I TRIED FOLLOWING YOU ALL ON MY NEW ACCOUNT.. i accidentally removed my email from my account and idk my password, im actually so extremely dense I DONT KNOW HOW I DID THIS..
anyways, i emailed tumblr about it but theres essentially nothing they could do about it.. i asked if there was a way to reset my account but they had nothing to prove i was… ME.
SIGH.
ANYWAYS (again) my new account is @fatalwonie and now that i have a working account, i can write more frequently cause ive been just stuffing finished books into my drafts
Synopsis: Each full moon, a sacrifice is left in the woods for the beast. This time, it’s you. But Heeseung doesn’t want your death. He wants your fear, your heat, your body—and he wants to chase you first. You run. He hunts. And when he catches you, he doesn’t stop until you’re knotted, claimed, and too wrecked to escape again.
Wordcount: 11k
a/n: one thing about me.. im a sucker for predator/prey dynamics :D reblogs and commentary are appreciated!
The beast, they say, likes innocence. But not in the holy sense. Not in the pure sense.
In the raw, untouched, untouched-by-anyone-but-him sense.
So he could spill the fresh blood. So he could touch unmarred, soft skin — the kind that bruises easily beneath claws, that parts sweetly under teeth, that shakes when it realizes this isn’t a sacrifice.
It’s a claiming.
You thought you wouldn’t be chosen. After all, there were plenty of sweet, unmarried women in the village. Girls softer than you. Girls who flushed easier. Girls who looked like they’d beg to be kept.
You weren’t one of them.
You were quiet. Tired. Too curious for your own good. You looked at the woods too long when no one else would. You didn’t tremble in fear when they whispered the beast’s name, you leaned closer. So when the knock came just before dusk, and you opened the door to find the village elders standing in shadow — one of them holding red silk…
You realized. You were chosen this time.
You spent the rest of the night staring at the ribbon. It sat on your table like a curse — or a promise. Rich red, soft to the touch, but too heavy in your hands. The kind of red that meant blood, or love, and in this village, the difference had long since blurred. You didn’t eat. You didn’t sleep. You just sat there, legs pulled to your chest, eyes never leaving the silk. It felt warm against your fingers. Or maybe that was your skin. Your fear. Your shame. Or something else.
When the wind howled through the cracks in your walls, you flinched. But that wasn’t the sound that froze you.
It was the other howl. The one farther off — too low, too deep to belong to any normal animal. The kind that crawled beneath your skin and pressed against your ribs.
The full moon was close. And he was already calling.
You curled tighter, burying your face in your knees. Like you could block it out. Like the walls would keep the howl from reaching your bones. But it wasn’t a sound anymore.
It was a pull. Low. Heavy. Stretching down your spine, threading heat between your thighs,
making your stomach knot in a way that wasn’t just fear.
Something was waking up inside you. Something that wanted to be caught.
You hated it. You hated the way your body responded — the way your skin prickled, the way your legs pressed together, trying to hide the pulse building there. But the howl had found its way beneath your skin.
You could still feel it echoing through the night. Feel him. Not a myth. Not a monster. A man, maybe. Once. Now something else entirely. Something older. Starved. And for whatever reason, something in him had decided you were his.
You didn't sleep. You didn't cry. You just listened. To the woods. To your heartbeat. To the distant sound of something big, something hungry, pacing the edge of the trees. Waiting.
The night of the full moon arrived faster than you could have imagined. One moment, you were sitting on your bed, knees pulled tight to your chest, panic blooming in your lungs—
and the next, you were standing in the middle of the village, barefoot and silent, surrounded by eyes that wouldn’t meet yours.
Someone had knocked. Someone had spoken your name. You couldn’t remember how you got here—only that you were walking, and they were watching. You were brought to the house of the village healer. Not a single word was spoken as the women guided you inside. They moved around you like shadows—practiced, calm, like this wasn’t the first girl they’d stripped bare beneath the full moon.
Your shift fell to the floor in a hush, and warm hands guided you to sit on a woven mat.
Then the oil came. Hot. Heavy. Fragrant.
It wasn’t just rubbed into your skin—it was poured, worked into every inch of you. Your thighs, your stomach, your chest. Behind your ears. Between your legs. They touched you like it was sacred. Like you were being anointed for slaughter or seduction.
The oil didn’t just sit on your skin. It clung. It sank in. It sweetened your scent into something ripe, something ripe and ready. It made you soft. Glowing. Touched by heat and jasmine and honey and sin.
You didn’t speak. You didn’t breathe too hard. Because if you did, you feared you might shatter.
Your hair was pulled into a tight braid—neat, elegant, nothing for him to grip unless he chose to. The gown they slid over your body was white, thin, and clung like second skin.
Then came the red silk.
First around your waist—low, tied like a ribbon that could be yanked loose with one tug. Then your thighs—soft, suggestive, as if framing what was his. And finally, your wrists—just tight enough to suggest surrender, just loose enough to invite escape.
You were wrapped like a gift. A gift in sin. A body made to be opened. Mouth parted in silence. Thighs shining with oil. You didn’t know what time it was. Didn’t know how long you had. You only knew the door would open soon. And they would lead you into the forest.
Into the clearing. Into the moonlight. Into his arms.
You were then guided to the outskirts of the woods. The gown clung to your thighs with every step, the red silk trailing behind you like a leash of blood. The women who walked beside you — your escorts, said nothing until the trees were close enough to cast long shadows across your path.
You tried not to cry, tried not to look back, but your fingers twitched in their bindings, and your breath hitched every time the trees got closer. They brought you to the very edge of the forest—where green meets black. Where warm air turns cool and damp and wrong. Where the roots rise from the ground like twisted fingers, waiting to snare.
That’s where they stopped and stepped back. One of them—a woman whose name you didn't know but whose hands had oiled your thighs—placed a palm to your back. “This is as far as we go.” Her voice was quiet, but not unkind. Like someone mourning you before the grave had been dug. “You keep walking now. You keep moving… for the safety of the village. For the sake of everything that keeps us alive.”
You swallowed hard.
She stepped away. The other followed. And then… they left you. Alone. Standing at the threshold of something ancient. Wrapped in silk and soaked in sweetness, body soft and throat tight.
You stared at the path ahead. Dark. Endless. Whispering. And slowly, one trembling foot in front of the other, you stepped into the woods.
The air changed the moment the trees closed in behind you — from open breath to choking silence, from soft village winds to something colder, thicker, soaked in moss and memory and blood that had dried decades ago but still clung to the bark like a warning. The moonlight filtered through the branches in thin, shaking strips, painting your skin in silver and slicing the dark like blades, but even that light felt borrowed — hesitant, as though the moon itself feared what lay ahead.
The path wasn’t marked, and yet you knew where to go. Your body moved as though pulled by thread, as though your feet remembered steps your mind had never taken, and still your chest ached like something sacred was being torn apart within it, not because you feared the thing waiting in the woods, but because some traitorous part of you, buried and starved, was beginning to ache for him.
The deeper you walked, the quieter everything became — no crickets, no leaves, not even the sound of your own breath. It was like the forest had swallowed your presence whole,
as if it were holding itself still for the one who hunted within it.
And yet… you kept walking.
The red silk at your waist clung to your hips like a noose dressed in perfume, the oil on your skin still warm despite the cold, still clinging to you like it had been made not to protect you, but to make you softer, sweeter, easier to taste. And you could feel it now. The heat. Low and crawling between your thighs, humming in your blood, tightening your chest with every step closer. Not arousal, not yet — but the ghost of it. A hunger beginning to mirror the one you knew was already tracking you.
He was close.
You didn’t hear him. You didn’t see him. But your body knew. Knew the way prey always knows the shadow of the thing that’s about to claim it.
You bit your tongue and kept walking, and in the distance, deeper than your senses could reach, a low growl stirred.
It slid beneath your skin like cold water. Instantly, your body obeyed a fear older than thought — stiffening, pausing mid-step, your bare foot sinking just slightly into the damp earth as if even the ground beneath you was warning you not to move. You turned your head slowly, eyes wide, straining to see through the thick dark, but the trees had closed in tighter than before, their trunks blackened, reaching, their branches whispering secrets in a language you couldn’t understand.
The growl had come from the left—low, guttural, not close, but not far. It hadn’t sounded like anything human, but it hadn’t sounded like a beast either.
It sounded like want.
Your eyes darted through the shadow-cloaked underbrush, searching for the shape that didn’t belong, the flash of gold, the shift of breath between the leaves.
But you saw nothing. Just the trees. Just the dark. Just the silent windless forest waiting like it knew what would happen next. Your heart thundered in your chest, so loud you wondered if he could hear it. If he could taste it. If he was listening.
Another rustle behind you—too fast to be the wind, too fluid to be prey.
You turned again. Nothing.
But you could feel him now. Not just near. Watching. Stalking.
Something about the way the woods wrapped around your skin made you realize you weren’t alone anymore. That you hadn’t been, not since your first step across the treeline. That he'd been there, somewhere, the whole time. And worse than that — worse than the fear crawling through your veins was the heat starting to bloom in your belly. A deep, steady ache, made worse by the silence. By the waiting. By the way your skin suddenly felt too tight, too exposed, like the oil on it had begun to glow beneath his gaze. Like he was already touching you — with nothing but hunger and heat.
You took another step, your breath shallow in your throat, the silk at your wrists brushing your thighs as your hands trembled slightly. You tried to tell yourself it was the cold. It wasn’t.
And then… the bushes in front of you moved.
Not a rustle. Not a breeze. But a deliberate parting, as though the forest itself made way.
You froze, mouth slightly open, heart slamming in your chest like it wanted to escape before you could.
Branches shifted. Leaves sighed.
And then— two golden eyes opened. Not glowing like fire, but burning like something alive — molten, endless, pinned to you like a blade to flesh. Watching. Unblinking. They hovered just above the ground, still shrouded in shadow, low and wild, and for one aching second, that was all there was.
Gold.
Darkness.
Him.
The forest didn’t breathe. Neither did you.
The eyes didn’t blink, but they moved, tilting slowly, tracking the rise and fall of your chest, the way your thighs pressed together, the way your lips parted around a breath you forgot to take.
He saw everything. And somehow… you knew he liked what he saw.
Then — another shift. The sound of something massive exhaling.
A shape began to rise from the underbrush, towering and quiet, body moving with inhuman grace — tall, lean, the faintest shimmer of skin catching moonlight through the trees. Bare chest. Broad shoulders. Hair wild and dark. Something animal in the way he moved, in the way he stalked, slow and hungry, toward you.
But those eyes never left yours.
You didn’t move.
Because that wasn’t a man standing before you.
That was the thing the village feared. That was the beast they’d wrapped you up for. The myth, the monster, the god with blood beneath his nails. And he had found you.
He stepped into the light like he belonged to the night itself. Locked on you like you were already beneath him, chest rising and falling in slow, deliberate breaths, watching you the way a starving thing watches a plate it’s already decided is its last meal.
Your legs were locked, not by fear alone, but by the weight of his gaze, the heat in your belly, the bone-deep realization that whatever was standing there wanted you. Not as a sacrifice. Not as a fleeting thing. But as something to take. To keep.
And then he spoke.
Low. Rough. Velvet dragged over teeth. “You’re prettier than the last one.” The words hit your skin like heat, like shame, like hands you hadn’t earned but already ached to feel.
He took a step forward, slow and deliberate, eyes never leaving yours. “They dressed you up nice,” he said, head tilting, voice like honey gone sour. “All that silk and oil… but that scent underneath? That’s you.” His nostrils flared slightly. His eyes darkened. “You smell like fear,” he whispered. “And something sweeter underneath it.” Another step. “Want.”
The air collapsed between you. Your lips parted, a soundless breath escaping, as if your body was trying to answer him before your mind could form a thought.
Heeseung smiled. Not kind. Not cruel. Hungry. “Do you know what happens next?” he asked. You shook your head before you could stop yourself. Your voice had long since left you. He clicked his tongue once, softly, like he was disappointed — but not surprised. “You run.” Another step. “I chase.” He was close enough now that you could see the veins in his throat, the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands flexed at his sides like he was holding himself back. “And if I catch you—” His voice dropped lower, almost a growl. “—you’re mine.”
The word settled into your chest like heat. Like a promise. Like a brand. “So go ahead,” he murmured, eyes gleaming. “Run.”
The second the command cut through the dark, you didn’t hesitate. You ran.
Your feet tore through moss and damp leaves, lungs heaving, adrenaline screaming through your veins. The silk clung to your skin, tugged at your ankles, fluttered behind you like a flare — like a signal screaming here I am. Take me.
Branches scraped your bare arms, dirt coated your legs, your hair snagged in the low limbs overhead — but you didn’t stop.
If you slowed down, he’d catch you. And gods, what would he do then?
But what you feared more—what sent a sharper pulse of panic through your chest—was that you couldn’t hear him.
No footfalls. No breath. No growling behind you. Just your own frantic gasps.
Until—
A thud. To your right.
You flinched, nearly twisting your ankle on a root, glancing toward the sound. Nothing. You ran harder, heart a war drum in your throat.
Then— a branch snapped directly to your left. You stumbled again, nearly losing balance, eyes wide and wet. Still nothing. And then you heard him laugh. Low. Smooth. Cruel. It echoed through the trees like it belonged here — like the forest itself bent to it. “You run so pretty,” he called. “Like you know it won’t matter.”
You whipped your head around, eyes scanning the dark — too dark — trying to see anything. Trying to see him.
Nothing.
But your body was already reacting. Your thighs were shaking. Your breath catching. Not just from exhaustion. From heat. The silk at your waist clung tighter, soaked through from sweat and oil and something worse — something needier.
“You're dripping,” his voice whispered again, this time behind you, close enough to taste. “And I haven’t even touched you yet.”
You cried out, a sound ripped from your throat, and broke into a faster sprint. You didn’t care where you went. You just needed distance. You needed to run.
The trees closed in around you, branches grabbing at your arms like they were helping him, not you. Your foot caught a root. You fell hard — palms slamming into earth, knees scraping, a whimper bursting from your lips as you scrambled back to your feet.
Then — a flash of movement.
Too fast. Too low. Too close.
You screamed, turned again — and he was there, just far enough away to keep your panic sharp. Half-shadowed. Shirtless. Barefoot. Grinning.
He didn’t run. He walked. Slow. Like a wolf circling prey already too tired to make it interesting. His eyes glowed with something dark and delighted. His chest rose slow, his tongue darting out once, wetting his lips as he drank in the sight of you. “Keep going,” he said, voice low and hot and dangerous. “I’m not done playing yet.”
You ran again. Tears blurred your vision now. Your breath was gone. Your legs barely held you. And still, you ran. But you weren’t fast anymore. You weren’t quiet.
And he was right behind you.
You heard his feet this time, heavy steps through the brush.
You pushed harder, tried to force your body to give more.
And then—
A blur.
Suddenly he was in front of you.
You screamed, skidding to a stop — but he didn’t touch you. He just smiled. Tilted his head. Eyes glowing like embers beneath the moonlight. “Go,” he whispered.
So you ran. Again. And again.
Every time you thought you could hide, he found you. Every time you thought you gained ground, he appeared ahead of you, toying with your direction, herding you where he wanted you. Until finally, your foot gave out and your body collapsed. You couldn’t go any farther.
You crawled a few feet, sobbing, trembling, dirt streaking your thighs.
And then—
A hand around your ankle.
“Caught you.”
You barely gasped before you were yanked backward, dragged through dirt and leaves with a strength that didn’t hesitate. He flipped you effortlessly and suddenly your back met the cold earth, bare thighs parted, red silk clinging to your skin like a second, sinful breath.
Dirt kissed your spine. Oil gleamed on your collarbones. And he was all over you. Knees planted on either side of your hips, body caging yours, forearms braced in the soil beside your head. His chest rose once, shuddering — not from exertion, but from restraint. His nostrils flared. His eyes locked to yours, pupils blown wide and burning gold.
“Fuck,” he muttered, voice thick and low, like it hurt to speak. “You smell like heat and fear… and something sweeter I haven’t tasted yet.” His tongue slid over his bottom lip, slow, greedy. Then he dipped his head, brushing the tip of his nose down your throat, inhaling like your scent was something sacred. “Still going to pretend you didn’t want this?” he whispered, voice curling into your ear like smoke. “That you weren’t soaked the second you saw me?”
Your lips parted. To lie, maybe. To curse him. To scream. But you didn’t get the chance. Because his tongue was already on your skin. He licked a long stripe up your neck, groaning softly — not like a man, but something wilder, deeper, as though you’d just given him water in a desert. And while your body tensed beneath his, caught between panic and a heat you didn’t want to name—
His fingers slid between your thighs.
The silk there was soaked. You knew it. So did he.
His growl vibrated against your neck as he spread you open with a single hand, your legs falling wider without resistance. “You ran so well,” he breathed, dragging his mouth lower. “Now let me show you what you get for losing.” His fingers slipped beneath the red silk, slow at first, dragging the fabric up your thighs like he was unwrapping something he’d been starved for. Your skin burned under his touch, slick with sweat and oil and the heat pooling thick between your legs. “Look at you,” he murmured, voice rough with restraint. “Laid out for me like this… fuck, you’re shaking.” He smiled, not mockingly — adoringly. Like this was what he’d waited for. Like you were what he’d waited for. He pushed your legs wider. You whimpered, hips twitching, breath catching in your throat as the silk tightened around your wrists, pinned beneath you. “Don’t hide,” he growled softly. “Not after you ran so well.”
And then he went lower.
His hands gripped your thighs, thumbs digging into the soft flesh as he leaned down until his breath was hot between your legs. He didn’t touch you yet. He just breathed you in, groaning like it hurt to wait. “God,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “I can smell how badly you want me. Sweet little prey dripping all over herself, all for me.”
Your head tipped back, chest rising in quick, shallow bursts. His grip tightened as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh — gentle, almost loving — then another, higher, closer, teeth grazing but not biting. “I should make you beg,” he muttered. “Should make you cry for it.” Another kiss, right above your slick heat, tongue flicking out just to taste your skin. “But I’ve waited long enough.”
Then his mouth was on you.
Hot. Messy. Devoted.
He groaned the moment his tongue touched you — a deep, guttural sound that vibrated through your thighs as he licked a long, slow stripe through your folds, pressing his face in like he was starved.
He didn’t start gently. He didn’t give you time.
He devoured you.
Tongue flicking, swirling, sucking your clit into his mouth with unholy precision, hands holding your thighs down as your body arched off the forest floor.
You sobbed, hips bucking. He didn’t budge. He growled low — warning you to stay still — and licked harder. “That’s it,” he murmured, voice thick with hunger between sucks. “Give it to me. Let me taste how pretty you sound when you break.”
Your legs twitched beneath his grip, and he only tightened his hold — pinning you down with strong hands on your thighs as his tongue dragged slow, deliberate strokes through your soaked folds, each one rougher, deeper, hungrier than the last.
You moaned, high and wrecked, trying to close your legs, trying to twist away, but he growled deep into your cunt and forced them wider.
“Don’t even think about it,” he rasped against your skin. “You ran. I caught you. Now you take what I give you.” His tongue pressed in again, swirling over your clit, flicking and sucking and teasing just enough to keep you aching, not letting you fall apart too soon — not yet.
Heeseung wanted you desperate.
You cried out again, breath catching in your throat, fingers clawing into the dirt. The silk at your wrists dug tighter into your skin as your body thrashed beneath him.
“That’s it,” he moaned, mouth slick against your cunt. “Squirm for me. Try to run with your legs shaking like that, see what happens.”
You couldn’t answer. Couldn’t speak. The pressure was building, sharp and hot, dragging you toward a climax that felt too heavy to survive.
“You’re gonna come,” he murmured, voice feral, tongue relentless. “I can feel it. I can fucking taste it.” He pressed his face harder between your thighs, his nose brushing against you, his moans vibrating through your clit until your vision blurred.
Your hips jerked. Your thighs clamped — or tried to.
He growled and shoved them wider, the sound vibrating through your whole core. “Come,” he snapped. “Now.”
And you did.
You shattered like glass under his mouth — body convulsing, breath punched from your lungs, tears in your eyes as pleasure crashed through you so hard it left you sobbing.
Heeseung didn’t pause, didn’t relent—not when your body shuddered through its climax, not when your thighs quaked uncontrollably, not when your voice splintered into desperate whimpers. His tongue, wicked and unrelenting, moved with a hunger that felt ancient, as if he’d been starving for you across lifetimes.
“So fucking sweet,” he growled, his voice raw and wrecked, pulling back just enough for the words to spill out. His jaw glistened with your arousal, his dark eyes glinting with feral satisfaction as they locked onto yours. “Dripping for me. Ruined already, and I haven’t even fucked you yet.” The crude edge of his words sent a fresh wave of heat pooling between your legs, your body betraying you with its eager response.
His tongue returned with devastating precision, lapping at your oversensitive folds, delving deep to taste every inch of you. Each stroke was deliberate, dragging through your slickness, teasing the edges of your entrance before plunging back in, curling against your walls in a way that made your hips buck involuntarily. His fangs—sharp, dangerous—grazed your tender flesh, the faint sting blending with pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. The sensation sent raw, primal need surging through your veins, your fingers scrabbling uselessly against the forest floor, desperate for something to hold onto.
With a sudden motion, Heeseung’s claws tore through the remnants of your gown, the delicate fabric shredding like paper under his strength. The red silk cinched around your waist and thighs followed, ripped away in one fluid motion, leaving you utterly bare to the cool night air. But there was no chill—his body was a furnace, radiating heat as he pressed himself closer, his broad shoulders forcing your thighs wider. His claws dug into the soft flesh of your legs, holding you open, vulnerable, and entirely at his mercy.
Heeseung’s mouth was a ravenous beast, devouring you with a focus that bordered on obsession. His tongue swirled around your clit, flicking and teasing before sucking it gently between his lips, the pressure sending white-hot sparks through your core. He alternated between soft, languid licks and firm, relentless suction, keeping you teetering on the edge of another climax. His growls vibrated against your skin, a primal symphony of hunger and possession that made your head spin. His ears, pressed flat against his head, signaled his singular focus—his world had narrowed to the taste, the scent, the feel of you.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he rasped, his voice a low rumble that seemed to shake the earth beneath you. He pulled back just enough to let his words sink in, his breath hot against your slick folds. “So fucking responsive. You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to be mine.” His fingers joined the assault, one thick digit sliding into you, curling against your walls as his tongue returned to your clit, lapping greedily. The stretch was slow, deliberate, his finger pumping in time with his licks, coaxing more slickness from your body until the obscene sound of your arousal filled the air.
Heeseung’s eyes never left yours, fierce and unyielding, drinking in every gasp, every shudder, every broken moan that spilled from your lips. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction as he added a second finger, scissoring them to stretch you further. “Dripping all over my hand, my face. You’re a fucking mess for me.” His thumb brushed your clit as his tongue dove back in, licking a slow, torturous path from your entrance to the sensitive bundle of nerves, savoring every drop of you.
