abandonment lingering within you, a reminder of the wounds you may need to address with your therapist.

“I really wanted to, but my parents and the village elders forbade it. We dedicated ourselves to rebuilding our village, but returning to the surface was strictly prohibited,” he explains, a palpable sadness tinting his words. It’s evident that he had yearned to reunite with you, but the weight of his responsibilities as a merman ultimately kept him bound to the depths of the ocean.

“Why are you here now? And are there others like you?” you inquire, a mix of bewilderment and intrigue coloring your tone. As you press for more information, you notice him visibly relax, his features softening once again in response to your curiosity.

“Well, I’ve been here for quite a while. I come up here to sing, often thinking of you, actually,” he confesses, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. “And yes, there are others like me,” he adds with a chuckle, the sound carrying a mixture of amusement and friendly banter.

“Thinking of me?” you stammer in amazement, your voice barely above a whisper as the weight of his words settles in.

“Yeah. I’ve missed you since I had to leave, and I’ve been searching for you for years. Meeting you again feels like a dream come true,” he confesses, his voice filled with palpable joy at the reunion with a long-lost friend. His words send a surge of warmth through you, igniting a flutter of emotions you thought long buried. As your heart skips a beat, you’re struck by the realization that the childhood crush you harbored for him still lingers, stronger than ever.

“I’ve missed you too,” you exhale, your voice barely above a whisper, heavy with emotion. With a gentle touch, you extend your hand, laying it atop his on the rough surface of the rock, a silent reassurance of your enduring bond.

“How come you’re a merman? You were just a boy last time I saw you…” you begin, not really knowing how to ask the question that you have swirling in your mind.

“You want to know if something happened to me, to make me like this,” he gestures with his other hand over his body— it’s well defined, muscles big and strong, “or if I’d always been a merman?” His words hang in the air, a poignant reminder of the mysteries surrounding his transformation.

You choke on air with how effortlessly he articulates your thoughts, a skill he’s always possessed. You nod in agreement, the intensity of your curiosity driving you to lean in closer, desperate to unravel the enigma of his transformation.

“I’ve always been a merman. My parents chose to live as humans— they’re merfolk too, by the way. But they wanted me to experience life on land. So, despite appearances, I’ve always been like this,” he explains, a smile gracing his lips as he playfully flips his tail in the water, sending ripples dancing in his wake.

“How… How do you transform?” you ask, studying him intently once more. Despite his remarkable change, he still retains that familiar essence, stirring up the remnants of the childhood crush you thought you’d outgrown. A flush of warmth creeps across your cheeks, betraying the intensity of your emotions.

“Well. When I’m out of water for an extended period, I assume my human form. And when I’m in contact with water, I revert to my merman form,” he explains, a soft smile gracing his lips. As his fingers intertwine with yours, his touch is tender, each stroke a gentle caress that ignites a spark of warmth within you.

You nod, absorbing his explanation, but then you gasp as his words sink in, a realization dawning on you. “Do you transform when it rains then?” you blurt out, the question bursting forth with newfound urgency and curiosity.

His laughter fills the air, rich and unrestrained, sending ripples of warmth through your chest. Your gaze instinctively drifts to his chest, where the rhythmic movement of his pectorals accompanies the melody of his mirth, a captivating display of joy that you can’t help but revel in.

“No. That wouldn’t be very practical. It has to be seawater, or simply prolonged exposure to water can also do the trick,” he explains, his tone laced with a hint of amusement at the notion of rain-induced transformations.

You nod in understanding once more. “Nothing about this is practical, Jungkook,” you remark, a hint of incredulity lacing your tone.

He chuckles again, withdrawing his hand from yours and gently cupping your cheek. His touch sends a surge of warmth coursing through you, like a dormant ember suddenly ignited into a flickering flame, ready to blaze anew.

He locks eyes with you, his gaze unwavering and intense, brimming with depths of emotion that beckon you to explore. It’s like peering into an uncharted ocean, filled with mysteries waiting to be discovered. Despite the unfamiliarity, you’re drawn to dive deep and lose yourself in the depths of his gaze.

“Do you remember our promise?” he murmurs, his voice a gentle rumble, yet resolute. Seeking solace in the familiarity of your gaze, his words carry the weight of cherished memories and unspoken vows.

“Of course,” you respond with a bittersweet smile, lifting your hand and extending your pinky finger. “I’ve never forgotten you, Jungkook,” you affirm, the weight of years past and promises kept evident in your touch.

He hums a melody, its tune unfamiliar yet strangely soothing, and in that moment, you find solace in the sound of his voice, the melody a balm to your racing heart. “I’ve never forgotten you either, ___,” he confesses, his words carrying the weight of shared memories and enduring connection.

With his other hand, he reaches out, extending his pinky finger to intertwine with yours, creating a connection that feels like two worlds colliding, merging into one. It’s a moment of transcendence, where past and present converge, binding you both in a promise that spans the depths of time.

“I never got to tell you this on that day, and it has haunted me since, but I like you,” His words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken truths and a vulnerability that echoes through your soul. As he gazes into your eyes, it feels like he’s peeling away layers of your being, leaving you exposed and vulnerable, despite the fabric that shields your skin. With each moment, he draws nearer, his touch a gentle anchor amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling between you.

“I like you too,” your confession hangs in the air, suspended between you like a delicate thread woven with anticipation and longing. With every word, you feel the weight of your emotions, amplified by the closeness of his presence. As your breath brushes against his skin, you can almost taste the bittersweet tang of desire mingled with the salt of the ocean breeze.

In his embrace, you feel cherished, cocooned in a world where only the two of you exist. His gaze, laden with affection, dances between the depths of your eyes and the soft curve of your lips, a silent symphony of desire. You catch the subtle flicker of his pupils as they dilate, mirroring the fluttering of your heart. A fleeting gesture, your tongue brushes against your lips, a subtle invitation to bridge the divide between longing and fulfillment.

In the hushed sanctuary of the moonlit cave, time seems to stretch into a languid dance, enveloping you both in its tender embrace. The world outside fades into a distant murmur, leaving only the rhythmic melody of your shared breaths echoing off the rocky walls. Your gaze descends to the plush pinkness of his lips, a tantalizing invitation begging to be explored. A surge of curiosity and desire courses through you, igniting a tempest of longing as you ponder the intoxicating possibility of tasting his kiss.

“Can I kiss you?” His question hangs in the air like a delicate promise, and you feel a rush of anticipation flooding your senses, the tension between you crackling like electricity. His words, soft yet laden with unspoken longing, send a tremor of excitement coursing through your veins. In that suspended moment, you find yourself caught in the irresistible pull of his gaze, his eyes a sea of swirling emotions mirroring your own. With a silent plea echoing in your heart, you grant him permission with a subtle nod, your breath hitching in anticipation as you yearn for the moment when his lips will meet yours.

His tattooed hand, warm and possessive, slides from your cheek to the back of your neck with a gentle urgency, pulling you into him as if he’s afraid you might slip away. When his lips meet yours, it’s like a collision of stars, soft yet electric, igniting a wildfire of sensation that courses through your veins. As he pulls back, his eyes searching yours for any hint of discomfort, you’re overcome with a rush of warmth and affection. With a soft chuckle escaping your lips, you reach for him, fingers intertwining with the soft strands of his hair as you draw him closer. The second kiss is a revelation, a crescendo of desire and longing that leaves you breathless and craving more. His hum reverberates against your lips, grounding you in the intensity of the moment, like a lifeline in a sea of swirling emotions.

You draw back reluctantly, a sigh escaping your lips as you feel the bittersweet ache of parting. “It’s getting late,” you murmur, the weight of reality settling in as you remember your responsibilities waiting beyond the cave’s embrace.

“When will I see you again?” the question hangs between you like a delicate thread, woven with hope and uncertainty, longing for reassurance in the face of impending separation.

A mischievous glint dances in his eyes, and he licks his lips with a playful flick of his tongue, relishing the way your senses are all tangled up in a whirlwind of emotions—frazzled yet utterly blissed-out in his presence.

“Soon,” he assures with a reassuring smile, his touch lingering for a moment longer as his thumb caresses your lip, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. “You can always find me here, or just listen for my voice. But duty calls back home. I’ll return, I promise.” With that, he pulls away, releasing you from the spell of the moment, but leaving behind a promise that lingers in the air like the echo of his voice in the cave.

Reluctantly, you rise, dusting off imaginary particles from your skin with a sweep of your hands, lingering in the moment a bit longer. With a soft smile, you regard him, your eyes filled with a mixture of fondness and longing.

“You really have a beautiful voice, Jungkook,” you murmur, the words carrying a weight of sincerity and admiration, like a gentle breeze in the tranquil cave.

With a smile that seems to illuminate the entire cave, he gracefully immerses himself in the water, causing it to dance and ripple around him like liquid poetry in motion.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” you express, your voice tinged with a mixture of longing and affection, each word carrying the weight of the emotions you hold for him.

“I’ll be counting the moments until our paths cross again,” he murmurs softly, his words carrying on the gentle breeze as he fades into the depths below, leaving you with the lingering promise of his return.

Jungkook had indeed kept his word. Though you trusted him, a small part of you feared you’d never see him again. Yet, the very next day, he reappeared in the cave, serenading you with a song as you basked in his presence. This enchanting ritual has continued every day for the past two weeks, each encounter deepening your bond and making the fear of losing him fade away.

So far, your encounters have been limited to kisses, which you absolutely love—his lips are incredibly soft. Yet, lately, you’ve found yourself yearning for more. The stress of your upcoming housewarming party, which you’ve shared with Jungkook, isn’t helping. You think that letting loose with him might be just what you need to de-stress.

“Why are you having this party again if you don’t really want to?” he asks, genuinely curious. He can’t fathom why you’d willingly burden yourself with the hassle of pleasing others when it clearly brings you no joy.

“I guess it’s just expected of me,” you muse, looking down at the sparkling water as his tail gently plays with it, creating ripples. “My friends are coming, my parents too. They haven’t seen my new house yet.”

He smiles at you, a touch of sadness in his eyes. “It’s nice that you’re doing this for them, but it sounds like you’re forcing yourself. That makes me a bit sad.”

You shake your head and put up your hands in defense. “Yeah, but it’s okay. It’s not like I dislike it completely. It’ll be nice seeing my friends again.” You pause, a sudden idea lighting up your face.

“You could also come, you know?”

His face brightens momentarily, but then he slumps down in the water, looking a bit deflated. “I’d love to come, but I’m not sure I can. My hyungs need my help in the village; one of them has been missing for days, and we’ve been searching for him without luck…” His voice trails off, a mix of concern and disappointment etched on his face.

You feel a twinge of sadness for him and say softly, “I’m so sorry, Jungkook. I hope you find him soon. Just know you’re always welcome, no matter when.”

His smile returns, but there’s a hint of worry in his eyes as he speaks. “Thanks. Jimin usually never wanders off, that’s why we’re afraid something has happened to him.”

You envelop him in a hug, offering what comfort you can, despite not knowing Jimin. You silently pray for Jimin’s swift return—after all, you understand more than most the ache of missing a piece of your heart.

A few days later, the soft strains of music fill your home, weaving through the laughter and chatter of old and new friends alike, and the comforting presence of your parents, whose faces you haven’t seen in what feels like an eternity.

As you mingle with your friends, catching up on stories and laughter, time seems to dance away unnoticed. It’s only when the gentle kiss of the evening breeze starts to nip at your skin that you realize how long you’ve been engrossed in conversation with your colleague out on the terrace. With a shared chuckle at the sudden chill, you both retreat inside, seeking the warmth of good company and lively conversations.

Her joke evokes laughter from you, but the moment is abruptly interrupted by her sudden silence, drawing your attention to where her finger points. In the kitchen, your parents stand, their faces alight with smiles, engaged in conversation with a tall, dark-haired man whose locks curl gently at the ends.

Her curiosity piques as she nudges you with a mischievous grin.

“Who’s that hot man with a tattooed arm over there talking with your parents?” she asks, her voice tinged with intrigue, prompting both of you to draw nearer to the kitchen.

As you draw closer, disbelief gives way to certainty: it’s unmistakably Jungkook standing beside your parents.

“___! You never mentioned Jungkook’s return! How long has it been, twenty years?” your mother exclaims, her smile radiant as she pinches Jungkook’s cheek affectionately, treating him like a long-lost child returned home.

Your dad’s eyes sparkle with the warmth of a long-awaited reunion, as if he’s just rediscovered an old friend, and you can’t help but chuckle at the scene unfolding before you.

Your mother reaches out to embrace Jungkook, her petite frame enveloped by his much larger one, but he indulges her with a warm hug, wrapping her in a comforting embrace.

With a playful grin, your friend nudges you, her eyes darting between you and Jungkook, a knowing glint sparkling in them. “Who is this handsome man?”

As you break from your reverie, you manage a sheepish grin, your voice carrying a hint of nostalgia and excitement. “This is Jungkook, my childhood friend. We go way back.”

“He’s hot,” your friend’s observation cuts through the air with a boldness that makes you chuckle, her eyes gleaming mischievously as she sizes up Jungkook.

Your mother’s laughter fills the room, a warm melody that dances around the air. “He really is! You’ve really outgrown that cute bunny phase you had,” she teases, her fingers playfully squeezing Jungkook’s rather impressive biceps.

“Mom! You’re embarrassing me,” you groan, a mixture of embarrassment and exasperation painting your voice as you reach for Jungkook’s hand, eager to escape the teasing clutches of both your parents and your friend.

As you pull him away, Jungkook chuckles softly, following you into the living room where you both sink into the inviting embrace of the couch.

Amidst the chatter filling the room, engaging in conversation with Jungkook proves challenging, his words often drowned out by the lively voices of others around you.

“Would you like to step out for a bit? Take a stroll along the beach?” he proposes, his gaze alight with anticipation, as if the idea itself holds a promise of something wonderful.

With a nod, you clasp his hand, a silent agreement passing between you. But before you step out into the night, you make a quick detour to your friend, informing her of your plans for a seaside stroll.

She scrutinizes you with the intensity of a hawk, then delves into her purse, emerging with something in hand. “Here,” she says, passing it to you.

“I have a feeling you might need this.”

You accept the small foil packet, its presence alone sending a jolt of recognition through you. Your cheeks and ears ignite with heat, and you hastily tuck it into your jeans pocket, your gratitude tinged with embarrassment. “Thanks,” you murmur, your voice slightly breathless.

As you begin to turn away, she shoots you a playful wink, causing you to release a sigh of embarrassment, your cheeks still flushed with color.

Outside, you stroll barefoot on the sand, reveling in the moment with Jungkook by your side—both of you connected to the earth beneath your feet. His presence captivates you, his figure tall and striking against the backdrop of the beach. Shoulder-length hair dances around his face, adding to his allure. With each step, you admire his physique—broad shoulders tapering to a defined waist, muscular thighs moving with purpose. Clad in a white tank top, his biceps speak of strength, while his snug blue denim jeans accentuate his powerful legs, showcasing a silhouette that commands attention.

His human form is undeniably beautiful, but it pales in comparison to the breathtaking splendor of his merman form. This realization brings a soft smile to your lips, and a blush warms your cheeks.

You walk with him along the beach, your hand nestled comfortably in his, the silence stretching between you like a warm blanket. It feels like an eternity before he clears his throat, a deep rumble that breaks the quiet. “Do you want to go to the cave?” he asks, his voice tinged with a hopeful anticipation.

You look up at him, captivated by the soft, teasing smile playing on his lips. “Yeah,” you agree, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest.

“Cool. I know a way to get there from land,” he says, pulling you along the shore. Your feet sink into the cool sand with each step, the waves gently lapping at your ankles as you follow him, while he makes an effort not to let the seawater touch him.

“You do? I thought it was only accessible from the sea,” you chuckle, feeling the excitement build as he leads you closer to the rocky formations along the cliffside.

“I know a lot of hiding spots,” he giggles, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he reveals a narrow, almost hidden entryway in the cliffside, just big enough for him to slip through.

You step into the familiar cliffside cave where you’ve been meeting for the past few weeks. Nestling into the small sandy patch, the only section not enveloped in stone, you feel a comforting sense of familiarity mixed with anticipation.

“Much easier to talk in here, huh?” Jungkook chuckles, leaning back against the cave wall. The gentle echo of his laughter fills the space, making it feel cozier. You nod, a soft, airy chuckle escaping your lips as a blush warms your cheeks. Sitting beside him, the intimacy of the cave amplifies every shared glance and whispered word.

You look up at him, your eyes fluttering bashfully. “I don’t really want to talk anymore,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, I thought you wanted to talk,” he says, his voice deflating as a pout forms on his lips. That’s when it hits you—he has no idea how much you crave him, how badly you want to feel him, everywhere.

You turn your body towards his, your hands caressing his face as you pull his face towards yours. “I want to do more than talk,” you quip, your voice small but steady. “I want to kiss you and so much more.”

Something seems to snap in him, and a mischievous smirk spreads across his cheeks. He moves his face closer to yours, your noses almost touching. “So you want more?” he teases, his voice a tantalizing whisper against your lips.

“Yes,” you breathe, the word escaping in a breathless pant as you close the distance between you. Your lips meet his in a fervent, passionate kiss, igniting a fire that blazes between you. Your hands hold his cheeks in place, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch, as he responds eagerly, deepening the kiss with his tongue, sending waves of desire coursing through you.

When you part, both of your eyes are wide, pupils dilated with desire, reflecting the intensity of the moment.

“I want you, Kook,” you plead, your breath mingling with his, your foreheads pressed together in an intimate connection.

Your fingertips trace the lines of his body, dancing over the contours of his chest until they halt at the brink of his jeans.

“I want you too, ___, but I—” he pants, his words cut short as you start to rub your hand over his clothed dick, eliciting a deep, gratifying groan from him.

You keep teasing him with your hand, feeling the growing hardness beneath your touch, sending shivers of anticipation down your spine. You lick your lips, watching as his face contorts in pleasure, every subtle reaction driving you wild with desire.

“Hmm, you like it?” you ask, positioning yourself directly in front of him, locking eyes as you continue your ministrations.

“Yes, but I—” as your hand maintains its pressure on his crotch, he stammers out his words, his voice a mixture of desire and hesitation.

“What, are you a virgin?” your playful tease hangs in the air, accompanied by a soft chuckle, as you lean in closer to him, your breath warming his ear with your whispered words.

“No!” His response is hurried, almost defensive, tinged with a hint of embarrassment. “I’ve just never done it with a human before…” he confesses, his tone a mixture of vulnerability and curiosity.

You draw back slightly, scanning his face, catching a glimpse of uncertainty mingled with desire flickering in his eyes.

“I can guide you through it, show you what feels good. Trust me, you’ll enjoy every moment,” you say, your eyes shimmering with a mix of confidence and anticipation.

