#merman!bts
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kiwistede · 2 years ago
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Rhys turning into a mermaid Behind the Flag: Mermaid Day by Samba Schutte
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mrsvante · 3 months ago
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Waiting in the Water - Eight
pairing: jimin x oc
genre: mermaid au, strangers to lovers, angst
summary: when alma finds an injured man on the shore, she has no idea he belongs to a world beyond her own. jimin is unlike anyone she's ever met—mischievous yet gentle, with an undeniable pull that draws her in. as he helps her find joy again, she opens his eyes to the beauty of life on land, and their connection deepens into something neither of them can ignore.
but jimin's presence hasn't gone unnoticed, and forces from the sea threaten to tear them apart. with the weight of two worlds pressing down on them, alma and jimin must decide if love is enough to bridge the divide—or if some destinies can never be rewritten.
warnings: smut (more like soft & sensual love making), growling (jimin’s not the ‘little mermaid’ type), biting, light ritualistic copulation (fully consensual), soft soft dom jimin, unprotected sex (please wrap it up), jimin’s first time
word count: 3,259
Bound by Moonlight
You want to be here, lost in this moment—your body aflame beneath Jimin’s touch. His fingertips dance over your skin, teasing, coaxing, stoking a fire that threatens to consume you.
He toys with your restraint, pushing you to the edge of bliss, yet something inside you resists.
Your mind refuses to quiet.
Thoughts crash and tumble in a chaotic whirlwind—jagged pieces of memories bleeding into one another. A little girl with Jimin’s eyes. Your first kiss. The night you saw him torn and bloodied, sprawled across the rocks. The nervous tremble in your hands as you walked down the aisle. Placing third in the county science debate. A tangled mess of everything and nothing at all.
“You are distracted.”
Jimin’s voice draws you back. You meet his gaze, then quickly shift to his lips, anywhere but the piercing depth of his eyes.
He cups your chin, guiding you into a kiss that is lush, consuming, breathtaking. His lips brush against yours, chasing away the noise in your head. You melt into him, desperate to drown in the softness, to be rid of the never ending flood of thoughts.
But just as you surrender, he pulls away, grinning as his thumb sweeps tenderly across your cheek. He taps a finger against your temple. “What storms wreak havoc inside here?”
You smile faintly as he twirls the stray wisps of your hair between his fingers.
“I—” You hesitate, biting your lip. A fluttering heat coils in your stomach. “I think I’m nervous.” The words feel foreign on your tongue. “May wasn’t lying. It’s been three years. I haven’t been with anyone since…” You trail off, words dissolving into uncertainty.
Jimin tilts his head, jawline sharp in the dim light, his gaze tracing over your skin like the last golden rays of sunset. He doesn’t speak, and the silence sends you spiraling.
You want to hide upstairs, wrap yourself in a blanket, and let the moment pass.
“Would you like to know a secret?” His boyish smile pulls a matching one from your lips, anchoring you back to him.
He leans in, chest to chest, close enough that you know he must feel the frantic rhythm of your heart. His lips brush your ear, the ghost of a whisper sending a shiver down your spine.
“I am nervous as well.”
Your breath hitches.
“You will be my first,” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes again—always looking into your eyes, as if he can see the parts of you no one else has ever dared to. “And my last. So I ask for your forgiveness for my fumbles.”
He grins.
“Fumbles?” You scoff, heat rising in your cheeks. “What you did earlier was anything but a fumble.”
Jimin leans in again, lips barely brushing yours, teasing. The tension crackles between you, electric, a dance of push and pull.
“The same could be said for you, my love.” His voice is molten, dripping with something heady, something dangerous. “To witness pleasure consume you was a gift from the Goddess herself.”
He takes your hand, lacing his fingers through yours as he leads you upstairs.
“You and your words,” you laugh, shaking your head. “They never fail.” Then, softer, more hesitant, “I just don’t want to disappoint you.”
He stops.
Turns.
Stares.
Standing a step above you, his presence is suddenly commanding. The air shifts, charged, and the space between you crackles with heat.