The pleasure was overwhelming, building faster than you could process. Your thighs trembled, trying to close around his head, but his claws held you firmly in place, forcing you to take everything he gave. His fingers thrust deeper, curling just right, while his tongue flicked mercilessly, pushing you toward a precipice you couldn’t escape. “Come for me again,” he growled against your skin, the command laced with a primal edge. “Let me taste it. Let me feel you fall apart.”
Your body obeyed before your mind could catch up, the coil in your core snapping as you came undone. A scream tore from your throat, your back arching off the ground as waves of pleasure crashed through you, your walls clenching around his fingers, your hips grinding against his face. Heeseung groaned, the sound almost pained, as he lapped up every pulse of your release, his tongue relentless, prolonging your climax until you were a trembling, whimpering mess beneath him.
Even as you shuddered through the aftershocks, he didn’t stop. His fingers slowed but didn’t withdraw, his tongue still teasing your oversensitive folds, drawing out every last tremor. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less possessive. “Give me everything, baby. You’re mine to ruin.”
Your hands pushed weakly at his shoulders, a desperate attempt to create some distance, to catch your breath, but he was immovable—a wall of heat and muscle pinning you to the mossy ground.
“Easy,” he murmured, his voice a rough caress that vibrated against your skin, sending shivers through your already trembling body. “I have to prepare you. You’re so fucking tight, and I need to be sure you can take me.” His words were both a promise and a threat, laced with a possessive edge that made your pulse race. His fingers pumped in and out, the slick sounds filling the air as he worked you open, stretching you with a precision that felt almost clinical yet devastatingly intimate.
Your gaze flickered downward, drawn by the sight of his hand moving between your thighs. His fingers glistened with your arousal, coated in a sheen that caught the faint moonlight filtering through the trees. The sight was obscene, undeniable, and it sent a fresh wave of heat flooding through you, your body clenching around him involuntarily. Your eyes drifted further, catching on the tattered remains of his jeans. The fabric was shredded, barely clinging to his powerful thighs, a testament to his wild, untamed nature—a creature of the forest, unbound and feral. But it was the bulge straining against the ruined denim that stole your breath, a thick, hard ridge that seemed impossibly large, promising both pleasure and pain in equal measure.
A gasp slipped from your lips, half shock, half anticipation, and Heeseung’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, dark and knowing. “You see it, don’t you?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make sure you’re ready.” As if to punctuate his words, a third finger joined the first two, the sudden stretch making you moan—a sound caught between protest and pleasure. Your body arched off the ground, adjusting to the fuller invasion, your mind reeling as the sensation pushed you closer to the edge.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice a guttural snarl as he watched your reaction, his eyes glinting with feral satisfaction. “You’re so fucking tight. I don’t know if I can wait much longer.” His fingers moved faster now, plunging deeper, curling against your walls with a skill that made your thighs tremble. His thumb found your clit again, circling it with relentless pressure, the rhythm perfectly synced with the thrusts of his fingers.
You pushed at him again, your hands weak and trembling, but he only pressed closer, his chest rumbling with a low growl as he licked a slow, deliberate path through your folds, savoring every drop of you. “Stop fighting it,” he rasped against your skin, his breath hot and teasing.
His weight pinned you down, a heavy, unyielding cage of muscle and heat that left no room for escape. His body was a furnace, radiating primal desire, marking you with every press of his skin against yours. His tongue traced a slow, deliberate path up your chest, drooling over the sweat and oil that glistened on your body, his lips leaving a trail of wet heat in their wake. He lapped at your skin, savoring every inch, his rough tongue dragging across your collarbone before dipping lower to tease the sensitive curve of your breast.
“Shit,” he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that vibrated through your core, making your thighs tremble. “You taste so fucking good. I could eat you up.” The words were raw, possessive, and they sent a fresh surge of arousal pooling between your legs, your body responding even as your mind struggled to keep up. His fingers never stopped, pumping in and out with relentless precision, curling against your walls to coax more slickness from you. The obscene wet sounds filled the air, mingling with your desperate whimpers and his guttural groans.
“Need to get you wet and ready for me,” he muttered, his voice thick with hunger, his breath hot against your skin. “Open you up so you can take every inch of me. So you can take my knot. So you can take my cum.” Each word was a promise, a claim, dripping with crude possessiveness that made your head spin. Your body betrayed you, clenching around his fingers, the tension in your belly coiling tighter, ready to snap. His thumb circled your clit with punishing accuracy, pushing you closer to the edge with every pass, your moans growing louder, more frantic, as the pressure built to an unbearable peak.
When it hit, it was cataclysmic. Your body convulsed, a broken sob tearing from your throat as waves of pleasure crashed through you, your nails digging into his shoulders, scraping against his skin as you clung to him for dear life. Your vision blurred, your walls pulsing around his fingers, slickness coating his hand as your release overwhelmed you. Tears streamed down your face, the intensity leaving you trembling, gasping, utterly undone beneath him.
But Heeseung wasn’t done—not by a long shot. His eyes darkened, a feral glint flashing as he watched you fall apart, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk. With a low, dangerous growl, he forced a fourth finger into you, the sudden stretch ripping a shriek from your throat. Your body arched off the ground, torn between protest and surrender as it adjusted to the overwhelming fullness. The sensation was too much, too intense, your mind reeling as your walls fluttered around the intrusion, struggling to accommodate him. “That’s it,” he rasped, his voice rough with need. “Take it. Open up for me, baby. You need to be ready for what’s next.”
His fingers moved faster now, relentless, stretching you further as his tongue returned to your clit, licking and sucking with a hunger that made your head spin. “You’re going to take me,” Heeseung growled, his voice a low, dangerous promise that sent shivers racing down your spine. “Every inch of me. And you’re going to love it.” His words hung heavy in the air, laced with a primal certainty that made your core clench despite the overwhelming sensations already consuming you. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your chest heaving as you nodded quickly, unable to form words. The night sky above was a distant blur of stars, their light faint and hazy, your world reduced to the man between your legs—the one who promised to ruin you in the best, most devastating way.
Your body was still trembling from the relentless onslaught of his fingers and tongue when he suddenly pulled his hand free, leaving you achingly empty. A whine of protest rose in your throat, but it died the moment his tongue returned, licking a long, deliberate stripe from your entrance to your clit. His spit mingled with your slick, soaking you further, the wet heat overwhelming as it coated your already sensitive folds. The sensation was too much, a heady mix of pleasure and pain that tore a shout from your lips, echoing into the empty forest air. Your body convulsed as another climax hit, unexpected and brutal, waves of pleasure crashing through you with such force that you screamed, your hands tangling in his hair, gripping tightly as you held on for dear life.
Your vision swam as you came down from the high, your body shuddering with aftershocks, your breath ragged and uneven. Blinking through the haze, you looked down at Heeseung, and a gasp caught in your throat. His face was a glistening mess, your release coating his lips, his chin, dripping down his jaw in an obscene display that sent a fresh wave of arousal pulsing through you. But it was his eyes that stopped your heart. Once sharp and golden, predatory in their intensity, they were now a deep, glowing red, like twin embers burning in the darkness. They locked onto you with a ferocity that was both thrilling and terrifying.
Heeseung’s lips curled into a slow, predatory smirk as he licked his lips, savoring the taste of you, his red eyes never leaving yours. “Look at you,” he rasped, his voice low and rough, almost unrecognizable in its primal edge. “Falling apart for me, screaming my name. You’re so cute, aren’t you?” His claws tightened on your thighs, keeping you spread open as he leaned in again, his tongue flicking out to tease your oversensitive clit, drawing a broken whimper from your lips. Your hands pushed weakly at his head, a futile attempt to slow him down, but he only growled, the sound vibrating against your skin, sending another jolt of pleasure through your trembling body.
He rose slightly, his massive form looming over you, the tattered remnants of his jeans barely clinging to his thighs. The bulge straining against the fabric was even more pronounced now, a thick, intimidating promise of what was to come. His hand moved to the waistband, claws tearing through the last of the shredded denim with a single, savage motion, freeing his cock. It sprang free, heavy and thick, the sight making your breath hitch, a mix of fear and anticipation twisting in your gut.
Your fingers clawed at the mossy ground, nails digging into the damp earth as you tried to crawl away, a desperate bid for a moment’s reprieve. But Heeseung was too quick, too strong, his reflexes honed by something far beyond human. His hands gripped your waist, claws sinking into your soft flesh just enough to sting, anchoring you in place. With a swift, fluid motion, he flipped you over, forcing you onto your knees and elbows. The cool forest air hit your exposed skin, your ass lifted high, vulnerable and trembling under his gaze. His hands moved with purpose, pulling your hips up to align you perfectly, positioning you exactly as he wanted—open, helpless, his.
A low growl rumbled from his chest as his hand pressed down on the back of your neck, pinning you to the ground with a strength that felt like iron shackles. The pressure was unyielding, your cheek pressed into the moss, the earthy scent filling your lungs as you gasped for breath. You could feel the blunt tip of his cock nudging at your entrance, the sheer size of him already stretching your slick folds, a mix of anticipation and fear knotting in your chest. Your body, still reeling from the relentless pleasure he’d wrung from you, trembled beneath him, caught between surrender and instinctual resistance.
“Wait,” you choked out, your voice a broken whisper, barely audible over the pounding of your own heartbeat. “Wait, please—” Your hands scrabbled at the moss, fingers curling around the soft green strands as if they could ground you, give you some semblance of control in the face of his overwhelming presence. But Heeseung only tightened his grip, his claws pricking your skin, a silent command to stay still.
“Shh, baby,” he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous purr that sent shivers racing down your spine. His red eyes glowed in the darkness, fixed on you with a predatory intensity that made your heart stutter. “No waiting. You’re ready for me. You’re fucking made for me.” His free hand slid down your spine, tracing the curve of your back before gripping your hip, holding you steady as he pressed himself closer. The head of his cock pushed against your entrance, the stretch already intense, your body straining to accommodate his size even with the slickness coating your thighs.
You whimpered, your breath hitching as he began to push forward, slow but relentless, the thick length of him forcing its way inside. The burn was immediate, a sharp mix of pleasure and pain that made your vision blur, your fingers digging deeper into the moss. “Heeseung—too much—” you gasped, your voice breaking, but he only growled in response, his hand on your neck tightening just enough to keep you pinned, his hips inching forward with unyielding determination.
But your words were cut off as he slipped inside, the stretch overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that left you screaming. But your scream was drowned out by the loud howl he let out. He kept pushing himself in, inch by agonizing inch, stretching you out fully and raw, your body adjusting to the invasion, your mind reeling from the sensation.
Heeseung’s relentless advance didn’t falter, his thick length pushing into you with a slow, unyielding determination that stretched you impossibly wide. The burn was searing, a dizzying blend of pleasure and pain that tore sobs from your throat, your vision blurring as tears spilled down your cheeks. Your fingers clawed deeper into the moss, the damp earth crumbling beneath your grip as you tried to squirm away, desperate for relief from the overwhelming fullness. “Heeseung—too much—” you gasped again, your voice fracturing, but his hand on your neck tightened, a low growl rumbling from his chest as he yanked you back, pinning you firmly beneath him.
“Mate,” he snarled, the single coherent word cutting through the haze of his feral sounds, heavy with possessive intent. His red eyes burned into you, glowing with an intensity that made your heart stutter, the beast within him fully in control. With one final, deliberate thrust, he sank fully inside you, the stretch so profound it stole your breath. You were so wet, slick with your own arousal and the precum that coated your insides, easing the way but doing little to dull the sensation of being utterly filled. The sheer size of him was beyond anything you’d ever experienced—no amount of his earlier preparation could have readied you for this.
A broken cry escaped your lips, your body trembling as it struggled to accommodate him, every nerve alight with the intensity of his claim. Heeseung was incoherent now, his growls and whines filling the air, raw and primal, his hips pressed flush against yours as he held himself still for a moment, letting you feel every inch of him. His claws dug into your hips, the faint sting grounding you even as your mind reeled, overwhelmed by the sensation of being so completely, impossibly full. You couldn’t blame him for losing himself—you weren’t faring much better, your sobs mingling with breathless moans, your body torn between surrender and the instinct to flee.
“Fuck… so tight,” he managed, his voice barely human, a guttural rasp as his head tipped back, his red eyes glinting in the moonlight. His hands tightened, one still pinning your neck, the other gripping your hip as he began to move, slow at first, each shallow thrust dragging against your walls, sending shocks of pleasure-pain through you. You whimpered, your body shuddering with every movement, the slickness making each slide easier but no less intense. His precum continued to spill inside you, warm and thick, adding to the overwhelming sensation, your core clenching around him involuntarily.
Your body was a trembling mess beneath Heeseung, every muscle slack and surrendered to the relentless onslaught of his thrusts. His hips snapped against yours with a brutal, unyielding force, each collision driving him deeper, stretching you to your limits. The wet, filthy squelch of your combined arousal filled the forest air, a lewd symphony that underscored his primal need. Your gasps had dissolved into broken whimpers, your mind lost in a haze of pleasure and pain, your senses consumed by the overwhelming presence of him. His nose pressed into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply, as if your scent was the only thing tethering him to reality. “Mine,” he growled against your skin, the word a possessive mantra, his breath hot and ragged.
“Stop,” you gasped, your voice a frail whisper, barely audible over the pounding of your heart and the obscene sounds of your bodies. “Heeseung, slow down!” But your plea went unanswered. His tip kept slamming into your cervix, each thrust a mix of agony and ecstasy that left you hiccuping, your body convulsing with every punishing impact. You repeated the silent scream in your mind, begging for him to cum, to knot and finish, to end the overwhelming intensity. But Heeseung was lost to his instincts, his red eyes glinting in the moonlight, his growls and whines incoherent as he chased his release.
“More, more, more,” he grunted, his voice a guttural chant as his hips drove into you with a force that stole your breath. Your walls, slick and stretched, clung to him, making each thrust slippery yet impossibly intense. The pressure was unbearable, a constant stretch that kept you teetering on the edge of breaking. You tried to squirm, to ease the overwhelming fullness, but his claws dug into your hips, pinning you in place, his grip unyielding.
Then, abruptly, he pulled out, leaving you gaping and empty, the sudden void almost as excruciating as the fullness had been. A whine tore from your throat, your body aching with need despite the strain. Before you could process the loss, Heeseung’s hands gripped your thighs, flipping you onto your back with a swift, powerful motion. Your body, pliant and exhausted, complied without resistance, your legs falling open as he spread them wide, lifting them up, up, up until they were nearly pressed to your head. The burn in your thighs was sharp, the stretch of your muscles screaming, but it was nothing compared to the raw, pulsing need in your core.
Heeseung loomed over you, his red eyes locked onto your exposed, glistening pussy, the hunger in his gaze so feral it made you shiver. His tongue darted out, licking his lips, drool dripping down his chin in a blatant display of his arousal. “Mmmh so beautiful,” he muttered, his voice a low, guttural rumble as he stared at you, his cock twitching against his stomach, slick with your combined fluids. “So fucking perfect. All for me.” Without warning, he pushed back inside, the sudden fullness ripping a moan of relief from your lips. The stretch was immediate, your walls clenching around him as he filled you completely, the sensation grounding you even as it overwhelmed.
Your moan spurred him on, and he started thrusting without pause, his hips snapping against yours with a force that left you breathless. He leaned over, pressing your legs closer to your head, his full weight bearing down on you, caging you beneath him. The angle drove him deeper, his growing knot grinding against your walls with every thrust, sending shocks of pleasure-pain through your trembling body. “Fuck…” he growled, his voice thick with need. “Gonna knot you so full. You’re gonna carry my cubs, be so fucking big and round. Gonna be a good momma, my perfect mate.”
Your body went slack, every ounce of resistance drained as his words washed over you, crude and possessive, igniting a primal heat despite your exhaustion. Your nails raked down his back, leaving red welts, but the pain only seemed to drive him wilder. His hand slid to your stomach, pressing down firmly, as if he could already feel the swell he promised. “Feel that?” he rasped, his eyes dark and feral, locking onto yours. “That’s where I’m gonna fill you. Gonna stuff you so full, you’ll never forget who you belong to.”
The pressure built, unbearable and all-consuming, your body teetering on the edge of another climax despite the ache. His knot swelled further, catching at your entrance with every thrust, the stretch so intense it made you sob. “Heeseung—please,” you whimpered, unsure if you were begging for mercy or for more. His nose buried in your neck again, inhaling deeply, his growls vibrating against your skin. “Come on baby,” he snarled, his teeth grazing your throat, the threat of a bite sending a jolt through you. “Gonna breed you, keep you full of me.” The thought seemed to drive him wild, his hips grinding harder, more insistent, chasing that final connection, his knot swelling and catching with every movement.
But you were too far gone to process his words now, your world reduced to the overwhelming sensation of him. Your eyes rolled back, lids fluttering uselessly, your mouth slack and drooling as small, broken gasps spilled from your lips. Your body trembled beneath him, overstimulated and pliant, every nerve alight with the relentless rhythm of his thrusts. The room spun, your senses drowning in the heat of his skin, the weight of his body, the way he seemed to consume you entirely.
Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, spilling over and streaking down your cheeks, a silent testament to the intensity that had you teetering on the edge of oblivion. You barely registered the shift in his movement until you felt the warm, rough slide of his tongue against your cheek, lapping at the tears with a guttural groan. His lips lingered on your skin, tasting the salt of your tears as his thrusts grew more erratic, his knot pressing harder against you, demanding entry. He was relentless, his groans vibrating against your face as he chased that final moment, his body shuddering with the effort. “Just a little more,” he growled, his teeth grazing your jaw. “You can take it, can’t you?”
You were too lost to answer him, your mind a blissful haze where nothing existed but him—his scent, his voice, his consuming presence. Shaking and trembling, your body was stuck in a limbo, every thrust pulling you deeper into euphoria. Your mouth hung open, drool pooling at the corner, your eyes half-lidded and unseeing as you surrendered to the sensation. Overstimulated beyond reason, your thighs quaked, slick with arousal that coated him, easing the tight slide of his knot as he worked it deeper. Tears streamed down your cheeks, not from pain but from the overwhelming intensity, and Heeseung kept lapping at them, his tongue warm against your skin. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he rasped. “Crying for me, taking me so well.”
Heeseung’s gaze roamed over you, dark and worshipful, as if you were a divine offering laid bare for him. “God, look at you,” he murmured, his hands tracing your trembling form, fingers splaying over the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist, before settling on your stomach. “So gorgeous, so wet for me. You’re dripping, baby, making it so easy for me to claim you.”
His words stoked the fire in your core, your body responding with another gush of slick that made his knot catch, then slide fractionally deeper. He groaned, his forehead dropping to yours, sweat-slick and burning. “That’s it,” he whispered, his lips brushing your parted ones, stealing your broken gasps. “You’re perfect, so fucking mine.” Then, with a subtle shift, he changed his angle, his hips tilting just enough to drive himself deeper, the size of him stretching you impossibly further. The new angle made your belly bulge faintly with each thrust, a visible outline of his length pressing against your skin. Heeseung’s eyes darkened at the sight, a primal growl rumbling in his chest. “Oh, look at that,” he said, his voice low and reverent, one hand sliding down to trace the slight swell, his fingers pressing lightly against the bulge. “You’re so full of me, baby. So fucking stuffed.” The pressure of his hand intensified the sensation, sending a fresh wave of heat through you, your body clenching around him involuntarily.
Heeseung’s gaze stayed fixed on the faint bulge in your belly, his hand still pressing gently against it, feeling the way his length moved inside you. His other hand slid lower, his thumb finding your clit with deliberate precision. He circled it slowly at first, the pad of his thumb slick with your arousal, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves until your hips bucked involuntarily.
“God, you’re so fucking wet for me,” he murmured, his voice a gravelly whisper that seemed to vibrate through your core. “Dripping all over me, taking me so deep. You love this, don’t you? Love being stretched out, stuffed full of my cock.” His thumb pressed harder, rubbing tighter circles, and the wet sound of your body responding filled the space, mingling with your ragged breaths. Your thighs trembled, slickness coating his hand as he coaxed more from you, his words unraveling you as much as his touch. “I can feel you squeezing me, baby. You’re gonna make me lose it.”
The heat built unbearably, your body alight with sensation as his thumb worked relentlessly and his thrusts grew deeper, more purposeful. Each stroke dragged against your walls, the overwhelming stretch making you gasp, your arousal slicking down your thighs. Heeseung’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, wild and hungry, his pupils blown wide. “You’re mine,” he growled, his voice primal. “Gonna knot you so much you’ll feel me for days.”
The promise sent a jolt through you, your body clenching around him instinctively. He hissed at the tightness, his pace faltering for a moment before he drove himself deeper, the base of his cock swelling more and more. “Fuck, it’s coming,” he rasped, his grip on your hips tightening, fingers digging into your skin. “You ready for it, baby? Ready to take my knot?”
Your head lolled back, a broken moan spilling from your lips as his thumb pressed down on your clit, sending you spiraling. “Yes, please,” you gasped, your body trembling on the edge. The knot caught at your entrance, teasing, not quite slipping in yet, and the anticipation made you whimper. Heeseung leaned forward, his lips brushing your ear, his breath hot. “You’re gonna take it all, aren’t you? Let me lock you up, fill you till you’re dripping with me.”
With a final, deep thrust, the knot pushed past your entrance, stretching you impossibly wide before settling inside, locking you together. The sudden fullness ripped a scream from your throat, your body seizing as the sensation overwhelmed you. Heeseung threw his head back, a feral howl tearing from him, echoing into the night as he surrendered to the primal urge. His cock pulsed inside you, thick ropes of cum flooding your womb, the heat of it spreading through your core. Your own release crashed over you, your vision whiting out as you clenched around him, milking every drop, your body shuddering uncontrollably.
Heeseung’s howl faded into heavy pants, his forehead pressing against yours as he trembled above you, still locked tight inside. “Fuck… you’re perfect,” he whispered, voice raw, his hand sliding up to cradle your cheek. You could feel the knot holding firm, his cum still warm and heavy inside you, and the intimacy of it left you breathless, clinging to him as you both came down from the high.
Heeseung’s breaths were still heavy, his body pressed close as the knot held you locked together. Slowly, with a tenderness that contrasted the primal intensity of moments before, he eased your trembling legs down from where they’d been hooked around him. They fell limply to the ground, your muscles spent, your body pliant beneath his weight. He stayed close, his warmth enveloping you, his softened gaze tracing over your flushed skin as he began to care for you.
His rough tongue lapped gently at your skin, starting low on your abdomen, the texture sending a shiver through your oversensitive body. He moved upward, dragging his tongue along your chest, tasting the salt of your sweat. When he reached your nipples, he paused, his lips closing around one, suckling softly. The sensation pulled a pathetic whine from your lips, your fingers twitching weakly against the ground, too exhausted to do more than tremble under his touch. He hummed against your skin, the vibration intensifying the feeling, before releasing your nipple with a wet smack, the sound echoing in the quiet.
Heeseung’s nose brushed along your collarbone as he moved higher, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. He inhaled deeply, savoring your scent, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “You smell so fucking good,” he murmured, his voice husky, reverent. The intimacy of it made your heart stutter, but before you could process the warmth of his words, his hand slid to your head, gently but firmly tilting it to the side, exposing the soft curve of your neck.