“I mean, Jin hyung already told me how it works,” he pants, his gaze fixated on your hand as it works its magic, his hips instinctively moving in rhythm, “I’ve touched myself before, out of curiosity, but I’ve never had sex with a human before.”

Your expression softens, recognizing that this is a new experience for him, so you resolve to take it slow.

“Mermen don’t exactly have dicks like humans,” he chuckles, his movements against your hand betraying his eagerness for friction.

You lean in again, teasing him, “How exactly do merfolk have sex?”

He chuckles, smirking at you, “Well, it’s more like a mating ritual, honestly. There’s some swimming around, almost like a dance, rubbing against each other. It’s quite primal and intimate, in its own way.”

You frown, a mixture of curiosity and disbelief evident on your face. “That’s it?”

He nods, his expression both amused and sincere.’

“No teasing? Release of bodily fluids? Making out? Sticking things into holes?” you list, your expression a mix of incredulity and disappointment. God, you really do like sex and all of the things you just listed. Mermaid intercourse sounds slightly boring in comparison.

“No sticking things into holes sadly—except for tongue kissing,” he chuckles, masking his disappointment with a playful grin, though you sense a tinge of longing in his eyes.

“But you get to try that now, okay? Then you can tell all your friends how it is to have sex with a human,” you smile, feeling a bit mischievous, your words laced with humor as you try to lighten the mood after the serious discussion.

“Many of them have already experienced it,” he laughs, his tone tinged with excitement and a hint of anticipation, “My hyungs have done it a lot, and I can’t wait to experience it myself.”

“They sound like they’ve had their fair share of adventures,” you chuckle, stealing a glance downwards, noticing the telltale strain in his pants.

He chuckles, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. “Can we talk about something else? Because I’m having trouble focusing on your hand when I’m talking about my friends.”

With a playful laugh, you grasp the situation and share a knowing glance. Eager to reignite the passionate spark between you, you playfully unzip his pants, only to discover he’s gone commando—a thrilling surprise that sets your heart racing and ignites a rush of desire.

A mischievous grin plays on your lips as you raise an eyebrow, your fingers wrapping around his cock teasingly. “No underwear?” you jest, a playful twinkle in your eye, as you give him a tantalizing stroke, feeling his anticipation building with each caress.

With a low, guttural sound, he shifts his weight, arching his back to assist as you peel off the remainder of his jeans. Your fingers eagerly find their way back to his dick, marveling at its girth and length, already imagining the delicious stretch it will bring. The anticipation sends shivers down your spine.

His cock is long— longer than average, and thicker too. The tip is red, a small bead of precum gathered at the top, just waiting to be tasted by your tongue.

He teases you, his hips surging upward as if to test your grip. “Do you like it?” he murmurs, a hint of mischief in his voice, his eyes locking onto yours as he waits for your response.

You meet his gaze with a smirk, your fingers still wrapped around him. “Yeah, it’s impressive,” you concede, your voice laced with anticipation. Honestly, you don’t care much about the size of it, more about how good he is at using it.

He watches you intently, his gaze probing yet curious. “Have you had a lot of sex before?”

You nod and give him a small smile.

You lean in closer, your eyes locked with his, conveying your sincerity and eagerness. “I have, but let’s focus on us now,” you whisper, your voice tinged with determination. “I want to make you feel good, and then you can return the favor. How does that sound?”

With a tantalizing smile, you moisten your lips before lowering them to his cock. The instant contact makes him quiver, a reaction that only fuels your desire. You start by tracing him with your tongue, savoring his taste, before enveloping him completely in your warm, wet mouth.

He utters adorable, needy moans as your mouth envelops him, his reactions spurring you on as you slide up and down, sucking him with fervor and intensity.

His hands find your hair, gripping it gently at first, then with a bit more urgency, but you don’t mind one bit. Instead, it fuels your desire, urging you to take more of him into your mouth, to please him further with every movement.

The echoing sounds of slurping fill the cave, reverberating off the rocky walls, creating a symphony of desire. Each wet, sucking noise only fuels your arousal further, igniting a fire within you that burns hotter with every passing moment.

“Shit. I’m feeling like I might come already,” he pants, his fingers tightening in your hair, a futile attempt to control the rising tide of pleasure coursing through him.

You release him with a soft pop, panting as you meet his pleading gaze, a flicker of desire mirrored in your eyes, silently promising more to come.

“It felt really good, but I really want to know what it feels like being inside your pussy, please,” his plea echoes through the cave, his eyes pleading like a desperate puppy, and you can’t help but chuckle at his adorable earnestness, your own desire kindled by his longing gaze.

“Of course. I want to have you inside of me too,” you pant, urgency seeping into your voice as you hastily pull your shirt over your head, revealing the lace of your bra to him, a silent invitation in the flickering light of the cave.

“You’re stunning,” he breathes, his voice filled with awe and genuine appreciation. “It’s not just your body that I love, but your entire essence, your personality—it’s all so captivating.”

Your smile widens, mirroring the warmth and affection swelling in your chest as you gaze at him. As you begin to unbutton your pants, a thought nudges its way into your consciousness. Retrieving the foil packet from your pocket, you place it on the ground between you, a silent promise of the intimacy about to unfold.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers to the foil packet, curiosity sparking in his eyes like a flame catching kindling. “What’s that?” he asks, his voice laced with intrigue and a hint of anticipation, as if sensing the gravity of the moment wrapped in that small, innocuous package.

You chuckle softly, charmed by his innocence, realizing he’s never encountered a condom before. It’s endearing, really, how sheltered his underwater world has been.

“It’s a condom. It’s for protection,” you explain gently, feeling a mix of tenderness and amusement at his innocence. “You put it on your cock. I’m on birth control, but it never hurts to be extra safe,” you assure him, deciding to take the lead and offer to help him put it on.

As you attempt to open the foil packet, he intercepts your movement with a smirk, halting you with his hand. “Not now. I want to taste you first. Can I? And will you let me know if you like it or not? I’ve never tried it before,” he trails off, his voice soft and endearing. It’s moments like these that make you realize just how charming he can be.

His hands find purchase on your hips, and with a deliberate tug, he pulls your pants down, leaving you bare in your underwear. His gaze travels over you, from your eyes down to your dripping cunt, igniting a fire of anticipation in your core.

“Your panties are wet.”

You chuckle in response, a mix of excitement and nervousness dancing in your eyes as you obediently part your legs wider, inviting him in with a playful yet anticipatory smirk.

“That’s because I’m aroused,” you confess, your voice barely a whisper as his touch sends a delicious shiver down your spine, your anticipation building with every electrifying caress of his hand against your hip bone and down to your pussy.

“You can remove it,” you whisper, your voice husky with desire, as you arch your back, offering yourself to him, a silent invitation. With a slow, deliberate motion, he slides your panties down your legs, revealing your glistening pussy to the dimly lit cave, the anticipation thickening the air between you.

He lowers himself between your parted legs, his touch sending shivers up your spine as his hands explore the soft skin of your thighs, eliciting playful giggles from your lips. With agonizing slowness, his fingertips inch closer to your aching pussy, your body aching with desire, yearning for his touch. You find yourself silently begging for him to make contact, your entire being consumed by the anticipation of his caress.

“Please, Jungkook,” you implore, your voice trembling with urgency and longing, “I need to feel you, your touch—whether it’s your fingers or your mouth, I don’t care. Just touch me.”

As he gazes into your eyes, his expression filled with desire and understanding, he delicately traces his index finger over your sensitive clit. The sensation overwhelms you, eliciting a strangled gasp of his name, your body responding eagerly to his touch.

With each gentle stroke of his finger over your clit, you can’t help but release a soft moan, your body instinctively responding to his touch. Sensing your pleasure, he continues, his movements becoming more confident as he circles and rubs your clit, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

As your breath quickens and your body trembles with anticipation, you find it increasingly difficult to maintain control, your legs quivering with need. Sensing your urgency, he gently guides your legs apart with his free hand, allowing him better access to your pussy.

He watches, entranced, as your clit pulsates, the rhythmic flexing and relaxing of the muscle a mesmerizing sight. The vision of your arousal sends a jolt of desire through him, making his own need painfully evident.

“You can put a finger in,” you pant, your voice trembling with need, eyes wide and pleading for more.

He looks up, his eyes searching yours, “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice a husky whisper filled with both concern and anticipation.

You bite your bottom lip, a soft groan escaping your throat. “Yes, Jungkook,” you breathe, your voice laced with desperate longing, “I want your fingers inside me now.”

With the hand that was expertly teasing your clit, Jungkook slides it down to your slick folds, marveling at how you glisten in the moonlit cave. He gently positions his index finger, then slowly, almost tantalizingly, pushes it inside you, making you gasp at the intimate sensation.

The pleasure hits you instantly, a surge of desire overwhelming your senses. You crave more, each second intensifying your need, as if every nerve in your body is crying out for him.

“Wow,” he breathes, mesmerized by the sight of his finger slowly disappearing into your hole, his eyes wide with awe and desire.

Mesmerized, he begins thrusting his finger in and out of you, his movements slow and deliberate. Your sweet noises of pleasure fill the cave, encouraging him. After a moment, he looks up, his voice husky with desire, “Can I add another one?”

You nod, and another finger slips into your pussy, stretching you just a bit more. The sensation is intoxicating, yet you crave so much more. You’re trying to maintain control, to let him take his time, but the need inside you is almost overwhelming.

“Please,” you whisper urgently, your voice trembling with desire, “add a third finger and use your other hand to play with my clit.” You crave the sensation, the stretch, the readiness for his cock, your need palpable in every word.

With a swift motion, you unhook your bra, allowing it to slip to the ground. His movements pause as his gaze fixes on your exposed chest—your nipples standing pert and proud, a silent invitation to his touch.

As his gaze reluctantly leaves your exposed chest, he resumes his attention on you, the third finger sliding into you with a gasp of pleasure escaping your lips at the welcomed stretch. His thumb, slick with your juices, finds your clit once more, initiating a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Breathless and on the edge of ecstasy, you manage to muster the question, your voice filled with awe and admiration, “Are you sure you haven’t done this before? Because you’re really good at it.”

His laughter dances in the air, a melody to your unraveling pleasure. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he withdraws his fingers, leaving you with a perplexed frown until you see him drawing nearer, his tongue tracing the contours of your pussy.

You surrender to the ecstasy, tossing your head back as waves of pleasure wash over you, relishing the sensation of his velvety tongue caressing every contour of your quivering folds and sending electric pulses of delight through your clit.

With a hunger that matches your own, he envelops your clit, his mouth becoming a vortex of ravenous need, as he sucks and teases, drawing forth the essence of your desire and savoring every drop of your arousal with a fervent devotion.

With an almost expert touch, he draws your sensitive bud into his mouth, creating a vortex of sensation that sends electrifying pulses of pleasure coursing through your body. Each suction brings you closer to the edge, igniting a fiery intensity that threatens to consume you entirely. As you pant and gasp, your senses reel with the impending release, the anticipation coiling tighter within you like a spring ready to unleash its pent-up energy.

Your fingers trace the curves of your breasts, igniting a trail of sensation that sends shivers down your spine. With each touch, you feel the heat building within you, a primal urge demanding release. Your fingertips dance over your nipples, teasing them to attention, and you can’t help but respond with a symphony of gasps and moans.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers up, drawn to the symphony of your movements, your gasps and moans orchestrating a melody of desire. Yet, he remains steadfast in his task, his lips and tongue weaving a spell of ecstasy as he devours you with hunger, like he has done this many times before. It’s as though he’s an artist, each stroke of his tongue a masterpiece, each flicker of his lips a masterpiece of passion.

As your body arches and trembles with impending release, you’re acutely aware that the peak of ecstasy is just within reach. “Jungkook,” you gasp, your voice a fervent plea, “I’m... I’m going to come.”

With his deep chuckle vibrating against your most sensitive spot, you’re overcome by the intoxicating blend of sensations. In an instant, your world explodes into a symphony of pleasure, your fingers tangling in his ebony locks, anchoring you to the dizzying whirlwind of ecstasy as he eagerly savors every drop of your essence.

With a gentle and tender gaze, he pulls away, his features adorned with a shimmer of your essence. “Was this alright?” he murmurs, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty, yet his eyes brimming with warmth and adoration. With a gasp of disbelief, you draw him into a passionate kiss, savoring the mingling taste of yourself on his lips, yet your heart races with an electric thrill. “It was perfect,” you murmur against his mouth, your voice laden with sincerity and longing, sealing the moment with fervent intensity.

“Now you can fuck me,” filled with need, you voice your desire, urgency coloring every syllable, as you reach for his shirt and hastily pull it over his head. Your fingers fumble with the foil packet, opening it with a sense of anticipation, before your hand finds his still-hard cock.

With careful precision, you slide the condom over his dick, a tangible barrier between you and raw desire. As you spread your legs, creating space for him, his cock hovers tantalizingly close to where you ache for him most. In his gaze, you detect a mixture of longing and uncertainty, silently seeking your permission to proceed.

You take control, grasping his cock firmly and guiding it to your eager entrance. With a whispered instruction, you urge him to press forward, “Push a little, but slowly.”

As he nods in agreement, a determined glint ignites in his eyes. With gentle yet purposeful movements, he starts to ease his cock into the welcoming warmth of your eager pussy, each inch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, stretching you deliciously with every inch gained.

His breath hitches, voice laced with wonderment, “Wow. You’re so tight,” he pants, his words punctuated by the sensation of more and more of his dick disappearing into the velvety depths of your cunt, a symphony of pleasure enveloping you both with each inch he claims.

“God, you’re big,” you pant back, a mixture of excitement and anticipation lacing your voice as you try your best to relax, welcoming the exquisite stretch and fullness as he almost fills you up, every inch of him stirring a delicious ache within you.

Finally, he’s completely inside, and you release a shaky breath you didn’t even realize you’d been holding, feeling every pulsing inch of him deep within you, a rush of sensation flooding your senses as you revel in the delicious fullness he provides.

“You can move now,” you encourage him with a smile, eager anticipation shimmering in your eyes as you invite him to explore the depths of pleasure with each rhythmic thrust.

“How? You’re hugging me so tight,” he groans in pleasure, his voice tinged with uncertainty, as if seeking your direction amidst the waves of sensation coursing through both of you.

“Feel how we fit together?” you whisper, your hands tenderly guiding his hips. “Just move your hips—back and forth. Follow the rhythm of our bodies, and trust me, it’ll be amazing.”

“I already feel so good.”

He starts with a gentle push, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through you. With each thrust, he delves deeper, igniting an electric dance between your bodies, and you can’t help but moan in bliss.

“Don’t stop—faster,” you urge him on, and he responds with a surge of intensity, each thrust echoing in the cavern, a symphony of desire enveloping you both.

Your hands abandon his ass and hips once you’re satisfied he’s got the rhythm, his every thrust hitting that perfect spot, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you, your eyes rolling back in pleasure.

You moan his name, the sound igniting a primal response in him, his grunts mingling with your name, creating a symphony of passion in the cave.

“Keep going—harder,” you plead, your voice laced with urgency and desire. With each thrust, he drives into you with unyielding force, your back meeting the rough cave wall, igniting a primal intensity that leaves you breathless. You know there’ll be marks and scratches later, but at this moment, all you care about is the raw, primal pleasure he’s giving you.

“Yes!” you scream, your voice echoing against the walls of the cave, the intensity of his thrusts driving you to clutch his strong biceps for leverage. The intricate tattoo sleeve he has on his right arm, flexing with the strength he puts into his thrusts. With each powerful movement of his hips, he plunges deeper into you, igniting a primal fire that consumes both of you in an insatiable frenzy.

“___. I think I’m going to come soon,” he confesses, his voice strained with pleasure, his brows furrowing in anticipation of the impending release.

“Me too. Shit. Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” you gasp out, your disbelief mingling with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. His skill and passion feel too seasoned for a first-timer, leaving you both questioning the truth of his innocence.

“I’m just a fast learner,” he teases, his lips finding solace on one of your exposed nipples, eliciting a fervent moan of his name from you.

He sucks and nibbles at it, all while hitting your soft spot with precision. It’s an onslaught of sensation, driving you to the edge of ecstasy. You can feel the coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter within you, threatening to unravel at any moment.

With a tantalizing pop, he releases your nipple, only to lavish the same attention on its twin. His kisses, licks, and sucking send ripples of pleasure through your body, each touch igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you whole.

That’s it. You’re gonna come again.

“Fuck, Kook,” you cry out, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you as you surrender to the torrent of ecstasy, your pussy releasing your liquid and pulsating around his cock, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you with the breakneck speed he’s moving his hips at.

“Damn, how did you just get even tighter?” he groans, his voice strained with pleasure, his primal urges driving him to the brink of ecstasy. You feel his urgency, knowing he’s teetering on the edge of release.

“Fuck—” he pants, his breath ragged and erratic. Then, he stutters, his movements turning feral for a moment as you feel his cock twitch inside your pussy, and he releases into the condom, his body shuddering with the intensity of his climax.

He stills inside you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he puts all of his weight into his arms. You gaze at him with a smile, your hand finding his cheek, gently pulling him closer to you, a silent reassurance in your touch.

You kiss him tenderly, the intimacy lingering in the air as your lips meet in a long and deep embrace. When you finally part, your breath mingling, you whisper softly, “I loved every moment of it.”

“Me too,” his voice carries a gentle exhaustion, mirroring the weariness you also feel settling in. You share a quiet moment, the weight of your shared passion and pleasure evident in the silence that follows.

As he gradually softens inside you, he withdraws gently. You swiftly retrieve the condom, deftly disposing of it with a practiced flick, tossing it into the depths of the cave, a silent testament to the intimacy shared in this hidden sanctuary.

“Can we do it again?” he pleads, his eyes ablaze with desire, each word heavy with anticipation, begging for another swim into ecstasy.

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his once more, the promise of another intimate time igniting a fire within you both.

“But maybe we can go for a swim first?” you suggest with a playful glint in your eyes as you feel your breathing gradually returning to normal.

His expression shifts to one of surprise. “You want to swim? I’ll revert to my merman form then…”

You gently grasp his cheek, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze echoing your sincerity. “I love you, whether you’re in your merman or human form. I love all of you. And yes, I want to swim with you. You know how much I love being in the water.”

As he eases into your proximity, he nods, inching towards the water within the cave. With a mesmerizing display, a cascade of sparkle and glitter dances in the air as his legs seamlessly meld into a majestic purple tail. Your jaw drops, captivated once again by the breathtaking sight of his merman form, each time feeling like the first time you saw him like this.

He gracefully glides into the water with a splash, and you eagerly trail behind, tentative at first, dipping your toes into the cool embrace, then succumbing to the gentle caress that envelops your entire naked form.

You swim alongside him, venturing beyond the confines of the cave, out into the vast expanse of the open sea. The ocean stretches endlessly, meeting the horizon in a seamless blend of moonlit waves. Above, the sky is a tapestry of stars, each one twinkling like a promise of infinite possibilities. Though your house is a distant silhouette against the shore, it fades from your thoughts in the enchantment of this moment.

