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yaespook · 6 months

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Warmth Ensnared.

✧ Room Content: Dom! Top! GN! AMAB! Reader x Yan! Selkie! Sub! Bottom! Neuvillette, unhealthy obsessive and possessive relationship from Neuvillette, inexperienced virgin Neuvillette, blowjob (Neuvillette giving), mentions of marking and biting. Leave a note if anything was missed out. ✧ Retrieved Notes: [The torso and right paw of the fortune cat appear on the front desk.]

The heavens weep their cold tears as you make your way down the coastline, an umbrella in hand. The raindrop pelts harshly against the cheap plastic of your umbrella as the moonlight weakly lights the path ahead of you from behind the clouds.

You’re not quite sure what compelled you to venture out in such heavy rain or what keeps you from turning around and walking home but when you see the unfortunate sight a couple steps before you, perhaps it was a good idea you came out after all.

Frustrated growls and gruff barks reach your ears as a large seal thrashes around on the shore, struggling to free itself from the net that ensnares its flippers and tail. Its efforts are in vain as it seemingly tangles itself more and more in the net with every movement, its vocalisations growing increasingly distressed.

You rush over, determined to free the poor seal. Sensing a potential threat, the seal looks straight at you approaching amidst its struggle and tries to shuffle away, frightened.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, I’m trying to help you out.” Your words seem to soothe as it cautiously observes you when you slowly move in closer, making no attempts to try to attack you. While you try to work its flippers out of the net, you realise that the earlier thrashing had complicated the entanglement, resulting in multiple knots and loops that are too hard to undo with one hand.

Sighing, you set your umbrella aside to free up your other hand, angling it and propping it up in the wet sand so as to block as much of the rain as possible. Despite your umbrella, the chilling rain gradually starts to seep through your clothes as you aid the seal. It eyes you curiously, surprisingly calm, even going so far as to lifting the flipper you’re working the net off of.

Now that you’re a lot closer, you also take the time to examine the seal for any other injuries. Its fur is a shade of silvery grey, with some symmetrical markings or patterns on its belly that almost glow in the dim moonlight.

After a couple minutes, the seal is freed from the net entirely and you bundle the fabric in your arm to dispose of properly later, your other hand holding your umbrella again. Standing, you watch on as it hurries to the shoreline and ventures beyond the waves, going back to its watery habitat. Swimming further out, the seal suddenly stops and turns back to stare at you for a second. Then, it nods towards you, as if thanking you for your help before quickly diving underwater.

Assured that the seal is safe now, you turn and begin to head back home. Although you’re soaked to the bone, a pleasant emotion arises in you from your good deed and the supposed show of gratitude you received in the end. And maybe the heavens are smiling upon you! The downpour immediately starts to clear up, the rain clouds dissipating from the sky, revealing the moon hiding behind them and lighting your way home.

(Unbeknownst to you, a sharp pair of pale lavender eyes emerge from the depths, eyeing you as you leave.)

The next time you find yourself strolling along the beach, the evening sky is mostly clear, save for a few heavy rain clouds that look to be gathering at the edge of the horizon, slowly rolling in. You recall the seal from before and there’s an unexplainable tugging to go back to that location, even though you’re not exactly sure what you hope to find.

After that night, you’ve looked for information regarding seals congregating along that coast but unable to find any records or news about seals in your local natural ecosystem, you dismissed it as some sort of cosmic coincidence that your walk would end with you freeing a seal.

The seal would be nice to see once more though what you actually do see instead is a little stranger than anything you were expecting.

There’s an odd person loitering near the water where you freed the seal. Bizarrely enough, he’s donning a sopping wet yet extravagant fur coat. Water drips from his long hair however, he doesn’t seem to mind it at all. He’s incredibly out of place but his face doesn’t show it, even as you try your best not to stare. Rather, he opens his mouth to ask, (you get a flash of fangs), his voice a soothing timbre.

“Apologies. I'm new around here and I seem to have gotten lost. May I trouble you for directions?”