Without warning, his teeth sank into the tender flesh, sharp and possessive, the sting melding with a surge of pleasure as he ground his hips into you. The movement, sudden and deep, forced the knot to shift inside, pressing against your walls, and another hot spurt of his cum flooded your womb. You gasped, your body arching instinctively, a broken moan spilling from your lips as the sensation overwhelmed you again. His bite tightened briefly, marking you, before he released, licking the tender spot soothingly, his tongue rough yet careful.
Your body twitched lightly on the ground, a soft shudder running through you as the aftershocks of his bite and the knot still locking you together pulsed in your core. Heeseung’s eyes softened at the sight, but his instincts urged him to keep you close. With a gentle yet firm grip, he slid his arms beneath you, lifting you from the cool earth. The sudden movement jostled the knot inside you, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure-pain through your oversensitive walls. A gasp tore from your lips, your nails scraping against his chest as you instinctively clung to him, your head shaking back and forth in a futile attempt to ground yourself.
“Shh, baby, I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, vibrating against you as he settled you on his lap, your legs splayed weakly around his hips. His knot, still swollen and firm, pressed deeper with the new angle, making you whimper as your body trembled uncontrollably. Heeseung’s hands steadied you, one splayed across your lower back, the other cradling your neck as he dipped his head, his rough tongue finding your chest again. He licked slowly, deliberately, cleaning the sweat, dirt, and oil from your skin with long, warm strokes, the texture both comforting and overwhelming.
You whined, your gasps hitching as his tongue trailed higher, lapping at the hollow of your throat, tasting the salt of your exertion. Each swipe sent shivers down your spine, your hands gripping his shoulders weakly, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. “T-too much,” you stammered, voice broken, but he only hummed in response, his tongue unrelenting, soothing and claiming all at once. “You’re perfect like this,” he whispered against your skin, his breath hot, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just below your jaw. “All mine, all messy and sweet.”
Heeseung’s words lingered, soft and possessive, his lips still grazing the sensitive skin below your jaw as he held you close. His knot, still locking you together, began to gradually shrink, the intense pressure inside you easing ever so slightly. The shift allowed you to catch your breath, your body slowly reclaiming sensation as the overwhelming haze started to clear. Your chest heaved with shallow pants, but as you tilted your head downward slightly, a strange realization hit—everything past your chest felt completely numb, save for an uncomfortable, heavy feeling stirring in your stomach.
Curiosity and unease compelled you to glance down, your eyes trailing over your body. What you saw made your breath catch in your throat, a wave of shock and horror washing over you. Your stomach was visibly bulging, swollen in a way that made you look pregnant already. The curve was unmistakable, taut and rounded, as if his release had filled you beyond capacity, leaving a surreal outline against your skin.
Your hands trembled as you instinctively reached down, fingers hovering over the swollen curve, afraid to touch it. “H-Heeseung…” you stammered, voice barely above a whisper, your wide eyes flicking up to meet his. He followed your gaze, his expression shifting from tender to something unreadable, a mix of awe and primal satisfaction. His hand slid down to rest lightly over the bulge, his touch warm but grounding, as if to reassure you.
“Fuck, look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent, though it did little to quell the panic rising in your chest. “So full of me… you’re holding everything I gave you.” His fingers traced the swell gently, almost worshipful, but the weight of his words and the sight of your distended stomach left you reeling, caught between disbelief and the undeniable reality of your body’s transformation.
Your heart pounded as you stared at the impossible bulge of your stomach, Heeseung’s hand still resting gently over it, his touch warm but doing little to ease the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. The knot had shrunk further now, enough that you could feel the subtle shift of his length inside, but the heavy, overstuffed sensation in your womb remained, amplified by the surreal sight before you. Your fingers twitched, finally daring to brush against the taut skin of your belly, the pressure beneath it foreign and overwhelming.
“W-what… what is this?” you whispered, voice trembling, your eyes locked on the swell as panic clawed at your chest. You felt stretched, claimed in a way that was both intimate and unnerving, the reality of being so visibly filled by him sinking in.
Heeseung’s gaze softened, though the primal glint in his eyes didn’t fade entirely. He leaned closer, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath steady as he spoke. “It’s me, baby,” he said, voice low and soothing, though it carried a possessive edge. “You took all of me, every drop. Your body’s just… showing it.” His hand moved in slow, comforting circles over your swollen stomach, as if to ease your shock, but the gesture only heightened your awareness of the unnatural fullness.
You shook your head slightly, a shaky breath escaping as you tried to process it. “It’s… too much,” you managed, voice cracking. The numbness below your chest was starting to fade, replaced by a dull ache that made the bulge feel even more pronounced. You shifted slightly in his lap, and the movement sent a ripple of sensation through you, the lingering slickness and warmth inside making you gasp softly.
Heeseung shushed you gently, his lips brushing your temple as he held you closer, his other hand cradling the back of your head. “You’re okay,” he murmured, his tone firm yet tender. “You’re perfect. So fucking strong for taking me like this.” His words were meant to comfort, but they stirred something else in you, a strange, reluctant pride at how your body had responded to him.
He shifted beneath you, careful not to jostle you too much, as he carefully shifted you both, easing you back onto the mossy ground. The cool, damp moss pressed against your overheated skin, grounding you in the moment even as your mind swirled with conflicting emotions. His knot had softened enough for him to move, but the trickle of warmth leaking from where you were still joined sent a flush of embarrassment burning through you. His words came low and steady, a soothing cadence laced with possessiveness. “You’re doing so good, baby,” he murmured, his hands guiding you with deliberate care. “You were made for this. For me. No one else gets this soft, messy little body. Ever.”
The words hit you hard, and a sob broke from your chest, raw and unbidden. The sensation of his cum shifting inside your swollen womb was overwhelming, a constant reminder of how deeply he’d claimed you.
But as you lay there, trembling under his gaze, you noticed something else—Heeseung was still hard. Impossibly, undeniably hard, his length pulsing inside you, ready for more despite everything.
Panic surged, and your instincts kicked in. You squirmed, trying to pull away, desperate to put some distance between you and the overwhelming intensity of him. Your hands pushed weakly against his chest, your legs twitching as you tried to slip free before he could fully withdraw. But Heeseung was faster, stronger. His hands clamped down on your hips, pulling you back with a firm tug, keeping himself buried inside you. “Where we going, baby, hm?” he cooed, his voice dark and teasing, though there was an edge of warning beneath it. “Why do you wanna leave now? We aren’t done.”
You whimpered, shaking your head, but he only groaned, his hips grinding into you with a slow, deliberate motion that sent a fresh wave of sensation rippling through your oversensitive body. The stretch, the fullness, the way his cum sloshed inside you—it was too much, and a cry tore from your throat, sharp and broken. Heeseung’s hand shot up, gripping your chin firmly, forcing your tear-streaked face to meet his gaze. His eyes were wild, pupils blown, a predator’s intensity burning in them. “Eyes on me,” he growled, his voice low and commanding. “I want to see you break when I start again.”
Your sobs caught in your chest, your body trembling as he held you pinned, his grip unyielding. He leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “You’re all mine now, baby. Let me show you how much you belong to me.” With that, he began to move again, slow and deliberate, his hard length dragging against your walls, and your cries filled the air as he pushed you toward the edge once more, his gaze never leaving yours.
genre. smut, fluff? .˚⊹ pairing. heeseung x fem!reader, best friends to ??? ໒꒱ warning(s). smut, pwp, consensual sex, petname use, praise, dirty talk, nipple play, soft dom!hee, sub!reader, piv, size training?, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap!). word ct. 1221.
synopsis. size training with your best friend during a sleepover. <3
note: this is a transfer of work from my secondary account. likes and reblogs are always appreciated!
˚౨ৎ ‧₊ without further ado, for your reading pleasure!
🛑 18+ BEYOND THIS POINT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 🛑
as usual, the morning began with breakfast at your favorite café in town– headed to campus afterward for your only lecture of the day. once you'd completed class, you'd returned home to relax until your best friend texted you, granting permission for you to come over.
from there, it remained ordinary as you gathered your sleepover bag and keys, shortly arriving at heeseung's within the hour.
he'd greeted you at the front door, smile on his lips and pearly whites on display. "hey, babydoll." his voice was raspy, as though he'd awoken from a nap.
"you okay? you sound tired, hee." you commented in concern, your voice so incredibly soft and sweet to him.
with a clear of his throat, he brushed it off by muttering, "just a long day." to which led you to step inside, your shoes abandoned in the entryway.
of course, you'd made yourself at home in his small flat– hints of you sprawled across the boy's space considering how often you'd see one another. you made way into his bedroom, plopping your tote bag onto his messy, clothes-ridden floor.
however, the air seemed unusual, tense even, as heeseung entered the room behind you.
pivoting, you face the boy with a skeptical furrow of your brows, eyeing him up and down– to which he awkwardly remains still, nervously shifting from side to side.
"why're you so quiet, seung?" you question with slight worry, yet mostly confusion due to his atypical silent behavior.
"babydoll." he tries to interrupt, taking a step forward as you continue to interrogate him.
"are you sure everything's okay? do you need some alone time?–" you continued to blabber, to which the boy paused right in front of you, hands settling upon your waist.
"y/n." his low voice finally reaches your ears, causing you to glance up and meet his eyes.
"i'm okay, really. it's just.. not something we freely talk about." he eases your concern, only to pique your curiosity further.
"but 's bothering you?" you ask yet another question, causing him to let out a soft laugh– earning a hesitant, half nod from him.
"well... i suppose you could say that, doll." heeseung responds, his lips curved in a soft smile at your attentiveness to him. one of his hands reach to brush a strand of hair from your face.
"then let's talk about it." you blurt, unaware of the topic on the boy's mind at that very moment.
"oh, you want to?" he questions, eyes darkening as he bites the corner of his lip.
"if it helps, mm-hm!" you confirm in a quick hum, nodding your head in gesture.
"alright, let's talk about it." he agrees, his lips curving up into a mischievous smile.
"see that, sweetheart?" heeseung questions ever so softly, his breath fanning against the shell of your ear as he stands behind you. one of his arms encircled around your waist, the other extended from beneath your arm, phone in hand– your instagram story from hours ago on display.
"oh! my instagram story? mm-hm." you recognize the photo of you in a pair of petite sleep shorts and the zip-up hoodie you'd borrowed from him. "is it 'bout your hoodie? can give it back, hee." you try to make reason of why he'd be upset, misunderstanding completely.
" 'course not, baby. want you to keep it, actually." the boy responds with a low murmur, his lips lingering dangerously close to your neck.
"wait, then what's botherin' you?" your obliviousness would typically annoy the boy, but in this matter, he'd hoped for you to piece things together yourself.
he stepped even closer, his figure practically molded to yours.
and that's when you realize the issue at hand.
it leaves you speechless, how erected his cock is, from viewing just a mere photo of you.
"y/n, please. i understand if you don't want to do anything intimate with me, but i need to relieve myself because it's so painful." he admits with a soft grunt spilling past his lips, his hips rutting forward and pressing his erection against the plushness of your ass.
"no!" you protest, shifting in his hold to face him. "i– i mean no, as in don't do it by yourself." you add quickly, hoping to avoid any further misunderstanding.
"i'm sorry?" he mutters in confusion, his brows furrowing in surprise at your response.
"wanna help, hee. can make the pain go away." you reassure, reaching forward to palm him through the layers of his sweatpants and boxers.
earning another grunt from the boy, he breathlessly agrees with a small "fuck," and nod of his head.
and that's what led to you straddled upon heeseung's lap on his gaming chair, naked and bare for his gaze– a sight he'd never forget, forever engraved in his mind.
not even sank onto his mushroom tip, you stare up at him nervously. one of his hands rests beneath the plush of your ass, the other extended toward your right breast, pinching and twisting your nipple between his forefinger and thumb.
earning a whimper from your lips, the boy smiles at the sight of you visibly melting into his touch. "c'mon, baby. start with the tip, i know you can do it." he encourages in a gentle tone, continuing to pleasure you by fondling your chest.
" 'm scared, seung." you admit, exhaling as you decide to begin sinking down onto his cock, the stretch being uncomfortable– but bearable due to the fact it was only the tip.
"doing so good for me, angel." he hisses at the sensitivity, the bulb of his cock throbbing as your warm cavern enveloped him. "gonna have this pussy trained for me in no time." he adds, fighting the urge to buck his hips and rut into you successfully.
"mmph, hee." you babble in discomfort, remaining still for a moment before sinking down even further, half of his cock being swallowed up by your gunmy walls.
heeseung was evidently enjoying the experience, despite the delicious anticipation of filling you to the brim– his head thrown back as he groans, both hands now grasping your hips.
"easy, ma." he regains his bearings, returning his gaze to you as he tries to help you ease onto his thick cock.
gasping for breath, you decide to simply go for it– sinking all the way onto his size, hands grasping at his shoulders, biceps; anything to ground yourself through the pleaseurable pain.
it wasn't as though you'd never been dicked down before, just that you'd never encountered someone of heeseung's inches and girth.
"mm, you're so tight." heeseung comments, humming in satisfaction of finally being fully sucked inside of you. his hips buck, fucking his tip further past your gumminess.
"oh, fuck!" you release a high-pitched whimper, your lips parting in an 'o'.
"i know, ma. told you that you could take all that cock." he coos, fingers gripping the skin of your hips so hard that the flesh protrudes between his fingers.
it wasn't long before you'd begun to bounce against his lap, the squelching of his cock's constant enter and exit of your pussy sounding throughout the room.
between his groans and grunts, the boy continued to praise you, his newest little cockslut– only to elicit needy whines from your lips in return.
it was obvious that by the end of the night, he'd have you fucked to the brink of dumb.
synopsis: in which your night shift ends in the backrooms and the only way out is through him.
genre: backrooms au
pairing: entity!jay x afab reader
warnings: dubcon, very weird descriptions of places, descriptions of flesh, mean dom!jay, gaslighter!jay, mocking, teasing, invisible binding, oral (f. rec), fingering, clit slapping, spitting, manhandling, overstimulating, dirty talk, degrading, dacryphilia, unprotected p in v, jay has a demon dick!!!! lowkey a breeding kink sprinkled in there, creampie, i think that’s it..
wc: 9.1k
a/n: look who’s back…anyways i felt inspired after reading @gyuuberryy ‘s fic ‘don’t look back’ so i decided to write one w a bit of my own twist. this is such a fun concept of writing i feel like i should write more horror esk concepts even though this is very tame. anyways..enjoy. comments,reblogs and notes are always appreciated!
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you took the job because it was supposed to be easy.
midnight shifts, half-asleep mall rats, and a paycheck big enough to cover your rent and leave you just enough for junk food and gas. it was supposed to be quiet. boring, even. which it was—until tonight.
the mall had always been unsettling after hours. too quiet. too still. the overhead fluorescents hummed above you like a dying animal, and the janitor's closet on the second floor always reeked of bleach and something else you couldn't place. but still, nothing that screamed danger. nothing you couldn't handle with a flashlight and a firm tone.
until tonight.
it starts with a sound. soft and distant. like the scuff of a shoe on the squeaky floor tiles of the place.
you pause by the entrance of the food court, your flashlight flicking over darkened storefronts and plastic chairs stacked like bones. the noise comes again, this time sharper—like fingers dragging across metal.
your stomach tightens.
you pull your walkie to your mouth, whispering a check-in to your partner on the other end. but no response comes back, just static.
okay, you tell yourself. don't be dumb. don't go towards it. you're not in a horror movie.
you step back. your sneakers squeak on the floor, loud in the quiet. you turn on your heel and start walking the other way, fast. maybe it's a rat. maybe it's some idiot hiding in the dark and doing one of those '24 hours in the mall challenge' from 2016, or maybe it's nothing.
whatever it is, you just want to get to the office, call it in, and get the hell out.
but the air shifts.
it feels... wrong. heavy. thick, like walking through water. the hum of the lights grows louder, buzzing at a pitch that makes your jaw ache. something flickers in your peripheral. you spin, flashlight jerking toward it—nothing.
your knees suddenly give out.
no warning. no pain. just a dizzy, stomach-dropping sensation like the floor disappeared beneath you—and then black.
▬▬ ▬▬ ▬▬ ▬▬ ▬▬ ▬▬
when you wake, everything is yellow.
the world smells like mold. not fresh mold—old, dead mold. the kind that's lived too long in dark spaces and grown stale with time.
you're lying on cold carpet, face pressed into a nauseating mix of damp fibers and dust. fluorescent lights above you stutter and blink, buzzing in intervals that sound almost... rhythmic.
you sit up fast, heart slamming in your chest as your eyes struggle to adjust to the stale brightness of the unknown place.
this isn't the mall.
you're in a hallway. no windows, no doors. just endless, repeating yellow wallpaper—peeling in places, patterned with some ugly 90s texture—and identical hallways stretching on in every direction.
you push yourself to your feet, head spinning.
"hello?" you call out, voice cracking. nothing. just the hum. you turn a corner. then another. and another.
it feels like walking in circles, except every hallway is just different enough to make you doubt it. a different stain, a different pattern in the ceiling tiles. but always the same walls. the same lights. the same sickly yellow glow that makes your skin look waxy.
where the fuck are you?
you start to run. but the halls go on. and on. and on.
and somewhere behind you, a shadow moves.
you've been walking for what feels like hours.
your legs ache. your throat is dry. and the lights—god, the lights—never stop humming. they flicker sometimes, almost rhythmically, as if reacting to your breathing.
you gave up calling out 20 minutes ago. the silence that followed every "hello?" was worse than nothing. it felt... intentional. like something was listening. choosing not to respond.
you stop to rest against a wall. the wallpaper peels beneath your touch, crumbling like dried-out skin. the carpet squelches faintly underfoot. it's damp now. damper than before. it didn't start out that way—you're sure of it.
you close your eyes. just for a second. then you hear it.
click.
a tiny, impossible sound. like a nail tapping on glass. you spin around fast—nothing behind you. just more yellow, more humming.
you swallow hard and start walking again, faster this time.
the whisper comes a few minutes later.
faint. garbled. like a voice behind a wall.
you stop cold, "...can you hear me?"
you whip around—heart hammering, chest heaving—but the hallway is empty. it sounded so close. like someone just on the other side of the wallpaper, lips pressed to the wall, whispering into your ear.
"don't run."
your breath catches and you take a step back. then another.
a low, almost inaudible rustle drifts from behind you, like fabric dragging along the floor. you don't look back this time, you run.
you sprint down the endless corridors, turns blurring together. every wall looks the same. every shadow stretches too long. the humming of the lights becomes deafening, almost sentient—rising and falling in sync with your panic.
and then—a corner.
you turn it too fast, shoulder slamming the wall.
and there he is.
a boy.
he's standing halfway down the corridor, backlit by the same yellow haze, dressed in black and hunched slightly, like he's been walking for days.
he looks up, his eyes hollow and lifeless.
you freeze.
he looks just as scared as you. "wait—" he says, breathless. "you're real?"
your heart nearly caves in your chest.
finally—finally—someone else.
you don't know that he's been waiting here for you. you don't know that the whispers were his.
you don't know that he's the reason you're here at all.
you only know relief and that's exactly what he wants.
he's standing in the middle of the corridor like he's been waiting there forever. just... still. as if he knew you were coming.
your feet skid to a stop, sneakers dragging against the damp carpet, chest heaving from your sprint.
his head lifts slowly. your eyes meet.
he's beautiful.
not the kind of beautiful you expect in a place like this—no, he looks too clean, too human, too painfully real. black hair falls across his forehead, his eyes wide and startled, like he hadn't seen another living thing in years. his frame is lean, shoulders hunched slightly with tension, a black jacket clinging to him like a second skin. he looks tired.
his mouth parts, stunned. "you're... real?" he asks, voice barely above a whisper.
you don't answer at first. you're still frozen. still trying to figure out if this is a hallucination. if the place has finally cracked your mind open and spilled delusions into your skull. but he takes a hesitant step forward, hands raised as if to show he means no harm.
"i—i heard someone running. i didn't think... i thought i was alone."
you nod, slowly. your throat is too dry to speak.
he sees it in your face, that fractured look of someone at the edge—and his features soften.
"hey, it's okay. i'm not gonna hurt you," he says gently. "you've been here long?"
your voice finally stirs. "i don't know. not long. maybe an hour?"
he winces. "i've been here days," he says, lowering his gaze. "maybe weeks. it's hard to tell."
you want to ask where is this and how do we get out, but the words collapse in your mouth. he seems just as lost. just as scared. and if there's one thing you know about surviving fucked-up situations, it's that panic spreads like a disease. and right now, he's the only person tethering you to something human.
"what's your name?" you ask, voice hoarse.
he smiles faintly, "jay." you give yours in return. and somehow, it feels sacred. the first time you've said it aloud since waking up here. it tastes real again.
you walk together.
not aimlessly—jay says he's mapped a bit of the place out. that some corridors loop, some don't. he tells you he's found areas with flickering lights and strange noises. some that smell like burnt plastic. some that feel colder than others, like they're not finished forming.
"sometimes i hear things," he says, tone hushed. "but i try not to listen."
"you hear them too?" you ask, something cold settling in your bones.
he glances at you. then gives the smallest nod. "they whisper your name, don't they?"
you don't answer, but your stomach twists.
you keep walking. you try not to notice the way the lights don't flicker around him like they do when you're alone. how his shadow always falls in the right direction, no matter where you turn. how his footsteps are too quiet—too synchronized with yours.
you try not to notice how his eyes flick toward your throat when you speak. how he never really seems out of breath. how the carpet never squelches beneath his feet the way it does yours.
he keeps asking you things.
where you're from. how you got here. what you remember.
and every time you answer, he watches you like he's cataloging each word. storing it. savoring it.
but his smile is kind. his laugh—quiet, sweet, disarming. it feels like warmth in this place where nothing is warm.
hours pass. well, you think.
the corridors have started to change. the wallpaper grows darker the deeper you go, browner. as if stained by time or something else entirely. the lights flicker longer now and shadows linger too long at the edges of your vision.
you want to stop walking, but jay touches your arm—gentle, reassuring—and murmurs, "we're close. i think i found something a while ago. it might be a way out."
your chest stutters with cautious hope.
"really?"
he nods. "i didn't go alone. i was scared. but with you—" he breaks off. his voice turns soft, "—i feel safer with you here."
you look at him. he seems so genuine. eyes big, expression honest. he says it like it's a confession. like he needs you. you nod. "okay. lead the way."
and so you do. deeper.until the lights above flicker one final time—and die.
time doesn't pass here the way it should.
you think it's been days. maybe a week. maybe more. but there's no sunrise, no clocks, no hunger cues to guide you. only the flickering lights and the ever-stretching corridors—yellow fading into brown, into olive, into something sickly gray.
but you stop counting the days. because now, you have jay.
he stays close. always at your side, quiet but attentive. sometimes he hums under his breath—soft, tuneless notes that lull your nerves. sometimes he tells stories about his old life: a little apartment with too-thin walls. a sister he hasn't seen in years. a favorite café with mismatched mugs. things that feel so vividly real you almost forget where you are.
you learn his quirks. how he hates the buzzing lights more than the silence. how he taps his fingers on his thigh when he's thinking. how he always walks slightly ahead of you, like he's trying to shield you from whatever comes next.