As you glide through the water beside him, the gentle rhythm of his tail occasionally breaking the surface with playful splashes, you find yourself drawn to the mystery of his world. “I’d love to see your home someday,” you say, the words carried away by the ocean breeze, mingling with the soft lullaby of the waves.

“Yeah. I know a witch that can turn you into a mermaid, if you really want to,” he says with a big smile on his face, his eyes sparkling with mischief as they meet your surprised gaze, mirroring your astonishment with his own excitement.

Your eyes widen with wonder— the thought of becoming a mermaid, a cherished childhood dream, suddenly within reach. “I’d love that,” you breathe, your voice filled with an intoxicating mix of excitement and disbelief, as if daring the universe to make this fantasy a reality.

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kingofbodyrolls · 2 months ago

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Deep Dive (m) | knj

You’ve been searching for gemstones deep on the seabed— having found a broken piece of blue aquamarine. Searching for the missing piece and your new rival, you find it and much more with the blue tailed merman Namjoon while on a quest for crystals.

→ Pairing: namjoon x reader (female) → AUs: mermaid!au, fantasy!au, magical!au, soulmate!au → Trope: strangers to lovers → Genres: fluff, smut, angst + a very small sprinkle of comedy → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 19.8k → Warnings (general) + triggers: not much, honestly it’s all very very fluffy, lovey dovey and cute (you’ll probably get a cavity). There’s also a lot more lore and worldbuilding in this one compared to the others, as this is the first time we’re properly introduced to the seacity🧜It’s also rather existential and philosophical. → Warnings (explicit): unprotected sex (please be safe), oral (male and female), multiple orgasms, dirty talk, love making, kissing, breast play (licking, sucking, biting), handjob, fingering, clit play, hair pulling, creampie, very brief cockwarming. → Read on AO3? [link] → Author’s note(1): I really don’t know what happened when writing this one; my fingers totally slipped and most of this is just world building 🫣 At least I had a shit ton of fun writing it! I tried to make the smut a bit different than I normally do, because I just feel like what I write is getting very repetitive… So I tried changing the pace of it a bit, but I don't know if it worked or not. Anyway, I really hope you like this one too, and I managed to finish it before Namjoon’s birthday, which means I’ll release it on that day 🥳 Please do let me know what, and if you liked it, and if you’re excited for the rest of the mermaid stories ✨

[s.masterlist] → this is part of a collection of series that are stand-alone one-shots, but all of them are set in the same universe. They are slightly connected though 🤭

The boat sways gently with the rhythm of the waves, each crest and trough sending a flutter through your stomach, a tantalizing whisper of the adventure awaiting below. The sea has always been your muse, its vast, enigmatic depths a sanctuary where you’ve carved out your own livelihood. As a freelance scuba diver, you descend into the ocean’s embrace, hunting for hidden treasures—crystals and gems, and occasionally, the rarest of finds. These treasures are not just artifacts; they are fragments of the earth’s ancient soul, preserved in the watery depths.

Hae, your best friend and partner in this aquatic quest, stands beside you, her hands steady as she helps you prepare for the dive. She runs a holistic and spiritual webshop called Soulful, a name that seems to capture the essence of her being—a blend of spirituality, sustainability, and an eye for the aesthetically divine. The gems and crystals you unearth find their way into her shop, where they are revered not just for their beauty, but for the energy they carry. The world has turned its gaze towards the mystical these days, and her shop has become a beacon for those seeking solace and healing in the arms of nature.

With your wetsuit snug against your skin, fins secured, and the weight of the oxygen tanks settling on your back, you feel the familiar thrill course through you. Hae hands you your goggles with a smile, and before placing the mouthpiece between your lips, you flash her a grin. “See you soon,” you say, voice laced with excitement. The small tool bag—your fanny pack of excavation tools—rests comfortably at your side, ready to assist in your quest for nature’s buried wonders.

You take a deep breath and plunge into the ocean, the water swallowing you with a resonant splash. As you breach the surface, your arms stretch forward, parting the water with a smooth, practiced motion. The ocean welcomes you, wrapping you in its cool, serene embrace. Here, beneath the waves, you are home, surrounded by the vibrant tapestry of sea life. Jellyfish drift by, their tendrils trailing like delicate threads of silk, while schools of tiny fish scatter at your approach, shimmering in the filtered sunlight that dances through the water. Deeper you dive, into the world where time slows, and the ocean whispers secrets long forgotten by the surface. The seafloor is a hidden gallery of nature’s artistry, where crystals and gems lie in wait, forged over eons by the earth’s elemental forces. Each one tells a story—of undersea volcanoes, tectonic pressures, and the alchemical dance of minerals. Hae often speaks of these gems as if they are living beings, infused with the spirit of the ocean itself, each one a relic of the deep’s quiet, patient creation.

You smile to yourself, recalling her poetic musings, almost as if you were reading straight from her website. But you know the truth behind the beauty—these crystals, formed through evaporation, precipitation, and the intricate dance of minerals, are more than just pretty stones. They are pieces of the earth’s heart, shaped by the hands of time and nature’s immense power. Sodium, magnesium, calcium, potassium—their chemical symphony plays out in each crystal, each gem a unique testament to the forces that birthed it.

To you, they are not just beautiful—they are a testament to the majesty of the natural world, a tangible link to the planet’s deep, unspoken history. Hae’s customers, too, are drawn to this connection, to the knowledge that each crystal was not mined en masse, but discovered and unearthed by your hands alone. This makes each piece not only ethically sourced but also one-of-a-kind, carrying with it a story that can never be replicated. And then, there’s the healing. The myriad of spiritual properties attributed to these gems opens another world entirely, one that you and Hae have only begun to explore. It’s a world where science and spirituality entwine, where the physical and the metaphysical dance in harmony. But for now, as you dive deeper into the ocean’s embrace, you’re content to simply marvel at nature’s handiwork, knowing that whatever treasures you find will carry a piece of this underwater realm back to the surface.

A glint catches your eye in the distance, a shimmer that pulls you deeper into the ocean’s embrace. You’ve lost track of how far you’ve dived—perhaps just a few meters, or maybe more. Time seems to stretch and compress down here, as fluid as the water around you. A quick glance at your watch reveals that only ten minutes have passed, but you know you must be mindful of the oxygen left in your tank. Still, the ocean’s siren call urges you onward, tempting you with secrets yet to be unveiled.

Something blue sparkles ahead, its brilliance cutting through the murky depths, and you find yourself drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Your body moves with the fluidity of the water, each motion a dance of instinct and harmony. Down here, you’re not just an explorer—you’re a part of the ocean itself, swaying gently in time with the currents. The source of the light reveals itself as you approach a small rock formation, where gems of varying shades of blue glisten like forgotten stars scattered across the ocean floor. Aquamarine, calcite, and amazonite—Hae’s voice echoes in your mind, recalling the knowledge she’s shared with you. Aquamarine, the “Sea Water Stone,” born from the cooling magma of the earth’s depths, its color an echo of the ocean’s own hues. It’s a stone that calms the mind, eases stress, and sharpens communication, a talisman of courage and clarity. Blue calcite, a crystal forged from calcium, carbon, and oxygen, soothes like a lullaby, its gentle presence calming nerves and quieting anxieties. It also opens the mind’s eye, enhancing intuition and inner vision. And then there’s amazonite, a gem you’ve always favored. Its cool blue-green tones speak to your soul, a “Stone of Courage” that promotes truth, honor, and positive communication. It balances the masculine and feminine energies within, weaving harmony into the fabric of life. You reach out, your fingers brushing the rough texture of the rock, marveling at the beauty before you.

Carefully, you pull out your tools—a smooth flat file and a soft silicone hammer—and begin to work. The gems yield to your skillful hands, and soon, you’ve gathered a small collection of aquamarine, blue calcite, and amazonite, each piece a perfect reflection of the ocean’s quiet majesty. You tuck them safely into your bag, their weight a comforting presence at your side.

But the ocean isn’t done with you yet. You swim further, your eyes scanning the seabed where kelp and other sea plants sway like ethereal dancers. A small cave catches your attention, its entrance barely large enough to accommodate you, but you’re compelled to explore. You squeeze through the narrow opening, and the sight that greets you steals your breath away.

Before you lies a treasure trove of green crystals, their surfaces shimmering like serpent scales. Serpentine—Hae has spoken of this gem, formed deep within the Earth’s mantle by the transformation of silicate minerals through water. This is your first time finding it, and you can’t help but marvel at its beauty, the green hues reminiscent of a forest hidden beneath the waves. You run your fingers over the rough surface, feeling the ancient energy thrumming within the stone. Carefully, you chip away a few pieces, their weight adding to the growing collection in your bag.

But the bag is heavy now, laden with the ocean’s gifts, and a glance at your watch tells you it’s time to return. With a reluctant sigh, you leave the cave behind, swimming back toward the surface, your heart still lingering in the depths. As you break through the water, the sunlight dazzles your eyes, and Hae is there, her hands reaching out to help you back onto the boat. The weight of your gear is a burden you’re glad to shed, and you push the bag toward her, eager to share your discoveries.

“Wow!” she exclaims, her eyes wide with wonder as she sifts through the gems. “You really found a lot—and serpentine? You’ve never found that before. My customers are going to be over the moon!”

Her excitement is infectious, and you can’t help but smile. “That makes it all worth it,” you say, pulling off your hydro fin shoes with a satisfied sigh. “But I’m keeping one piece of serpentine for myself—it’s too beautiful to part with.”

Hae nods, still mesmerized by the treasures you’ve brought to the surface. The joy in her eyes is a reflection of your own, and you feel a deep contentment settle over you. The ocean has shared its secrets with you once again, and as you breathe in the fresh air, you know that the bond you share with the sea is stronger than ever.

You sail home under the setting sun, the ocean’s breeze carrying with it the scent of salt and adventure. The rhythmic lapping of the waves against the boat lulls you into a state of serene satisfaction. Back on land, you join Hae in her cozy apartment, where the warmth of the evening light filters through the windows. Her small photo studio, a creative sanctuary tucked into a corner, is ready for the treasures you’ve unearthed. Together, you arrange the crystals with care, each one glistening like a piece of the ocean’s soul captured in stone. The camera clicks, preserving the gems’ beauty for the world to see, as Hae’s artistic eye transforms them into visions of wonder. The process is swift but meaningful, a quiet ritual that binds your shared passions. Soon, the crystals will grace her webshop, ready to bring a touch of the sea’s magic to those who seek it.

“This collection is huge, Namjoon,” Hoseok remarks with a warm smile, his gaze sweeping over the shimmering array of gems that adorn the older merman’s room. “There’s so much history embedded in these walls,” he adds, pointing to the meticulously arranged stones, and Namjoon feels a flush of pride rise to his cheeks. He’s poured countless hours into curating this collection, each gem—some calcite, larimar, jasper, peridotite, amazonite, and serpentine—bearing the weight of time and the ocean’s secrets.

Yoongi casts a sidelong glance at Namjoon and his prized collection, murmuring with a wry grin, “It’s impressive... but also incredibly dorky.”

Hoseok bursts into laughter, his joy so radiant that for a moment, Namjoon thinks they don’t need the sun in their underwater world—Hoseok’s light is enough to illuminate the depths.

“I’m not a dork,” Namjoon protests, crossing his arms over his bare torso in an attempt to feign indignation, but his stern expression does little to sway the younger mermen. Their laughter echoes through the water, a melody of friendship that only strengthens the bond between them.

“Nerd, then,” Hoseok offers through another burst of laughter, his voice rippling through the water like bubbles rising to the surface. Yoongi, ever the skeptic, merely rolls his eyes, already weary of the conversation. Namjoon can sense that Yoongi’s thoughts have drifted elsewhere—likely back to his bed, where he longs to sleep away the rest of the day. But Namjoon’s heart beats with a different rhythm, one that craves adventure. He usually embarks on treasure swims with his friend Soo-ah, but she’s preoccupied with her fiancé, Seokjin, as they prepare for their upcoming wedding.

Namjoon casts a glance at his friends, hoping they’ll soon take their leave so he can slip away into the inviting embrace of the sea. The room feels too small for his restless spirit, and the ocean beyond the walls calls to him like a siren’s song. He had initially invited them over for their monthly book club, but the gathering has devolved into something else entirely—Hoseok couldn’t stop laughing at the protagonist’s ridiculous misadventures, and Yoongi, true to form, had forgotten to read the book altogether. The story, plucked from the land above, strikes Hoseok as particularly odd and amusing, especially since he’s never set foot on land himself.

“Book club’s over, right?” Yoongi asks with a resigned sigh, his voice heavy with fatigue, as if the very mention of reading has drained him further.

“Yeah, but do try to read the next book for next month,” Namjoon chides gently, though he knows his words will likely fall on deaf ears. Yoongi merely shrugs, not even bothering to pick up the worn book as he drifts toward the door. Namjoon watches them go, rolling his eyes as Hoseok flashes him a soft smile and a thumbs-up before they swim off to their respective homes.

As their laughter fades into the distance, Namjoon finally feels the freedom to pursue the adventure that has been stirring within him all day. The sea awaits, vast and full of mysteries, and he is eager to explore its depths once more.

Namjoon exhales a deep sigh, the weight of his thoughts momentarily heavy, but he renews his energy by nibbling on some fresh kelp. The taste is crisp and briny, filling him with the vitality he needs for the journey ahead. With a determined glint in his eye, he slings his backpack over his shoulder and sets off on his adventure. The sea has always been his home, its vast expanse a comforting embrace. His parents, both scholars dedicated to preserving the rich history of their underwater city, have instilled in him a love for the past. But while they focus on teaching the young minds of the city, Namjoon’s heart has always been drawn to the secrets hidden within the earth—gems and stones that hold their own silent histories.

He propels himself forward, his baby blue tail cutting through the water with graceful precision. As he gathers speed, the fish scatter in a dazzling display, their scales catching the light as they dart away. The underwater world rushes past in a vibrant blur of color, until something shimmering in the distance catches his eye.

Ahead, perched on a rock formation, are gleaming clusters of calcite and aquamarine, their surfaces dancing with the light that filters through the water. The sun’s rays, fractured by the waves above, cast a spectrum of blues across the gems, making them shimmer like the sky at twilight. Namjoon’s breath catches in his throat, as it always does when faced with such natural beauty. Each gem is a masterpiece of time and pressure, a testament to the earth’s patient artistry. He reaches out, reverently running his fingers over the cool, smooth surfaces, feeling the ancient energy thrumming within them.

He pulls out his tools, careful not to disturb the surrounding environment, and begins to collect a few of the precious stones. As he works, he remembers Soo-ah and selects a particularly radiant piece to bring back to her, a token of their shared love for the ocean’s treasures.

But his heart skips a beat when he notices something unsettling—many of the gems have already been harvested, leaving only a few scattered remnants behind. A frown creases his brow as he wonders who could have beaten him to this spot. None of his friends share his passion for collecting gems. Sure, Taehyung enjoys gathering trinkets and curiosities, but stones have never been his interest. The thought of another collector in these waters feels strangely alien, a mystery that tugs at the edges of his mind.

Who else, he wonders, could be drawn to these underwater treasures with the same fervor that drives him?

You find yourself submerged once more, the embrace of the ocean welcoming you into its depths as you embark on yet another treasure hunt, eager to unearth new crystals. Your path leads you back to the familiar cave where you previously discovered the serpentine and calcite, their beauty still vivid in your memory. Yet, something feels different this time—there are fewer crystals adorning the rock formation and scattered across the seabed. The ocean’s depths, a canvas for nature’s exquisite artistry, have always been a sanctuary for the many fascinating crystals that dwell there. But you’ve never encountered another diver who collects them as passionately as you do. The realization leaves you momentarily puzzled, until a flicker of purple catches your eye in the distance.

Intrigued, you glide through the water with graceful urgency, approaching the new discovery. As you draw closer, you recognize the delicate gray and rose-hued crystals as lepidolite, known for its ability to enhance astral travel and lucid dreaming. You’ve rarely come across these gems in your dives, and even now, only a few precious stones cling to the rock formation. Carefully, you retrieve your tools and begin to collect the lepidolite, tucking each piece into your bag with a sense of reverence.

Continuing along the seabed, you pass by schools of vibrant fish, their colors a blur of life around you, until something extraordinary catches your attention—massive aquamarine crystals, far larger than any you’ve ever seen before. They seem to pulse with a quiet energy, drawing you in with their mesmerizing blue hue. As you approach with a gentle hand, you feel an inexplicable connection to the gems, as if they are whispering tales of the ocean’s mysteries and the magnificence of the world beneath the waves.

Gingerly, you touch the aquamarines, and a surge of calm washes over you, a tranquility deeper than anything you’ve ever experienced. The sensation is strange, yet profoundly soothing, as if the ocean itself is sharing its serenity with you.

Taking your time, you inspect the crystals, standing tall on a rocky pedestal surrounded by pink sea bushes and kelp that sways in the water’s current. A few curious fish glide by as you carefully chip away at the base of the crystal, hoping to extract a substantial piece. When you finally succeed, you notice something peculiar—the crystal’s twin, the piece that once stood beside it, is missing. The jagged edge where it was removed is unmistakable. The question lingers in your mind, unsettling and persistent: Who has taken the other piece?

As you wonder who else might be drawn to the allure of these hidden gems, your hands continue their careful work, collecting a few more of the larger pieces, along with several smaller ones. You know that the smaller stones, though modest in size, still carry the same potent energy as their grander counterparts, and some people cherish them all the more for their delicate beauty. Each crystal, whether large or small, holds within it the ocean’s quiet wisdom, waiting to be shared.

Gently, you tuck the treasures into your bag, the weight of them a comforting reminder of the sea’s generosity. With a final, lingering glance at the shimmering aquamarines, you propel yourself upward, your body moving effortlessly through the water’s embrace. As you break through the surface, the world above greets you with a rush of air and sunlight. Hae is there, her arms open wide, her smile as warm as the sun. She helps you back into the boat, her touch gentle and reassuring, as if she understands the wonders you’ve just encountered below.

Once you’re back in the boat, the weight of your gear feels heavier than ever as you remove it, but your heart is light with the excitement of your discoveries. You eagerly reveal your treasures to Hae, each crystal glinting in the sunlight as you lay them before her. With a grin, you hold up the largest aquamarine, its cool blue depths mirroring the ocean below. “This one’s mine,” you declare, the gem feeling like a piece of the sea itself in your hand. But then your tone grows more serious as you add, “I think there’s another diver out there collecting gems. So many were missing from the formation.”

Hae’s eyes widen, her smile fading into a look of concern. You can almost see the wheels turning in her mind, already strategizing, perhaps even considering whether it’s time to move to a new, more secluded spot. The thought of competition makes her uneasy, her gaze drifting over the precious stones as if they might vanish any moment.