His fingers trail over your shoulder, tracing the delicate strap of your dress. With one simple movement, he pushes it aside, watching as the fabric slips down your body, pooling at your feet.
Jimin drinks you in, his gaze dark, reverent. “You are who I have waited for, my love. Never doubt that.”
His voice is a growl just before he lifts you effortlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist as he strides toward the bedroom.
Your gasp turns into a breathless laugh when your back hits the mattress, bouncing slightly from the force. The nervous tremor in your limbs has vanished, replaced by something thicker, heavier—desire, heady and intoxicating.
Through hooded eyes, you watch as Jimin undresses, each layer revealing golden skin, dusted with silvered scars that catch the dying light. Lithe muscle shifts beneath velvet-soft skin, a breathtaking contrast of steel and silk.
And then—
Your breath catches.
Your gaze drops as he steps out of his pants, naked in all his glory.
Oh.
Your mouth dries.
Curiosity wins, and your eyes widen, taking in the sight of him—thick, heavy, perfectly distended, the tip glistening with need.
Your body moves before your mind can catch up. Sliding off the bed, you sink to your knees, heat curling low in your belly as you watch him twitch under your gaze.
Jimin’s breath stutters. His thighs tense when your fingers wrap around him, testing, exploring. Silken heat, firm yet yielding, blood-warm under your touch.
A slow stroke earns you a low, guttural groan. A bead of precum leaks from his tip, tempting, beckoning—
You lean in, tongue flicking out for a taste.
The reaction is immediate. A sharp inhale, a tremor in his legs, a strangled sound torn from his throat.
“T-This night is about your—blessed goddess—pleasure, not mine,” he rasps.
You hum against him, savoring the weight of him on your tongue, the way he twitches at every flick, every suck, every slow, deliberate movement. His hands cradle your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks, his expression contorted in something between agony and euphoria.
When his hips jerk forward, the thick head of his cock nudging the back of your throat, he pulls you away with a wet pop, chest heaving.
His skin glistens in the dim glow of the room, breath ragged, muscles tight with restraint.
Sin incarnate.
“You deceived me, sweet love.” Jimin’s voice is a low, dangerous purr. “I had thought my mate would be a gentle wave of allure.”
Suddenly, you’re on the bed again, spread beneath him, drowning in the molten intensity of his gaze.
“But you,” he whispers, lips ghosting over yours, “are a tsunami of carnal desire.”
Fingers dig into the soft meat of your thighs, dragging you forward until you teeter on the very edge of the bed. A moan tumbbles from your lips, your body buzzing from the simplest touch—the cool sheets whispering against your overheated skin, the teasing air gliding over the stiff peaks of your nipples.
Jimin’s eyes trace every inch of you, dark and unreadable, his chest rising and falling as he drinks in the sight of your trembling body laid out before him.
His pupils, already blown wide, flicker with something beyond hunger—something ancient, something inevitable.
“I thought your smile and your laugh were my favorite things about you,” he murmurs, voice thick with heat. He lifts your leg over his shoulder, lips grazing the sensitive skin of your ankle before sharp teeth sink gently into your calf. The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, and you gasp.
“But then I made you moan.”
Your back arches, a desperate whimper falling from your lips. “Jimin.”
You feel slick arousal spill out of you, pooling between the cheeks of your ass, betraying the aching need consuming you. Every second of this teasing is driving you mad, and when you try to tug him closer with the leg draped over his shoulder, his grip tightens, keeping you spread and at his mercy.
He growls low in his throat. “I will not be rushed, nor interrupted again.”
A shudder wracks through you when he slides a single finger over your swollen folds, collecting the evidence of your desire. You jerk your hips toward him, offering yourself freely, but he merely chuckles, fingers moving with an infuriating slowness.
Then, with practiced ease, his fingers disappear into your cunt.
Your walls flutter, clenching tight, desperate to pull him deeper. The stretch is delicious, the press of his knuckles relentless.
“Oh god, please—”
“Beautiful.”