"you know," you say one 'day' as you walk together through a hallway tinged orange by dying fluorescents, "if you weren't here, i think i'd have lost my mind already."
he glances back at you, lips quirking into a small smile. "same."
"really? you seem like you've got it together."
"nah," he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "i'm just good at pretending."
you don't think about it much. but the next time the lights go dark for a stretch of corridor, it's his hand that finds yours. warm. solid. grounding.
and you don't pull away.
you have moments like that now. tiny, precious ones that feel stolen from reality.
he finds a corridor with walls covered in strange drawings—childlike scribbles in charcoal, some of them humanoid, some not. you sit with your backs to the wall and pretend you're at a museum, whispering critiques and giving the "artists" fake names.
you laugh together. it's a rusty sound at first—too loud in the quiet—but jay laughs too, soft and real.
sometimes, when it gets too quiet, he'll ask about you.
your job. your family. the place you grew up. and he listens—really listens—with his whole body, eyes fixed on you like you're telling him the most important story in the world. when you falter, he encourages you. when your voice cracks, he gently changes the subject.
and when you dream—because you do, sometimes, in flickers and fits—he's always in them. guiding you through endless rooms. catching your hand. pulling you close before you fall.
you wake up and he's right there, watching you with a worried expression like he's been guarding your sleep.
"you talk in your sleep," he says once, voice quiet.
"oh god," you groan, rubbing your eyes. "what'd i say?"
he pauses. smiles faintly.
"you called my name."
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somewhere around day fourteen—or what you think is day fourteen—you stop hoping for a way out.
not because you've given up, but because this, whatever this is, doesn't feel unbearable anymore. you eat the ration bars from your security belt. you sleep curled near jay in corners that feel less watched. you follow his lead because he always seems to know where to go, which halls to avoid, when to turn around.
you stop asking questions.
and you start looking at him longer. watching the way his profile softens when he's not speaking. how his hair falls into his eyes. how he always reaches for you first when the shadows flicker too close.
he never tries anything. never crosses a line. he treats you like something breakable.
so you start crossing those lines yourself. a teasing shoulder bump when he's zoning out. lingering touches when you pass him supplies. once, you fall asleep with your head on his thigh. when you wake, he hasn't moved an inch.
"you could've shifted me off," you mumble groggily.
"i didn't want to."
but still... there are moments. strange ones.
times when the lights flicker a little longer when he walks through. when the hum syncs to his steps. when he looks ahead into the darkness a beat too long, his expression unreadable.
once, you see something in the wall—a smear of something dark, a shadow stretching toward you—but jay turns his head at the exact moment and it disappears.
you blink. it's gone.
and he's already holding his hand out to you again, voice soft. "this way."
you take it. you always take it.
"i think we're close." jay's voice is quiet, but it cuts through the murky silence like a flare.
you blink up at him, wiping the sleep from your eyes. your back aches from the floor. the light above your heads flickers with that same electric buzz, only softer now—like it's struggling. failing.
"close to what?" you murmur, throat dry.
he glances down the corridor ahead. you follow his gaze.
it's different here. the walls have changed again—duller, the yellow wallpaper turning jaundiced and blistered, warped like water damage has soaked through the structure itself. the ceiling is lower, and the light is dimmer. there's a smell now. faint. metallic. wrong.
"a way out," he says softly. "or... something. i don't know. i didn't go in before. i found it a while back, but i was alone."
"but you didn't try?"
he shakes his head. "i was scared." his voice wavers, just a little. you look at him closer, and it feels like the most human you've ever seen him—shoulders slightly hunched, jaw tight, eyes dark with something you can't place.
"but i'm not now. not with you."
you believe him. how could you not? after everything, all the ways he's kept you calm, grounded—safe.
so you follow.
the deeper you go, the more the backrooms begin to rot.
the wallpaper falls away in strips, revealing a glistening material beneath—like old flesh or wet clay. pipes jut from the walls now. some of them drip. the air is heavy, saturated with warmth, as if something is breathing in these corridors right along with you.
"do you hear that?" you ask quietly.
jay tilts his head.
there's a sound behind the walls. a low thrum. a rhythmic thud-thud-thud—like a heartbeat. like footsteps. but not yours.
you grip his sleeve.
"don't worry," he says. "just a little farther."
the hallway finally ends in a door.
not a real one—just an opening. the trim is darker here, almost black. the light inside pulses faintly, like it's trying to lure you in. and the smell intensifies.
when you step through, you find yourself in a new chamber.
this one is wide, circular. walls curved and smooth, lit by a single humming bulb that swings slightly above your head. in the middle of the room are three slides—long, slick, and strangely out of place, like they were built into the floor of a decaying playground.
one is white, polished like marble. one is red, chipped at the edges, with a faint dark smear down the middle. one is black, dull and velvety, almost absorbing the light around it.
you stare at them. "what... is this?"
jay exhales next to you. "i don't know. i found this place once before. didn't stay long enough to figure it out."
"you said it could be a way out."
"i think it is. maybe."
his voice is unreadable.
you turn to him. "do you know where they lead?"
he shakes his head slowly. "no. but we have to choose. eventually."
you look back at the slides. something deep in your stomach curls. they feel alive somehow. waiting. "what if it's a trap?"
he doesn't answer right away. then softly says, "then we face it together."
you look at him. he looks calm, soft-eyed—safe. just pick one, you think. you're not alone. he's here.
your eyes fall to the slides again. white. red. black.
your fingers twitch toward the black one. the surface almost shimmers. you step toward it.
and jay smiles. not sweet. not warm. sharp.
but you don't see it, not yet. the moment your foot touches the black slide, it shudders beneath you.
not visibly. not violently. but it reacts—subtle, like something flexing beneath its skin. the surface isn't hard plastic like you expected. it's soft. pliable. warm. like flesh left out too long.
but jay is right behind you. watching. and something in your chest tells you to keep going.
so you sit and push off.
the slide isn't straight. it twists. drops. swells and curves like a throat swallowing you whole. the walls are too close—pressing in—and the material isn't smooth. it pulses. you think you feel something breathe against your shoulder.
your hands sink slightly as you try to brace yourself. a slick, wet sound echoes all around you. like something digesting.
and then—black.
pure, absolute black. no light. no air. no sound but your own blood roaring in your ears.
you try to scream—but nothing comes out.
you fall forever.
and then—you land.
hard.
but not on carpet, on something alive.
it shifts beneath you, twitching like muscle memory. the ground is slick and damp, lit by dim red bioluminescence leaking from the walls like infected wounds. it smells like copper. salt. something rotten and sweet.
you stumble to your feet. the slide behind you is gone. there's no way back.
you're alone. or—you think you are. until you hear his voice. "you chose it, you know."
your head snaps toward it.
jay.
but he's standing different now—spine straight, head tilted at an unnatural angle, like his neck is made of wire instead of bone. he's watching you. not with the wide, soft gaze you've grown used to.
with something else. something ancient.
"you could've picked any of them," he says quietly, stepping forward. "safety. death. or this."
you shake your head, backing away. "what are you talking about?"
"you picked me." his voice is still warm. still familiar. but too steady. too calm.
"i don't—this isn't—what the fuck is this place?"
"it's mine," he says simply. "or, more accurately... i am of it."
your stomach turns, "i don't understand—" he smiles. soft. so soft. but something ripples beneath his skin, like muscle twitching beneath stretched fabric.
"i made it easy for you," he murmurs. "you wouldn't have followed me if i wasn't kind. if i wasn't... safe."
your knees nearly buckle, "you're lying."
"no. i've never lied to you. not once." he pauses, his mouth curling into a cruel smile, he steps closer. "you just never asked the right questions."
your heart is in your throat now. the walls pulse with it—thump-thump-thump—like they're echoing your fear.
"this isn't real."
"it's more real than where you came from," jay says, almost tender. "you just don't want to admit it."
"what are you?" you whisper.
his smile widens, just slightly. his teeth look too white. too straight. too perfect.
"hungry."
you've never felt cold in the backrooms.
until now.
the air is still warm—wet and clinging to your skin—but your body is shaking. not from temperature. from something else entirely. from the kind of fear that curdles in your gut and hollows you out.
you stagger back, but the ground beneath your feet pulses with every movement. it's not carpet. not even earth. it's... him. it's part of him. you don't know how you know that, but you do.
jay stands in front of you, his expression peaceful. soft. like this isn't a reveal—like it's a gift.
"you were always going to end up here," he says gently. "i just helped you make peace with it."
you shake your head slowly, the world pitching around you. everything's wrong. everything's been wrong.
his kindness.
his patience.
his restraint.
"you lied to me."
"i didn't," he replies, stepping closer. "you just believed what was convenient." and that, that—breaks something open inside of you.
because he's right. you never questioned him. not once. not when he always walked ahead of you, somehow always knowing where to go.
not when his eyes flicked toward the shadows before you noticed them. not even when he told you "i feel safer with you here" and never let you see him afraid.
you wanted to trust him. you needed to.
and now you realize: you told him everything.
your childhood, your family, your fears, the dreams that had started to fray in the real world. every scar. every vulnerability. you poured yourself out like an offering because he listened. because he looked at you like you mattered.
but what did he tell you?
his name. that he had a sister. a favorite café.
things you can't prove.
"i asked you what you did before this," you whisper, more to yourself than to him. "you said it didn't matter anymore." you could feel a stream of tears begin to pour down your face like a facet, and you could only imagine how ridiculous you looked right now.
"because it didn't."
"you said you couldn't remember how you got here."
"i didn't lie."
you can't breathe.
you remember how he always turned questions around on you, how he always made you feel like the one in control. and you fell for it. every time. he played the perfect companion, the kind stranger, the fragile survivor. but he was leading you. grooming your trust. guiding your hand to this exact moment.
and you never saw it.
"you were watching me this whole time."
his smile doesn't change. "since before you fell. you were marked the second you stepped out of your world."
you try to move, to turn, to run—but the room itself responds. the walls bulge inward, not closing, just guiding you back toward him. toward the center.
and now, behind jay, the ground shifts, ripples, and 3 new openings emerge from the flesh-like floor. 3 more slides, each one glistening in the low red light.
white. red. black. again.
but this time, they're not clean. they're not innocent. they're organic—like veins, like tongues, like they've grown from the very bones of this place.
"you made me choose," you whisper. "back then."
"i had to. i needed your consent. your fear. your longing." you flinch at his words, your body twitching with fear.
you can't speak. you can barely stand. the pressure in the room is like a hand on your throat.
"and now," he says, walking toward you slowly, reverently, "i'm giving you a second chance."
he gestures to the slides behind him, and you realized what each colour had represented.
white is safety. "you'll wake up in your home. you'll think that this is all a dream and if you tell anyone they'll never believe you."
red is death. "not metaphorical. not symbolic. ending. i promise it will be quick."
black is to stay. "with me. not just in this place. part of it. bound. fed. worshiped."
your knees nearly give out, "why me?"
he stops. looks at you—really looks at you.
"because you were lonely," he says softly. "you needed to be wanted. i felt it when you fell in. all that ache, all that heat under your skin, how badly you needed something to hold you down, claim you, keep you."
he tilts his head.
"i just answered the call."
you want to scream. you want to cry. but deep down, under the panic, under the betrayal, under the spiraling horror— a part of you remembers how safe he made you feel.
how warm his presence was. how seen you felt when he looked at you. and that part of you doesn't want to leave.
jay sees it. he senses it.
he steps closer, close enough for you to see the subtle shifts in his face—something beneath his skin twitching, pulsing, like he's holding back something monstrous, waiting to be chosen.
"i'll let you go," he whispers, "if that's what you really want."
you stare at the slides.
white. red. black.
you step toward one of them and your fingers brush the edge. behind you, jay's breath hitches. soft. hopeful. and you fall forward—into white.
you don't land. you arrive.
the slide disappears beneath you the moment your body releases into it—no momentum, no tumbling drop. just a blink—
and then you're standing, a chamber breathes around you.
walls of dark, glistening flesh, lit by a muted, red glow that pulses like a living heartbeat. the air hums. it tastes of copper and warmth. there's no door. no light above. no escape.
you turn in a slow, stunned circle.
what is this? where is he?
and then you hear, "you picked well." jay's voice cuts through the silence like silk dragging across bone.
you whip around. he's behind you. standing too close.
his features are familiar, still mostly human, but they don't move like they used to. his limbs are too fluid. his eyes glow faintly with something primal and ancient. there's no tension in his body now, no hesitation—just the unshakable stillness of a predator who has already won.
your chest tightens. "what is this place?"
he just smiles. not cruel. not mocking.
patient. "home."
you stare at him, heart thudding, breath shallow. your mind races back to the moment at the slide. how he'd waited. watched. how he hadn't even followed. he knew.
"you said... you said it was a choice."
"and you made one."
"but the others—" your voice cracks. "white was supposed to be safety. red was death."
his expression softens ever so slightly in faux sympathy, "white was suppose to be home, this is home."
you step back like you've been struck, "you said—"
"i never said which realm," he interrupts gently. "i just said they were options."
you feel like you're floating—adrift in something sick and sweet. "then why—why offer a choice at all?"
he tilts his head, gaze tracking you as you retreat another step. the chamber pulses around you, sensing your panic. the walls twitch with each heartbeat. the floor beneath your feet trembles in response to your breath.
you are not in control.
"because you would've run, if i hadn't made you feel like you had a say." his voice is calm. steady.
"but this way—" he closes the distance in a single, quiet step, "it's consensual, isn't it?"
your breath stutters. "you tricked me—"
"no. i led you. there's a difference." he begins to circle you.
his movements are slow. languid. like he's savoring your fear. not in a sadistic way—but with intimacy. like he's memorizing every tremble, every shake of your breath.
"i listened to you. i protected you. i let you tell me every little thing that made you feel small. and when it was time to choose... you chose me."
the walls around you shiver. something stirs beneath the floor.
"there was no way out," you whisper, horrified.
"no," he confirms. "but if i told you that from the beginning, you wouldn't have been ready for me."
"you used me."
"i wanted you," he corrects softly. "and i waited until you wanted me back."
he's right in front of you now. you want to scream, but it catches in your throat. not because of fear.
because somewhere, deep down—beneath the betrayal, beneath the horror—you still remember how it felt to be seen by him. how safe you felt when he looked at you like you were worth something.
"you never had a choice, little one," he murmurs. "but the moment you believed you did... you became mine."
you don't run. you can't. your feet won't move, no matter how loud your brain is screaming. because it's not just fear anymore.
it's confusion. it's betrayal. it's the bitter taste of something that once felt safe now turning rotten in your mouth.
your breath stutters, but jay doesn't move. he stands there, gaze quiet, composed—like he's waiting for you to catch up. like he wants you to take your time. let it all sink in.
and oh god, it does.
your thoughts tumble out in a frantic stream:
he never told you anything real.
he always let you talk first.
he dodged questions with smiles.
he cried once, remember? but his face never wrinkled. not really.
he held your hand when you were scared, but his skin never sweated. never shook.
he never ate. he never slept.
but you trusted him anyway.
you think of the stories he told—the apartment, the sister, the café with mismatched mugs—and how vivid they seemed at the time.
but now?
you realize... none of them had names.
not the street. not the city. not the sister.
just placeholders. just enough to fill the silence you gave him.
you built him. you projected goodness onto something hollow.
and he let you.
"i thought you cared about me." your voice is hoarse, barely audible.
"i do," he says.
and it sounds real. but so did everything else.
you stagger back a step, and the floor beneath your feet shivers—soft, slick, and alive. you suck in a breath, but the air's too thick, syrupy and humid. every inhale feels like it costs you something.
your body is overheating.
you can feel your heartbeat pounding behind your eyes. your chest. between your legs. like the atmosphere itself is stroking your nerves raw.
"why does this feel like—"
you cut yourself off, horrified. because it feels good.
your body—traitorous, stupid—responds to his closeness. the heat, the scent of him. the pull. and it disgusts you. it shames you. but it also excites something low in your gut that you can't name.
jay sees it.
of course he does.
"the backrooms don't just shift for anyone," he murmurs. "they respond to what you feel. what you want."
you shake your head, frantic. "no. i didn't want this. i didn't want—"
"didn't you?" he steps forward again, slow, like he's taming a wounded animal.
"you followed me. you chose me. you let me in."
your vision sways. your breath shortens. because some part of you is still clinging to the way he held you when you were scared. the way his voice calmed you. the way he never pushed. never demanded. he earned your trust and now he's twisting it in his palm like a flower's stem, bending until it snaps.
you sink to your knees, shaking.
you can feel the pulse of the room rising—thump-thump-thump—the walls breathing with you, the floor cradling your body like it wants to hold you. trap you. keep you soft and helpless and pliant.
jay crouches in front of you.
he doesn't touch you, not yet.
his voice is quiet.
"you can cry. you can scream. but it doesn't change anything." he continues, "you're here now. with me. where you were always meant to be."
your vision swims. the fear twists into something else. something hotter.
is it adrenaline? arousal? both?
you hate it but you want more. and that, more than anything else, breaks you.
because now you're not scared of jay. you're scared of yourself.
"you can't move, can you?" jay's voice is soft. breathy. too close.
your limbs won't respond—your legs twitch, your fingers curl—but you're locked in place. not harshly. not like restraints.
like... longing.
your thighs ache to part. your back arches just slightly. it's like your body is moving on instinct, reacting to him.
he circles you slowly, steps silent. the walls pulse with a deep, ambient thrum, responding to the rise in your breathing.
"look at you," he murmurs from behind, his palm dragging down your spine. "so sensitive. like your skin's just waiting to be touched."
you shudder under his hand, eyes fluttering closed. you want to deny it, you should—but all you can do is feel.
heat. tension. craving. your own body is betraying you.
"you think it's just arousal, don't you?"
he appears in front of you, crouching. his eyes glow faintly in the red light. there's something predatory in the way he watches you—like he's savoring a secret.
"you think it's just the moment. adrenaline. fear. me." his hand slides beneath your chin, tilts your face up."it's not."
he smiles, slow and indulgent. "you're already bound to me. you just haven't noticed yet."
your breath catches. "what are you—"
but you stop because you feel it now—subtle threads under your skin, like the gravity in the room is focused only on you. like something invisible is holding your wrists, your thighs, your breath, and telling it to stay. to obey.
"you gave yourself to me the second you believed in me," he whispers. "and now you'll let me take everything."
his hand falls between your thighs, and your knees instinctively try to close—but they don't.
you're wide open. exposed. desperate.
he chuckles low in his throat. "see? not even trying anymore. your body knows who it belongs to."
you gasp as his fingers stroke the inside of your thigh, slow and torturously light. he leans in, pressing his mouth to the shell of your ear. "you don't want gentle, do you?"
his other hand rises. fingers grab your jaw—firm, but not painful. he turns your face toward him. you meet his eyes and almost flinch. they're burning.
"you want filthy. you want my hands on you. my spit in your mouth and my cum slipping out of your cunt. you want to be ruined by something that doesn't even pretend to be human anymore."
you whimper, but your hips rock forward—helpless, aching. he grins. a flash of something sharp behind his lips. "good girl."
then—he spits. right between your parted lips.
you choke on your breath, stunned, but you don't pull away. you can't. you swallow without thinking, dazed, flushed from the heat crawling across your skin.
"that's it," he breathes. "so easy now. so eager."
he pushes you down, palms skimming your thighs as you sink. you don't even realize you've dropped to your knees until you're looking up at him, blinking like you've come undone.
the floor pulses under your skin. the room is watching.
his hand cups your cheek, thumb rubbing gently at your lip like he's wiping you clean—but you both know better.
"no one's ever gonna take you like this. no one else could," he murmurs. "you were made for this. for me."
his voice is velvet-wrapped venom. his gaze pins you in place.
and you? you're no longer sure if you want to be free.
"that's what i thought."
jay sinks down in front of you—slow, deliberate, like he's descending into worship or war.
his knees press into the pulsing floor, and your breath catches the moment he pushes you back and his hands come to your thighs.
his eyes trail down. he grabs the waistband of your pants—your last piece of dignity—and pauses just long enough for the panic to rise in your chest. then he rips them down, dragging your underwear with them in one fluid movement.
you gasp, hands moving to cover yourself—but something catches your wrists and forces them above your head, pressing them down into the floor.
the bindings return. invisible, pulsing. your arms are trapped, held still by nothing you can see — just the air around his body thick with power, with control, with him.
"still crying a few minutes ago, weren't you?" he murmurs, voice low and cruel. "sobbing about trust and betrayal and 'how could you do this to me, jay?'" he mimics your tone mockingly, a smirk curling his lips.
you turn your face, burning. but he grabs your chin—firm, sharp fingers tilting your gaze back to his. "look at me when i speak to you."
your breath stutters. his hands slide downward again, slow over your thighs. your skin trembles beneath him. and when his fingers graze over the soaked heat between your legs, he lets out a laugh—soft, delighted, mean.
"oh, sweetheart..."
he drags two fingers slowly through your slick, watching the way your hips twitch, how your mouth parts on instinct.
"you really let me break you that fast?"
you squirm, but the invisible binding tightens. you're not moving unless he allows it.
"so wet for the monster who lied to you," he taunts. "the same one who's been watching you, stalking you, baiting you since the moment you stepped through that yellow door."
he presses his fingers against your clit—just enough pressure to make you gasp. "and now look at you."
he leans in, lips brushing your cheek. "so needy. so fucking ruined."
his free hand grabs your thigh and pulls you open wider, like he's claiming more of you by the second.
"don't you dare pretend you don't like this. your body's too honest, baby."
he spits again but this time low, messy, right where you're dripping—then drags his fingers through it and back onto you, rubbing it in like something unholy.
"i should keep you like this," he whispers. "on your knees. dripping. trembling. always ready for me." your head drops back, a moan torn from your throat.
"that's it. make those pretty little sounds—show me what a filthy thing you are now."
his mouth replaces his hand and he devours you. he licks a thick strip up your slit, enjoying the way your body twitches when he slides over your clit. he ditches the teasing fairly quickly, his mouth engulfing you whole.
not gently. not lovingly. like he's starving and this is what he's been made to eat. his tongue drags through every inch of you, relentless and skilled, and you can feel his power tightening around your limbs every time you twitch or buck.
he's not holding you down with strength. he's holding you down with want. and you can't fight it anymore, you don't want to.
not when he pulls back and looks up at you, mouth wet, eyes gleaming with something dark and endless.
"say it." his voice drops to a growl. "say you want to be mine."
your lips tremble, your chest heaves, and all that comes out is a whimper—but you say it.
"yours."
his smile is all teeth, "that's my girl."
"pathetic little thing." jay's voice is rich with amusement, a low rumble in the thick air around you. he's still crouched between your thighs, fingers gliding lazily through your slick heat, but he's not focused on pleasuring you—he's toying.
his hand moves away. you gasp at the loss, but he's already reaching higher.