Sensing her anxiety, you place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry,” you say with quiet confidence. “I’ll dig around, find out who it is. We’ve come too far to let this unsettle us.” Your words are meant to calm her, to remind her that together, you’ve weathered challenges before. After all, her webshop, with its unique blend of spirituality and sustainability, has always stood out in a sea of imitators.

Hae exhales softly, her tension easing as she meets your gaze. “Okay, thank you,” she murmurs, her hands gently gathering the remaining crystals, leaving you with your cherished aquamarine. The stone gleams in your palm, a symbol of the bond between you and the sea, and now, a silent vow to protect what you’ve both worked so hard to build.

The pull of the ocean is undeniable, a quiet voice in the depths of your soul that beckons you toward the gem, as if it carries the very essence of the sea within its crystalline heart. You know instantly that this piece belongs by your side, a reminder of the ocean’s mysteries and your bond with its vast, hidden world. The sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the water as you sail back to shore, the quiet lapping of waves a soothing lullaby.

Returning to your apartment, you flick on the light, the familiar space bathed in a soft glow as you carefully place your ocean gift on the nightstand beside your bed. The gem catches the light, its surface shimmering like the sea at dawn. With a contented sigh, you brush your teeth, the routine grounding you after the day’s adventure. But as you lay in bed, your mind drifts back to the ocean, and sleep comes quickly, filled with dreams of underwater realms and the treasures that lie beneath.

Yet, even in sleep, a question nags at you. For days, the mystery has lingered in your thoughts—who could be venturing into the depths to collect gems alongside you? Your research has led you nowhere, each inquiry a dead end. No diver you know is as daring, or perhaps as mad, as you, willing to plunge into the ocean’s deepest reaches. The puzzle gnaws at you, an itch you can’t quite scratch, and the frustration builds like a storm on the horizon. It feels as if the answer is just out of reach, hidden beneath the waves, and the more you dwell on it, the more it drives you to the edge of your patience, a riddle you are desperate to unravel.

Driven by a spark of determination, you’ve hatched a bold plan—to dive back into the depths and catch the mysterious intruder who’s been claiming your precious gems. Hae thinks it’s a dumb idea, but she indulges you, knowing your spirit is as restless as the ocean itself. And so, once again, you find yourself out on the boat, with Hae in the vast expanse of the ocean under the midday sun. The boat sways gently, a rhythmic dance on the water’s surface as you methodically pull on your gear—your oxygen tanks, goggles, and hydro fins. The final touch is your backpack, securely fastened to the tank, ready to hold whatever treasures you might uncover.

With purpose in your heart and a steely resolve, you press your arms together and plunge into the ocean’s embrace. The world above fades away as you descend into the deep, your body slicing through the water with graceful determination. Thoughts of the smaller boats you saw earlier linger in your mind, fueling your hope that this dive will lead you to your elusive rival.

As you dive deeper, the current cradles you, guiding your body as you sway with the ocean’s rhythm, until you reach the seabed. The familiar terrain unfolds before you, a place you’ve visited many times, yet now it feels different, touched by the presence of another. Only a few small gems remain, their glint a reminder of what’s been taken. You scan your surroundings—kelp sways like dancers in the current, fish dart about in a symphony of colors—but no sign of competition yet.

Undeterred, you press on, swimming further along the seabed, following the contours of rocky formations. Your heart quickens as you reach a familiar spot, the place where you once unearthed a magnificent aquamarine. But as you approach, your breath catches—the rock’s surface is nearly barren, the aquamarine all but vanished, save for a few remaining shards that catch the light. Your fingers hover over the stone, tracing the empty space where the gems once gleamed, now a haunting reminder of what’s been lost to unseen hands.

A sudden jolt, like a spark of electricity, tingles through your fingertips, and before you can react, a blur of blue fills your vision, distorting the world around you. You blink rapidly, trying to clear the haze, but it remains—an ethereal presence in the water. Then, you feel a light, almost playful poke against your cheek, and a startled scream escapes into your mouthpiece, sending a cascade of bubbles spiraling upwards.

Instinctively, you jerk backward, heart pounding, as you struggle to comprehend what’s before you. No—this can’t be real. It’s not another diver. It’s not even human.

In front of you, suspended in the water like a living dream, is a merman. His face, heart-shaped and adorned with eyes like dragon-like darkened amber, is framed by short, blue hair that floats gently around his soft cheeks, jawline and pointed chin. Thin soft eyebrows arch over those wide, curious eyes—eyes that seem to hold all the wonder of the deep. His lips, thick and juicy are slightly parted in a soft ‘o,’ convey a mix of curiosity and surprise. Your gaze travels over his tall frame down to his bare chest, lean and strong, and then to the tail—an iridescent baby blue, shimmering with every subtle movement, a perfect extension of the ocean’s beauty.

A wiggling tail instead of legs.

You blink again, desperate to make sense of the vision before you. A merman… It has to be.

He drifts closer, his tail flicking gracefully as he reaches out to poke your chin once more, his voice resonating through the water with an almost melodic quality. “Are you human?” he asks, his tone gentle yet filled with the wonder of a child discovering something new.

Your mind races, and you nod frantically, unable to speak with the mouthpiece still in your mouth, your feet paddling in the water as you fight to steady yourself. The reality of the moment crashes over you like a wave—this is no fantasy. A merman is right in front of you.

As your gaze falls on the backpack strapped to his shoulders, you notice a subtle shimmer, a gleam of something precious. In that instant, the pieces fall into place—he’s the one. He’s the mysterious collector, your unexpected rival in this underwater hunt for gems.

“I’ve seen humans before,” he continues, his voice carrying an almost casual tone as he swims around you, studying you like a creature from another world, “but I’ve never seen one dressed like you.”

Your heart aches to respond, to ask a million questions, but with the mouthpiece in place, all you can do is let him circle you, his eyes filled with an innocent fascination. The silence between you is heavy with unspoken words, each glance exchanged like a whispered secret between the ocean and the sun.

As you take in the sight before you, your eyes are drawn to a necklace resting against his chest, the small piece of aquamarine nestled between the firm contours of his titties—chest, you mean chest! The gem, cradled in the hollow where his muscles meet, glimmers softly, almost as if it’s alive with the very essence of the sea. You can’t help but stare in awe, the allure of it tugging at something deep within you. Thank heavens for your goggles, masking the blush that would otherwise give away your wandering thoughts.

“You look funny,” he remarks, his voice laced with innocent curiosity as he reaches out to grab one of your hydro fin shoes. The unexpected touch throws you off balance, and for a moment, you find yourself flipping weightlessly in the water, your body twisting like a leaf caught in a gentle current.

“Is this supposed to be like a mermaid’s tail?” he asks, holding your foot aloft as though it were some ancient relic to be deciphered. His brow furrows in concentration, and you can’t help but feel a mix of amusement and bewilderment at the sight.

Instinctively, you jerk your foot back, breaking free from his grasp, and you push against the water with frantic kicks, a glance at your watch reminding you that time is running out. As much as you wish to linger here, captivated by the merman’s presence, the pressing need to return to the surface propels you upward.

“Hey! Where’re you going?” he calls after you, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation, but you’re already too focused on reaching the surface to notice the distress in his expression. The thought of what could happen if you don’t make it in time isn’t one you’re willing to entertain.

Breaking through the water’s surface, you take off the mouthpiece and gulp in fresh air, scanning the horizon until you spot your boat, a distant speck where Hae waits, the other vessels having long since disappeared. It seems manageable, this swim back to the boat, as long as you stay above water—your oxygen tank now empty, its weight a reminder of how close you cut it.

But before you can begin the swim, something solid collides with you, stopping you in your tracks. “Ow,” you exclaim, startled as you float backward, only to find yourself face to face with a familiar figure, his blue hair dripping wet above the waves.

“Hi,” the merman says with a smile, his dimples appearing like little pools of light in the sun. The simple word carries a warmth that catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re lost in the easy charm of his grin, the ocean around you feeling suddenly smaller, as if it were just the two of you in this vast, endless world.

“Hi,” you greet him with a soft smile, still astonished that he followed you to the surface at all. A swirl of unspoken questions rises in your chest, but they tangle in your throat, leaving you staring at him, wide-eyed and speechless. The world seems to blur, save for the merman before you, his wet blue hair plastered against his forehead, his dragon-like eyes sweeping over you with a curious intensity, as if he’s memorizing every detail.

“What’s all that stuff you’ve got on?” he asks, pointing a slender finger at your goggles and then at the oxygen tanks strapped securely to your back.

“These?” you say, finding your voice as you point to your goggles. “They help me see underwater,” you pause, feeling the weight of the tanks pulling at your shoulders, “And these let me breathe while I dive—they hold the oxygen I need when I’m down there.” You gesture to the tanks behind you, your explanation feeling small in the face of his wide, unblinking curiosity.

He hums thoughtfully, nodding as if piecing together a puzzle. “Makes sense,” he says at last, though his gaze strays past you, catching sight of Hae waving from the boat that rocks gently on the surface, her silhouette framed by the scorching sun.

“I... I have to get back,” you mumble, pointing toward your friend, the words feeling heavy as they leave your lips. You try to steady your thoughts, but they swirl like the currents beneath the sea, a thousand questions dancing just beneath the surface, questions you don’t quite dare to voice.

“Okay,” he says, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—hesitation, perhaps. “But before you go…” His voice halts your movements, drawing you back to him like the pull of the tide. You turn toward him again, heart fluttering in the quiet space between you, as if the ocean itself is holding its breath, waiting to see what comes next.

“What’s your name?” His voice is soft, carrying a gentleness that ripples through the water.

“It’s ___,” you reply, offering him a smile that’s both shy and warm.

“That’s pretty,” he says, and when his lips part into a smile, his dimples carve deep into his cheeks, making him almost impossibly cute, but dangerously so.

“I’m Namjoon.”

His name lingers between you like a secret, sweet and mysterious. “Will I see you again?” he asks, tilting his head slightly, his brow raised in curious hope.

You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face, the warmth filling your chest. There’s something about him—this enchanting creature of the deep—that makes you feel drawn in, like the tide itself is pulling you closer. You nod, the joy bubbling up inside you as you answer, “See you later, Namjoon.” There’s more than one reason you want to see him again. The unspoken questions whirl in your mind, but there’s also the thrill—because maybe, just maybe, you want to get your hands on the best crystals before he does.

As you turn and swim back toward Hae, your thoughts a mess of wonder and disbelief, a blush warms your cheeks. Did you just make a date with a merman? The thought sends a tingle of excitement through you. But when you glance back to where he was, Namjoon is already gone, having disappeared beneath the shimmering surface, like a dream fading with the dawn.

You finally make it to the boat, the sun still hanging high, bathing everything in golden light. As Hae helps you out of the water and hands you a towel, her eyes are wide with confusion. “Who was that? And how did he just vanish into the water like that, without any diving gear?”

“A merman,” you pant, peeling off your oxygen tanks and goggles. The words slip out of your mouth so naturally, like it’s something you’d say every day. Not the revelation of a magical creature, but a simple truth.

Hae stares at you, eyes nearly bulging from their sockets. “I’m sorry, what?”

“A merman,” you repeat, more firmly this time.

“A merman?” she echoes, her voice faint and incredulous, as if the very idea is too fantastical to grasp.

“Yes. A goddamn merman,” you say, grinning wide as you meet her disbelieving gaze. “Scaly tail and all.” And then the absurdity of it all hits you, and before you know it, you’re laughing—a bright, bubbling sound that lifts the tension from your chest.

Hae blinks, her mind racing to catch up with the truth you’ve laid before her. When she finally does, her gaze shifts to the shimmering crystals you’ve collected, and without another word, she turns the boat towards home, lost in thought as the ocean waves lap against the sides. And all you can do is sit there, the excitement of your encounter buzzing through your veins, as you wonder about the next time you’ll meet Namjoon beneath the waves.

The next time you set sail, the open sea stretching endlessly before you, a current of giddy anticipation courses through your veins. Thoughts of the blue-haired merman, Namjoon, fill your mind, sparking excitement deep within your chest. Will he be there today, waiting beneath the waves? You wish you could speak with him underwater, to ask him the thousand questions swirling in your heart, but the surface would have to do for now. You can’t help but smile at the thought of seeing him again.

Hae steers the boat through the shimmering water, the horizon vast and infinite. As you slip on your gear and dive beneath the surface, the ocean’s cool embrace pulls you into its depths. You swim purposefully, eyes scanning the underwater world, searching for both gems and a glimpse of Namjoon.

Suddenly, something blue catches your eye, sparkling in the distance. Your pulse quickens as you think, just for a moment, that it might be him. But as you swim closer, your heart sinks—it’s only a cluster of aquamarine, glittering like pieces of fallen sky. You feel a bit foolish, letting your hopes get the better of you. Shaking off the disappointment, you turn your attention to the task at hand, collecting the gems with careful precision, though your thoughts continue to drift back to the mysterious merman.

You move to a new spot, finding a hidden cave adorned with larimar crystals. The stones are breathtaking—swirls of blue, white, and gray blending like waves crashing upon a shore, smooth and radiant. The sight brings a smile to your face, the beauty of the moment settling into your heart. You gently gather some of the crystals, placing them in your bag with reverence, as if each one carries a secret.

Just as you’re about to leave the cave, a shadow falls across the entrance. Your heart skips a beat, startled by the sudden presence. But then, the familiar voice reaches your ears, warm and apologetic, and you see him—Namjoon, his figure filling the space, his smile soft and full of quiet charm.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, his hand nervously scratching the back of his head, his eyes filled with a gentle sincerity.

Relief washes over you, and with a playful wave of your hands, you signal that it’s okay—that he needn’t worry. How you wish you could speak to him down here, let your words float freely in the water like the bubbles escaping from your gear. But for now, your gestures will have to suffice. Your smile says the rest—you’re just glad to see him again.

“You’re collecting crystals, right?” Namjoon asks, his voice cutting through the liquid silence as he gestures toward your already bulging bag. You nod in response, still catching your breath from the weight of the gems you’ve gathered.

“Do you want me to show you a cave with lepidolite?” he mumbles, his tone casual but a bit uncertain. “They’re pretty rare, but I know of a cave that’s full of them.” For a fleeting moment, you wonder if this is the ocean’s version of Netflix and chill, the awkwardness of the offer landing with the charm of a bad pickup line. You can’t help but smile at the thought.

Still, you nod, knowing that Hae would be thrilled to get her hands on more lepidolite, and besides, you’re curious. You figure underwater Netflix and chill is a bit different from what you’re used to anyway.

Namjoon leads the way, his brilliant blue tail weaving effortlessly through the water, shimmering like sunlight caught in a sapphire. You trail behind him, captivated by the rhythmic sway of his form, the way his muscles ripple across his broad back like waves sculpted by some divine hand. You can’t help but wonder—do they even have gyms down here? The sight of him, so fluid and powerful, is mesmerizing, and before you know it, time seems to slip away, your focus narrowing to the subtle dance of his movements.

“This is the cave,” he suddenly announces, pulling you out of your reverie. You hadn’t realized just how long you’d been swimming, utterly absorbed by the quiet beauty of the journey and him.

You follow him inside, and the sight that greets you takes your breath away—deep violet lepidolite, sparkling in the dim light like stars scattered across a twilight sky. You’re awestruck by the sheer abundance, the rare gems nestled into the cave walls as if nature had painted this secret world just for you.

“Beautiful, right?” Namjoon giggles softly, his voice echoing gently through the cavern as you nod, too taken by the sight to speak. You pull out your tools, carefully beginning to gather the precious stones, all while feeling the warmth of his gaze lingering on you. His silent watchfulness stirs a strange flustered feeling inside, like he’s studying you with the same intensity you’ve used to admire him.

Once your bag is heavy with lepidolite, Namjoon takes you on a quiet tour of other hidden gem spots. Each place he shows you feels like a secret whispered by the ocean itself, and soon your collection grows so large that the weight of it tugs at you, as if the sea itself is trying to pull you back down. When Namjoon offers to carry your bag, you try to refuse at first, clinging to your independence. But as your arms grow heavy, you relent, watching in awe as he effortlessly takes your overloaded bag, slinging it across his broad frame with ease. He carries it as though the weight is nothing, his strength as graceful as the tides themselves.

With a raised arm, you gesture that it’s time to surface—your oxygen running low, the familiar ache of needing air settling into your chest. He seems to understand immediately, and together you ascend, the world around you turning brighter as you rise toward the surface.

Breaking through the water, you gasp in the fresh air, peeling off your goggles and mouthpiece, eager to speak to him in the open air. Namjoon surfaces beside you, droplets clinging to his skin as the sun catches the water in his hair, casting a shimmering halo around his smiling face.

“We should do this again,” he says, his voice warm and full of excitement. “Wasn’t it fun?”

“It really was,” you reply with a smile, your heart still buzzing from the underwater adventure. “Thank you for showing me all those caves. My friend, Hae, is going to be over the moon,” you say, casting a glance toward the boat swaying gently in the distance.

“That’s great to hear,” Namjoon replies, his voice as smooth as the rippling waves.

A flicker of frustration tugs at your chest, and you bite your lip. “I just wish I could talk to you down there,” you admit, your words heavy with a longing that feels both simple and profound.

“It would be nice, yeah,” he muses, his soft smile brightened by the sunlight. “But I don’t mind coming up here to talk. I like the air up here too,” he adds with a gentle chuckle, his gaze warm and steady.

“I have so many questions,” you blurt out, the words escaping you before you can hold them back. There’s too much wonder bottled up inside you, too much curiosity, and it needs to spill over.

Namjoon laughs, a sound so genuine it feels like sunlight breaking through clouds. “Shoot,” he says, his dimples deepening like two small whirlpools at the corners of his mouth.

You pause, your mind swimming with possibilities, before settling on the most obvious. “Are you the only merman, or… are there more of you?” you ask, your voice tinged with awe.

“There are more,” he says with pride, his chest lifting slightly. “There’s a whole city beneath the sea—Naraeum, where we live.” His eyes gleam with the pride of someone who belongs to something ancient and wondrous.

A thrill runs through you at the revelation. An entire city of merfolk hidden beneath the waves. The thought makes your pulse quicken, the realization that you’ve stumbled upon something so extraordinary, so secret, that few on the surface could even imagine it. You feel as if you’ve been let in on the universe’s greatest mystery, and it fills you with a giddy excitement that hums like electricity in your veins.

“Are there cities or kingdoms beneath the waves? What are they like?” you ask, your voice soft with curiosity, eager to glimpse the world he calls home.

Namjoon’s eyes light up with a quiet pride. “Naraeum is a vast kingdom,” he begins, his words gentle yet full of wonder. “There’s pink coral stretching as far as the eye can see, ancient golden buildings weathered by time, and bright green kelp that sways like dancers in the currents. Dark caves hide beneath the surface, teeming with life—fish, crabs, creatures of every kind. And at night, everything glows with bioluminescent light, turning the ocean into a dreamscape.” A faint blush rises on his cheeks as he adds, “Maybe I can show you one day.”