His fingers sink in, curling just right, finding every spot that makes you twitch and cry out. He watches, entranced, as your breasts bounce with every thrust, his thumb dragging lazy circles around your puffy clit just to hear the sound of your moans.
You feel yourself unraveling beneath him, and the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips tells you he knows it, too.
A sharp gasp rips from your throat when his lips finally descend, capturing a stiff nipple between them. His tongue swirls in slow, deliberate circles, teasing until your eyes roll back and your breath stutters. Your body responds instantly, your hips rocking into his hand, chasing the pleasure that’s building, winding tighter and tighter.
“Jimin,” you pant, fingers tangling in his hair. “Close—I’m so close.”
The confession only spurs him on.
He kisses his way down the valley of your breasts, dragging his tongue over every inch of skin he can reach. His lips linger at the curve of your stomach before he slips lower, shoulders parting your thighs as he settles between them.
Strong hands grip your trembling legs, spreading you open, exposing your swollen, dripping cunt to his greedy gaze.
The first flick of his tongue against your clit is searing, a bolt of lightning shooting down your spine, igniting every nerve.
“Ah—!”
You don’t hear the cry that rips from your throat—ears ringing, mind blanking as Jimin feasts. The wet slide of his tongue, the obscene sounds filling the room, the way his fingers move inside you with devastating precision.
It’s too much.
Your thighs tremble around his head, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow. He devours you like a man starved, like your pleasure is the only thing keeping him alive. The feeling of you pulsing around his fingers has him rutting against the bed for some relief, his breath heavy, lips and chin slick with your arousal.
You’re so close, right there, and he wants—needs—to watch you break.
“Release it, Alma.” His voice is rough, almost commanding. His fingers spread, opening you wider for his tongue to glide inside. “Take from me your pleasure.”
That’s all it takes.
Your body seizes, waves of blinding ecstasy crashing over you, stealing your breath, your thoughts…everything. Your back bows, fingers digging into the sheets as your climax rips through you, relentless, all consuming, and toe curling.
Jimin groans against you, drinking in every drop of your release.
When you finally come back to yourself, your body is weak, trembling. But you’re not done. Not even close.
You rise on shaky arms, hunger still burning deep in your gut, and when your eyes meet his, you know he feels it too.
His mouth, his nose, his chin are coated in your cum, evidence of the destruction he’s wrought upon your body. His pupils are blown wide, black with lust and something else. Something deeper.
Determination.
His hand is slick with your release, strings of arousal snapping as he lifts his fingers to your lips. You part them without hesitation, taking his fingers into your mouth, tongue sliding over every crease and knuckle, tasting yourself on him.
Jimin groans, low and deep. The sound sends a fresh wave of arousal straight to your core.
When he pulls his fingers free, it’s with a wet pop, and the way he smiles—dark, knowing—makes your thighs press together instinctively.
Then he’s over you, arms braced on either side of your head, the weight of his body pressing you into the bed. Your breath catches when his nose brushes yours, a tender contrast to the raw hunger burning between you.
“My love,” he murmurs, “my sweet Alma.”
Your heart stutters.
It makes your head spin, the way he shifts so effortlessly between tender and ruthless. His lips press kisses of marshmallow sweetness into your skin only to sink his teeth in seconds later, carving pleasure from your flesh.
Then, lower.
His body cages you in, muscles flexing as he positions himself between your legs. The slick head of his cock drags through your folds, catching at your entrance, teasing.
He breathes against your lips, “Our souls will bind when I recite the vow of mates.”
The words send a shiver down your spine.
“You will be mine…”
His voice is reverent, a promise sealed in fate.
“…forever.”
Then, with one slow, deliberate thrust, he enters you.
Your jaw falls open, a silent cry breaking free as your walls stretch around him, greedy, desperate, clinging to every inch.
Jimin groans, head dropping to your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. “Blessed goddess,” he rasps, “you are divine, sweet love.”
A broken moan tumbles from your lips when he pulls out, just enough for the crown of his cock to catch at your entrance before he sinks in deeper. Inch by inch, he claims you, rocking his hips in a slow, measured pace, dragging pleasure from your body with every thrust.