"take this off."
you blink through the haze. "what?"
he leans in. slow. terrifying. "your shirt. now."
your hands move on instinct. you tug it up, trembling, but your fingers fumble and you wince when the fabric catches. your eyes blur with tears —again.
jay clicks his tongue. "unbelievable." in one swift motion, his hands are on you, tearing.
the sound of fabric splitting echoes like a scream in the pulsing room. your shirt is gone in seconds, shredded, forgotten and he tosses it aside like trash.
"you can't even get undressed without crying?" he laughs, shoving you back. the warm, fleshy floor catches you like a cradle. "were you always this helpless, or do i just bring it out of you?"
his hand grabs your jaw. not hard enough to bruise, not yet—but enough to make your breath hitch. "you were so loud before. crying about betrayal. sniffling like i ruined your life."
he leans in. voice dropping. "but your nipples are hard and you're soaking through your panties. want to explain that to me, baby?"
you turn your face, humiliated. his grip tightens, "look. at. me." you do. your eyes sting. your bottom lip trembles.
you hate this. you love it.
he sees everything, "you don't get to hide anymore."
he leans back on his heels, gaze raking over your fully bare body, and groans like he's witnessing something sacred.
"fuck, look at you. trembling. dripping. thighs shaking like you've been begging for this since the day you met me."
your face burns. you try to squeeze your legs together but he slaps your inner thigh.
not hard. not painful. but enough to sting. to make your hips jolt. "spread. them."
you don't obey fast enough so he grabs your knees and forces them open. "you want to cry again? go ahead. i like the way your tears look when they roll into your mouth."
you let out a shaky sob, frustration and arousal eating you alive, but jay just leans down and licks the tear from your cheek.
"sweet little mess," he breathes, lips ghosting over your skin. "this is what you were made for."
he kisses down your neck. your chest. your stomach. his teeth graze your hip. "tell me you want it, or i'll stop."
you squirm, humiliated, raw, "say it."
"i want it," you whisper.
"say it louder."
"i want it."
he smiles. mean. sharp. perfect, "good girl."
he presses his mouth to your heat again. tongue flat, slow, claiming. and this time, he doesn't stop.
his tongue slides over your center like he's savoring something expensive.
slow. wide. cruel.
you arch under him with a soft cry, body already raw from how he's stripped you down—not just physically, but completely. nerves exposed. pride shattered. his now, and he knows it.
"mm," jay hums against your core, licking you again, slow and deliberate. "sweet little thing... this what betrayal tastes like?"
your thighs twitch. his grip tightens.
"thought you hated me just ten minutes ago. now you're dripping like you've been waiting your whole life for my mouth."
you whimper, hips twitching. he doesn't give you relief—just more pressure. too slow. too controlled. like he's building something just to tear it down.
he pulls back, licking his lips lazily. his mouth shines.
"you gonna cry again? huh?" he coos, one brow raised. "go ahead. doesn't matter how much you sob, this pretty cunt's still begging me to fill it."
you suck in a breath as his fingers trail back down between your legs. he teases you—barely brushing the slick entrance with two fingers, then pulling away.
again. and again. you try to buck your hips and move your arms but the invisible bindings at your wrists tighten.
"stay still." his voice darkens. and something shifts in the air.
he presses two fingers in—finally—but only halfway.
your eyes roll. your mouth drops open. he watches you, eyes filled with amusement. "that desperate for my fingers? not even halfway in and you're already squeezing like a whore."
you squirm as he thrusts them deeper. the stretch is overwhelming, so sudden after being teased for so long, and the heel of his palm grinds down against your clit until your vision blurs.
"feel that?" his voice is right in your ear now—he's everywhere. "that's your body saying yes while your head's still pretending to be innocent."
he curls his fingers just right and you scream. he grins like the devil himself, "there she is."
he thrusts faster now, fingers soaked, the sound of it filthy in the quiet, pulsing space. his palm slaps against your clit with every movement. your thighs shake, your hips jerk—but you're bound. you're stuck.
"how long do you think you'll last?" he murmurs. "how many times can i make you cum before you forget your own name?"
you whimper, breath hitched. "please, i—"
"please what?" he slows. again.
you almost sob.
"please let you come? please wreck you harder? or maybe you just want to be filled up like a good little toy."
you moan, body straining. the bindings tighten again—not painfully, but enough to remind you that you're completely his.
he leans in, fingers still deep, curling slow and mean. "you're not cumming until you admit it."
"admit what—?"
"that you like this."
you freeze. breathless.
"say it. say you like being used. being ruined. say you like being owned by the thing you were so scared of."
you hesitate, so he stops. fingers still buried inside you, but unmoving. "say it or i leave you here. trembling. soaked. aching."
you bite your lip. humiliated. soaked. desperate.
and then you whisper it, "i like it."
"louder."
"i like it. i like being ruined. i like you owning me."
he smiles and fucks you hard with his fingers, curling, thrusting, his mouth back on your clit as he laps at you hungrily. you feel a foreign feeling build in the pit of your stomach, your body shaking and twitching.
you cum fast. loud. messy. completely undone.
your body shakes, back arching, a loud sob tearing from your throat as he holds you through it—mouth locked to you, tongue relentless, fingers fucking you through the aftershocks.
and when you collapse?
he doesn't stop, "you thought i was done with you?"
jay's voice is thick with amusement, warm breath fanning over your thighs as he stays buried between them. his fingers don't stop moving.
his tongue is still licking.
slow, lazy, like he has all the time in the world.
you're shaking. sobbing. your thighs twitch with every tiny stroke to your clit, and your hips jerk helplessly, but you still can't move—not from exhaustion, not from the invisible force that keeps your wrists pinned above your head.
"don't squirm," he mutters, licking a long stripe up your oversensitive center. "you said you liked being ruined. so now i'm going to ruin you right."
you choke on a moan, head thrashing. "too much—"
he laughs. "too bad." his fingers thrust again—deeper, meaner now. the squelch of your slick, the wet drag of his knuckles, the obscene slap of his palm against your clit—it's all loud now.
deliberate. degrading.
"listen to that," he sneers. "your messy little cunt can't even pretend to fight me anymore. soaked. swollen. like it's been waiting for me for years."
you gasp, mouth open in a silent cry as he flattens his tongue against your clit again. but this time, it's not slow. this time, he devours you—relentless, tongue dragging tight circles, fingers curling into that sweet, ruined spot that makes your whole body seize.
"you're gonna cum again," he growls into you, voice muffled by your skin. "don't care if you're ready. don't care if you're crying. this little pussy's mine now, and i decide when it stops."
your eyes roll back and you can feel it—already.
your legs shake violently, breath catching in short, high-pitched gasps as you spiral toward a second orgasm.
"that's it. you're close, aren't you? fuck, look at you—" he slaps your clit once, sharp, just to watch you jolt. "—so easy now. so fucking weak for me."
you scream. you thrash. but the bindings hold.
"you gonna cum again, baby? gonna soak my hand like the needy little hole you are?"
your voice breaks, "jay—please—"
"beg louder."
"please! please, i—" but you never finish.
he fucks his fingers into you deeper, thumb circling your clit, tongue flicking across your folds like he's marking you with every stroke—and it tips you over.
the second orgasm crashes into you like a wave of white heat. you scream—louder than before—head thrown back, thighs quivering, tears spilling freely as your body locks and trembles and pulses around his fingers.
and he doesn't stop.
"yeah, that's it," he growls, watching the way you break apart beneath him. "fucking cum for me again. make a mess. cry about it. you're not leaving this floor until i'm finished with you."
your chest heaves, mind blank.
and jay? he's just getting started.
"look at you." jay's voice is velvet-coated filth.
he's above you now, body heavy between your thighs, pinning you to the pulsing floor with casual, crushing dominance.
you can barely see him through the blur of tears. your face is hot, your lips swollen, your chest heaving with hiccuped sobs—and he's smiling.
like your wreckage is beautiful. like your suffering is his reward.
"crying again, angel? didn't i just give you everything you begged for?" he reaches down—grips himself—and your breath stops.
because that's not human. not anymore.
you hadn't realized when he got the chance to slip off his pants, your eyes immediately zeroing in on what was clenches between his fist. his cock is thick. veiny. too hot. it pulses in his hand like it has a heartbeat of its own, the head flushed darker than the rest, slightly curved, the base wrapped in ridged muscle you've never seen on anyone living. it looks designed—to stretch, to bruise, to own.
"don't pretend you're scared now," he huffs, pressing the thick head against your drenched entrance. "you begged for this. cried for it. soaked my face like a desperate little whore."
you whimper as he shoves in the tip.
your back arches, and your mouth drops down to an 'o'. "too big?" he mocks. "what a shame." his hand clamps down on your waist. you try to pull away—reflex—but he drags you back down like your body belongs to him. because it does.
"this body's not made for anything soft anymore."
he pushes deeper and you scream. it burns. it stretches. he's so much, and you're still raw, still trembling from the last orgasm—and he knows it.
"so fucking tight," he grits. "like you were waiting to be split open."
he bottoms out and you sob again and jay laughs.
"god, you're crying again. what's wrong, baby? can't handle being filled by what you gave yourself to?"
your fingers claw the air, wrists still bound, whole body shaking as his hips start to move—slow at first, dragging every ridge and vein against your walls, pulling back just enough to make you feel the loss before slamming back in deep.
"this pussy's mine now." he pounds into you again, "say it."
"j—jay—"
he grabs your jaw, forces your mouth open. "say it or i'll cum inside you and keep you full forever."
your cunt clamps down on him tight and he groans, low and dangerous. "fuck. you liked that, didn't you? thought you'd hate being ruined, but now you want it dripping down your thighs."
you choke. your legs are shaking again. your mind is gone. he keeps fucking into you—hard, brutal, possessive.
"i'm gonna fuck you until you forget you ever had a name. until the only word you know is mine."
your body convulses and another orgasm hits you, this one violent and sharp—rips through you as his cock drags over every spot that shouldn't exist inside you. it's like he's built to keep you on edge, to ruin you forever.
and when you cum, crying, broken, babbling nonsense—he smiles. "good girl."
he thrusts once. twice. and then he growls, a sound inhuman and deep, filling you with a rush of heat so intense your whole body trembles.
his cock pulses. deep inside. and he doesn't pull out. you could feel yourself dripping with him, your cunt clenching pathetically around him like a vice.
"mine now," he whispers into your ear, licking the sweat from your temple. "forever."
you don't respond. you can't.
and jay? jay just watches you twitch beneath him, a satisfied god feasting on the wreckage he made.
▬▬ ▬▬ ▬▬ ▬▬ ▬▬ ▬▬
no one finds her.
not the mall staff.
not the cops who skim the grainy security footage with bored eyes.
not her family, who post missing posters no one reads.
there's no door. no sound. no sign.
just static on the feed where her flashlight dropped. just silence in the halls where she vanished.
but sometimes—if you're unlucky— if you wander too far past where the lights flicker and the walls feel too soft you might hear something.
a voice.
a moan.
a laugh, low and sweet and wrong.
or maybe you'll see something flash by—dark hair, bare feet, eyes too wide, a figure slumped against yellow walls with something crawling beneath her skin.
you won't know if she's alive.
you won't know if she's alone.
and the worst part? she might smile at you.
soft. slow. dreamy.
like she's waiting. like you're next.
because the backrooms keep what they're given.
and they remember every sob, every scream, every second of surrender.
and somewhere inside them, in the red-lit heart of something ancient and hungry—he's still fucking her open. still whispering in her ear.
still asking the same question, over and over again: "do you want to be mine?"
and maybe—just maybe..
she said yes.
— enjoy this fic? check out my other ones right here!
Pairing: foreign exchange student!riki x fem!reader Warnings/Genre: Eventual Smut, angst (no character death), emotion incomprehensible, emotional invalidation, reader can be a spoiled brat at times, confusing feelings from both parties, parental abuse, elopement, drug/alcohol use, emotionally unstable/explosive reader.. Bunnys’ A/n: This entire fic is entirely inspired by super rich kids - frank ocean (only some is proofread sorry for mistakes) cover made by me hehe
Your eyebrows furrowed by the obnoxious ringing of your bedside alarm clock flooding into your ears, not so politely signaling that it was, unfortunately, 6:30 am. You slowly rose from your cold and cushioned king-sized bed, rubbing your eyes in the process of sitting up. Your hair tussled messily around your head, sticking up in multiple places and going multiple directions.
You quietly hissed as your warm feet accommodated the cold wooden floors, your drowsy eyes searched for the source of the ringing before finally pressing the off switch on the clock. You muttered something quietly under your breath, the cursing insult a stark contrast to your appearance and bright, princess-like surroundings. Poor alarm clock, just doing its job.
You were never a morning person.
The soft sound of a knock hits your bedroom door before it opens immediately after, the warm familiarity of your butler’s aroma entering the room. What was the point of knocking in the first place, you think to yourself, before she speaks up. “Maddam, I believe it’s time for the sun to kiss the stars” She said cheerfully as she pulled the cart of breakfast foods into the room.
“The sun can’t ‘kiss the stars’.. and I told you to just call me y/n, Maddam makes me feel so… aged.” You grumbled out your words with a roll of your tired eyes, voice crackling from sleep. Just the thought of the future has always sent a certain unexplainable shiver down your spine, you had to appreciate your youth while it was present.
Putting your feet through the high-quality bedside slippers, you made your way towards the small circular table across the large room, sitting in the chair closest to the window. “Well..” She took a moment to follow you to the table with the cart before continuing. “Your father insists I keep it professio-“ You quickly retorted, cutting her off. “Well, my father is never here, is he? What does it matter if he wants you to do something?” You huff out, looking up just to be met with her calm demeanor
“I see you more than him anyway, I’ve known you my entire life, you’re taking care of me.” She simply nods at your words, placing the tray of food in front of you. Letting out a small sigh after she finishes placing everything, she heads to your closet to pick out your uniform. “Leave me.” Your words come short with frustration before you take a sip of hot tea. Instead of replying or insisting, she halts her movements before bowing and walking out with a gentle close of the door.
Leaning back into the chair, finally engulfed in the peaceful silence of the morning. Checking the expensive watch on your wrist, the time reads 6:40 already. You quickly lean forward and begin eating the carefully cooked breakfast the private chef prepared for you before changing out of your long baby pink night gown and into your academy uniform.
As you straighten your tie, now that you really think about it, your new school was the only thing you ever got to choose for yourself.. if even that. Your stubborn, arrogant father insisted on hiring a private teacher for the 11th year in a row, but it was getting all too lonely. After a full summer of begging, he finally gave in to you attending a public academy with the condition that you didn’t ask for a job.. He wanted life to be handed down to his ”fragile” daughter.
Being somewhat independent was hard at first, but after a full year of attending school, you’ve gained your own kind of flow.
You’ve become your grade representative two years in a row and class president, all while still maintaining a somewhat high popularity rate, a dream come true. Now entering the second semester of your twelfth and final year of high school, you wanted nothing but for it to go as smoothly as before.
Walking through the halls, waving to your last semester’s previous classmates, a sudden pair of large hands are placed on your shoulders from behind. “Hi y/n!” A cheerful, familiar voice reaches your ears.
Jungwon, your best friend since coming to this school, and the person who’s just always stuck to your side since you met. “Wonie!” You smile brightly for the first time this morning. “I'm guessing you had a good winter break?” You nod in response, walking side by side to your homeroom. “Yup! It was amazing, but I’m so glad to be back, what about you, Wonie?” You asked before looking over to the cat-like boy.
He sighs before responding, “It was definitely hectic but a much-needed break, omaigosh.” He giggles out, his eyes squinting when he smiles towards you.
“Are you coming to the winter dance next month?” Placing an arm around your shoulder casually as the two of you stop at his locker.
“Oh.. I don’t know Wonie, you know how my dad is..” You bring out your phone as you answer.
Jungwon leans in as he examines your screen. “Ugh, I wish we could hang out outside of school!!” He pouts and whines out his words, “Maybe he just needs some good convincing!!”He smiles mischievously while shaking your shoulders, making you wobble.
“Jungwon, stop doing that to poor Y/n, you know she's fragile.” Both you and Jungwon look up at the deep voice intruding on your conversation. “JAY!” The two of you say in unison as he shuts his locker and walks closer. He leans against the locker, uniform neat, much more put together than Jungwons’; his hair grown below his eyes with a new middle part.
“You look weird” Jungwon says suddenly, while yanking the lollipop out of the older’s mouth, “Hey! I worked hard on my appearance over break, clearly unlike you” Jay retorts playfully while reaching back for the loli.
“Did the president hire you over a two-week-long break or what?” He laughs loudly while putting the candy into his own mouth. “Gross, Jungwon! I had that in my mouth!” He scolds the red-haired boy while making fake gagging motions.
“Ugh, you guys bicker like a married couple, it’s sickening.” You roll your eyes dramatically.
“You’re just jelly you haven’t found love, Y/n” Jungwon jokes while holding onto Jay, playfully puckering his lips out in kissing motions towards him.
“Ew get off!”
It’s not that you haven’t “found” love, you just... aren’t searching. Who needs romance when you have the two most precious best friends anyway! Right…? But you do get lonely sometimes, when you’re all alone at night trying to chase that oh-so-sweet night orgasm; however, it's no use when you’ve grown tired of your own fingers.
That gets pretty boring and lonely.
Or maybe when you’re listening to a specific love song and deep down wish you could relate to such romantic, intimate lyrics. It just takes time, you suppose.
“Y/n, are you coming or are you going to stare into your locker all morning?” Jay’s deep voice suddenly brings you out of your head. “Yeah, I'm coming, sorry.” You quickly reply, shaking your head in a poor attempt to shake those thoughts away as you catch up with them, walking to your homeroom as the two bicker about the stupidest things, like whether a tomato is a fruit or a vegetable.
“Hello, everyone! Welcome back! Ah, y/n” The teacher greets you individually at the door, pulling you aside. “Meet after class, okay?” You quickly nod at the older mans’ words before adjusting your beige tote and walking into the classroom.
Class went by fast as it usually did before break; with Jungwons’ constant talking and Jay’s constant complaining, you were somehow able to write down all of the notes and finish your work.
“Ugh finally, that was so much work” Jungwon whined dramatically, throwing his bookbag over his shoulder recklessly. The older boy punches his shoulder lightly, “You didn’t even do it..” Jay jokes. “I'm complaining on y/ns behalf, actually.” Jungwon smiles his signature cat-like grin, a small string of giggles following after.
They begin to walk before Jungwon stops and looks at you, just standing there in the middle of the class instead of walking with them.
“Y/n? You coming?”
“Mr Dain wants to speak to me about something. I’ll catch up with you guys!” you flash the red-haired boy a bright smile before sending them off on their merry way. After a couple of moments, the teacher closes the door and walks to his desk, motioning for you to sit, which you do almost immediately.
“Y/n,” He does some clicking and typing on his laptop, almost as if he’s trying to find something. What seems like a short moment passes before he lets out a small “Aha”, seemingly finding what he needed. “The faculty advisers and I have had some discussions on a recent.. dilemma.” He looks up from his laptop before thinking on his words, you feel a spark of nervousness pang through you.
He quickly noticed the sudden unease in your demeanor, he chuckled warm heartedly before continuing. “Not much of a dilemma.. bad choice of wording. More like a situation? We have a certain responsibility for you, Y/n.. I want you to know that we chose you for the role of student body president because of your leadership qualities.” He stands up from the chair but doesn’t go anywhere.
A quick “mhm” leaves your throat before you speak, “Yes, Mr. Dain, I understand” you answered. “There's someone I would like you to meet.” He finally strides over to the door to the classroom and peeks his head out; evidently speaking to someone, they were most likely waiting outside while he spoke to you.
Mr Dain steps back and opens the door for the person, it’s almost like you could feel them before you saw them. A tall boy walks in, jewelry clanking as he steps through the tall wooden door.
Holy.. shit..
This guy seriously was something else, his bleached blond and black hair swaying just below his slender eyes; their gaze almost piercing directly through you. He was definitely into fashion, mid-sized rings decorating most of his long fingers, a black hoodie going a little ways past his waist with a white shirt peeking from underneath it, which had a large decorative belt hanging around his hips, holding up his dark baggy jeans.
Your type from absolute head to toe, but you quickly shake your head, trying to rid the thought from your head.. The last thing you need right now is a distraction like this, right?
It’s not like your father would appreciate you having a crush on someone, so protective in every single way. He always has to know their status, financial situation, and anything to make sure his daughter doesn’t have to lay down a finger.
“Hi.” His voice was deep, really, really deep as he spoke.. Japanese? “Good morning.” There was an obvious hint of confusion in your voice as you answered back to him in Japanese, bowing your head just slightly as you greeted him. You turned your head away from him immediately after speaking, looking at Mr. Dain, who had yet to explain.
The teacher closed the door with a soft click before walking to stand beside the handsome boy. Mr. Dain smiled widely at the interaction between the two of you.
“Y/n, this is Riki. I want you to accompany him throughout the rest of the year.”
Comm ent if you want to be tagged for when the chapters are posted :3
just grinding on my pillow for the first time thinking dang.. why didn’t someone recommend this to me sooner.. anyways im so horny rn im about to write a NASTY about heeseung or jay, going to take long though because dang
umm so ive been writing for years but i just recently(like seven months ago) found out about enhablr so im deciding what wip to post as my first official work.
[BTW. THIS ISNT AN OFFICIAL “get to know the author” OR LIKE INTRO. ill be making soon sighh]
ANYWAYS, so I have a couple im working on but theres two that im currently thinking of, one is a oneshot smut/fluff and other is a full PACKAGE like (angst/fluff/eventual smut) all the things.
THE ONLY THING IS they’re both not finished but i’ve been prioritizing the book because a book is naturally going to take longer than a oneshot :3
The full book is of riki and the oneshot is jungwon (im a really nasty freak, just a warning)
First Post !!
seatmate!jungwon
exchangestudent!riki
Voting ended onJan 20, 2025
maybe if im feeling nice ill post both but just in case im too crowded with schoolwork.
THE MESSY MIDDLE PART.. THE EYEBROW TWITCH… THE DEEP VOICE.. THE LIPS.. THE RINGS.. THE EYES.. THE THE THE THE HANDS.. THE EARINGS.. THE TANKTOP.. THE NECKLACE… THE CHUCKLE WHEN HE THINKS HE GOT IT.. THE SMIRK..
here’s the thing, if you consume porn i don’t want to hear your opinion on social issues at all. you don’t like racism but you watch videos from a site that has slavery themed porn? you want to smash the patriarchy but you’ll watch 18 year old girls get pissed on by grown men. you hate homophobes but you’ll watch porn on a site that has videos titled “lesbian forced to take cock”? you want to battle transphobia but you’re okay with pornhub recruiting trans identified teens to be abused on film for a couple hundred bucks? if you can boycott a spice brand for prejudice why can’t you do it for porn? if your activism ends the moment you want to nut, shut your fucking mouth and stop pretending like you give a fuck about any of this.