Your breath catches in your throat, the thought of seeing an underwater kingdom beyond anything you’ve ever imagined. “That sounds unbelievable. I’d love to see Naraeum,” you say, barely able to contain the excitement bubbling within you. The idea of diving so deep, into a world untouched by human hands, feels too surreal to grasp.

“There are other cities too,” Namjoon continues, a smile tugging at his lips. “Some are smaller, some are larger, but Naraeum is like the heart of our region, the capital of sorts,” he adds, the pride in his voice unmistakable.

Your mind whirls with possibilities, questions tumbling out before you can stop them. “Do you have art? Music? Stories? How do you create them underwater?”

Namjoon laughs, a full-bodied sound that echoes across the waves. “We do,” he replies with a sparkle in his eyes. “Human books, for one—we’ve learned to preserve them so they don’t dissolve. Otherwise, we etch our stories on stone, carving our history into the bones of the sea. For music, we use instruments that echo your drums, flutes, and strings, but they’re crafted from merfolk hair, delicate yet strong.”

He pauses, a wistful look crossing his face. “Naraeum is ancient, filled with art and stories older than any of us. But,” he adds, adjusting the heavy bag on his back, “I fear I don’t have enough time to share them all right now. This bag,” he says with a light grin, “is starting to weigh me down.”

“Oh right, the bag!” you exclaim, snapping back to reality as a wave of panic ripples through you. You mentally scold yourself for letting the moment sweep you away, your feet kicking gently against the water as you make your way toward the boat. Namjoon swims by your side, effortlessly graceful, his shimmering tail flickering beneath the surface.

Hae is there, waiting with a patient smile, and as she pulls you aboard, you reach out to take the heavy bag from Namjoon’s hands. “Thank you so much,” you say, a warm smile spreading across your face despite the unspoken whirlpool of questions still swirling in your mind. You wish you could ask him everything, but those wonders will have to wait.

“It’s no trouble at all,” Namjoon replies, his voice soft like the lull of the ocean. His own smile is tender, a quiet acknowledgment that leaves you feeling light despite the weight of the bag.

Hae chimes in with a grin, “So, you’re the famous merman,” she teases, still a little wide-eyed as Namjoon flashes his bright blue tail above the surface, the sight leaving her speechless. The tail vanishes just as quickly, a flicker of the magic below.

“I’ll have to go now,” Namjoon says, his voice carrying a gentle farewell as he begins to swim backward, his gaze lingering on yours. “But I’ll see you again soon, ___.”

A blush creeps up your cheeks, and despite yourself, you smile and wave, heart fluttering in a way that’s both exhilarating and unsettling. You watch him dip beneath the waves, his form disappearing into the deep blue, leaving the water still and the air quiet.

Hae turns to you with a knowing look. “You’ve got a crush on the merman, don’t you?”

You can’t deny the warmth spreading through you, but you push the thought aside, the reality of it sinking in. He’s a merman. You’re human. It feels impossible, like something from a dream. But maybe—just maybe—being friends isn’t out of reach. Friends, you think, as if convincing yourself. That can’t hurt... right?

In the following weeks, you find yourself swept into a world beyond imagination—each adventure with Namjoon feels like diving into a storybook of magic and wonder. He takes you to hidden underwater realms where gems glimmer like stars, and schools of fish, dolphins, and whales glide by as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. It’s as though the ocean has opened up just for you, revealing its secrets with every dive. The more time you spend with him, the stronger your heart tugs, pulling you deeper into your feelings. You try, futilely, to convince yourself you’re just friends, but every shared laugh, every meaningful glance, makes that harder to believe.

Namjoon is an incredible friend, one who listens to your ramblings with genuine interest. His conversation is as vast and deep as the ocean itself, leading you into existential tangents that leave you pondering life and its mysteries long after the talks are over. You wish for more—there’s an ache that grows inside you—but how could that even be possible? He’s a merman, you’re human. It feels like some impossible fairy tale. Yet, you’ve caught him stealing glances, his cheeks tinged with blush, and sometimes he gazes at you with an intensity that makes your heart flutter in ways you can’t ignore. But does that mean anything? How do merfolk even love? You wonder if their hearts beat the same as yours.

One quiet afternoon, as you sit with the sun lazily dipping below the horizon on the boat, you find yourself asking the question that’s been gnawing at your mind. “Are there any consequences if a merman falls in love with a human?” The words tumble out before you can stop them.

Namjoon, floating beside the boat, nearly chokes on the beer you brought him, his laughter turning into a cough as he searches for air. When he finally speaks, his voice is quieter, more careful. “There aren’t really... any consequences,” he murmurs, the tips of his ears turning pink. His eyes flicker nervously to your lips, then meet your eyes again, a quiet vulnerability swimming in their depths.

Good to know, you think, your heart skipping a beat. But before the blush overtakes you, you scramble to change the subject, your curiosity pulling you in another direction. “Is there magic in the ocean, like the old legends say? Can you control it?”

He laughs softly, the sound like the ebb and flow of waves. “There is magic, but no, I can’t control it. None of us can. There’s a Sea Witch, though—she’s the only one with that kind of power, as far as I know.” His words are laced with mystery, and your mind spins with possibilities.

“Can merfolk live forever?” you ask, half-dreaming of a life that stretches beyond the boundaries of time.

“Yes and no,” he replies, his voice thoughtful. “We can live for so long it feels like forever, but we’re not truly immortal.” His gaze drifts across the water, as if pondering the weight of time itself.

“Interesting,” you murmur, your thoughts swirling. “What happens when a merperson dies, then? Is there an afterlife?”

Namjoon’s smile is wistful as he explains, “When a merperson dies, we hold a celebration—a spiritual send-off, really. There’s singing, dancing, it’s more of a party than a funeral. We celebrate their journey into the afterlife.” You must look puzzled because he quickly adds, “In the afterlife, we become ghosts. But if friends and family don’t send you off properly, there’s a chance the spirit might come back to haunt them.” He chuckles lightly, and you gasp, wide-eyed at the thought.

A cool breeze dances over the water, and for a moment, the world feels suspended between reality and the dreamlike expanse of the sea. You sit there, awed by the depth of his world, your heart both heavy with questions and light with wonder. And in that moment, despite the impossible distance between your two worlds, something seems to shift—something delicate and unspoken. You don’t know what the future holds, but maybe, just maybe, there’s magic enough to bridge the divide.

He passes the beer back to you, and you take a gentle sip, letting the taste linger without wanting the haze of drunkenness to settle in. Out here, in the middle of the endless ocean, everything feels both vast and intimate. A small taste is enough.

“Do you ever feel lonely in the vastness of the sea?” you ask, a quiet melancholy softening your voice as you gaze out at the seemingly endless horizon. The sea is breathtaking, yes, but the weight of its endlessness stirs something in you—a humbling reminder of how small one can feel in such a world.

“Sometimes,” Namjoon admits, his head dipping as his gaze finds the water. “There are moments when the ocean feels too big, too quiet.” His voice is soft, vulnerable. “But I have good friends,” he continues with a faint smile, “and I have my books when the solitude feels too heavy.” He looks at you with eyes warm and reassuring, as if to say that the sea might be vast, but he’s found beauty in its stillness.

“Oh, what books do you like?” you chuckle lightly, trying to brighten the mood, though his quiet sincerity tugs at your heart.

“Human books,” he replies with a gentle grin. “I love historical tales, but fiction is my favorite—stories that let me dream of other worlds.”

You smile, curiosity dancing on your lips. “What kind of fiction? Should I bring you some next time?” The words tumble out before you can catch them, your eagerness spilling over into the space between you.

A blush blooms across his cheeks, so deep it even colors the tips of his ears. In a shy, almost bashful voice, he says, “I... I like romance.” His admission is soft, as if he’s unsure of how it will land.

You can’t help but smile, your heart swelling with affection. There’s no shame in it, not to you—if anything, it’s endearing. “I have some romance books I can bring next time, if you’d like,” you offer, your voice gentle, feeling the warmth of your words fill the space between you.

Namjoon’s eyes sparkle, a soft wonder lighting them up as his blush deepens. “I wouldn’t mind that,” he murmurs, his voice as tender as the evening breeze.

The sun has begun to sink lower, casting a golden glow over the water. Namjoon glances at the sky, then back at you with a smile that feels like the closing of a chapter. “It’s getting late. I was thinking... next time, I could show you Naraeum.” His voice is proud, almost glowing with the thought. “If we go at night, the whole kingdom shines,” he adds, a spark of excitement in his eyes as he recalls the bioluminescent beauty he once described to you.

Your heart leaps at the thought. “I’d love that,” you say, feeling the pull of the ocean’s magic once more. “I’ll ask Hae to man the boat, so I’m not alone when it’s time to head back.”

Namjoon nods, his smile softening as the sun dips lower, its light casting golden hues over both the water and his blue hair. “See you soon,” he says, waving as he begins to slip beneath the surface.

You wave back, feeling the warmth of his presence linger, even as you sail toward the shore, the fading sunlight a reminder that the ocean holds many mysteries yet to be uncovered. And with each adventure, your connection to him deepens, like a current pulling you both to something inevitable.

"I’m telling you, you’re totally whipped, man," Yoongi says with a playful eye roll, his voice teasing but laced with truth.

“I’m not,” Namjoon protests, crossing his arms defensively, but deep down, he knows resistance is futile. His friends have been relentless, teasing him ever since you entered his life—how his smile stretches wider, brighter, after spending time with you, how your name slips into conversations that have nothing to do with the human world. It’s like you’ve seeped into his very soul. He knows he’s fallen, and fallen hard, but the weight of his feelings confuses him. He has no idea how to navigate them, unsure of your heart, or if you could even feel the same pull toward him. And how could it ever work between you two? The thought of venturing onto land to be with you dances through his mind like a fragile dream, but there’s a storm of questions swirling beneath the surface—questions he’s too afraid to ask, too scared to drown in all the unknowns.

“Just don’t get your heart broken,” Yoongi mutters, his voice softer now, tinged with caution. Namjoon nods, the words settling heavily in his chest like stones sinking to the ocean floor.

“Hey man, don’t throw your past experiences at Joonie like that!” Jimin chimes in, smacking Yoongi’s shoulder, a little too forcefully judging by Yoongi’s wince. “If he’s in love, he should go for it. Take the dive, see where the current leads him,” the blonde merman insists, eyes sparkling with mischief and optimism, trying to fill Namjoon’s heart with hope, pushing away the shadows Yoongi’s cynicism casts.

Namjoon, though, can only sigh. “I just don’t know…,” he mumbles, fingers trailing along the spines of his beloved books, rearranging them in some futile attempt to quiet the storm inside him. Anything to busy himself, anything to keep thoughts of you from consuming him. But it’s hopeless—why does his mind keep drifting back to you, like the tide, relentless and unyielding?

“It will never work,” Yoongi shrugs with a quiet scoff, his voice carrying the weight of someone who’s seen too many relationships slip away. His words linger in the air, heavy like the deep sea.

Jimin, unphased, shoots him a scolding glare. “You never know that,” he says firmly. “Just because your love life’s been a shipwreck doesn’t mean it’s the same for everyone else.” There’s a sharp edge to his words, a flicker of irritation.

“And look at Seokjin and Soo-ah!” Jimin adds, his voice lifting again, the gleam of an idea flickering in his eyes. “Soo-ah was human once too, remember? She turned mermaid for love. Maybe ___ would want to become a mermaid as well? Who knows what fate has in store,” he grins, ever the romantic, eager to plant seeds of possibility in Namjoon’s mind.

Namjoon’s heart stirs at the thought, but even the idea feels like a dream too distant, too fragile to reach. Could you really be part of his world? Could love, like the sea, find a way to bridge the impossible distance between you?

“I would never put that on her. She has a life—one she’s likely content with on land. I couldn’t ask her to leave it behind,” Namjoon says, his voice laced with breathless resignation, as though the weight of his own feelings has left him deflated, crushed beneath the impossibility of it all.

“She’s a good friend. I’ll just... enjoy what we have for now,” he adds softly, placing the book you’d given him gently on his nightstand, his fingers lingering on the cover. He already treasures it, not for the words it contains, but because it came from you. Though he hasn’t yet reached the end, he finds himself lost in the pages, immersed in the tale of a woman struggling with feelings for her best friend—torn between preserving their friendship or risking everything for love. If Namjoon sees a reflection of his own heart in those pages, he’ll never admit it, not even to himself.

“Love sucks anyway,” Yoongi mutters, his voice sharp and bitter, like a wound still raw and bleeding.

“You’re killing the vibe, Yoon,” Jimin sighs, shaking his head as he swims closer to Namjoon, his energy warm and comforting.

“Don’t listen to him,” Jimin adds, draping an arm around Namjoon’s broad shoulders, trying to lift the weight that presses down on his friend. “He’s the last person you want advice from when it comes to love. He’s forgotten what it means to believe in it.” Jimin shoots another glare at Yoongi, who merely shrugs, unmoved.

Namjoon lets out a weary sigh. He likes you—no, more than likes you. Perhaps he’s even in love, but he’s still learning to come to terms with that revelation. What if telling you his feelings drives you away? What if, in confessing his heart, he loses the precious friendship you’ve built together? You, who’ve brought laughter and life into his days. He’s never been close to a human before, not like this, and the thought of losing you weighs heavier than the ocean above him.

It’s not like he hasn’t ventured to land before, tasted fleeting moments with humans—flings that flickered out as quickly as they began. But this, you, feel different. And he’s in deep water now, uncertain of the way forward. It doesn’t matter to him that you’re human. If you were a mermaid, he doubts it would make things easier. What draws him to you isn’t your species, it’s your soul.

It’s the way your hair dances in the wind, or how it clings to your skin when it’s soaked from the sea. The way your cheeks flush red, that soft blush that dusts even the bridge of your nose. The way bubbles rise and swirl around you when you dive beneath the waves, how your lashes flutter like the wings of a butterfly. The way your presence calms the storm inside him, as though you carry the quiet strength of the sea itself.

Yes, Namjoon thinks, his heart heavy with the undeniable truth. He’s got it bad.

“Hae, I don’t know what to do,” you sigh, the weight of indecision pressing down on you as you sit at the coffee shop, staring at the steam rising from your untouched cup. You feel like you could pull your hair out, frustration boiling inside as you wait for the coffee to cool, though it’s really your emotions that need calming.

The midday sunlight filters through the window, casting soft golden light over your table, but you can’t appreciate the warmth. Your mind is too restless. What are you supposed to do with these feelings?

“It’s actually quite simple,” Hae says, her tone far too casual for the magnitude of what you’re feeling. She takes a sip of her coffee—how does she drink it so scalding hot?—and you scoff softly, half out of envy, half in disbelief at how calm she seems. “You just have to talk to him.”

You groan, the sound louder than you intended, pulling curious glances from the tables around you. Embarrassed, you lower your voice, but the frustration lingers, tugging at your insides like a tangled knot.

“It’s not that easy,” you say, pushing your coffee aside. “What if he doesn’t like me? What if I ruin everything between us?” Your voice drops to a whisper as your hands fall to your lap, palms sweaty and clammy. “How would it even work? He’s a merman, Hae. I... I’m just me.”

Hae raises an eyebrow, amused. “Girl—have you seriously not noticed the way he looks at you?”

You blink. “What do you mean? He looks at me... normal.”

She gives you a look that suggests you might be the most oblivious person on the planet. “Nah. He looks at you like he’s ready to drown in your eyes—like you’re his whole world.”

Her words hit you like a sudden wave, stealing your breath for a moment. Could she be right? You’ve never seen Namjoon look at you like that, at least not in a way you could recognize.

“Really?” you whisper, unsure, heart fluttering with both hope and fear.

“Yes,” she emphasizes, laughing a little as she sets her cup down. “You’re kinda stupid for not noticing.”

You finally take a tentative sip of your now-warm coffee, trying to hide the way her words unravel you. As the warmth settles in your chest, your mind starts racing, replaying all the moments you’ve shared with Namjoon, all the times he’s looked at you, spoken to you with that gentle smile. Had there been something more in those glances? Had you been too blind to see it?

“You should confess your feelings,” Hae says, matter-of-fact, sipping her coffee like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

But it’s not that simple, not for you. The thought of baring your heart feels like standing at the edge of a precipice, with no way of knowing if there’s solid ground beneath you—or a fall. What if she’s wrong? What if you’re wrong?

You shake your head slowly. “I don’t know if I can. What if I ruin our friendship? What if he doesn’t feel the same?”

Hae gives you a knowing look, but you’re already spiraling, lost in your own thoughts. Maybe... maybe you could watch him a little longer, try to see what she’s seeing, catch more evidence that there’s something there, something more.

Because the risk of losing him over your feelings—that terrifies you more than anything.

It’s a few nights later, and the sea is a blanket of darkness as you and Hae venture out into its endless expanse. The sky above is nearly pitch black, save for the delicate shimmer of stars scattered like diamonds, casting faint light upon the inky water. The moon hangs low, its pale glow mirrored perfectly on the surface, creating a fragile bridge between the heavens and the sea. You pull Hae into a hug, murmuring your gratitude for her being here, for her unwavering companionship on this strange, otherworldly journey. She laughs softly, her voice breaking the silence of the night, and tells you she wouldn’t let you drown—not when she’s here to keep you safe. Her words bring a smile to your face, easing the quiet tension in your chest as you pull on your gear in the dark.

You slip into the water, the sea swallowing you whole. Beneath the surface, it’s as black as ink, the deep blue fading into a near-impenetrable navy that borders on oblivion. But there is no fear, only the pull of the unknown as you dive deeper, surrendering to the quiet pull of the ocean. Your breath is steady, your heartbeat louder in your ears than the sound of the waves above.

And then, there he is—Namjoon, his gentle smile waiting for you like a beacon in the depths, dimples carving softness into the darkness. His presence is steady, grounding, and for a moment, you forget you can’t speak, forgetting that the words you wish to say—I’m glad I’m here, thank you for this—are trapped behind the mask of your breathing gear.

Suddenly, his hand reaches for yours. The touch surprises you at first, a flicker of warmth against the cold of the sea, sending a soft spark up your arm, a silent current that makes your heart stutter. But then you relax into it, realizing how right it feels—his hand in yours, the silent understanding between you. It’s just a hand, you remind yourself, but even the smallest gesture carries weight in the depths of the sea.

“It’s dark,” he gestures to your joined hands, his voice a whisper through the water. “I’ll guide you.” You notice, even in the dim light, how his eyes shift nervously, and if the ocean weren’t so dark, you’d swear there was a blush creeping across his cheeks.