A couple questions zip around in your head: How did he end up at the beach? Did he go swimming in his fur coat? Is he not cold? Realising that you’ve been staring at his fur coat all this time and not speaking, you awkwardly clear your throat and ultimately settle with saying, “I think we'd better dry you off first before you catch a cold.”

Thankfully, there’re still cafes open along the more crowded area of the beach. After getting him a hot drink of his choice to warm himself up (an order for a cup of hot water definitely raised some eyebrows), you ask him to stay put before going to fetch a couple towels from a nearby beach kiosk for him to dry off.

“Thank you for all the help you have extended to me despite this being your first time meeting me,” he says, his tone sincere as he dries his hair, having finished his cup of water.

“It’s no problem really, I’m pretty sure most would’ve helped you out too. How did you end up so soaked in the first place?”

“Ah, it’s a bit much to talk about-” he cuts himself off, “-Where are my manners, I have not introduced myself yet. I am Neuvillette.” A quick handshake, introductions and small talk exchanged, a friend gained.

The two of you talk until you’re ushered out by the cafe staff and agree to meet again next week at this cafe to spend more time together.

You find yourself looking forward to the days with Neuvillette, no matter the activity. (Strangely, on the days you’re unable to meet up with Neuvillette, the weather forecast never matches up, the skies always overcast with dark clouds.)

An additional fun treat is that every time the both of you meet, he never fails to regale you with fantastical tales, with myths and legends from the unfathomable depths of merfolk and sea monsters, each tale more and more outlandish and wondrous than the last. The details that he injects to his stories are so intricate that you’d almost believe he was recounting them from personal experience itself.

The agenda for today’s hangout: Bring him around the local aquarium! A leisurely stroll whilst admiring the sealife, listening to his informative explanations on how the marine ecosystem functions, how everything has a crucial part to play in it. But your day gets a lot better when your Neuvie mysteriously draws the attention of the seals when the both of you walk past them. The lovable blobs bounce up to him, as near as possible, gleefully barking away, trying to get his attention.

You laugh as you watch on at the display, “Looks like I’ve managed to catch myself a seal prince!”

His face heats up at your remark, a light hue of pink dusting his cheeks at the commotion from the seals. He musters up a weak chuckle as he meets your eyes.

“And perhaps you have.”

The seals glance between the two of you and somehow manage to bark even louder, some even clapping their flippers against their bodies. Once you’ve decided that it was enough embarrassment for your poor Neuvie, taking his hand in yours, you lead him off to the next section of the aquarium. Your hand brushes against the sleeves of his fur coat that he constantly wears. (His fingers entwine with yours, his grip secure.)

By the time you finish touring the entire aquarium, it’s the late evening, the street lights already lit as the dinner crowd mills about for a place to dine in.

Over the course of dinner, he sneaks little glances at you between bites of his food, smiling slightly when you catch him red-handed but never saying what’s on his mind. It’s only when the two of you are walking out of the restaurant, he works up the nerve to ask.

“We have been seeing each other for some time now, and I hope that I am not overstepping to suggest,” his cheeks flush, “that perhaps we could take this to another level…”

His breath catches when he feels your hand finding his as you say, “My place then?”

The instant you lead him into your home and room, you press your lips against his and revel in the small clipped moan you manage to drag out of him. Neuviellette doesn’t seem to be experienced, given the sloppy way he kisses you back and how you can feel him beginning to grind against your thigh between his legs. When you pull away, he’s panting, pupils dilated as he chases after you.

“Your first time, Neuvie?”

“Ah. Yes… my deepest apologies if I do not manage to satisf-” You stop him before he can finish his sentence, shushing him with a quick kiss.

“Shush, Neuvie, it’s nothing to apologise for. If anything, I’m honoured to be your first,” you tuck a hair behind his ear, leaning in to whisper, your tone teasing, “In fact, I think teaching you allll about it might just be even better ♡”

Soon, you have him knelt between your legs as you sit on the edge of the bed, guiding your cock to his lips.

“Watch your fangs now, Neuvie.”