THE LIGHTHOUSE ˒˒ 박성훈
▸ 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲!
the land has always been something you desperately wished you could walk on. be like the humans and walk among them. one dark and stormy night, you are granted your wish—but, it comes with a deadly price. and you only have one month to decide if you’re willing to pay it.
pairing ⸝⸝ park sunghoon 𝑥 fem!reader
𓄵 𝓯eat. ꔛ 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦!
genre ⋆ 📓 ⸝⸝ strangers to lovers, angst, kinda love at first sight, smut, fluff, mermaid!reader, lighthouse keeper!sunghoon, magic, mermaid au, fantasy, early 1900s au inaccuracies, slow burn, slice of life, forced proximity, classic story of a mermaid washing up on shore with a twist, lighthouse / lighthouse keeper inaccuracies, the little mermaid references, slight smidge of horror elements
warnings ⸝⸝ death / themes of death, descriptions of harsh sea waves and storms, mentions and depictions of loneliness, reader has a lot of mermaid attributes, reader is new to the human world, unprotected sex, soft dom!sunghoon, sub / dom dynamics, a lot of skinship (they’re touch deprived) , really soft and desperate sex, a lot of yearning (sunghoon is always popping a boner), petnames (baby, darling, sweetheart, my pearl), clit stimulation, fingering, brief nipple play, creampie, riding, some aftercare (on & off page)
kipo’s note ⸝⸝ listen to the playlist (in song order) here!! hehe i spent wayy too much time on it.. (╯ ◡ ╰ “) i also spent too much time going into a deep dive on lighthouses and lighthouse keepers and how they worked back in the day,,, i hope that you enjoy!! ^^
you knew that traveling to the surface was forbidden, but you couldn’t help the way that it called to you deep in the depths of the sea. like a moth to a flame, you swam and swam until you could feel the bright sun on your wet skin. until you could hear the sound of the waves crashing onto the nearby rocks and the distant chatter of the village nearby.
it filled you with such profound longing and want that the only thing that helped ease the feeling was to watch the way the landwalkers went about their days. you watched as giggling landwalking guppies darted from place to place and under their parent’s legs. as people shouted to passersby about the wares they were selling and people walking arm in arm.
you made sure you were always carefully hidden behind some rocks so that you weren’t seen and that your dark blue shifting tail blended nicely with the water. still, you watched and watched for what seemed like hours.
you wondered what it felt like to be able to walk on land, to feel the rocky surface beneath your feet. does it hurt? how does one stay upright? is land walking to the landwalkers the same as swimming to the merfolk? these were all questions you desperately wanted to know the answers to.
swimming away from the village’s edge, you waded through the fog along the ocean’s surface. you were just about to dive when a flickering light in the distance caught your eye. cautiously, you decided to see what it was.
landwalker’s buildings were already tall as it is, but this one was completely different. it pierced through the sky with a beacon of light shining from the top—almost like a second sun being held up. your eyes widened as you drew closer, ducking behind some rocks as you surveyed the area.
it was on a small island of it’s own, not too far away from the island the village sat on, but far enough that you’d have to swim for a short while to get from island to island. the building was white and a deep red color like coral on the seafloor. you stared in amazement at it, climbing up onto the rock to get a better look. a tiny building was attached to the bottom of it that looked like it had seen much better days. it was beautiful, you’ve never seen anything quite like it.
movement in your peripheral had your head snapping in it’s direction. the door of the small attached building swung open and a man carrying a box stepped out of it, the hat he was wearing nearly slipping off of his head and exposing his dark locks of hair. you ducked down on the rock a little, making sure that you were covered by the fog. he sat the box down near the entrance of the building just as a loud sound had you jumping out of your skin.
it was a deep, almost guttural sound. you tried to look for the source of it and saw that it came from the large horn near the small building. birds flew from their perches to a quieter place and you slid off of the rock, drawing nearer to the shore.
your father’s warnings rang deep inside you, yet you tried to push his words down. don’t go near the surface, my child. the dangerous landwalkers will lure you in and capture you so that you are never seen ever again. they cannot be trusted.
you hid behind some more rocks and watched him work. he kept disappearing into the small building and if you looked up, you could almost see him between the flickering light. if he wasn’t inside, he was out tidying the area around where he worked—stacking and fixing various things. occasionally, he would also look out to the sea, seemingly monitoring the waves and the fog before scribbling something down in what you think was called a book. when he did, you sunk down into the water until only your eyes and the top of your head was above the surface.
what interested you the most was how the man seemed to be alone. why was he so far away from the rest of the landwalkers? what made him different? what was this building that he was working on? you had so many question and so little answers—and nobody to ask.
you couldn’t tell any of your people that you watched the landwalkers daily. you would get into an enormous amount of trouble and would never be able to see the surface again.
instead, day after day, you watched the man work—no longer so curious about the ventures of the village landwalkers. the more you watched him work, muscles straining against his rolled up sleeves and brows furrowed, the more you noticed him. he was very handsome in a landwalker sort of way, the most beautiful out of them you’ve seen so far. you wondered if he had a life outside of this building on the shore. perhaps it was back in the small house a short walk away from the shore? was his whole life on this tiny island?
dusk fell and a cold breeze swept up the shore from the waters. you had spent the whole day again watching the man work at what you now knew was called a lighthouse. he was wiping the attached building of the lighthouse down after the recent rainstorm, frustratingly muttering under his breath.
you noticed that he didn’t talk much, only a simple, quiet word here or there. at first, you thought he couldn’t speak, until now.
“shit!” he hissed as he threw the rag down onto the ground. the paint was starting to peel off the siding on the building from the harsh winds and water. “now i’m gonna have to paint this whole building again.”
you giggled at his reaction. it must’ve been too loudly because his head snapped in your direction and you quickly sunk down behind the rocks. this was dangerous, you knew that, and it already seemed that you were getting too comfortable being out in the open. yet, you giggled to yourself more, more quietly this time as bubbles rippled up from the water. the man’s brows furrowed but he shook his head a little. “come on, sunghoon. don’t start losing it now,” he murmured.
sunghoon, that was his name. you surfaced from the water a little and tried his time on your tongue. “sung… hoon…” you spoke softly before smiling. “pretty.”
the light at the top of the lighthouse burned brightly against the darkening sky, signaling that it was past the time for you to start swimming home. you turned and began swimming away from the shore, starting your journey.
something sat heavily in the pit of your stomach and it was beginning to weigh you down. it was that same longing and want, this time more pronounced and refusing to be swallowed and digested. you stopped swimming and stared up at the bright, almost full moon in the sky.
you would give anything to walk on land. to experience life as a landwalker does and be on land. you didn’t want to be confined to the sea anymore. you didn’t want to have a tail anymore—you wanted legs. you wanted to be a landwalker, not a mermaid.
your heart racing, an old story your father once told you interrupted your thoughts. the story of a young mermaid trading her tail for landwalker’s legs.
it was supposed to be a cautionary tale, one to ward off small merfolk from intermingling with the landwalkers, but to you, it was an answer—one you were desperate for. the tale talked about how the mermaid visited a sea witch deep down in a cave at the bottom of the ocean and begged her to change her tail for legs.
the witch and her struck a deal: the mermaid was to sacrifice four of her pearlescent scales in exchange for a week on land. during said week, the mermaid had to find the witch various hard-to-find ingredients and bring it back to her by the end of it. if she didn’t fulfill her end of the deal after the week was up, her tail would come back and she would never be able to have legs again. only, swimming would not be as easy or as painless as it once was.
you made your decision. you were going to find the sea witch and strike a deal with her the same way the mermaid from the story did. what were a few scales and ingredients when you could finally walk on land? finally have your dreams become reality?
your next course of action was to find out information on where the sea witch’s cave could be.
instead of spending your time up at the surface, you instead kept beneath the water. you asked your family and friends about the sea witch in subtle ways, blaming your questions on your curiosity and love of storytelling. as days passed, the information you were provided pushed you more and into the direction you were hoping for.
it felt weird to be amongst your people again. you were so busy vicariously living with the landwalkers that you forgot how different interactions between merfolk and landwalkers were. instead of walking or running, it was swimming and tail flapping. instead of giggles, it was a flurry of bubbles and muted speech. merfolk swam with their tails on top of one another and their arms intertwined ahead of them. strangely, you felt out of place. everything felt so different.
you were going over the information you had gathered when suddenly the pieces all fit together. you twirled in excitement—the sea witch… you finally found her! you were going to have your legs that you’ve spent so many nights dreaming of, and you didn’t want to waste anymore time.
as the light rays dwindled, you quickly swam towards the location, sneaking past any merfolk who were still out of their seaweed beds. deep, deep down you swam and swam until you could barely see ahead of you. that was, until a sparkling light appeared and guided you—the witch’s torch.
you darted towards it, a nervous excitement bubbling inside of you as you drew closer and closer. when you reached it, a large opening with more sparkling lights beckoned you inside and you hesitantly followed them one by one.
the swim felt like it lasted an eternity as you twisted and turned until you saw a bright light that almost blinded you at first look. you swam towards it and surfaced from the water inside a decent sized pool in what looked like a rocky hut.
“ah, a visitor!” a voice said and you swung around. a woman—a landwalking woman—was in front of a shelf of various trinkets and knick knacks next to a table full of jars of spices and herbs. she turned towards where you surfaced with a bright smile that was all teeth. her dark, shadowed eyes widened and a chill ran down your spine all the way to the fin at the end of your tail. you could feel the waves of power radiating off of her, and it made your heart beat faster in a twisted excitement.
she was real. the sea witch was real.
she walked towards the pool you were in, “don’t get too many of those anymore, especially from the depths. must be all the stories your people tell of me.” she chortled and you tilted your head in confusion before realizing that she had made a joke a second too late. the witch waved her hand in the air at your silence, “i kid, i kid.”
pushing away from the shelf, the witch stepped towards you. her tattered dress was ripped at multiple points at the bottom so pieces of fabric hung from it and dragged along the stone floor. when she moved, the shells, sticks, and pearls she wore clacked together in an alluring harmony. she bend down at the edge of the pool so she was eye level with you, her messy hair fanning around her face.
“what deal did you come to make, little mermaid?” she asked, her eyes still wide and her smile still teeth.
you waded backwards in the water slightly, but stood your ground. you swallowed, willing your voice to speak. “legs…” you trailed softly before licking your lips. “legs,” you said, louder and with more confidence, “i want to trade my tail for legs. i wish to walk on land like the landwalkers do—be a landwalker like them.”
“legs,” the witch drawled out before tsking as she turned away from you in a large, dramatic motion. you grabbed a stone bowl from the top of one of her shelves, picking here and there at spices and herbs and trinkets as she moved about the room. “always the legs,” she continued.
your brows furrowed in worry. what if she didn’t accept your deal? what if she was too tired of giving foolish mermaids like you legs to walk on land with and denied your wish?
the witch suddenly turned towards you and you jumped. “as i’m sure you know, everything always comes with a price—and this is mine. i will accept your offer, but in return you must do something for me as well.” you nodded furiously, “y-yes! anything… i’ll do anything!”
the sea witch smiled and it lacked all of the playfulness she previously possessed. instead, it was almost cold, like she had flipped a fin.
“in one month's time, you must cut out the beating heart of the human you love the most and bring it to me.” the sea witch slowly leaned away from you, her eyes remaining on yours. “if you don’t fulfill your end of the deal, you will never walk on land again and you will never swim in the recesses of the ocean again. you will instead turn to seafoam and be nevermore. that is your price, guppy.”
your eyes widened in shock and in fear. “b-but, in the story—” the witch swiftly interrupted you, her voice harsh and grating. she leaned down to you again so fast you had no time to process it. her teeth were sharp and her eyes were almost fully black. “in the ‘story’ i gave that halfwitted thing a single day and every step she took felt like standing upon urchins. be grateful, girl, that i’m showing you kindness. now what will it be, do you accept?”
the clacking of her jewelry sounded like a ticking clock, urging you to answer quickly. “i accept!” you blurted. your eyes widened further and you gasped softly at your words. the sea witch’s sharp smile grew.
she got in the water and hooked her arms under yours and dragged you towards the stone floor. “yes, child!” she shouted and smoke rose all around you out of the bubbling cauldron you suddenly noticed. “a deal has been made—one you will die for to break! there’s no turning back!” she cackled loudly and she dragged you fully onto the ground, dropping you unceremoniously. you sat up, fear flooding your entire body as you froze.
“there’s no turning back! there’s no turning back! a debt to be made. the beating heart shall be mine! for all you have sacrificed will be paid!” the witch shouted, cackling to herself.
the room grew dark and the light from the cauldron shimmered off of your deep blue scales. before you could do much else, the sea witch plucked four scales from your tail and you hissed out in pain. she dropped them into the cauldron along with the trinkets and such from the stone bowl, mixing them all together with a hearty laugh.
you began to rise in the air and your tail started to tingle before becoming so unbearably hot. you screamed out in pain as the smoke clouded around you and left you blind to the rest of the room. from beyond the fog, you heard the witch shout, “tonight, a vicious storm will brew and take you on your journey. a month from now the same storm will return, with or without you.”
you could barely hear her between your screams. one by one, you scales started to be ripped from your tail, withering away into nothingness. the more you writhed in pain, the more it felt like your tail was being split in two. you rose further into the air and noticed the suspended pool of water hanging above you. suddenly, you couldn’t breathe. like your gills closed and you were suffocating. the top of your head rose into the water and despite not being able to breathe, you screamed—a shrill sound full of unabashed fear.
from the distance, you heard the sea witch’s voice again. this time she wasn’t shouting, but instead chuckling in satisfaction. she continued, “either way, i’ll have a heart.”
as you entered the water, you were whooshed into a current that helped you breathe again. you gasped in large breaths as you spun around disoriented. the pain you felt was unimaginable. your tail felt as if someone was ripping a leg off a starfish. except, instead of growing back the same, it was growing something else entirely. more scales ripped and withered off of you as your tail split.
you tried to think about the future. of how worth it this will all be in the end when you have your legs and you finally walk on land, living amongst the landwalkers—or humans, as the sea witch interestingly called them.
but, a thought prodded at your mind. the bargain you made and the heart you will have to bring back.
you didn’t think you could do it—didn’t have the stomach to cut out someone’s heart, but you had no choice. not anymore. who’s heart will you cut out? will you find some unsuspecting victim and force yourself to love them until you actually do so in the end you can rip out the heart they entrusted you with? it was all so wrong. what have you done?
the current led you to the sea’s surface and in the heart of the most vicious storm you’ve ever seen. waves crashed against you and pummeled you back down under the surface, yet each time you emerged again and again. harsh, stinging winds slashed across your skin, yet you remained unharmed. you hoarsely yelled out in pain and looked down at the beautiful blue tail you once had, the scales a myriad of shades. you didn’t even recognize it anymore.
instead what you saw was a half tail, half pair of legs monstrosity. it perfectly described where you were at this current moment—between the waves of the watery life you had been stripped from and being pushed forward to the dry land of the life you will come to know. in the distance you heard that loud, guttural sound that you recognized so well. you turned and saw the beacon of fluttering light emitting from the lighthouse standing tall against the storm.
a dark thought polluted your mind. you weren’t expecting to be spitted out so close to the village. you mind traveled to the man working the lighthouse as you fought against the waves to breath the cold air.
what if it was his heart you cut out?
no… you didn’t want to think that. didn’t want that thought to be true. anybody, but him. anybody, but sunghoon. you’ve grown too fond of him during the times you watched over him—you can’t let his already seemingly lonely life be cut short by getting his heart ripped out. you wouldn’t allow yourself to do that to him.
the tormenting waves seemed to have other plans for you. they took you directly towards the shore where the lighthouse sat and you started to cry.
shock jolted you as you felt wetness roll down your cheeks just as the rain started to pound down harder from a light splash. you touched your cheeks with trembling hands. the change was all too much too fast. you weren’t expecting it to be this way.
when you heard the story of the mermaid trading her tail for legs it was nothing like this. she emerged from the water like a graceful swan, a beautiful sunset behind her that reflected off the calm sea. you couldn’t help but feel betrayed by the lies you were told.
you didn’t feel graceful, you felt forsaken. this was a journey of death, not rebirth.
the closer you got to the shore, the more regret started to pierce deep inside you. it didn’t help that the storm clouds seemed to break so the moon’s light could illuminate just you. it all felt so unfair. all you wanted to do was walk on land, why must you endure all this? why must you love someone deeply only to rip their heart out? and why were the sea witch's waves so hellbent on that person being sunghoon?
why did excitement still flood in the pit of your belly at the thought of the life you may live after?
a second, smaller light flickered on at the tiny island you were heading for and you knew it was him. you watched as the small light raced towards the shore almost as fast as you were being pushed to it. the two of you were heading towards a deadly collision and you weren’t ready for it.
the waves spitted you out and you washed up onto the sand of the shore. you felt weak and dizzy and something else entirely that you couldn’t name or figure out. your stomach rumbled like the thunder and your head ached. you raised your head as much as you could and looked down at your new body. you were in so much pain that you almost felt numb.
sniffling a little, a laugh spilled from your lips and the corners of your mouth pulled upwards. you have legs. they may be painful at the moment and slightly numb, but you finally had them. you felt every grain against them and dug your legs further into the sand. the last remaining scales of your former life surrounded you like glittering rocks, you were surprised that they hadn’t withered away like the rest of them.
you looked up at the full moon, glowing and huge. like a pearl in the sky. you smiled wider before inhaling deeply. you felt brand new. maybe the whole journey was worth it in the end. a wave of sleep hit you and you struggled to keep your eyes open.
just as your eyes began to close fully, a warm light draped over your body. sunghoon’s worried face appeared in your view just as another wave of sleep overcame you, the ghost of a smile on your face.
as you drifted off into the unknown, the claws of regret sank into you again and it’s almost as if you could hear the sea witch’s cruel cackling. you can’t rip out his heart—you just couldn’t. you wouldn’t. because, unbeknownst to you, that fondness you held so deeply for him was already blossoming into something more. something dangerous.
it was a strange day, indeed, for sunghoon.
more of a strange week, actually. firstly, his assistant keeper was nowhere to be found, so he was on the small island all alone; manning all of the work and upkeep of the lighthouse on his own. as he went on about his days, sunghoon constantly felt watched—he even swore he heard a woman’s laugh before, saw the apparition of her along the shore, but it was just him. maybe it was finally his time to go mad like so many other lighthouse keepers.
now a vicious storm appearing out of nowhere? after his logs over the week have only shown mostly clear skies? it was all very strange to him.
even stranger was what sunghoon saw in the storm as he scanned the waters for any possible boats or ships. a woman, illuminated by a beam of moonlight, fighting against the waves and crashing upon his shore like some holy being. the storm came so fast he barely had time to get from his bed and light his oil lantern to go out and try to assist her.
that where sunghoon was now, holding his lantern over your bare body as he worriedly looked over you for any injuries. you seemed completely unharmed, surrounded by shifting blue scales with pearls in your hair. with skin slightly tinted blue and with slightly webbed hands, you almost looked… human—but, more ethereal and beautiful than anything sunghoon has ever seen in his entire life. you were prettier than any gibson girl appearance the women of the village sported.
realizing that he was gazing upon a woman’s naked body who he didn’t know, sunghoon quickly sat his lantern down in the sand as he shrugged off his wet coat. he laid it over you before hooking his arms under your legs and back to carry you back to safety in his quarters, making sure to grab his lantern to light his way back through the dark.
the closer to his small house and the further away from the shore he got, the storm simmered until he was at his front door and the skies and sea were almost calm again. very strange, sunghoon thought.
sunghoon laid you down gently onto his couch and replaced his coat for one of the thick blankets strewn across the back of the couch. you were completely out cold, and probably would be for a while. sunghoon shook his head in wonder as he stared down at you, “what happened to you? how did you manage to get caught naked and alone in the middle of a storm?”
his questions would have to wait for later. sunghoon rushed back outside and to the lighthouse. he climbed up the narrow winding staircase to the top and ensured that the lamp was still burning. after adjusting the flame, everything was back in order and the mechanism was spinning efficiently.
sunghoon sighed as he exited the lighthouse. thankfully, he wouldn’t have to do much cleaning up after the sudden storm. after logging everything that happened, sunghoon ventured back down to the shore—back to where he found you.
in the sand, he picked up some of the blue scales that had surrounded you and inspected them. they were somewhat transparent and flexible. when sunghoon held them out to the light, they shifted from a dark blue to a deep teal color. it only left him with more questions, but he pocketed them to ask you about later.
a yawn was ripped from his mouth and he looked out at the moon. if his calculations were correct, he still had a couple of hours until he had to be up again for the day. heading back to the small house near the lighthouse, sunghoon decided to go back to sleep until either it was time for him to wake up, or you awoke. there was no point in staying awake if everything outside was calm with no signs of changing and you were asleep.
sunghoon quickly ran upstairs and changed his wet clothes for dryer ones, making sure to bring some down for you to wear when you woke up. he sunk down into the armchair next to the couch, running his hands through his damp hair. sunghoon glanced over to you, sleeping peacefully, with a sigh. he just hoped that nothing else strange occurred.
he got as comfortable as he could on the armchair and yawned once again. sunghoon closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep.
you awoke inside a simply adorned house that you didn’t recognize. memories rushed towards the forefront of your mind and you recalled the events you just went through. the sea witch, your new—and no longer painful—legs, the storm, and sunghoon’s worried face. you slowly sat up and the fabric across your body fell off your shoulders and pooled in your lap.
you turned towards the window and looked out at the sky. it was still rather dark outside, but you could tell that dawn was not too far away. the light atop of the lighthouse still flickered like a beacon in the sky and there were no remnants of whatever storm brought you here.
the surface, you were finally on it. a smile grew on your face and you turned your attention back to your new legs, flipping the fabric off of you completely to gaze upon them.
they were absolutely glorious. you giggled a little as you wiggled the tiny fingers at the end of them. they felt unusual, but you supposed you would eventually get used to the feeling. another thought popped into your head, loud and demanding—sunghoon.
he was asleep in the chair next to you, uncomfortably twisted in it. you tilted your head as you looked at him. finally, you were getting a close look at a landwalker—human. you stood on your new legs, shaking and using the couch to stabilize you. you took a shaky step towards him, and another until you were basically hovering over him.
how fascinating, humans. they didn’t have any gills like merfolk did, nor the tinged blue-ish skin or tail. and from what you could tell their ears didn’t have any attached fins on them either. you touched your own ears, astonished at how different they felt before holding out your hand. they were still slightly webbed, but not nearly like how they used to be. it was all so… new.
your skin was soft and warm rather than cold, wet and almost slick. sunghoon’s hair also didn't sprawl out around him like yours did when you were underwater. instead, it covered his eyes in a dark curtain, resting softly across his cheeks.
you reached out your hand and brushed the hair away to see sunghoon’s closed eyes, fingers brushing lightly across his skin. he really was beautiful. your brows knitted together as the tips of your fingers dragged down his cheek. did all humans look like him?
sunghoon’s eyes cracked open and you gasped softly, pulling your hand away. you took a wobbly step back. you nearly fell onto the table if it hasn’t been for sunghoon quickly reaching out and grabbing your waist to steady you. you both looked at each other with wide eyes and complete silence. sunghoon’s eyes trailed your body and his eyes widened even more before he swiftly removed his hands from your waist and turned his head to the side, blinking rapidly.