Together, you swim deeper, your hand still clasped in his as the world around you begins to change. In the distance, something gleams—a glint of gold, faint but unmistakable. As you draw closer, it becomes more defined, taking shape as towering structures rise from the seafloor like monuments from another world. Tall, ancient buildings glitter beneath the water, their surfaces gleaming with gold, adorned in intricate lettering and symbols you can’t begin to decipher. The curves and arches remind you of something familiar, some echo of human architecture, though far grander and more ancient than anything you’ve ever seen. These aren’t just buildings—they’re castles, palaces from a forgotten fairy tale. Everything is bathed in the ethereal glow of bioluminescent light, soft blues and yellows emanating from plants that pulse like stars, making the entire city shimmer as if alive with magic. It’s breathtaking—otherworldly in its beauty—and you feel your breath catch in your throat, mesmerized by the impossible splendor before you.

How many wonders exist beneath the surface, hidden from the world above? you think, the weight of it all is almost too much to grasp. That such a place could exist, a vast city of gold and light, thriving in the deep—how could you have never known?

“Welcome to Naraeum,” Namjoon says, his voice soft, gesturing toward the city center that teems with life. Merpeople of all shapes, colors, and ages drift through the streets, some lost in their own rhythms, others laughing and chatting, and children darting through the water in playful games. The whole scene is alive, vibrant, and full of warmth, and the sight of it fills you with something indescribable—joy, wonder, perhaps even belonging.

A smile spreads across your face, unbidden, as the reality of this magical place settles over you. For the first time, you feel like you’ve truly discovered something beyond the world you’ve known, something boundless and beautiful. And with Namjoon beside you, it feels like you’ve only just begun to understand its depths.

“This is the city hall,” Namjoon gestures toward the tallest of the castles, its golden spires reaching upward like fingers trying to touch the ocean’s surface. “The royal family lives there too.” His voice is soft, but there’s a weight to his words, something ancient and significant about the building that looms over the city like a silent guardian.

You glance at him, blinking, wishing you could ask more, the curiosity burning inside you. If only you could speak, but the water and the mouthpiece keep your questions trapped behind your lips. The tug of his hand interrupts your thoughts, and once again you’re being gently pulled deeper into the heart of Naraeum, where the city unfolds like a dream in slow motion.

The water sways with life—delicate kale and other greens move in rhythm with the gentle currents, shells glint beneath the sandy floor, and tiny crabs scuttle between the rocks, oblivious to your presence. Shoals of fish—bright yellow, orange, and black—dart past, their quicksilver bodies flashing through the twilight water. And now, the eyes of the merpeople are on you. Their gazes, curious and shimmering, follow you as you move through their world, and for the first time, you feel like a true visitor in a land not your own.

Three merpeople approach, their figures graceful and effortless in the water. One, a striking merman with a pink tail that shimmers like rose quartz in the dim light, looks you over with an intensity that makes you feel seen in a way both comforting and unfamiliar. You notice his hand intertwined with a mermaid beside him, her tail a stunning shade of purple that gleams like amethyst. Together, they are radiant, like a pair of jewels. They look perfect together, you think, a bit in awe of how seamlessly they belong to this world.

“This is ___?” the pink-tailed merman asks, his voice smooth, his eyes darting to Namjoon for confirmation.

Namjoon nods, and the mermaid smiles, her face brightening with warmth. “Pleased to meet you,” she says, her voice light like a melody. “I’m Soo-ah, and this is my fiancé, Seokjin.” You nod in response, acknowledging them with a smile behind your mouthpiece, feeling a sense of camaraderie in their presence.

But before you can speak—or even think of what to say—your eyes catch on the third figure. A dark-haired merman with a tail the color of midnight, streaked with gold that glimmers like starlight. His aura is different—colder, detached. His black eyes flicker over you briefly, then, with a dismissive scoff, he turns away, arms crossed over his chest as if to close himself off from the world.

Namjoon sighs, his voice edged with irritation, “That’s Yoongi.” The name comes out rough, almost an apology. “He forgot to take the stick out of his ass today.”

You can’t help but chuckle, bubbles escaping from your mouthpiece, rising toward the surface like tiny pieces of joy. Even in this underwater kingdom, humor survives, softening the tension. But Yoongi, unmoved, swims off into the shadows, his figure disappearing into the vastness of the sea.

“Don’t mind him,” Namjoon mutters, squeezing your hand a little tighter. “Come on, I want to show you the rest.”

Soo-ah and Seokjin swim alongside you as Namjoon leads you through the winding streets of the marketplace, stalls lined up like sentinels, though empty now in the quiet of night. The architecture is both foreign and familiar, illuminated by the soft glow of bioluminescent plants. Everything feels untouched by time, and yet alive with history. You pass the grand library next, its shelves filled with tomes both ancient and new, merfolk stories and human books resting side by side. You can almost feel the weight of untold stories and hidden lore that fills the space, waiting to be discovered.

Namjoon’s excitement builds as he takes you to a fitness center unlike anything you’ve ever seen—massive bars with stones at either end, weights crafted from various-sized rocks, and machines clearly designed for strength and agility in the water. It’s a glimpse into the life of these beings, how they build themselves in this weightless world.

After a while, Soo-ah and Seokjin bid you farewell, their presence a quiet comfort as they swim off together, leaving you alone with Namjoon. Your pulse quickens. His hand, still clasped in yours, feels warm even in the cold depths of the sea. The way he glances at you—those fleeting, secretive looks that you’ve caught out of the corner of your eye—makes your heart race even more. Hae’s words echo in your mind, whispering truths you’re not sure you’re ready to admit.

Could it be? you wonder, as the two of you drift toward his home.

“This is my place,” he says softly, his voice reverberating through the water as he turns on the light—an iridescent seashell hanging from the ceiling that casts a gentle, pearlescent glow throughout the space. His home is carved into the heart of a cave, the walls smooth and cool to the touch, like the sea itself has shaped them over countless years. Your eyes fall on his bed, draped in what looks like a soft, inviting duvet, but as you get closer, you realize it’s woven from delicate strands of kelp, swaying ever so slightly in the currents. It’s an unexpected beauty, intricate and organic, like everything in this underwater world.

The longest wall is dominated by a towering bookshelf, its shelves lined with books, arranged meticulously by color and size. It’s mesmerizing, this ocean of stories he’s collected, and you can’t help but wonder what worlds and lives he’s explored within these pages. You want to tell him, to say how beautiful it all is—his home, his soul, him. But your words are trapped beneath the weight of the sea, tangled with the breathlessness of being in his presence.

Your fingertips brush the spines of the books, imagining all the narratives they contain, each one another layer of who Namjoon is. You glance down at your joined hands—his fingers laced with yours, and in that quiet moment, you swear you can feel something electric passing between you. A pulse of warmth, a silent exchange of emotions you can’t speak. You want to kiss him, more than anything. The way he’s gazing at you, his eyes soft and full of something unspoken, the gentle curve of his lips hiding a blush you wish you could see more clearly.

But here, in this quiet cavern beneath the sea, there’s nothing you can do. You can’t ask him what you’re dying to know, can’t lean in and feel the warmth of his lips against yours, can’t tell him that you’re falling, deeply, helplessly. All you can do is float here, heart aching with the weight of everything unsaid.

He clears his throat, nervously scratching the back of his head. His mouth opens as if he’s about to speak, then closes again. There’s something he wants to say, you can feel it, lingering in the air between you. He tries again, and this time his voice, soft and hesitant, finally breaks the silence.

“Thank you for letting me show you my world.”

You squeeze his hand gently, pouring all the gratitude and affection you can’t voice into that single touch. You hope he feels it—the appreciation, the awe, the quiet longing you carry for him. And in that touch, you wish you could invite him into your world, share everything that you are with him, even though he’s been on land before. But you don’t know if he’d want that. You’ve never asked, never dared to imagine what it might be like to share your lives across these two worlds. You’re afraid to impose, afraid to hope too much.

The moment hangs fragile between you, but like all perfect moments, it begins to fade as reality presses in. You feel the pull of time, the reminder that you need to return to the surface. Namjoon feels it too. His eyes flicker with understanding as he leads you back out into the city, guiding you through the soft glow of bioluminescent lights, past the merpeople still moving gracefully through their midnight routines.

The silence between you stretches as you swim toward the boat where Hae waits, but it’s not the kind of silence that weighs heavy. It’s filled with possibility, thick with everything you haven’t said. Your heart beats faster as you realize that, once you’re back above the water, you’ll have the chance to speak. To ask. The thought of it sends your pulse racing, a swirl of excitement and terror mixing in your chest.

What if he doesn’t feel the same? The question spins through your mind, gnawing at the edges of your courage. But the way he looked at you, the way his hand feels in yours, gives you hope. And maybe—just maybe—that will be enough.

As you break the surface of the water, you push your goggles up to rest like a headband, feeling the cool night air kiss your damp skin. It’s crisp, almost electric, filling your lungs with a freshness that makes the world above feel more alive than ever. Namjoon surfaces beside you, offering you a soft smile, but your attention is caught by the subtle blush dusting his cheeks, a faint rose bloom in the moonlight. He seems hesitant, his uncertainty mirroring your own, as if you’re both standing on the edge of something vast and uncharted, too afraid to take that first leap.

For a heartbeat, he swims closer, his presence looming gently in your space. You hold your breath, your pulse quickening with the thought that he might—maybe—kiss you. Instinctively, you close your eyes, ready to surrender to that moment, but instead, his fingers brush your cheek, and he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear with such tenderness it sends a wave of warmth through your body. His touch lingers, delicate and deliberate, and though it wasn’t the kiss you imagined, it makes you blush all the same. The heat rises to your cheeks, flooding you with a mixture of longing and disappointment.

But then something stirs within you—some reckless courage sparked by his closeness—and before you can think it through, you lean in. Your lips find his, a soft, quick kiss, almost like a whisper. It’s gentle, just a peck, but his lips are warm, softer than you ever imagined, like the sea breeze caressing your skin on a summer evening.

When you pull away, you see the surprise flicker in his eyes for just a moment before his features soften into something tender and full of quiet affection. His ears burn red in the moonlight, and his dimples deepen as he gazes at you with a look that leaves you breathless. His brown eyes—dark and shimmering, like polished amber—glow with something more, something deeper. You think, just for a second, it’s desire, simmering beneath his calm exterior.

“Thank you for tonight,” you whisper, your voice barely carrying over the soft lapping of the waves. You squeeze his hand, feeling the warmth and strength of him, and smile. “It was so beautiful.”

Namjoon doesn’t speak; he simply looks at you, his dragon-like eyes full of quiet intensity, his dimples softening the tension in the air. It’s a look that makes your heart skip, that holds a thousand unsaid words between you. And as you reluctantly pull away, swimming toward the boat, your mind is still spinning from the kiss, from the closeness, from everything left unspoken.

Hae pulls you up into the boat, and as you sit, catching your breath, you catch her sly grin. You know she saw everything—the kiss, the blush, the way Namjoon looked at you—but for now, she stays silent, letting the moment hang in the air. You wave to Namjoon, watching as he offers one last gentle smile before disappearing back into the deep, dark waters, the night swallowing him whole.

And even as the waves settle, your heart still swells, full of the hope and mystery that the night—and Namjoon—left behind.

The days pass in a blur of anxious thoughts, your heart heavy with doubt. Every dive into the ocean feels colder without a trace of Namjoon, and the silence is deafening. Each time you resurface alone, your mind spirals further into uncertainty. Did you overstep? The kiss lingers on your lips, but now you wonder if it was a mistake. It feels as if he’s vanished into the depths, leaving you adrift. Is he avoiding me? The question gnaws at you, twisting your insides. Maybe this is his way of saying he doesn’t feel the same, that he wants nothing more to do with you.

Hae, ever the caring friend, drags you to a fancy restaurant in an attempt to soothe your restless mind, insisting that you’re worrying yourself to death. You look like a dog that’s been kicked, she had said with a shake of her head, trying to make you laugh. But now, as you sit across from her, poking at the salad you barely have the appetite to eat, the weight of your uncertainty presses down even harder. Your stomach twists with every bite, the anxiety clinging to you like a shadow.

“Maybe he’s just busy, or caught up in merfolk stuff?" Hae suggests, her voice light, trying to pry you from the dark corners of your thoughts. But your mind won’t let you escape. Busy? No, your treacherous thoughts whisper, he’s avoiding you—he’s forgotten you, and the kiss meant nothing.

You say nothing, only stabbing your fork into the salad with a kind of quiet fury, each jab into the leaves an outlet for the storm brewing inside you.

“Uh, ___?” Hae’s voice breaks the tension, but you barely lift your head. She stumbles over her words, clearly uneasy, her tone cautious as she leans in closer. “There’s a man—blue hair—he’s looking at us.”

At her words, something stirs in you, curiosity overriding the anger for just a moment. Blue hair? Your heart skips a beat, and before you can stop yourself, you turn around, almost instinctively, as though drawn by an invisible thread. Your gaze collides with a pair of deep, brown eyes that hold all the mystery of the ocean. Namjoon.

His eyes glisten like the sea at dawn, reflecting both depth and tenderness, swirling with something unspoken—regret, maybe even desire. You swallow hard, feeling the magnetic pull that has always existed between you, but this time, it’s stronger. The air around you thickens as he walks toward the table, his presence unmistakable, sending your pulse into a wild rhythm.

“Hi, Y/N,” he says, his voice soft, laced with an apology that doesn’t need to be spoken yet. The smile he offers is gentle, almost shy, and you can see the guilt in the way his eyes search yours. He knows. He knows he shouldn’t have disappeared without a word.

“Hi, Namjoon,” you manage to reply, the sound of his name on your lips stirring something deep inside you—something that’s a mixture of relief and frustration. You’re a little mad, of course you are. But as your heart races, you know you can’t stay angry with him, not when he’s standing there with that look in his eyes. He’s here now. And that’s enough for your heart to forgive him.

Your eyes travel down to his legs—strong, toned, perfectly human. He’s traded the water for the land, just for you, standing there in beige shorts like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And yet, your mind spins with the impossibility of it all, as if he’s a dream made flesh, and part of you still can’t believe he’s really here.

The air between you is thick with unspoken words, a tension that seems to ripple like the sea itself. Namjoon scratches the back of his head, his eyes shifting with uncertainty. “I’m sorry I’ve been gone,” he begins, his voice low and sincere. “I didn’t mean to disappear like that, but something happened in Naraeum—”

Before he can finish, the weight of your own anxiety breaks through, forcing the words from your chest. “I thought you didn’t like me, or just forgot about me.” The admission tumbles out, raw and trembling, the very fear that has haunted you for days finally taking shape between you. As soon as the words leave your lips, you feel exposed, vulnerable. You brace yourself for his response.

For a moment, he just stares, his expression frozen in disbelief, like your words have knocked the wind out of him. Then, his face softens, eyes wide with something close to shock. “Baby, no,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand, the nickname slipping from his lips so naturally that it sends a flutter of warmth through your chest. He steps closer, worry etched in every line of his face as his gaze falls on you, sitting there with your heart in your throat.

Baby?

“I’d never forget about you,” he continues, his voice trembling slightly as he bites his lower lip, as if trying to hold something back. The intimacy of that small gesture makes your breath catch.

Hae clears her throat opposite you, breaking the charged moment. She rises from her seat, her chair scraping loudly against the floor, drawing both your gazes toward her flushed face. “Namjoon, please, take my seat and talk. I’ll go home and shower this tension off,” she says, her tone teasing but kind.

You open your mouth to protest, but then close it, realizing she’s right. The tension is palpable, thick as the ocean depths, and part of you is grateful for the space she’s offering. Even though nerves twist inside you like a storm, you know this is a conversation you need to have.

As Hae leaves, Namjoon sits down across from you, his eyes soft and apologetic. “I’m sorry I worried you, baby,” he murmurs, leaning forward slightly. His hands rest on the table, inching closer to yours, like he’s afraid to cross that final distance too soon.

There’s that word again—baby—and it stirs something deep inside you, butterflies rising in your chest, fluttering wildly, desperate to escape. It’s more than just a nickname; it’s a promise, a reassurance that melts the cold fear that has been gnawing at you for days.

“It’s okay,” you reply, your voice softer now, the storm inside you beginning to calm. “My mind just... got the better of me.” Your gaze flickers to where his fingers hover near yours, and your heart beats wildly at the nearness of him.

Namjoon is here, in front of you, and you realize with a quiet, overwhelming relief—he’s never really been gone.

“I could never not like you,” Namjoon murmurs, his voice dipping lower, softer, as if the truth is too delicate to be spoken aloud. “I think I... love you,” he finishes, the last words barely audible, yet they linger in the air between you like a fragile secret.

Did he just say love? Your heart stumbles, and for a moment, you forget to breathe. “You do?” you ask, your voice trembling with disbelief, your pulse fluttering wildly in your chest. Could it be real? Could he feel the same way?

A flicker of uncertainty dances across your mind, and you can’t help but press further, needing clarity. “Wait—do you think, or do you know?” Your question is gentle, but it carries the weight of hope, a hope that has been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

Namjoon smiles at himself, a soft laugh escaping his lips. “Sorry,” he says, the sincerity in his eyes unmistakable. “I know. I know I love you.”

Time seems to slow, the world slipping into a dreamlike state where everything feels soft, suspended, as if wrapped in the warm glow of your shared confession. The air between you feels charged, but also tender, like the fragile moment before the first petal falls. You can feel it now—he’s there with you, and this love, this real thing, is finally mutual.

You reach out, taking his hands in yours, and lean in closer. “I love you too, Namjoon,” you whisper, the words feeling both daring and true.

For a moment, silence settles between you, but it’s a comfortable silence—one filled with the weight of what’s just been said. His hazel eyes, flecked with warmth and softness, hold yours, and you swear you could drown in them. Drown and never wish to come up for air.

The pull between you is magnetic, and before you can stop yourself, the words slip out, unfiltered and bold. “Do you... want to come see my place?” The second the words leave your mouth, heat rushes to your cheeks. The invitation is brazen, filled with unspoken implications, but you know it’s what you want—all of him, not just this moment, but something more, something deeper.

Namjoon’s breath catches, and he stands, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yes, baby,” he replies in a voice that is almost a whisper, but carries the weight of everything he feels. That one word—baby—sends shivers spiraling down your spine, and you bite your lip, holding back a smile.

Hand in hand, you walk together through the quiet night, the cool air a stark contrast to the warmth building between you. You don’t need words now; the simple contact of his hand in yours is enough, grounding you as you lean into his strong frame. It feels so natural, as if you’ve always been walking beside him, as if this was always meant to happen.

When you reach your apartment, you fumble for the keys, unlocking the door with a nervous flutter in your chest. As the door swings open, you flick on the light, and for a moment, you glance around, hoping he won’t find your space too cluttered or small. You’d cleaned just the day before, but still, anxiety lingers.