The bond begins to take root.
Heat surges through your veins, wrapping around your soul like vines of molten gold. Jimin’s body tenses, his breath hitching, and for a moment, everything stops—before a wave of raw, unfiltered power crashes through him.
His transformation begins.
The change is subtle at first. A shift in the air, a tremor beneath his skin. But then, his body tenses, a sharp gasp punching from his lungs as the transformation takes hold.
His fingers dig into the sheets beside your head, his muscles quivering with the strain of something bigger, something primal unfurling inside him. The veins in his forearms stand out, dark against his flushed skin, and his pupils, already blown wide with lust, swallow the last traces of silver in his irises.
Jimin’s breath shudders against your throat, his lips barely brushing your pulse. “Alma…” The name is a whisper, a plea, a claim.
Heat coils around your bodies, unseen but undeniable. The bond is forming, threading itself between your souls, tightening with every thrust, every shared breath. You can feel it, him, inside you in more ways than one. His essence merging with yours, his energy pulling you under, deeper, deeper, until there is no beginning and no end, only this.
He groans, low and guttural, his hips stuttering as the change overtakes him. His body swells with power, his scent intensifies—simmering spice, thick and intoxicating, like the embers of a fire coaxed back to life.
Then, his teeth sharpen.
You feel them graze the delicate skin of your shoulder, a silent warning, a promise of what’s to come. His cock throbs inside you, filling you completely, stretching you to the point of pleasure laced pain, and yet, you crave more.
“Jimin—”
The sound of your voice breaks him.
A growl rumbles from his chest, deep and inhuman, vibrating against your skin. His thrusts quicken, harder now, driven by something beyond lust.
Your nails rake down his back, his skin feverish to the touch. His hair clings to his forehead, damp with sweat, but his lips never stop moving. Whispering your name like a prayer, pressing kisses over your throat, over your heart.
Then, the bite.
Pain blooms first, sharp and electric, before it melts into something else. Something so overwhelming, so all consuming it steals the air from your lungs.
The bond snaps into place.
A white hot flood of energy rushes through you, burning through every nerve, every cell. Your body arches, your vision blurs, your mind fractures under the sheer force of it—of him.
Jimin’s cry is strangled, raw, his body shuddering violently against yours as the final threads of his transformation weave together. His canines retract, his eyes flicker with something ancient, something eternal.
When he finally looks at you, it’s with the weight of a thousand lifetimes.
“You are mine,” he rasps, forehead pressing to yours, voice wrecked, reverent. “And I am yours.”
Tears prick at your eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of him, the depth of this. You cup his face, thumb stroking over his cheek, anchoring him, grounding yourself. “Always.”
The first true breath of your new existence fills your lungs, and as Jimin cradles you to his chest, still buried deep inside you, you realize—
You were never meant to exist without each other.
You are his.
And he is yours.
Until the sun consumes the waves.
———
“My love?”
Jimin’s voice is soft, a breath against your temple, but even that feels distant—like a melody drifting through fog. You’re floating somewhere between sleep and consciousness, your body heavy, spent, but warm. So warm.
You stir, barely, the world around you is slow to take shape.
Your body hums with the lingering echoes of what’s just transpired—the imprint of Jimin still carved into your very being. Everything aches, a deep soreness that throbs in time with your pulse. But it’s a good ache.
A satisfying one.
You try to shift, but your limbs refuse to cooperate. You’re impossibly comfortable, wrapped in the scent of him, all sea salt and musk, a soothing balm against the rawness of your senses.
Fingers gently ghost over your cheek, tracing the damp strands of hair clinging to your skin. The touch is grounding, pulling you just a little further into the waking world. Jimin tucks the stray locks behind your ear, his palm lingering at your jaw as his thumb sweeps over your cheekbone.
His touch is steady now, absent of the tremors from before, no claws, no fangs—only glistening skin and tender devotion.
When you finally crack open your eyes, everything feels impossibly heavy, but there he is. The world is soft at the edges, but your mate is all you see.