He flicks his tongue out, swirling it around the head, licking at it before his lips close around your tip. True to your words, he’s careful about his fangs as slowly, he takes you into his mouth. A low groan filters through the air when you feel his tongue press up against the underside of your length.

“Ngh, that’s great, Neuvie…” Your hand caresses the side of his face, his skin warm where you touched, “So good at this already.”

The sight of him peering up at you from his spot, how he’s engulfed your every inch (does he not have a gag reflex?), his eyes slowly glazing over, it sends lust coursing through your veins. He’s so perfect for you.

“Do you think you could move?” Neuvillette hums in agreement, the vibrations stimulating as he starts bobbing his head, obedient as he even tries to occasionally swallow around you when you hit the back of his throat. The wet sounds of slurping only serve to arouse you even further, joined by the moans Neuvillette lets out, as if savouring the taste of you.

“Ah! L-Let me pull out Neuvie-?!” At your words, his hands suddenly clamp tightly onto your thighs before he takes you as far as he can, sucking hard as he feels your cock twitch on his tongue.

It’s not long before you cum, spurting your load down his throat that he devours eagerly, moaning at the taste. When he frees you from his mouth with a lewd “pop!”, his tongue lolls out, showing that he really did swallow everything you gave him.

Cupping his face in your hands, you bring him up to lock lips with him, making out fiercely, more tongue than anything.

“So greedy, Neuvie, why didn’t you let me pull out?” He just gives you a light ditzy chuckle before ducking back in for another kiss, unable to be separated from you. You drink in all his muffled noises, your hands roving over his body as he indulges himself in your warmth, your everything.

And you’re so caring too, taking the time to constantly check in on him as you thoroughly prep him so his first time wouldn’t hurt. Your fingers coated in lube, you gingerly work him open as he lets out unrestrained whines. A keen rips from him when the tip of your finger bumps against his prostate, the unfamiliar pleasure a very welcome one.

You treat him so well, how could he not be drunk on your love?

“Tell me everything you feel Neuvie,” your tip breaches his rim and it has him seeing stars behind his closed eyes.

“Hah! So good-!” He’s embraced in your arms, his heaving chest against yours as his heart races at the ecstasy you’re granting him. Inch by inch, you sink into his hole. Your skin is sticky against his and he presses himself onto your body, wanting to feel all of you. His breath comes out in pants as you reach deeper into him, your cock filling him up even more.

“Look at you, Neuvie, such a treasure.” Your praise pushes him closer to his tipping point. And when you graze past his prostate, his vision whites out instantly.

“Hgnk! Cumming- AH!” Clinging onto you even tighter, his cum splatters onto his skin and yours, unconsciously grinding your cock deeper into him as he rides out his high. He collapses against you, burying into the crook of your neck when he feels you press a kiss to the top of his head and smile.

Neuvillette has always been so used to the indifferent coldness of the open ocean, the unyielding pressure beneath the waves. But you’ve changed him, he’s addicted to the warmth you’ve shown to him ever since your first fated meeting. (Never mind that you still don’t know that the seal you rescued was him, you will understand in due time.)

Now that he’s with you, swapping fur for skin, trading water for land, the happiness he feels when he’s yours is incomparable. He’s become enamoured with all of you. He’d give up anything else to stay by your side like this forever. Anything to be with you.

The next morning, Neuvillette is rather lively but you chalk it up to the intimate session last night. It was his first time after all, and you’re just glad that he seemed to enjoy it. But he’s a lot clingier with the way he has to be near you at all times, be it wordlessly tailing you around your home or sitting next to you whenever.

As the both of you cuddle, still too lazy to get started with the day since you’re entangled in each other, he suddenly peels himself off of you. Neuvillette sheds his fur coat, folding it neatly, then presenting it to you.

“I want you to have this,” there’s a jovial lilt in his voice, almost akin to a seal’s chirp, “Do you accept it?”

“Are you sure? You wear this everywhere and it’s probably important to you, I couldn’t take it.” Neuvillette shakes his head, firm in his stance.

“I insist you have it. It is important, but,” he looks into your eyes, in them, a raw frenzied sincerity swirls like whirlpools, “That’s why I want you to have it.”