Namjoon steps inside, his eyes roaming the space, but he doesn’t say a word. Instead, he looks at you, his gaze heavy with something unspoken, something that makes your heart race. His hand tightens around yours, and you feel yourself being pulled further into his orbit, like gravity drawing you closer.

You look up at him, studying the moles that dot his skin, noticing the way his features are softened by the low light. He’s so close, and in this moment, with his warm eyes on yours and his hand gently holding yours, you think—this is what it means to truly be seen, to truly be wanted. And God, does he look so handsome.

Then, without hesitation, he dives in, his lips crashing into yours with a desperate, urgent need. The moment you let out a soft moan against his mouth, he releases your hand, now free to explore you. Both of his hands cup your cheeks tenderly, yet with a fierceness that pulls you deeper into him. The kiss consumes you, leaving you feeling like water melting in his palms—soft, fluid, and utterly surrendered. His lips tease yours, grazing them in a way that demands more, and when he seeks entrance, you grant it willingly. Your tongues meet in a slow, intoxicating rhythm, moving like waves crashing together under a moonlit sea.

Another moan escapes you, and you feel heat pooling deep inside, a yearning that’s overwhelming. And it’s only a kiss—yet it has you unraveling like a ribbon coming loose.

When he finally pulls away, his gaze locks onto yours, desire simmering in the air between you, thick and electric. “Baby, I want you so bad,” he breathes, his lips curling into a soft pout that makes your heart melt. How does he look both fierce and endearing at once?

You can’t help but smile, your own need burning just as fiercely. “Me too... Please call me ‘baby’ more,” you whisper, fluttering your lashes as you cling to the warmth in his eyes. “I love it.”

He chuckles, the sound like a low rumble of thunder. “Oh, I’ve noticed,” he says, amused. “Every time I call you ‘baby,’ your eyes dilate.”

You didn’t know that, but you feel the truth of it—the way that simple word makes your heart race, how it draws you even closer to him, making you crave more.

“I want you...” You pause, feeling the boldness rise within you, “I want you to fuck me.” Your voice is breathless, your gaze holding his with an unspoken plea.

Namjoon grins, a softness creeping into his eyes. “Oh, baby, I’m going to make love to you,” he whispers, and the words are like honey dripping slow and thick. “Don’t you worry,” he adds, his lips capturing yours again with a hunger that makes your head spin.

Each kiss sends you spiraling further into him, your sanity slipping, but God, you love every second of it. It strikes you then how much of a romantic he is, how the passion in his touch mirrors the stories he loves in his books.

He pulls back, his breath hot against your lips. “Where’s your bedroom?” he asks with a playful chuckle.

You point, and before you can say another word, his strong hands find your waist, lifting you effortlessly. You wrap your legs around him, straddling his hips as he carries you across the room. He opens the bedroom door with a sweep of his foot, not bothering with the light, and gently lowers you onto the bed. Laughter bubbles between you, soft and sweet, as his lips claim yours again in a kiss that is both feverish and tender.

Your fingers tangle in his blue hair, tugging at the strands, and he hisses in pleasure, the sound sending shivers racing down your spine. He grinds against you, his erection pressing firmly against your core, and you feel yourself unraveling again, melting beneath him. God, he feels big, you think, your body aching to know him, to feel him completely.

Your hands move to the hem of his shirt, your fingers brushing against his skin as you tug the fabric upward, longing to see his bare chest again. You know what lies beneath—his broad, muscular frame, every inch of him beautifully sculpted, chest rising and falling with each breath. And you need to touch him, to feel his strength beneath your hands.

In this moment, nothing else matters—just him, you, and the gravity of everything that has led you here.

He pulls away, sensing exactly what you want, and in one fluid motion, grabs the hem of his shirt, peeling it off in a way that feels almost sinful. The sight of him should be illegal—holy hell, the way his muscles flex as he undresses is enough to take your breath away.

Your hands move instinctively, drawn to the expanse of his chest, a perfect blend of softness and strength. The skin beneath your fingers is warm, and the way he feels—solid, yet yielding—is intoxicating.

“Like what you see?” he teases, his voice low and full of that gentle confidence, and you can only gape at him, feeling the warmth of your admiration blossom into something deeper.

“God, Namjoon, you’ve always been beautiful... inside and out,” you murmur, your voice filled with reverence, because while his looks are striking, it’s his soul that captivates you.

His lips curve into a soft smile, his gaze tender as he leans down, brushing light kisses along the curve of your neck. The sensation sends waves of laughter bubbling out of you, light and breathless, as the tickle of his lips spreads joy and heat all at once. He keeps moving lower, trailing kisses down your body like a map only he knows how to navigate.

When he reaches the waistband of your pants, he pauses, eyes flicking up to meet yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Can I?” he asks, his voice both eager and gentle.

“Yes,” you whisper, and as he unbuttons your pants, you arch your back to help him slide them off, heart racing. He pauses again, staring for a moment, captivated by the sight of you, the evidence of your desire already showing.

“You’re so wet, baby,” he says, his voice hushed and full of wonder. “All for me?”

You nod, breath hitching, your body already trembling with need. “Yes, Joon. You make me so damn wet,” you pant, writhing beneath him, desperate for more. “Please, just touch me.”

His gaze darkens with lust as he licks his lips, then dips his head lower, trailing kisses across your stomach, inching closer to where you need him most. Every touch sends sparks of pleasure through you, and you giggle softly, unable to contain the lightness you feel even as desire coils tighter within you. His lips press against the hem of your lace panties, nothing extravagant, yet he looks at you like you’re the most exquisite thing he’s ever seen.

With agonizing slowness, he hooks his fingers into the waistband, pulling them down with deliberate care. The cool air of your apartment contrasts sharply with the warmth between your thighs, and you gasp, aching for him. You feel exposed, vulnerable, but in the most delicious way—his gaze heavy with desire as he takes you in.

“Joonie…” you moan softly, voice trembling, as his eyes linger on your glistening pussy, admiring you. You wonder if he finds you beautiful like this, spread bare before him, and his awestruck expression tells you everything.

“Damn,” he whispers, voice thick with astonishment. “You’re so pretty… already dripping with need.”

Your breath catches as his words wash over you, and when he asks, “Can I taste you? Can I touch you?” you can barely manage a nod as you spread your legs wider, inviting him in.

“Please,” you beg, feeling delirious with want, every nerve in your body alight with anticipation.

His touch is featherlight at first, a single finger brushing over your swollen clit, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you. You flinch, already overly sensitive, a gasp falling from your lips as your body responds immediately.

“More,” you plead, rolling your hips into his hand, urging him to press harder, to give you what you crave.

His fingers glide over you, warm and sure, stroking your slick skin with precision. Every movement sets off another spark, and a moan escapes you—high-pitched, breathy, and filled with need. His touch is both tender and demanding, and with every stroke, you feel yourself unraveling, caught in the storm of pleasure.

His fingers continue their rhythm, rolling over your sensitive clit with perfect precision, each movement making it throb with want. Your body reacts instinctively, hips rising to meet his touch, chasing more—chasing everything. You need all of him, and the craving is almost unbearable.

Namjoon watches you with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken, his eyes filled with both desire and wonder as he works you with his fingers, and then, slowly, his lips find the tender skin of your inner thigh. His kisses are featherlight, but they leave a trail of fire in their wake, and you tremble under his touch. With each kiss, he moves closer, until finally, his mouth finds your pussy, his warm tongue lapping at your slick folds, tasting you with reverence.

He groans, the sound vibrating against your core, and your hands instinctively tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, as if you want him to drown in your pleasure. His tongue flicks over your sensitive nub, teasing, tasting, and the sensation makes your whole body tense in anticipation. His fingers slide to your entrance, probing gently before slipping inside, one at a time. The stretch feels divine, his fingers curling to reach deeper, and soon two, then three fill you, stretching you in the most perfect, delicious way.

Your toes curl, your breath comes in ragged gasps as you feel the wave of your climax building, rising with every flick of his tongue, every stroke of his fingers. “Joon,” you gasp, a warning, but he only sucks harder, his lips and tongue working in tandem as his fingers thrust deeper, hitting that spot inside you that sends you spiraling.

The world tilts, and your back arches as the orgasm crashes through you, white-hot and electric. You thrash beneath him, pulling at his hair as pleasure floods your body, and all you can do is moan his name in a broken, breathless whisper. Even as your body shudders, he doesn’t stop, his mouth still on your clit, drawing out every last wave until you’re trembling with overstimulation. You tap his shoulder weakly, and finally, he pulls back, his face glistening with your slick, eyes dark with satisfaction.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, his hand brushing softly over your thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. His touch is light, reverent, and though you’re still floating in the bliss of your release, you feel the need to return the favor rise within you.

“Let me take care of you,” you whisper, your voice thick with desire as you shift, pushing him down beside you. He opens his mouth to protest, but the words are swallowed by a low groan as you straddle his lap, feeling the hard bulge of his cock press against your wet core. You grind down on him, teasing him with the friction, and he lets out a ragged moan that makes your pulse quicken.

“I just want to make you feel good,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his lips, tasting yourself on him. “I don’t know how mermen make love, but as humans—I want you to feel good too.”

He chuckles softly, his hands resting on your hips, eyes dark with hunger. “It’s definitely not the same,” he admits, voice low and breathless, and that’s all the encouragement you need. You slide down his lap to the floor, your eyes locked on his, your intentions clear.

Your fingers find the waistband of his shorts, and he helps you pull them down, revealing his muscular thighs. When you see the thick outline of his cock straining against his boxers, your mouth waters, anticipation making your pulse quicken. Tugging down the last barrier, you free him, and his cock springs forward, thick and long, the head flushed red with need. A bead of precum glistens at the tip, and your breath hitches at the sight of him, hunger twisting deep inside you.

You lick your lips, your hands moving with purpose—one resting on his thigh, the other wrapping around the thick base of his shaft, feeling the weight of him in your palm. Slowly, you begin to pump, your fingers sliding over the velvety skin as you build a steady rhythm.

Namjoon groans, the sound so deep it reverberates through your core, and you can feel him tense beneath your touch, his body reacting to every stroke. His groans are like music, deep and sinful, and they make you want to push him further, to hear more of those primal, desperate sounds spill from his lips.

Damn, you need more of him.

You glance up at him, mischief in your eyes as you give a playful wink before taking him into your mouth. The taste is salty, a mix of his precum and something else, something almost elemental, as if the sea still clings to him. It sends a shiver down your spine, urging you to lose yourself in the act. You move with intent, your lips and tongue working in unison, breathing deeply through your nose as you take him deeper, each stroke making his body tremble beneath you.

He gasps your name, his voice barely a whisper, like it’s the only thing tethering him to the moment. His hands find their way to your hair, gentle, not controlling—just resting there as if he’s entranced by the sight of you. He glances down, watching the way your mouth moves over him, and his breath quickens, as if the very air has become too thin.

“Fuck,” he groans, voice strained, “you’re so damn good at this.”

You smirk inwardly, already knowing, but the praise sends a thrill through you. There’s something intoxicating about the way he fills your mouth, the way you feel him pulse against your tongue. It makes you wonder how your pussy will take him, how it’ll feel when he’s buried deep inside you, stretching you wide.

You’re making a mess of him—your saliva slicks his length, dripping down onto the sheets—but you don’t care. Not when he’s like this, writhing beneath you, his muscles taut with need. Your hand moves lower, cupping his balls, rolling them gently in your palm, and you feel them tighten as he draws closer to the edge.

“Damn,” he rasps, voice rough with desire, “you look and feel so fucking amazing.”

The sound of his praise sends another wave of heat rushing through you, making you wetter, a needy ache building low in your belly. You take him deeper, determined, your throat tightening as you try to swallow him down. But your gag reflex protests, and you pull back slightly, not wanting to push too far. Instead, you focus on teasing the head, your tongue circling slowly before flicking across his sensitive frenulum. He groans sharply, his hips jerking, and you can’t help the soft giggle that escapes you.

He’s unraveling, his control slipping, and you love it—love the power you hold over him in this moment, love seeing him lost in you.

Suddenly, his hands come to your cheeks, stilling your movements as he looks down at you with hooded eyes, his chest heaving with shallow breaths. “Baby,” he rasps, his voice thick with both lust and affection, “you’re dangerous with that mouth. If you keep going, I’m going to come right down your throat… and I want to make love and come inside you.”

You release him with a soft pop, a teasing smirk playing on your lips as you lick them slowly, savoring the taste of him. “You can always come down my throat later,” you murmur, your voice low and sultry. Rising to your feet, you peel off your shirt, followed by the clasp of your bra, letting it fall to the floor. Your breasts spill free, and the heat in Namjoon’s gaze intensifies as his hands instinctively find your hips, his grip firm yet tender.

“Is every inch of you just perfect?” he breathes, awe in his voice. The compliment sends a flush of warmth to your cheeks, and you chuckle softly, not answering because his words feel rhetorical, like they’re part of the worship that’s building between you.

Instead, you lean down to kiss him, pouring every bit of your desire into it. His cock twitches beneath you, hard and throbbing against your thighs, but you take your time, savoring the kiss—long, slow, and tender. You straddle him, hovering just above his cock, your body aching to sink down, to feel him inside you. But instead, you pause, letting yourself get lost in the depth of his gaze, his eyes like molten gold, swirling with emotion.

He kisses you again, his lips soft but insistent, and in that moment, you feel weightless. Like you’re floating, caught in a current, drifting between pleasure and affection. You feel cherished, like a treasure he’s unearthed from the depths of the ocean—glimmering, precious, and adored like the gems you’ve been collecting.

He groans, a deep, feral sound vibrating from his chest, and his hands tighten around your hips, the pressure promising bruises that’ll bloom as tender reminders of this moment. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, baby,” he pants, his eyes dark and hooded with lust, as if he’s trying to memorize every curve of your face. His lips search for yours, hungry, desperate to close the space between you again.

“Likewise,” you breathe out, your voice shaky, your pulse racing. One of your hands trails down his body, fingers grazing his taut abdomen before wrapping around the thick length of him. You lift yourself slightly, feeling the heat of him against you. Just as you’re about to guide him inside, his deep voice cuts through the haze of desire.

“Should we use a condom?” he asks, his words momentarily shattering the tension, leaving the air thick but still.

You blink, slightly caught off guard, but quickly recover. “We don’t have to,” you murmur, sensing his hesitation. His brow furrows, so you add, “I have an IUD, and I’m clean. It’s… it’s been a long time for me.” Your words taper off, embarrassment creeping into your cheeks, suddenly feeling vulnerable beneath his gaze.

He studies you for a second, his expression softening before that same, dark hunger returns. “Okay, I just wanted to make sure,” he rumbles, his voice like molten velvet, sending shivers racing down your spine. The sound of him, the depth of his tone, makes your body respond instinctively—your pussy clenches with anticipation, aching for him to fill the emptiness inside you. “It’s been a long time for me, too. So, I’m sorry if I don’t last long…”

You shake your head, silencing his concern with a gaze that speaks louder than words. You need him, now. The heat between you both is unbearable, every second a sweet kind of torture. You guide the head of his cock to your entrance, teasing yourself by gliding him along your folds, feeling his hardness slick against your wetness, sending delicious tremors through your body.

Slowly, you position him at your opening and sink down.

The stretch is exquisite—a burn that ignites every nerve as he fills you inch by glorious inch. He’s thick, and the sensation of him sliding deeper feels like nothing you’ve ever known. Your breath catches in your throat, and you swear you hear him curse under his breath, his grip on your hips tightening as he savors the feel of your walls closing around him.

“Fuck…,” he groans, his voice wrecked, vibrating through you like a shockwave. “So damn tight.”

“Yeah…” you pant, your head spinning, your body adjusting to his size. Inch by agonizing inch, until finally, he’s fully seated inside you. You pause, trembling, your insides fluttering as he twitches deep within. You let out a soft moan, your lips searching for his in a fevered kiss, one that feels more like a collision than anything tender.

When you pull away, your gaze locks with his, your voice barely above a whisper. “You feel so fucking good… like you’ve always belonged there.”

He hums in response, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure as he traces your body with his hands, unable to take in enough of you. “You’re perfect,” he breathes, the words low and reverent.

Bracing your hands on his broad shoulders, you lift yourself slowly, your body trembling with anticipation. Then, with a burst of need, you slam down, impaling yourself on his cock, a scream of pleasure ripping from your throat. Namjoon moans, the sound guttural and raw, as you ride him with renewed vigor, losing yourself in the rhythm.

Your breasts bounce with each thrust, catching his attention, and without hesitation, his hands move to cup them. His lips trail down to one nipple, his mouth warm and eager as he takes it between his lips. You gasp at the sensation, a surge of heat flooding your core, and you feel a gush of wetness coat him as your body responds to his touch. You didn’t realize you’d come until the tremors hit, your pussy clenching tightly around him, your body quivering in waves of pleasure.

His tongue circles your nipple, flicking it gently before his teeth graze the sensitive bud, and the sensation sends you spiraling. Your breath stutters as he switches to your other breast, his hands roaming, kneading your skin, every touch heightening the electricity between you. Just as his mouth closes around your other nipple, his teeth accidentally bite down harder than intended, and a sharp cry escapes your lips—his name, ripped from your throat like a plea and a curse all at once.

He freezes, eyes wide, concern flashing across his face. But the look you give him—wild, consumed with lust—tells him everything he needs to know.

“I’m so fucking sorry—,” he gasps, but his words barely register through the haze of pleasure clouding your mind. Your gaze softens, your eyes half-lidded with desire, a gentle delirium swirling in their depths.

“No, no, it was good, Joonie,” you whisper, your voice a breathy melody. Your hand drifts to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in the damp strands of his hair, tugging lightly. “I loved it.”

He pauses, a chuckle rumbling from deep within his chest, and you feel the twitch of his cock still buried inside you, a silent promise of more. His lips descend to your chest again, worshipping your skin with slow, languid kisses. His tongue finds your nipple, teasing it with a delicate flick before sucking, nipping just enough to make you moan his name, the sound a song on your lips.

Your body trembles, another orgasm crashing over you like a summer storm, your walls tightening around him in waves of bliss. He groans, a low, primal sound vibrating through your entire being. “Fuck, you—” His voice breaks with need as he rises from the bed, lifting you effortlessly, his body still entwined with yours. In one swift motion, he turns and lays you back down, pressing you into the sheets, his hips surging forward with raw intensity.

“This fucking pussy,” he growls, the words so feral, so laced with hunger that it sends a jolt of heat through you, your toes curling as your body responds to the deep, relentless thrusts. You moan, overwhelmed by the sensation of being pushed up the bed, your fingers gripping the sheets in desperation. Could you come again? Already, your body is teetering on the edge, caught in the rhythm of his passion.

He leans down, his breath hot against your ear. “You look so gorgeous, baby,” he rasps, each word dripping with lust as his hips drive into you again, leaving you breathless, your chest heaving as though all the air has been stolen from your lungs.