Jimin, bathed in the dim glow of the room, his skin golden in the soft light. He’s watching you, eyes tender, lips swollen from too many stolen kisses. There is no hunger now, no feverish desperation. Only warmth.
Devotion.
A slow smile tugs at his lips, melting at the corners. He dips his head, pressing a kiss to your brow, then another to the tip of your nose, before finally capturing your lips in a kiss that is soft and savoring.
“I love you,” he breathes against your mouth, voice thick with something reverent, something unshakable. “You are incredible.”
You try to respond, to return the words with just as much meaning, but your lips barely part before exhaustion pulls you under again. A whisper of sound escapes, but Jimin understands.
A low, satisfied groan rumbles in his chest as he finally pulls away, his touch lingering as he withdraws from you. The loss is immediate, the stretch of emptiness raw and aching. A soft whimper catches in your throat, but before you can mourn the absence of him, Jimin is soothing you.
“I know, sweet love,” he murmurs, lips brushing over your temple as his fingers trace lazy, reassuring circles along your hip. “I am sorry.”
The bed shifts as he moves, but before he can rise completely, you reach for him—though it’s barely more than a twitch of your fingers. Jimin catches your hand in his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before settling it over his heart.
“Rest,” he whispers. “Let me run us a bath. I shall return.”
His warmth lingers, even as he moves away. You try to follow the sound of him, the rustle of sheets, the soft pad of his feet against the floor, but sleep is a tide too strong to resist.
Before his foot even touches the ground, the world fades into quiet, dreamless bliss.
The last thing you feel is the press of his lips against your forehead, the promise of his return woven into the steady rhythm of your heartbeat.
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ijustliketoedit · 2 years ago
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ofmd bts
the flag‼️
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mmmerlenoir · 1 year ago
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cjbolan · 2 years ago
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“Originally, the plan was to use a green screen to give Darby a CGI tail. But it was costume designer Gypsy Taylor who pushed back, arguing that she and her team could build a practical tail that looked gorgeous and functioned underwater…he's a more than capable swimmer. He volunteered to film as much of the scene as he could, even if that meant learning to swim with a monofin.”
Take THAT, Disney’s live action Little Mermaid .
In all seriousness if the Emily Windsnap movies become live action, I really hope we get handmade mermaid/merman tails like this one.
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edscuntyeyeshadow · 2 years ago
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my heart is so full of love for these bitches I think I’m gonna explode
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wrensgeekyvibes · 2 years ago
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The One We've Been Waiting For
I'm sure you've all seen it, but Ed cupping Stede's face underwater is my new Roman Empire. The "see you in there, babe" is just so -sigh- They have such an amazing friendship.
But yeah, this is everything I wanted. Thanks Samba!
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sparrowmanjimin · 1 month ago
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Mermay Day 12: Redraw! ✍️
This one has been my personal favorite to draw so far. I’ve been looking forward to redrawing Merprince on a Rock, a sketch from 2023 that I made under my bed in only an hour with no references.
I went to the ocean today and got a reference from life of the merprince! Dunno why I didn’t just ask him before to sit for me. He looks so much more thoughtful while staring into the sunset than the bored expression he used to have.
I suppose it’s a reflection of my feelings toward Mermay. Last time I drew this picture, I was slightly sad that I had yet again missed out on the drawing challenge and felt left out. This year, I’m super enthusiastic and ready for each new drawing that comes to mind every day.
Happy Mermay!
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Merprince on a Rock sketch from 2023.
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Merprince on a Rock detail.