“t-there’s clothes on the table for you…” sunghoon trailed, the sleep still in his voice, as he shifted in the armchair uncomfortably. his eyes darted to yours before looking away again.
you gave him a confused look before turning to the table. you held up the “clothes” he was talking about in front of you. you turned back to him with a puzzled look. “what… is it?” you asked. you stuck your arm through one of its various holes, confused on what you were to do with it.
sunghoon shifted in the seat more as he dragged his gaze to you. he took the pillow from behind him and pressed it down in his lap. “uh… i-it’s a shirt,” he stuttered, just as confused as you were. “you wear it?”
you lowered the shirt so you could look at him and sunghoon looked at the ceiling. “wear it?” you repeated. what is a “shirt” and how does one “wear it?” there was so much about a human’s life that you didn’t know. it made you excited to learn about it all.
sunghoon cleared his throat and his brows drew together more, like he didn’t understand how you didn’t understand what he was talking about. suddenly, realization dawned on his features and he slowly looked down from this ceiling so his eyes connected with yours. “yeah,” he said slowly. you could see the geysers blowing in his head the more he stared at you, his eyes shifting along your face and your hair. he glanced towards the door before settling on you. “have you seen them before?” he suddenly asked.
“from afar on humans, but never this close! we don’t wear things such as this. it’s soft,” you smiled. you then gasped, covering your mouth with your hand. you didn’t think it was wise to let him know that you were—or, use to be—a mermaid. your father’s words came to mind again, but, as you stared at sunghoon with wide eyes, it didn't look like he was dangerous.
after all, he did rescue you from the storm and gave you shelter. he is even giving you some of his clothes, even if you didn’t know what to do with them or how to wear them. maybe you could trust him with your secret before going off to the village in hopes of finding someone to fall in love with. treat it as a farewell before you leave him to ensure your fondness didn’t grow any further.
a smile grew on sunghoon’s face and as you stared at each other for another moment, you could see him put all the pieces together himself. “well, us humans usually wear a shirt like this,” he started, motioning down to the shirt that covered his chest. “and trousers to cover our lower half. you’re, uh, naked… right now.”
your brows raised in shock. naked? how were you naked? most of your pearls were still in your hair and your hair was relatively decent still. you were completely dressed.
sunghoon slowly stood. he grabbed the shirt from you and held it in between your bodies. “i’m not sure how things work where you’re from… but here, let me help you…” he lifted the shirt and pulled it over your head through one of the holes. “your arms go through the other two,” sunghoon murmured awkwardly.
he then very awkwardly guided you through putting on the pants and you quickly learned about balance and its importance.
“thank you,” you said sincerely as you smiled at him. sunghoon sheepishly smiled back, rubbing the back of his neck. “but, i must ask one last thing of you. the village… it’s dire that i get there as fast as possible.”
sunghoon’s smile dropped. you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. then, you started to make your way to the door, a lot less wobbly. the kiss was risky, but you couldn’t help yourself. sunghoon raced towards you, his arms out. “wait!” he called out.
he held you in place by your shoulders to stop you from leaving. “you can’t leave—not without someone guiding you, and i can’t leave the lighthouse. the villagers… they’ll eat someone like you alive down there. it’s not safe.” you could tell sunghoon wasn’t joking by the serious expression on his face.
what were you supposed to do now? “someone like me?” you asked.
sunghoon gave you an almost incredulous look. “you arrived in a storm completely unharmed and alive. when i found you, you were surrounded by scales and you wear pearls in your hair…” he trailed off, like the answer was blatantly obvious. “the villagers don’t believe, but spending time here, alone, at this lighthouse will at the very least have you questioning.”
your shoulders sagged. at least you didn’t have to hide what you were from him anymore—not that you were doing a good job of it anyway. “b-but… i have to go to the village!” you exclaimed.
“listen, why don’t you stay here for a while? i’ll teach you everything you need to know—human to mermaid—and after, you can go on your merry way and live amongst us on your own!” sunghoon said.
“you don’t understand.” you slumped down on the couch, crossing your arms. “it’s not safe for you, and i don’t have that amount of time.”
sunghoon quirked a brow, chuckling, “what? are you gonna eat me or something?” you stayed silent. he sat down on the couch next to you, “if you were, you would’ve done so on the shore or while i was sleeping. i promise that no angry mob is gonna come rowing here after you, you don’t have to worry. and, i’ll teach you everything as fast as i can.”
you sighed defeatedly. you just hoped it was fast enough for you to still find someone else. it couldn’t be sunghoon who’s heart you ripped out. “okay,” you murmured.
sunghoon smiled brightly at you. “now, what’s your name, darling?”
“y/n,” you replied a bit hesitantly.
“i’m sunghoon, here at your service!” you laughed and he joined in with you. you almost wanted to tell him that you already knew, that you’ve been watching him, but you decided against it. it was best that he didn’t know. “sunghoon,” you repeated instead, like you haven’t already said it before, “that’s very pretty.”
“a compliment, coming from a pretty woman like you? well, it must be! thank you kindly, miss!” he smiled playfully and you rolled your eyes. there was a pang in your chest and you inhaled. thankfully it was covered by a loud growl, causing you to furrow your brows.
sunghoon’s face lit up in realization again. “ah, right. you must be hungry. let me fetch you something to eat.”
it’s been about a week since you landed in sunghoon’s care and time was ticking down. you tried to not think about how much time you had left, instead distracting yourself by helping sunghoon around the lighthouse, but it was near impossible. it didn’t help that since the two of you were alone on the island together, you both had no choice but to be in each other’s presence and get to know each other.
sunghoon has taught you a lot about humans throughout the week you’ve been here and in turn you’ve told him how things worked under the water. the two of you were fascinated by each other’s stories and that, in turn, only brought you both even closer.
the day was clear, and as sunghoon said, “it holds no signs of changing.”
“what do you say we row over to the village? get you some proper clothes?” sunghoon asked. “i don’t think you want to keep wearing mine.” he paused from the siding he was painting to look over to you.
you halted the paintbrush you were holding, looking at his clothes that you wore. “what? do they not look good on me?” you giggled.
sunghoon’s eyes widen, almost like something clicked in his head, but a smile grew on his face. he said nothing for a moment, just stared at you with a fond smile. “of course they look good on you,” he said.
you looked away, hiding your face, as you continued painting. “that would be nice,” you murmured, before speaking a little louder. “it would be nice to see the village.”
not soon after that, the two of you were climbing up the dock at the village together. you stuck near sunghoon’s side, suddenly overwhelmed by the busy life of the villagers. as you walked through the streets, you couldn’t help but notice all their stares—their dirty looks. you pressed more into sunghoon’s side and he wrapped his arm around your waist.
“a man’s clothes!” you heard the village women mutter amongst each other. “and her hair…”
you now knew what sunghoon meant when he said the village would eat you alive. you didn’t look how the village women looked and the difference was drastic and obvious. none of them had pearls intricately wrapped in strands of their hair or even had their hair down. their hair were all put up, with flowing skirts and modest blouses or fitted dresses that showed the curve of their hips that didn’t match the buttoned up untucked men’s shirt and trousers you wore. it was all so overwhelming.
by the time you reached the tailors, you were practically clutching on to sunghoon’s side. when you entered, every eye was on you. a human woman—who you assumed was the owner of the shop—rushed towards you. “oh, you poor thing! let me fix you up!” she cooed as she pulled you away from sunghoon’s grasp.
you looked back at him with wide, fearful eyes. “it’ll be okay,” he assured you, grabbing your hand. “i’ll be right here waiting for you.”
“this will take a while,” the woman said to him, before glancing at you. at least she didn’t look at you like the other women did. it was more with pity than disgust. sunghoon nodded, sitting in one of the chairs with his hat clutched in his hands. you didn’t turn away from him until your view of him was physically cut off by the curtain the woman pulled in front of your face and he didn’t look away either.
suddenly the woman had you out of sunghoon’s clothes and in long skirts and blouses. she had you try on various ones to gauge your size, along with pulling out what she called “measuring tape.”
once you had on an outfit she was satisfied with, her fingers hovered over the pearls in your hair, a look you couldn’t name in her eyes. “pearls are very beautiful? don’t you agree?” she asked as she turned to look at your face. you nodded, still a bit uncomfortable, as you cast your gaze downwards to the floor.
“all that hardship for beauty… for a simple creation,” the woman said. “i was just like you once, little guppy.” your gaze snapped to her’s in shock as her eyes stared at the pearls in your hair.
the woman continued, and you saw the sadness in her eyes. she nodded her head towards the curtain, “that man out there, he found you, didn’t he?” you opened your mouth to speak but no words came out, so you just nodded. “he’s already swimming down deep for you,” she said, “it gets easier, dear. when it’s all over, you come and find me, you hear?”
she said nothing else—nothing else about the fact that you both crawled from the deep in hopes of a new life. nothing about how she must’ve had to sacrifice the one she loved most in order to be standing in front of you right now. nothing about if it was worth it or not—and you so desperately needed to know.
instead, she carefully untangled the pearls from your windswept hair and worked them into the up-do she styled your hair in. as she worked around you, you noticed the single pearl in her own hair, and your heart broke in two.
once she was done and the curtain was opened, you all but ran back to where sunghoon still sat, just like he said he would. as you approached, he stood to his feet as he looked over you. his eyes were wide and his mouth hung open. the woman giggled, winking at you, before leaving the two of you alone.
“better?” you asked him, glancing down at the new clothes you wore.
“you were already beautiful,” sunghoon replied, a bit breathlessly and flustered. you smiled and felt as your face started to heat up rapidly. his ears were a flaming red that made you giggle a little. sunghoon cleared his throat, blinking, “b-but, it’s a good hu—good look on you. do you like it?”
you thought it over for a moment, “there’s aspects of it that i like, some that i don’t.” you liked how intricate it all looked, a lot of it reminded you of the seabed. along with the colors—it looked like you wore a coral reef with the most beautiful and shimmering fish in it. you weren’t sure about how fitted it all felt, but you were sure you would get used to it. it bummed you that your hair was put up, but at least you kept your pearls.
“well, you can wear it all however you like when we’re back on the island, sweetheart,” sunghoon said, stepping towards you. he took your hands in his and smiled at you.
when the two of you walked back through the village, you still felt eyes on you—more snickers and muttering. on the row home you were quiet, which sunghoon noticed. in the house, he saw how the sadness twisted your features.
he guided you towards the couch, his brows drawn together in worry. “i’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice low. sunghoon watched helplessly as the tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him before sliding down your cheeks. you touched your fingers to the wetness, confused.
“what is this?” you asked him.
“tears,” sunghoon replied. “they happen when you feel an emotion deeply—like sadness.” more tears fell down your cheeks and you buried your face in his chest. sunghoon wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly.
after a few moments, you peeked your head out and looked at him with big, teary eyes. your eyes darted down to sunghoon’s lips before looking back up at him, your brows furrowing like you were in inner turmoil. slowly, you leaned up and softly pressed your lips to his.
sunghoon’s own eyebrows raised in slight shock. you pulled away the slightest bit, your lips still hovering near his like you were frozen. for a second, sunghoon was too. he then chases your lips, kissing you again.
you lips work in perfect harmony together as you kiss each other. like the past week has been building to this moment and it’s finally here and it’s perfect. his lips felt perfect on yours and yours on his. it was as if they were made for each other and you never wanted to spend another moment not kissing sunghoon.
his hand cupped your face and you sat up more, nearly in his lap, as the kiss deepened. you kissed each other like you were desperate. like the waves were crashing around you—and they were. the time you had left flashed in your mind and you ran your hands through his hair to distract yourself from the thoughts and instead focus on him—only sunghoon.
sunghoon’s hat fell to the side somewhere on the couch and his other hand slid down to rest on your waist. you kissed each other like you didn’t need air, or water, or anything. just each other. but you did, and you pulled away as heavy breathing overtook the both of you. not far, but enough so that you lips had the slightest distance from his. your thoughts came back full force, the sand in your hourglass falling and the sea witch’s cackling.
you shook your head a little, eyes still closed. “w-we can’t… this is too dangerous,” you trailed off in a soft and low voice, your eyes fluttering open and meeting his.
“i don’t understand…” sunghoon whispered. “what is so dangerous about it?” the pads of his thumbs wiped away freshly fallen tears. you shook your head again, pulling away from him fully and sitting properly back on the couch. sunghoon sat up straighter and placed his dropped hat in his lap.
you wrapped your arms around yourself. you looked out the window towards the calm sea and felt yourself break. it was already too late. you’ve reached the point of no return, and if you continued down the path you were going with sunghoon, there would be no going back.
“this won’t end well,” you told him, “and we’ll both end up getting hurt.”
you felt his fingers gently turn your face towards his. his face was inches from yours and he pulled you closer to him as you sniffled, wrapping his arms around you in comfort once again.
“and what if i like the pain—the danger?” sunghoon asked you quietly. “what if i want to get hurt by you?”
you shook your head once again and turned your head away from him. “you don’t,” you replied. he didn’t know what he was asking, and you knew someday soon you would have to tell him. he turned you towards him again, nodding. “i do,” sunghoon said.
his lips met yours again and you could feel the harsh winds whip around the two of you. the tides bent and broke and turned. you were both caught in a riptide and there was no escaping. your fates were already put in motion.
you were a fool to think you could stop it. you kissed sunghoon back with so much passion and wanting that you were sure it would knock the two of you right over. instead, he kept you stable, kept both of your heads above the water as you got pushed by the tall waves hand in hand. sunghoon kissed you back just as feverishly.
from the second you saw him through the fog you knew that your souls would be intertwined. you knew that you would fall in love with him—there was so stopping it, and you couldn’t no matter how hard you tried.
but then you thought of his bloody, beating heart in your cold hands. his lifeless eyes staring up at you. you had to fight against your rippling love for him, there was no other option. you didn’t want the sea witch to have his pure heart, she didn’t deserve it. and you felt like you didn’t deserve it either.
but the anchor has already been dropped into the water, and by the time you hurriedly pull it back up it would already be too late.
so you kept kissing him. you let everything you felt for him speak for itself through your moving lips on his and hoped that it was enough. you hoped that sunghoon understood it all—hoped that once he found out the truth that he would forgive you for keeping it from him. you hoped that his feelings for you would change.
the woman’s words from earlier seeped between your thoughts. “he’s already swimming down deep for you.” you didn’t think it could get easier. at the end of the time you had, when it was either you or sunghoon, you were choosing him. you just hoped that, in time, it would get easier for him.
it’s been a little over a week since you and sunghoon shared a kiss that shifted everything between the two of you. you tried hard to fight against your rapidly growing love for him, but it seemed like sunghoon fought against you every step of the way. whether it was fleeting but charged touches, longing looks, or the words he spoke, sunghoon was determined to let the feelings between the two of you grow. he’s even gotten more bolder with his displays of affection.
slowly, throughout the time since your kiss, you let yourself feel all the deep and confusing and complex emotions for him. let yourself pretend that you weren’t a doomed mermaid, but a regular human girl who was falling in love.
so, you shivered at his fleeting touch, wishing for more. you hid your heated face as the two of you exchanged longing glances. you melted at his sweet and honest words, as if it was a secret only the two of you shared. and for the first time in your life, you had everything you’ve ever wanted.
“you feeling better today, my pearl?” sunghoon asked you gently. a couple days ago you lightly burned your hand while lighting the oil lamp. it was a mere sting, really, but sunghoon has been fawning over you ever since. when he first called you “my pearl,” a few days after your kiss, it came as a shock.
“my pearl?” you asked him, slight shock fueling your voice. it was later in the day after the two of you finished the majority of what you had to do around the lighthouse. you and sunghoon sat across from each other at the table with a discarded shared meal pushed to the side in the center of you both. his hand intertwined with yours, thumb caressing the back of it.
“like the ones in your hair,” he said, using his free hand to motion to them. his smile—that seemed permanent these days—grew even more and it lit up his whole face. “unless you want to be called something different…”
sunghoon leaned across the small table towards you, tilting his head. his lips were inches from yours. in a low voice, he added, “like sweetheart, or darling, or baby…”
a permanent smile seemed planted on your lips too. your face felt like it was on fire, “i’ll like whatever you want to call me. the only thing that matters is that it comes from your lips.” sunghoon chuckled and his head fell in the other direction before placing a sweet kiss on your lips. “i’ll keep that in mind.”
“i told you, i’m okay,” you started as sunghoon looked over your wrapped hand. he glanced up at you with his brows raised before softly kissing the spot on your hand that you hurt. “there’s no need to worry.”
sunghoon then brought your hand to his chest. you felt the dull thump of his heartbeat and your assuring smile faltered slightly. you pulled your hand away. “we should finish cleaning the lighthouse,” you said, looking down to your feet. you glanced back up and sunghoon nodded. you saw the worry start to settle on his face but you moved before he could say anything else.
later that night, a storm had rolled in. it wasn’t as bad as the one that brought you here, but it still scared you nonetheless. it had woken you up and the thunder shook you to your core. it made you remember that just because you were pretending everything was okay and normal didn’t mean that they were. you had to tell sunghoon the truth at some point, and it had to be soon.
you shakily slid out your bed, clutching tightly to your frilly, high-collared white nightgown, and made cautious steps towards your door. with each strike of lightning, your bedroom illuminated and you saw your shadow dance across the floor. sometimes, it didn’t look like you had legs at all, but a tail still. the more steps you took, the more some of them felt wrong. like you were stepping on hot coals or urchins.
shaking your head as you slowly opened your door, you tried to calm yourself down. it was all in your head, that’s all. everything was okay.
you made your way down the short hall towards sunghoon’s room. carefully, you opened his door, the creaking getting drowned out by the rolling thunder. sunghoon was already awake, staring out his window from his bed at the storm, features drawn in complete focus. his eyes snapped to you and his slowly opening door before softening.
you felt silly, like a child coming to a parent after a bad dream. he must’ve seen how scared you were, because he motioned you over to him. you closed his door before walking over to his bed. you climbed up onto it and sat next to him, the two of you peering out his window.
the storm was even less bad than you thought it was. mainly just a little rain and a lot of thunder. the sea waves weren’t even as bad as you thought they initially seemed.
“the storm should be over soon,” sunghoon said, looking over to you, “the waves of thunder are getting further and further apart.” his spectacles caught the moonlight briefly before he took them off. “here, you should get some sleep.”
sunghoon shifted in the bed and pulled his covers over you, urging you to lay down. once you did, the two of you laid in silence and in the darkness—besides the flash of lightning here and there. you looked over at him in the dark, watching his silhouette. “sunghoon, i—”
your mouth clamped shut. how do you even bring something like ‘cutting someone’s heart out’ up? how do you do it without confirming to yourself and revealing to him that you love him deeply? how would he react to it all? you didn’t want your relationship to change, but this road had to be crossed. you had to let him know that your time was limited together—that you only had roughly another two weeks before you’d be seafoam.
how there is no salvation waiting for you.
you decided that it had to wait another day. one where it wasn’t storming and you could see each other’s faces. he deserved that.
“thank you…” you trailed instead, swallowing the lump in your throat. “for all that you’ve done for me thus far. i can’t tell you how much it all means to me.” you felt him shift and though you didn’t physically see his face, you felt the weight of his eyes on you.
in a quiet voice, you added, “how much you mean to me.”
the warmth of his body next to yours was suddenly too much for you. how different everything felt was, once again, overwhelming. it took everything in you not to cry.
“you mean a lot to me, too,” sunghoon said in the same quiet voice as you. “more than you know.”
his arms reached out towards you and his touch felt like sparks along your body. they wrapped around your body and pulled you closer to him, until your head was resting on his chest and you could hear his quickening heartbeat as his chest rose and fell. it made you want to cry even more.
“i’m glad that you came in, i actually can’t sleep that well during storms,” sunghoon said. you looked up at him and you could almost make out his face. “and your presence is always a welcome one. makes me feel calmer.”
you smiled to yourself, your face heating. “i think i can help with that…” you trailed.
sunghoon looked down and hummed in question. you continued, “there’s a lullaby my mother used to sing to me as a child when i couldn’t sleep.” you began to hum the start of it softly.
like magic, sunghoon felt his body begin to get heavy and his eyes struggled to stay open. he yawned and you stopped humming briefly to giggle before continuing. he pulled you even closer, to the point where you were practically almost on top of him. sunghoon just couldn’t get over the way you smelled like the sea waves. it reminded him so much of everything he loves.
in no time at all he was drifting into a peaceful sleep, feeling like the calm ripples of waves were all around him. and next to him was you—the beautiful maiden who had come from the waves, capturing his heart and singing your beautiful lullabies.
sunghoon was past smitten, was past falling, he was in deep. deeper than he’s ever been before and the more time he spent with you, the farther down he went. sunghoon was in love with you, he just needed some way to put his emotions into words and tell you. there was no doubt in his mind about you not feeling the same.
the weather had grown colder than usual, especially during the night. when you and sunghoon weren’t working around the lighthouse, you were both in the house by the fire, talking about nothing and everything. you had just come back inside from relighting the oil lamp at the top of the lighthouse. “it’s really cold out there!” you exclaimed with a laugh as you walked towards where sunghoon sat on the armchair.
he has just come from lighting the fireplace in his bedroom, where you’ve been sleeping ever since that night a week ago when you came in during a storm. sunghoon extended his hand towards you and you intertwined your fingers with his. he quickly pulled you to him and you fell into his lap with a squeal while he laughed. “let me warm you up then, my love,” sunghoon chuckled, pressing warm kisses to your cold cheeks.
the fire in the downstairs hearth was already merely warm embers and it was nearly time for bed. sunghoon pressed a lasting kiss to your lips, both of your mouths moving in sync before you had to break away for air. you stared into his brown eyes with wide eyes, lips just a breath away from each other. sunghoon’s hand was cupping your cheek and for a moment, it was just the two of you in the whole world.
you inhaled sharply before kissing him again. it was full of that same passion and want from the first kiss the two of you shared. in the midst of it, you twisted in his lap, hiking up your nightgown and straddling him as your lips worked against each other.
it felt like the jar you kept all you love for him began to crack until it finally exploded, letting all of the love flow freely. it was too much to contain—too powerful to control. there was no stopping it and it all only grew more and more. it felt as if there was fire in the pit of your belly, making your skin hot and your head clouded.
you pulled away from sunghoon’s lips just enough to speak. “take me,” you whispered lowly. you saw the way his eyes widened and his grasp on your hips tightened. “please,” you begged before placing your lips back on his with a hot kiss.
sunghoon sat the two of you up so you were no longer leaning back on the armchair. it seemed like it took everything in him to rip his lips away from yours. he stood and you intertwined your hand with his and led him up the stairs.
when the two of you made it to his room you let go of his hand as he stoked the fire. you pulled off your white nightgown and let it fall to the floor below. you then crawled onto his bed as you waited, completely naked. the warmth of the flames made your already hot skin feel like it was on fire.
sunghoon froze when he saw you on the bed, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape. he watched as the flickering light bathed you in warm hues and made your hair glitter with all of the pearls strung in it. you smiled at him shyly, you gaze casting down for a moment before looking back up at him. you were so beautiful that it truly took sunghoon’s breath away.
he wasted no time, stripping off his own clothes before climbing onto his bed and on top of you, his lips latching with yours in a heated kiss.
you moaned against his lips when his hand slid in between the two of you and down to where you needed him the most. with his thumb, he rubbed at the sensitive bud and made your back arch off of the bedsheets. you whimpered into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you.
sunghoon’s thumb then traveled down farther, spreading your arousal between your folds and having you whining. his warm hands sent electricity through your body and you didn’t know how much more you’d be able to take if he didn’t do something. you pulled away from his lips, chest rising and falling heavily as your brows knitted together. “i need you,” you begged in a low voice.
sunghoon then slipped a finger inside of you, causing you to gasp and hold onto him tighter. he watched as your face twisted into pleasure and he slowly began to pump it in and out of you, savoring the way your body reacted to him and his touch. once you were clawing at his back, he slipped in another finger, curling them at just the right angle to have you melt underneath him.
you’ve never felt pleasure like this before and it made you angry that you waited so long with sunghoon. the way he repeatedly pushed his slender fingers inside you, coating them with your wetness, made every withering scale and the pain worth it. as long as you got to be with him, everything was worth it.
sunghoon pressed open mouthed kisses down your neck and to your breasts. his tongue circled your nipple before he pulled away. you were writhing beneath him, soft moans falling from your lips at the way his fingers moved. they only got louder when he would curl them at just the right moment and pressed up against your sweet spot.
he watched with a satisfied smile as you tried to press your legs together, a whimpering mess. he pushed one of your legs away with his free hand, his fingers splaying across your thigh and keeping it up towards your chest. soon, he felt your walls grip his fingers tightly before you were covering them in a pretty white. but, sunghoon wasn’t finished with you just yet. he was determined to make this the best night of your life.
helping you ride out your high, he brought his lips back down to yours as he slowly pumped his fingers inside you. your chest rose and fell as you tried to fill your lungs up with oxygen, but you still turned the slow kiss into a deeper one.