“Are you gonna come again?” he asks, his voice rough with need. You bite your lip, uncertain if you can, but the fire in your core tells you otherwise. Your hand slips between your bodies, fingers seeking out your clit. Everything is so slick, so impossibly wet, but you manage to find that perfect rhythm, circling the sensitive nub as your breath hitches in your throat.

It’s like the tide pulling you under—a tidal wave of pleasure crashing over you with blinding force. Your orgasm overtakes you, your body shaking beneath him as you cry out his name, each syllable a desperate plea, a prayer to the god of ecstasy. You thrash beneath him, lost in the throes of release, and still, he keeps thrusting, deep and deliberate, as your body flutters around him, the aftershocks rippling through you.

“Fuck, that was so hot,” he groans, his voice thick with desire as his cock twitches inside you, on the edge of release. “I’m not gonna last much longer.” With a final, powerful thrust, he spills into you, his warm seed filling you as his orgasm hits him hard, his body trembling with the force of it. His face—god, it’s beautiful in this moment—the way his lips part, how his brow furrows in pleasure, how he keeps moving, riding out the last waves of his climax until he begins to soften inside you.

Both of you are left panting, gasping for air like you’ve surfaced from the depths of the sea. He collapses beside you, pulling you close, your bodies still warm, still trembling. Your chests rise and fall in sync, the silence between you heavy with shared satisfaction.

“That was amazing,” he murmurs, his voice a soft rasp against your ear.

You chuckle, cheeks flushed and glowing. “Yes… we should definitely do that again.”

He turns on his side, his fingers brushing your arm tenderly as he gazes at you, eyes filled with warmth. “We really should.”

But then, out of nowhere, a ripple of anxiety courses through you, tightening your chest. You turn to him, your heart suddenly heavy. “Can we really make this work?” you ask, your voice small, vulnerable. “You, being a merman… and me, human?”

Namjoon’s expression softens, his gaze tender as he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose. His hands trace soothing circles along your back, grounding you in the moment. “Yes,” he whispers, his voice filled with quiet certainty. “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll make it work. We have to.”

In his arms, wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, the world feels possible again.

→ Taglist: @allie-is-a-panda @jeonsbabygirlsworld @bangtannie7 @suker4angst → Disclaimer: the banner is obviously partly made with AI— I just want to point that out, to clear the air. I’d normally never use AI in my work, but for this specific fantasy series, I just came up really sort with making them myself with pre existing images of bangtan 😭 Because I want a certain aesthetic (no, a moodboard is not what I was looking for), I decided to use AI to crunch out the merman— I did not, and I repeat this, I did not write any of their names for the prompts, which is also why I do not want to show any faces in these banners, because I know how the guys feel about making AI with them, and I agree. Which is why, this is in short just generically made images that are prompted by a scene in the story. In the end, I still made the banner— did retouching, color grading, added and/or removed stuff, added background etc. Just to let you know. Normally, all my banners and graphics are made by me, unless otherwise stated! (lol, what I mean here is that I’m making them myself, I still sometimes use stock photos and vectors made by others in my work (the banners)). → Author’s note(2): Only four mermaid stories left now! 🥳I hope you’ll like the other ones as well, and please let me know what you liked; you’re always welcome to leave me a comment, a reblog or an ask 🥰 Thank you so much for reading, love you 💜

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heloflor · 9 months ago

Text

A bunch of thoughts after the Showtime transformations trailer. This was supposed to be about the Cowgirl and Ninja one but then I got inactive for a while and another trailer dropped, so this post is about both.

Btw for those wanting to see more than the trailers, the descriptions for the Showtime trailers of Nintendo Japan, Nintendo of America and Nintendo France/Italy all have a link that leads to different sites, each with their own footage (the French and Italian ones are similar). I believe the youtube channel GamesXplain is also trying to group all the footage. It does spoil more things though.

Anyways, thoughts under the cut (around 3.2k words):

- Screaming biting clawing feeling insane I’M SO EXCITED FOR THIS GAME!!! WHAT DO YOU MEAN I HAVE TO WAIT ANOTHER MONTH FOR IT?!

- Very relieved they didn’t change anything other than the box art (not that they would have had the time to since the game is coming out this march, though the icon on the switch home menu will sadly probably be changed to the new art).

- Favorite design overall has to be Dashing Thief Peach. I adore the vibes going on with this costume! I’m also a big fan of Swordfighter (love the “fictional version of the Renaissance-era West-Europe” aesthetic), Figure Skater (the costume is so pretty!), Mermaid (also incredibly pretty, tho it’s funny how mermaid being the only one with her usual haircut makes her look almost weird compared to the other transformations), and Kung Fu (I especially like the color scheme).

I also really like Cowgirl Peach, though with that new trailer it’s going down a bit (she has an attitude I really like, it’s very unique for a character like Peach but there’s a level of playfulness to it that makes it work well, or maybe it’s the knowledge she’s acting, idk. And for some reason the Pow//ser shipper in me is very happy about Cowgirl Peach having horns on her hat).

- Least favorite is Mighty Peach. I want to say it’s because the design is too “basic” but in reality I think it’s just that I’m completely indifferent to Superheroes so this one just does nothing for me. I mean Detective Peach has a basic design and I’m giving it a pass since it’s a reference, which I’m pretty sure Mighty Peach is as well. So yeah, I think it has less to do with the design itself and more with it being a superhero transformation. The “stereotypical superhero run” she does is hilarious tho (from the french/italian websites).

I’m also not a big fan of Patissiere Peach, I think it’s the check pattern of her dress that I just don’t find appealing.

I also originally thought that I didn’t like Ninja Peach but in reality it’s one specific render that I dislike, the one where her scarf covers her mouth. I have no idea why I don’t like this render in particular but yeah, outside of it I do like Ninja Peach.

- Gameplay wise, Dashing Thief and Ninja Peach seem to be the most interesting (yes I like platforming, the stealth elements look really interesting too). Cowgirl Peach also looks really cool with a few diverse ideas. I’m pretty curious about what the Detective Peach segment will fully be about as well. Same for Figure Skater Peach, I’m very intrigued by it.

- Least favorite gameplay wise will probably be Patissiere Peach since I’m not really into that kind of games, with second being Swordfighter Peach due to how straightforwards and repetitive it looks. I also want to say I’m not sure how I feel about Mighty Peach’s gameplay, but again I think it’s just the superhero aesthetic I’m not into (I swear I don’t hate superheroes, I just don’t vibe with it, I also don’t like the “chosen one” trope which probably doesn’t help).

- Funnily enough, despite not finding the Patissiere segment all that interesting, I’m surprised there are no new minigame-centric costumes. Considering the original trailer gave us two action-oriented costumes (Kung-Fu and Swordfighter) and two minigames-oriented ones (Detective and Patissiere), I expected another two or three minigames ones. Like even Figure Skater is about beating up bad guys, and Mermaid Peach is more about exploring than music (ngl I expected a musical show at some point and Mermaid Peach would have been the perfect choice for it. Wdym Kingdom Hearts 2 did it and it sucked?).

That being said I’m still happy with what we got bc my main “fear” about there being too many action-oriented roles is with the possibility of the gameplay feeling too repetitive from one play to another. But from the looks of it, every play still remains unique, with each having their own way to beat up the sour bunch, so it’s all good!

On that note, Figure Skater Peach defeating enemies by dancing with them is the most Peach thing ever and low-key makes me wish the other action-oriented costumes also had unusual fighting styles (which might also be why as mentioned later I’m hoping for a magical girl finale).

- And since I mentioned repetitive gameplay, I’m glad they went with Mermaid instead of Pirate as some theorized, since with the Swordfighter transformation already being a thing, having a pirate one would have gotten repetitive.

- Also, despite not being a fan of Patissiere Peach, I’m still very happy that they gave Peach a baking-related transformation, considering how often her making cakes gets brought up in the mainline games. It’s a really sweet way to embrace and expand on such a recurring element.

- Thinking about it, Ninja Peach is pretty funny in concept. All those years of sneaking around Bowser’s Castle (or her own castle when Bowser takes it over) to send letters and items to Mario are finally paying off!

- In general all the transformations can be justified. Patissiere? She’s been into baking for years. Swordfighter? Doesn’t at least one Olympics game has a fencing minigame? Cowgirl? She’s been in enough sports to justify the use of a lasso, and at least one Olympics game has horse-riding. Ninja? Sneaking around is nothing new to her, same for platforming. Detective? She’s a smart person, of course she can do it. Kung Fu? Isn’t there a martial arts category in one of the Olympics games, meaning that even if it’s obviously not the same sport with the same techniques, it still justifies her ability to learn another sport that centers around physical fighting?

- Continuing on with the new transformations: Figure Skater? It’s in the Olympic Games. Dashing Thief? It seems to center around platforming so it’s nothing new to her. Mighty/Superhero? While unsure if it’s an actual attack the blast from her arms reminds me of the guns from the Rabbids games, and even outside of that the sport games can again justify her punching things. Mermaid? She 100% would, and if you want to dig deeper Superstar Saga claims her voice to be special.

- The more info and costumes we get about this game, the more it seems the internet understands why Bowser feels the way he does, which I find to be very funny.

- On that note, I’m incredibly happy to see not only how much Nintendo is promoting this game but also how positive the reception has been so far. Peach deserves her first fully original game to be a commercial success!

- There’s probably something to be said about how “games made for girls” (with the exception of indie games) usually suck with little effort put into them and how Showtime in comparison is a breath of fresh air that’s even able to include elements like dressing up while still taking their female audience seriously and giving them a high-quality product, but I don’t know enough about the topic to really say something meaningful about it.

- As someone who headcanons Peach as a Toad whose gem is what gives her human appearance, the fact each of her costumes (except Mighty) keep said gem makes me very happy.

- I’m curious what the final boss is going to be. Will we have a long level as some medley using all costumes one after the other? Will it be a brand new costume? Will it be normal Peach using Stella? Personally I’d love for the final boss to have a unique costume (*cough* Magical Girl *cough*), though I could also see the normal Peach one to allow Stella to punch Grape for ruining her theater, though the latter would kinda go against the point of the game being about theater and the costumes/acting. But I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

- On that note, while I would go “the game ends with Grape dying bc Nintendo had killed their villains in RPGs many times”, I could also see something along the lines of Luigi’s Mansion 3 where at the end everyone lives and explains that all they wanted was to be included in the play, including Grape. So the game would end with Stella letting Grape and the Sour Bunch become actors as long as they stop doing shit like that and help cleaning up the mess.

Considering how kind of a person Peach is, an ending like that could work, and again it’s been done before with Luigi’s Mansion 3. Plus I’m pretty sure I saw a yt comment pointing out that as far as we know Peach is helping for the sake of helping, which is kind of true (unless it turns out her Toads get kidnapped). So far, it seems Peach has no personal stakes in this, unlike Mario going on adventures to save her or Pauline or prevent Bowser from taking over Kingdoms, and Luigi fighting the Boos to save his brother. So if she does have no personal stakes, it’s even more fitting with her unending kindness.

Granted I could also see the game ending with the Sour Bunch being defeated, or the Sour Bunch apologizing while Grape dies or is shunned from the group just like how King Boo is fully defeated in Mansion 3 and it’s the other ghosts who turn out to be nice.

- And since I keep comparing it to Luigi’s Mansion, does Luigi do the “thank you so much for playing my game” at the end of it? No bc if he does I want Peach to do so as well (on a related note I miss the characters saying “Nintendo” at the beginning of the DS games :( The Animal Crossing one was freaky I loved it)

- I’m curious how many segments we will play as “normal” Peach compared to the costume segments. Looking at the trailers and websites, my theory is that the first play (which seems to be Swordfighter) will have a fairly long segment with Normal Peach as tutorial before the transformation, while the other plays will have like one room/zone/screen with Normal Peach to set the tone and then immediately throw you into the transformation in the next room. Unless they throw some dialogues or puzzles at the beginning of each show to have Normal Peach stick around longer.

- Speaking of Normal Peach her little dancing animation when helping one of the theater people from the american website is absolutely adorable. I also love her idle animation.

- And since I’m talking websites, random observations but from the looks of it we will get a small cutscene both as Peach transforms and at the end of each segment. We can see it on the french/italian websites with Patissiere Peach giving a wink or the part from the trailer with Dashing Thief Peach paragliding in front of the moon, like she just escaped the place she stole from.

- On that note, I’m also curious what the coins will allow you to buy. More health? Something like Luigi’s Mansion 3 where you can buy a bone to stay alive? Some random collectibles?

- The voice will definitely take some time to get used to but I’m fine with it! I wouldn’t even call her new voice deep, it’s just a regular woman’s voice. Mario 64 gives her a “lower” voice than usual and it works very well.

Plus, Patissiere and possibly Figure Skater Peach use her usual higher pitch. “Normal” Peach also has her standard voice. So it does seem like this isn’t a permanent change, it’s just Peach being a good actor and changing her register to fit the character she’s playing as.

So while it will feel weird due to it being different, it’s a choice I can get behind (It might also feel weird due to Wonder keeping her high-pitched voice and even making it higher than usual at times, like when she gets a wonder seed; on that note Wonder is likely more proof that the change isn’t permanent; crazy how quick people are to forget this very recent game when freaking out about how Showtime might “change” Peach).

Gotta say I was surprised to hear Mermaid Peach having a deeper voice, but it’s also very fitting for a “siren” character to have this type of voice. It’s also funny that what is arguably the one overly-feminine costume is also the one with the deepest voice (her Figure Skater and Patissiere designs are also incredibly feminine but mermaids/sirens tend to be almost-exclusively women in stories and folklore).

Last minute addition since a few people were able to try out the game yesterday and put up some footage: the one negative thing I can say about her voice is that Normal Peach sounds very soft and quiet. I’m completely fine with her “Peach time” line and the noises she makes when using the ribbon, but other than that her “show time” and “let’s go” when entering a level on top of her cheering when unlocking something are all surprisingly lacking in enthusiasm.

It’s especially obvious when compared to the extended gameplay for Patissiere Peach who has a very cheerful and energetic tone. Now you could say Figure Skater Peach also has a softer tone but considering she’s acting and given the “serene” look on one of her promotional renders, it works. That’s also why I have nothing negative to say about her energy in the other costumes, she’s acting so it works. Then again given Patissiere is also a role I guess you could argue that her usual cheerfulness is actually her acting when being a Princess. 🤷‍♂️

(I’m actually surprised I wrote this much about the voice since, like I said, I’m fine with the changes. Like I’m looking at this part and going “I literally don’t care about it why is this so long???”. Tho I think it has to do with a mix of seeing other people focusing on it so I want to give my opinion, on top of some lingering worries of what Nintendo is going to do with Peach’s character in the years to come what with the mo//vie potentially influencing them; but yeah if it wasn’t for that worry I wouldn’t bat an eye about her voice being different.

This is actually a feeling I have about this game as a whole. Had the mo//vie either not come out or written Peach properly, I would be head over heels for Showtime without any apprehension since nothing about that game indicates a change in character.

But as it stands, part of me can’t help but be wary of what future games after Showtime will do with her, especially when looking at how much she smirks and her Cowgirl transformation on top of the deeper voice, all of which I would be completely fine with had the mo//vie not portrayed her the way it did. The box art change doesn’t help either.

Another reason I’m “blaming” the mo//vie for it is bc making that comparison post made me realize just how much I like Peach’s character. So no mo//vie with a bad portrayal, no comparison post, no realization, no concerns. And yes, having such worries over some random fictional character due to one portrayal out of fifty is both very dumb and very frustrating, I’m very much aware of that.)

- On a more negative note, I was originally 50/50 on the Kung Fu box art change (like her being more expressive, dislike the use of Mo//vie Peach’s facial features) and after seeing how expressive her game model is in that trailer and the new renders, I’m now fully against the box art change. They literally could have used the face she does in her kicking animation during the Kung Fu transformation from the get go, instead of putting a barely-emotive one and replacing it with a different character!

(And for the center one, if they wanted Peach to have a confident smirk on the box art, why not introduce Cowgirl Peach in the very first trailer and then have her on the box? Just saying)

- Not sure why but her eyebrows in particular bother me when looking at the box art changes. I’ve got two theories though:

1. I’m just used to how her face looks in the games so it being different makes it look weird. Especially since I have no issues with her having longer eyebrows when the rest of her face stays the same like in the Adventures Co//mic, some Stri//kers renders, some of the Showtime renders or even her in-game model for some transformations (tbh the difference in-game is so ridiculously small that complaining about it would be stupid, like that’s even more nitpicky than nitpicking). Or maybe it’s just the knowledge that the new art was based on the mo//vie, idk.

2. Considering the eyebrows didn’t bother me in the mo//vie but do in the box art, it might be due to people talking about how much more expressive the new art is, and eyebrows are heavily used when it comes to characters expressions so it’s easy to point the finger at them.

- Talking about all this actually makes me wonder if the box art change might have influenced some of the promotional renders, most notably the Cowgirl and Mighty “attacking” ones. But looking at how their eyebrows are drawn compared to the new Kung fu one, it doesn’t seem like it. Plus, the Kung Fu one was changed due to being on the cover. Then again, maybe there was in fact some influence, who knows.

- On that note, there’s something ironic about Cowgirl Peach, aka the costume based on the US, being the one whose facial expressions in the renders have a cockiness that could fit Mo//vie Peach very well, Mo//vie Peach being an original character from an US movie.

- With that said I’ve seen people complain about her dress being more like the mo//vie and I just don’t understand where this is coming from, including after going back to look at the mo//vie design. The most change I can think of is the bust part having visible stitches, but I see it the same way I see Mario in Odyssey having much more detailed overalls. Plus, the shoulder and “outside of stitches” parts in the mo//vie version are a darker shade of pink (at least it is in the wiki render), which isn’t the case in Showtime unless I’m missing something.

So yeah, I don’t see it. Had they added golden embroidery around her gem I would’ve understood the complains, but as it stands all they did was put one more detail on the dress, along with making the fabric more visible in general. Smash Bros have done more with it. Look I’m the first to agree Mo//vie Peach is a terrible adaptation and I don’t want her anywhere near the games, but there’s a difference between genuine complains and complaining for the sake of complaining.

- Oh yeah and I’m not buying the new joy cons. This shit is expensive and I already got working ones. Unless they put some art on it rather than just being one color, bc as it stands “it’s a joy con but pink!” isn’t enough to convince me to buy.

#Super Mario #Princess Peach #Princess Peach Showtime #Flor talks #long post #so excited for this game !!!!!!!#but yeah for the box art I already considered printing the old box version and putting it on top once I get the game #and this new trailer convinced me to do it #it will be in black and white but fuck it; I’m going on a useless war against a drawing #on that note the more we see of this game the funnier the new box art is bc the middle one stands out SO MUCH #especially when the websites keep putting her with the other Normal Peach renders; it’s hilarious how bad this looks in comparison #(would you believe me if I said this was supposed to be a small post but I just kept adding to it ?)

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