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serenashinart · 1 year ago
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Mermay VMin ✰
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irradiatedwarlock · 2 years ago
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kiwistede · 1 year ago
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Merman!Stede - thank you, Samba Schutte!! I will never be the same after this video. [IG]
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mrsvante · 3 months ago
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Waiting in the Water
pairing: jimin x oc
genre: mermaid au, strangers to lovers, angst
summary: when alma finds an injured man on the shore, she has no idea he belongs to a world beyond her own. jimin is unlike anyone she's ever met-mischievous yet gentle, with an undeniable pull that draws her in. as he helps her find joy again, she opens his eyes to the beauty of life on land, and their connection deepens into something neither of them can ignore.
but jimin's presence hasn't gone unnoticed, and forces from the sea threaten to tear them apart. with the weight of two worlds pressing down on them, alma and jimin must decide if love is enough to bridge the divide-or if some destinies can never be rewritten.
warnings: smut (these two can’t keep their hands to themselves), mentions of violence, apex predator merman jimin in action
word count: 2,241
Stormbound
Jimin presses his forehead to yours, exhaling a small huff—the same one he always does when you say his name unexpectedly, as if it still catches him off guard. As if, after hearing it every day for weeks, it somehow still flusters him.
As if having his name tied to your love is almost too much for him to bear.
Almost.
He’s been insatiable, drenching you in adoration at every opportunity, and you’re just as eager to return the sentiment.
“I smell rain on the horizon. We should go to the farmer’s market before the sky opens up.” His words are muffled against your collarbone, lips brushing lazily over your skin.
His arms tighten around your waist, holding you flush against his chest. Beneath your hands, muscle shifts like tectonic plates, the slow rise and fall of his breath syncing with yours in a quiet rhythm.
You hum in response, content to remain tangled in his embrace, but the rational part of your brain reminds you how low on groceries the house is.
“Yeah, we should,” you murmur, though your leg drapes over his hip, arching into the hardness pressing against your thigh. “But I don’t know if I can walk.” Your sigh is laced with teasing, lips twisting into a coy pout.
Jimin lifts his head, pearl gray eyes smoldering as he presses open mouthed kisses down your sternum, humming in satisfaction when your breath hitches.
His mouth finds a sensitive peak, sucking just enough to send a shudder rolling down your spine.
“I am sorry, mate,” he growls against your skin, voice thick with want. “You are irrefutably irresistible and intoxicating—I find myself helplessly ensnared, lost to the addiction that festered from the moment I laid eyes on you.”
His lips wrap around your other nipple, tongue flicking over the pebbled bud before his teeth scrape against the plush curve of your breast. He soothes the bite with a gentle suck, his mark blooming in deep reds and purples.
You manage a breathless chuckle. “You growled at me. Hissed at me. Nearly ripped my arm off.”
Jimin pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, a devilish smirk tugging at his lips. “Am I not paying for my transgressions now, my love?” His fingers trace lazy circles along your thigh before gripping it, pulling you open beneath him. “Or do you require a more extravagant form of redress?”
Whatever response you might’ve had dies on your tongue, lost beneath the pleasure curling through your body as he begins his slow descent.
Jimin marks his path with lips, teeth, and tongue, a worshiper at the altar of your body, until he’s settled between your thighs. He presses soft kisses along your inner thighs, savoring the way they tremble beneath his touch.
Then, as if answering a silent prayer, he drags his tongue over your glistening sex, slow and deliberate.
Your head falls back against the pillows, a sharp cry slipping free as your fingers tangle in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. He groans at the sting, the vibration against your sensitive flesh making your thighs twitch around his head.
But just as quickly as he started, he stops.
You whimper in frustration, feeling the warmth of his breath ghosting over your slick heat, teasing and tormenting in equal measure.
“Jimin, please—”
A gasp rips from your throat as his lips finally—finally—seal around your clit, sucking just hard enough to send your hips arching off the bed.
“You do not beg, my sweet love,” he murmurs, voice dark and reverent. “I will give you everything.” His tongue traces slow, agonizing circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves, pulling another sharp whine from your lips. “But I require your eyes.”
You force yourself to open them, vision blurring slightly as you meet the molten silver of his gaze. His pupils are blown wide, hunger pooling in their depths.
“I want you to watch as I make my amends.”
Then, without another word, he buries himself between your thighs, tongue slipping inside you in deep, deliberate strokes.
A strangled moan catches in your throat as he fucks you with his tongue, the sensation both maddening and euphoric. He withdraws briefly, dragging your wetness up with a long, flat lick before flicking over your clit, sucking it into his mouth and rolling it with his tongue.