“are you ready, baby?” sunghoon asked you in a soft voice, breaking away from your lips. you nodded eagerly, you were more than ready.
he moved so he sat back on his knees, pushing your legs apart as he pulled his wet fingers out of you. you leaned up on your elbows to watch him. more arousal pooled in your stomach as you looked over him and the way the firelight bounced off of him. he looked heavenly, completely angelic. and tonight he was all yours—not the land’s, not the sea’s, yours. and you were his.
slowly, sunghoon slid into you. you gasped loudly at the feeling of being so full, so completely enraptured by him. once he was fully inside you, he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. your lips moved in sync with his and you wrapped your legs around his hips to bring him closer to you.
sunghoon started to rut his hips forward, repeatedly pushing himself inside of you. he moaned at how good you felt around him, at how beautiful you looked underneath him with your pretty moans and your face full of pleasure. it was everything he wanted and more. he never wanted this night to end.
the two of you tried to pull each other impossibly closer. you were both desperate for each other’s touch and no matter how close you were, it wasn’t close enough.
you pulled away from sunghoon’s lips after fighting the urge to breathe for too long and buried your face in his neck. he pressed chaste kisses to your shoulder as your bodies moved in motion. it was like two waves colliding over and over again.
inside of you, you felt the rope of pleasure start to fray and snap. you whimpered, breathing heavily as you looked up sunghoon and the thin sheen of sweat that made him glow even more. “please,” you begged him, whining as your back arched off the bed again and your hips lifted towards his. “please, please, please.”
your head felt too clouded and it took all of your effort to even say that simple word. you were so close, so-so close. your body never felt like this before, tingly all over and on fire. it was such a stark contrast to how it felt when you were a mermaid. did humans always feel like this, or was this purely from sunghoon’s actions?
you weakly sat up, wrapping your arms around sunghoon’s neck for leverage. a desperate need overtook your senses as you rocked your hips against him in time with the way he pushed into you. the both of you moaned as the new sudden feeling.
“you feel so good,” sunghoon murmured. “so perfect.”
he sloppily smashed his lips against yours, too eager to kiss you properly with how good you were making each other feel. it felt like your bodies were made for each other—like the two of you were made for each other.
soon, the rope completely snapped and you moaned loudly against his lips, body shaking as your movement halted. more whines and moans fell from your parted lips as sunghoon kept moving. you held him tightly, scared that if you were to let go you would fall apart completely.
it wasn’t long after that you felt warmness spill inside you. sunghoon stilled, his head falling into the crook of your neck and his breathing coming out haggard. soft moans emitted from him and for a moment the two of you caught your breaths in silence.
once you felt like you weren’t in the clouds, a shy giggle escaped you. sunghoon looked up from your neck, an amused smile on his face. “what?” he asked. you shook your head as you giggled more, kissing him briefly. you intertwined your hands with his.
“that was heavenly,” you smiled, your face completely hot. sunghoon brought his hand up to cradle your cheek, his thumb caressing the warm skin, before kissing you again with a grin. “is it always like that?” you wondered.
he laughed, shaking his head a little. “not in my experience—no. nothing close to that,” he replied. “you’re just special.”
a sheepish smile tugged at your face and you looked away from his gaze. sunghoon pressed a kiss to your jaw and you giggled more as he pressed another to your neck. “come on,” he murmured against your skin, “let’s get you cleaned up, darling.”
after the two of you were cleaned up, you laid together on his bed beneath the covers, the dwindling firelight illuminating the two of you. your back was to sunghoon’s chest and he trailed the tips of his fingers along your shoulder and arm, sometimes softly kissing it.
you turned to face him and he fondly smiled down at you, causing his expression to mirror on your own face. he leaned down to kiss you. “my pearl,” sunghoon whispered affectionately before kissing you again.
the next day, the air around you and sunghoon was charged. no longer were the touches fleeting and the two of you shared longing glances. everything was practically out in the open now, one of you just had to bridge the gap completely.
a deep rooted sensation bubbled inside you and you could only describe it as fear. you had to tell sunghoon about the sea witch’s deal, and you had to do it today. you were running out of time—with only a week left—and it couldn’t be put off any longer.
it made the fear in the pit of your stomach worse when you noticed how sunghoon looked at you—how he always looked at you. it was full of love and hope and yearning. you could almost see the words forming at the tip of his tongue without him needing to say anything.
it made you feel guilty that you waited until the last moment to say anything.
sunghoon couldn’t keep his eyes off of you for the whole day. he kept falling behind in his duties because he was too busy focused on you. too focused on the way your dress swayed as you moved, or the way the pearls in your hair glittered in the sunlight, completely free from the up-do that the women of the village wore. or the way you smiled at him every time you caught him staring, that smile that he would do anything and everything for.
the fire lighting the lighthouse was nothing compared to the fire that burned in his heart for you, so blinding that it was the only thing he could make out. you set him alight, made his skin hot and his cheeks rosy. sunghoon felt like he didn’t even need his thicker, wool clothes with you around him. you made his heart race and race until he was sure it would go jumping out of his chest and into your gentle hands.
how could he not love you? from the moment he saw you it felt like something clicked into place within himself. like you were the final piece he’s been waiting for and he was now complete. you completed him.
if you were the lighthouse, sunghoon was the boats and ships drawn to your light with the excitement of land. for the rest of his days, his soul would desperately call out to yours until you came home to him. he was the moth and you were the flame—and he would gladly get burned by your heat if that meant he could be with you, however brief.
you were springtime with the promise of pretty, blooming flowers. the sunlight bouncing off the ripples of the sea and the cool air that flowed up from it. you were the shadows that the leaves cast on the ground and the calming sound of the remnants of waves hitting the rocks. sunghoon could shout from the top of the lighthouse everything he adored about you, but by the time he would be anywhere close to finishing you both would be old and grey, skin wrinkled from all the times you made him laugh and smile.
today was the day, he had to tell you how he felt. he couldn’t keep it locked inside him any longer.
after the two of you finished everything for the day, sunghoon pulled you inside and away from the chilling winds. he sat you on the couch and nervously twiddled his thumbs as he forced the words from his mouth, and once he started he found it even harder to stop.
“i love you,” sunghoon finally breathed. “i love you so much that it’s too much to contain. it spills out of me like uncontrollable rivers. i could tell you over and over and it still wouldn’t be enough—i love you, i love you, i love you!”
he grasped your hands in his, desperately holding onto them as he stared into your eyes with furrowed brows. nothing would be able to capture sunghoon’s love for you and it frustrated him to no end, yet, it didn’t stop him from trying. “i love you like the water loves the land. like the sun loves the moon and all of the stars in the sky,” he finally concluded.
you stared at him with a melancholic look and for a moment sunghoon thought that he might’ve been mistaken. that he read into you a little too much. but, all his worries were eased when you flung yourself into his arms and into his lap, making him fall back against the couch from the edge. you kissed him so passionately that it took his breath away again, but he was content with the burning in his lungs.
“i love you,” you told him, like you had discovered the secrets to the world and it all lied within him. “you paint all of my skies the most saturated colors of blue like i’ve never seen before. you’re the air in my lungs and the beating of my heart—oh, i love you so much!”
all sunghoon could do was laugh joyously as he held you close to him, planting a million and one kisses onto your face as you, too, laughed. he didn’t think he’d ever be this happy in his life, and it was all because of you. no longer were his days lonely and grey; they were filled with the most magnificent colors and your presence.
you didn’t realize the tears that began to fall down your face, or how the overwhelming fear in your stomach came to the surface until you got a good look at sunghoon’s happy face. you inhaled sharply before it was all too much and you broke down completely. at first, sunghoon thought they were happy tears until he saw the way you violently shook and his smile faltered.
he pulled you to his chest as his hand rubbed comforting circles against your back. “you’re crying, my pearl? why are you sad?” he asked you he gently, pulling you away from him so he could see your face.
you shook your head, sniffling and wiping the tears from your cheeks. “i’m happy! i’m so happy for the first time in my life and it’s because of you,” you started. “only, i’m still that naive girl i was when i first washed up on your shore, because this can’t last…”
sunghoon’s brows drew together further. “what do you mean, my love?”
and so you told him everything. about how when you were a mermaid you dreamed of having legs like the landwalkers did, dreamed of walking on land and leading a human life. you told him how you would watch the villagers and then how the lighthouse caught your attention and you saw him from the water for the very first time and knew that he would always have your heart. you told him of the childhood story your father use to tell you of the mermaid who wished for legs and the sea witch who granted it.
finally, you told him about how you sought out said sea witch and found her, making a wish for legs of your very own. about the precedent of the deal and how it required you to cut out the beating heart of the human who you loved the most—him. then, you told him how you could never go through with it, how you’d rather throw yourself to the sea and become seafoam before ever thinking of hurting him.
sunghoon sat quietly with a slight look of horror as you spoke, intently listening to every word that fell from your mouth. “don’t you see why i told you it was dangerous for us to get closer? why it’s not safe?” you cried. “and it’s all my fault… i should’ve insisted that you take me to the village instead of staying. now we only have a week left before i leave you forever.”
another moment passed as you cried and cried and sunghoon held you as tightly as he could, fearful that you’d crumble completely in his arms. he struggled to wrap his mind around the whole thing—around the fact that your time together was limited.
sunghoon couldn’t bear living without you, that was the only stable thought in his mind.
he took your face in his hands and gently wiped away your tears with the pads of his thumbs. it broke his heart to see you so sad, so defeated. all sunghoon wanted to see was your beautiful smile again.
“why did you think i’d let you sacrifice yourself for me?” he asked. as if he’d let you do such a thing. he would rather carve out his heart himself and throw it to the sea if it meant you could keep the life you dreamed of.
you threw his words back at him, “why did you think i’d let you sacrifice yourself for me? it’s not a life if you aren’t in it.”
“because my heart already beats for you.” you shook your head at his words but sunghoon just nodded. “it does. and i want you to have everything you’ve ever wanted, even if it’s at the cost of my own life.”
“no…” you shook your head as more tears fell from your watery eyes. “no,” you stated more firmly. “this life means nothing to me without you. i’m not giving her your heart and neither are you. it’ll be hard when i’m gone, but it will get easier with time. we just have to make the most of the week we have left.”
sunghoon just tilted his head at you and shook his head as tears of his own fell from his eyes. it wouldn’t get easier, and no matter how close he held you, it wouldn’t be close enough.
in the days leading towards the end of the month you were given, you and sunghoon spent every waking moment together. duties were cast aside to only its bare bones and deemed unimportant. you spent time leaving little pieces of yourself on the tiny island. you had taken some of the pearls from your hair and sewn them onto the hat that sunghoon always wore; he even let you weave some of them into the strands of his hair.
a storm had begun to brew along the horizon of the sea that left everything dark and cloudy. you knew that the storm was for you—for him, and it saddened you deeply. it also filled you with a grim determination. the sea witch wouldn’t have sunghoon’s heart. you would die making sure that was true.
it felt as if all hope was lost. like a blanket of complete darkness covered the two of you and you walked lost through it. the majority of the week was spent as if you both were mourning each other, and you were. sunghoon just couldn’t believe that this would be the last time he would ever see you again—he refused to believe it.
he ensured that he had as much physical attachments of you two together as possible, even going so far to hire a photographer and have your pictures taken. at night, he could hear you weeping and he couldn’t do anything to comfort you except hold you. it wasn’t enough for either of you. how could the two of you possibly pretend to be happy when you both knew that the end was near? that the two of you were doomed from the very start?
it was like ice replaced all the warmth inside him and froze him down to the marrow in his bones. the only spark inside him was his undying love for you.
it felt strange to feel such deep and heartbreaking, mournful sorrow over someone who was still living. like his one true love was already taken from him.
how would sunghoon live on once you were gone? everywhere he goes he would search for you, whether that be beneath the empty covers of his bed or between the flickering light of the lighthouse. would he see someone at the village and think that it was you, only for them to turn and he’d see that it wasn’t? would he see the glittering sunlight along the water and think that it was the pearls in your hair—that you’ve returned home to him? he couldn’t bear it all.
but, he couldn’t do anything to stop it. the final day was here and the storm that was previously brewing in the horizon raged on, demanding to be felt—demanding the heart it came for. unease sunk deep into sunghoon, and as you both watched the storm and harsh winds from the window he held you close.
“please,” sunghoon begged, voice hoarse, barely above a whisper and half-muffled from his face buried in your hair, “please, don’t do this. we can figure out another way, just… just don’t go.”
sunghoon had been crying all night and the storm didn’t help one bit. even your lullaby only barely managed to make him fall asleep. he didn’t want to miss a single precious second with you by sleeping. he had the rest of his life without you to sleep.
“it’s too late, my love,” you said somberly. you shifted to face him, tears welling in your eyes. “there’s no other option. i have to do this. it’s the only way… you’re the land and i’m the sea—we only touch for a brief moment.”
you pressed your lips to sunghoon’s firmly, letting all your passion and love for him seep through it. no matter how much your lungs ached and your head pounded, you both didn’t break away. if it was going to be your last kiss, it would be one you’ll both remember forever.
only when you felt like you were about to pass out did you gently pull away from him. a strike of lightning followed by a vicious roar of thunder sounded. “it is time,” you whispered.
you stood from the couch, forcing yourself to break away from sunghoon and the life you cherished so deeply. you bent down to give him one last hug. “i love you, forever,” you said, “and i’ll miss you for even longer.”
“i love you,” sunghoon said, his voice breaking into a cry as tears slid down his face. “i miss you.” with bated breath, sunghoon looked up at you through his tears, “i’m sorry.”
you shook your head at sunghoon as you stood to your full height, your hand falling from his face and you wiped away his tears. you inhaled sharply and you got one last look at him, one last look at him to burn into your mind before you turned to seafoam.
you took in every inch of him, down to the hat with your pearls sewn onto it discarded at his feet and the pearls woven into his dark hair as he ran his hands through it. sunghoon was so drastically different from when you first met him, yet, completely the same all at once. it broke your heart into a million pieces to see him this way and have it be all because of you.
inhaling deeply, you turned your back before he could convince you to stay. your hand lingered near the door and you turned back to him one last time. “goodbye, my love, my sunghoon.”
with your last goodbye, you opened the door and faced the storm.
there was no use in delaying the inevitable. you stomped towards the water, stripping off your clothes and your last shred of humanity. anger permeated you, hot like the flame of the flickering lighthouse.
it was so unfair. it was so unfair that you couldn’t have the one thing you’ve ever wished for. but you guessed that it was no easy wish going against nature. a thing belonging to the sea cannot step onto the land without consequences—and here you were, facing them. walking headfirst back to the sea—to your own death, like one would if they had pockets full of stones.
you barely got to your knees in the water before red-hot pain spread throughout your legs, the same pain that you felt when they formed from your tail. soon after you were falling to the water, your deep blue, color shifting tail emerging from behind you. you dived underwater, thankful for once that mermaids couldn’t cry.
you began to swim further out into the sea, watching as more and more of your body transformed back to its original state. the entire time you thought of the sea witch, of how you hated her and her cruelness. she did this to you—she let you dream of hope only to turn the lights back out. you never should’ve made that bargain.
above you, you saw the water ripple like something was dropped in. you wouldn’t have thought anything of it if not for the feeling against your tail. you stopped swimming and twisted to look behind you.
shock filled you and your eyes widened. sunghoon swam towards you, clothes flowing in the water as he got closer.
no. what was he doing here? doesn’t he know how dangerous it is for him to be in the sea at this moment? you wanted to lecture him, scream at him—but, all that filled you was the love you have for him.
sunghoon reached out his hands toward your face and gently grabbed your cheeks. he swam forward and placed his lips onto yours. you should’ve known that he wouldn’t let you go alone, that he would be there with you until the very end—even if you told him over and over that it would only make the pain worse.
you pulled away and let yourself smile at him one last time—for the first time as what you truly were. that smile quickly faltered when you saw all the red start to seep out from around the two of you, feeling the knife against your chest.
looking down, you gasped and bubbles of air floated towards the surface. lodged in sunghoon’s chest was a knife with blood rapidly coming from it. you shook your head at him, brows knitting together in anguish, and sunghoon just nodded.
you refused to let him do this—to let him die. to let him die for you. it wasn’t supposed to be like this. it was supposed to be you, not him. you were supposed to be the sacrifice.
you linked your arms under his and swam as fast as you could to the shore, bringing sunghoon towards the surface and fighting against the harsh waves. every second felt like a grain of sand in an hourglass, and you didn’t have much sand left. you now know what he meant when he said “i’m sorry.”
sunghoon didn’t have much time, you knew that from the way he began to cough violently. you dragged him as far up on the shore and as far away from the water as you possibly could with the hindrance of your tail. the sea witch wouldn’t have him, you will die making sure of it.
you started screaming for help until your voice was hoarse, but it was no use against the whipping winds of the storm. nobody would hear you on this tiny island away from the village anyway. “why?” you asked him, tears falling from your face, “why would you do this? the sea doesn’t deserve a heart like yours.”
sunghoon grabbed your hands and brought them to the hilt of the blade in his chest. “take it… it’s yours. it will always be yours,” he said hoarsely. blood spilled past his lips and you cried harder. “go, be free. walk on land and live the life you’ve always wanted. be human.”
he violently coughed more and more blood coated his lips.
“it’s not a life i want if it isn’t with you,” you cried, removing your hands from the hilt and pressing them to his wound. your hands were stained but the blood wouldn’t stop.
sunghoon took your hands in his, “it’s not a world i want to live in if you’re not by my side, my pearl.”
with the last of his strength, sunghoon wrapped his hands around the hilt and harshly pulled the blade from his chest. you gasped as more blood gushed from the wound and stained his shirt red. “no, no, no!” you sobbed louder with each word.
“kiss.. me… one last time?” sunghoon heaved in question. his eyes started to close but he fought to keep them open—he wouldn’t waste any more precious seconds.
you couldn’t believe that it was all ending like this—that it all could come to this. you stupid, half-witted, naive little guppy. how dare you dream of a life you could never have?
you sniffled and nodded. you didn’t care that his blood would be on your lips, you bent down to press yours to his anyway. as they moved in sync you could feel the life draining from him and you pulled away, letting him get as much oxygen as he possibly can. it wasn’t supposed to be this way.
sunghoon smiled up at you and it was the last glimmer of light in the darkness as the rain poured down around the two of you. he cupped your face gently, his hand trembling. “my pearl…” he whispered, “my y/n… i love you so much.”
with those last words, sunghoon’s eyes closed and his hand fell from your face and into the wet sand below.
you looked down at him with wide, watery eyes. a loud sob ripped through you and you cried until your chest felt like exploding and you could barely see from the burning tears. you raised a shaky hand and placed it softly on sunghoon’s chest where his heart resided. it no longer beat. he was gone, truly… gone.
you took the knife laying limply in his other hand and threw it as far away from the two of you as you could. you then laid your head on his chest like you did all those nights ago in the bed you shared, only, it wasn’t the same.
sunghoon was gone. his warm body was now cold and his beating heart had stilled. all that was left was you—and soon, even you would cease to exist.
you felt tingling in your tail, little stabbing pains that would hurt if you didn’t feel so numb right now. you knew that you were withering away—turning into seafoam like the sea witch promised with only your heart to leave behind so she could collect it. you welcomed it, for you had nothing left.
let her take your heart, so long as she doesn’t touch his.
softly, you began to hum the lullaby your mother used to sing to you as a child. you hoped that it would aid sunghoon on his journey beyond, that the storm would no longer make him anxious and instead he felt calm. that it would gently lull him to where he needed to be.
more tears slid down your wet cheeks from the lack of sound in chest. how it didn’t rise and fall with his breathing. but, you continued humming.
the fin of your tail started to turn first. seafoam overtook it and fell away into the sand in a pool of foamy white. you closed your eyes as it spread further and further up your body. you hummed until you physically couldn’t anymore—until your entire body was seafoam and so were your lips. until you were nothing but a beating heart against sunghoon’s still chest.
the storm began to melt away, the dark clouds very slowly rolling back towards the magic that casted them and the rain traveling upwards towards them. it is unknown how long the remnants of your bodies laid in the wet sand, curled into each other.
there was no telling where sunghoon ended and you began.
deep down below at the sea floor there is a rumbling. a loud, angry scream follows and it is said it can be heard for miles. the sea witch tries with all her might, but her waters are just too far away from where the two lovers lie. she is unable to take their hearts, for they are their own—they belong to each other and no one else. and soon after, your heart turns to seafoam too. the two of you, at once, were home with each other.
while the law searches the tiny island to figure out what came of the lighthouse keeper, they find a picture of a woman with pearls in her hair—similar to the pearls found in the lighthouse keeper’s hair—and a shifting blue scale. the picture and scale was hidden in a pocket close to his chest and free from any blood. the woman was never found and the villagers have no recollection of her—despite the various photographs around the lighthouse keeper’s small home.
through the breaking light of the dawn, it is said you can see two souls turn to one.