Your legs shake against his shoulders, body tensing and relaxing with every expert pass of his mouth. He doesn’t rush—he takes his time, savoring you like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.
“Truly the taste of the divine, sweet Alma,” he purrs, the words vibrating against your heat.
You can’t stop the moans spilling from your lips, the pleasure he’s building inside you growing unbearable. He winds you tighter and tighter, pushing you to the edge—only to pull you back before you can fall.
It’s torture. It’s bliss. It’s driving you out of your mind.
“Mate.” Your voice is a fragile whisper, unsteady and pleading.
Jimin stills, lifting his head just enough to meet your gaze once more. His lips, cheeks, and nose glisten with your arousal, but his eyes are soft with unguarded devotion.
“Say it again, Alma.” He presses a kiss to your trembling thigh. “Say it.”
“M-Mate,” you whimper, your voice cracking. “Mate, mate—”
Your breath stutters as he resumes his ministrations, licking into you with renewed hunger.
“I need to cum,” you gasp, hands fisting the sheets. “Jimin, please—I can’t take any more.” Your voice is so wrecked, so utterly desperate, that even you barely recognize it. “I think I’m gonna die.”
His answering chuckle is low and dark. “I would never allow it.”
Then, with a final, devastating stroke, he pushes two fingers inside you, curling them against the spot that has you seeing stars.
The coil in your belly snaps, a violent wave of pleasure crashing over you as you arch off the bed with a broken cry.
Jimin watches in awe as you shatter, his name falling from your lips in a wrecked chant. His fingers stroke you through it, milking every last drop of pleasure from your trembling form.
Then he stills, tilting his head as he watches you, mesmerized.
“Goddess, you’re divine.” His voice is thick with love as he traces slow circles over your slick, swollen heat, watching your body jerk with every aftershock.
You barely register his words, still floating somewhere between heaven and earth, lost in the afterglow.
But when he leans in again, pressing a kiss to your overstimulated clit, you know one thing for certain.
He’s nowhere near finished with you.
———
The crash of waves against the shore lulled you into a deep sleep, exhaustion still clinging to your limbs after an early morning tangled in satin sheets and Jimin’s embrace. The memory of his hands and mouth, his voice like velvet whispering your name, flickered in the back of your mind even as your body surrendered to rest.
Jimin watched you for a moment, studying the way your lashes fluttered softly against your cheeks, the way your lips remained slightly parted, breath warm against the pillow. He should’ve felt remorse for keeping you from much needed sleep, for indulging in the hunger that never seemed to wane when it came to you. But the sounds he’d drawn from you, the way your body had trembled in his grasp, made guilt an impossibility.
Pressing a lingering kiss to your temple, then your cheek, he carefully brushed a few stray strands of hair from your face before slipping out of bed. His movements were near silent as he dressed, shrugging into a coat before making his way downstairs.
It had taken time, patience, and more than a few incidents of near disaster, but Jimin no longer feared the mechanical beast that was your truck. The first time he’d attempted to maneuver it, you had clutched the dashboard with a white-knuckled grip, issuing half panicked instructions while he wrestled with the unfamiliar controls.
But now, only weeks into your mating, he had taken it upon himself to be a dependable partner in ways that extended beyond the warmth of your bed.
He had always been a hunter, a provider—but on land, provision took a different form.
You had been teaching him your ways long before the binding of your souls, showing him how to navigate the kitchen, how to season a dish with precision and care, how to keep the home you now shared running smoothly. But there was more to learn. More he wanted to learn.
And he was starting to appreciate this life beyond the waves, despite its many peculiarities.
There were no rival predators lurking in the depths, no endless battles for territory and survival. Life here was, in some ways, far simpler.
Though, there was one creature on land he considered a threat.
Jimin’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as he thought of the male vendor at the farmer’s market. The one whose gaze lingered on you a little too long, whose eyes trailed your form with a kind of appreciation that made Jimin’s hackles rise. He may not bare his fangs in warning like he once would have, but the primal instinct remained. A silent, unwavering promise that you were claimed.
A low rumble of thunder echoed in the distance, too faint for human ears to catch. Jimin exhaled through his nose, pressing his foot to the pedal, eager to return before the storm broke. The roads were mostly empty, a rare blessing, allowing him to relax into the drive.
This, too, was becoming familiar.
This dangerous machine beneath his hands, the rush of wind through the cracked window, the purr of the engine under his command.
Maybe he didn’t fear the truck anymore, but he’d yet to decide if he liked it.
———
The first thing that woke you was the absence of his warmth.
The second was the rain, a heavy downpour against the balcony doors, the sky a tumultuous canvas of gray and black. You stirred beneath the sheets, reaching instinctively for Jimin, but your hand met only cool linens.
“Jimin?”
Your voice was hoarse from sleep, the memory of his touch still ghosting over your skin. You sat up, rubbing at your eyes before swinging your legs over the side of the bed. A chill ran down your spine as your bare feet met the cool wooden floor, but it wasn’t from the temperature alone.
Something felt…off.
You slipped into your robe and made your way downstairs, heart thrumming a little faster than it should. The great room was empty, the kitchen pristine, not a single dish out of place. The sitting room was just as you’d left it.
A gnawing unease settled in your ribs.
Your gaze flickered toward the front window, the rain thick as a curtain, obscuring your view of the outside world. Your stomach twisted as your mind conjured a thought you didn’t want to entertain.
Had he gone back to the sea?
Back to the brother he had left behind?
The idea gripped you with a quiet, inexplicable dread. You had never once asked him to choose between his old life and the one he was building with you, but the fear of losing him—to the ocean, to the pull of the world he once belonged to—was enough to leave you breathless.
You tore your gaze from the storm and turned toward the stairs, deciding a bath might calm you, might keep you from spiraling into thoughts that had no place here. But as you moved to leave, something caught your eye.
A small, unassuming recipe card lay on the entryway table.
You stepped closer, fingers shaking as you picked it up. The writing was hurried, but unmistakably his.
Jimin had gone to the farmer’s market. Alone.
Your breath hitched.
It was his first time venturing out without you. His first time driving alone. He should’ve woken you. You should’ve been with him.
A crash.
Your body jolted, muscles locking as the sharp sound of shattering glass echoed through the house.
Your pulse hammered against your ribs.
Jimin?
No.
Common sense told you to grab the bat beside the front door. Instinct screamed at you to run. But curiosity—stupid, reckless curiosity—urged you forward.
You moved swiftly, fingers curling tightly around the metal handle, the weight of it grounding you. The shadows became your ally as you slunk through the house, pressing yourself against the walls, every breath measured, every step calculated.
Your heart pounded in your ears as hushed voices carried through the storm.
Near the back patio doors.
Not Jimin.
You flattened yourself against the wall, gripping the bat until your knuckles turned white. Every part of you begged for stillness, for silence, but the moment you steeled yourself to move—
The front door exploded.
A blur of movement tore past you, a whirlwind of fury and vengeance, barreling straight through the house and into the intruder with terrifying force.
Jimin.
His fangs were bared, his claws unsheathed, a guttural hiss rattling through the air as he tackled the figure through the patio doors. Glass rained down in shards, the storm swallowing them both as they crashed into the night.
You barely had time to process what had happened, barely had time to breathe before another shadow moved in your periphery.
Another intruder.
Your grip tightened.
Your feet braced.
Lightning split the sky, illuminating the figure advancing toward you.
And then you swung.
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lizluzz · 1 year ago
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Samba singlehandedly making ofmd trend again
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therosesbud · 10 months ago
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2024 vs 2021 MerMin 💕
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mororuart · 2 years ago
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stankris · 1 year ago
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin Characters: Park Jimin (BTS), Jeon Jungkook, Kim Namjoon | RM, Kim Seokjin | Jin, Min Yoongi | Suga, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Kim Taehyung | V Additional Tags: mermaid au, Merman Jimin, Human Jeon Jungkook, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Season, Fluff and Humor, Smut Summary:
Mating season is tough as a gay merman with a limited dating pool.
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