“When you put it that way,” you take the coat from him, experimentally draping it over yourself, sighing when you realise truly how soft it is.

“Thank you Neuvie.” The tender moment is broken when he leans in, ensnaring you in a ravenous kiss. Darting your tongue into his mouth, he’s no longer shy like yesterday, letting out needy whimpers as he deepens the kiss.

“You didn’t, hah, finish in me last night, my love,” he huffs during stolen breaths in between kisses, “You need to. Pleasepleaseplease!”

He’s dragging you back into your room and soon enough, you have him under you, the fur coat draped on your back as you rut into him. His walls clench down on your shaft, his legs locking around your hips to make sure you don’t pull out of him when you climax.

A dizzying mixture of mania and desire floods through his system when you suck a hickey onto his pristine skin. He feels your scorching breath fan across his collarbone and when your lips make contact with his skin, he jolts, aware of every pleasurable sensation you’re flooding him with right now.

And it’s only fair if he gets you to mark you too. Claiming you as his other half, his destined partner. Sharp teeth pierce and break past your skin as Neuvillette bites down on your shoulder.

He recalls his moments with you: How you miraculously showed up in his time of need. Helping him time and time again. The other seals rowdily congratulating their prince on finding a mate. And finally, how you accepted his pelt.

How you accepted him.

He laps at the bitemark when he detaches, a sense of fulfilment bubbling up in him. A particularly deep grind drags him out of his thoughts, an unabashed moan escaping him.

“Thinking about something else, while- ah! -I’m here fucking you?”

“N-No! Only thinking- ghk?! -of, of you! Only y-you!” Neuvillette blubbers out, sensing every movement of your dick in him.

“I’m close! Going to- hnn! -cum!” Hearing your words, his words tumble out of his mouth unintelligibly.

“In me! Hah- ah! Cum in me! Please, love! In me- need it, need you-!!”

Pressing your hips into his, you finish in him as per his request, his legs looping around you even tighter, forcing you to reach further in him.

The stretch drives Neuvillette wild and when he feels the warm bliss spreading in him, his eyes roll into his skull and he throws his head back, letting out an animalistic growl as he cums.

"I love you I love you I love you I love you!"

Later, when you’ve wiped the both of you down, the cuddling resumes. Cracking an eye open, you see Neuvillette snuggling into the fur coat.

“See, you’re still attached. I couldn’t take it.”

“No, no, my love. You’ve already taken it.” He flips over to face you, “Do you know the ‘legend’ of selkies, my love?”

At the shake of your head, he begins to speak. You listen as he recounts the tale, how important their sealskin is to them, the symbolism of owning a selkie’s precious pelt.

His voice is otherworldly, mesmerising, as if it were the gentle lull of a fishing boat on the water.

“The tales usually spell the misery of a selkie who has had their pelt taken forcibly against their will. I’ve seen it happen to my subjects in the past. But I am fortunate.”

…His subjects?

When your eyes open again, (you didn't even know they closed in the first place), a selkie lays before you. His fur is a shade of silvery grey, with some symmetrical markings or patterns on his belly that almost glow. His webbed hand tipped with claws captures yours. His eyes are brine pools and his fangs are trident-sharp when he speaks.

And he says.

”So take me, and I'll give all of myself up for you.”

[> You add a fur pelt to your collection.]

Thank you kindly for reading. Consider supporting on kofi if you enjoyed this or visit the other doors.

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hamsterclaw · 10 months

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Legend

The man you help one day insists that he owes you everything.

Pairing: Jungkook x F! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Selkie! JK, smut, angst

Word count: 10.6k

Warnings: Sex, swearing, knotting

It’s early, but you prefer walking along the beach when there are less people. The sun’s up, barely, there’s a light salty breeze blowing your hair in your face and there’s movement out of the corner of your eye.

Three men fighting over what seems to be – a fur coat?

You don’t want to get involved but two of the men are fully dressed and the other one is naked so it seems unfair that the pair are trying to take the fur coat off him.

‘Hey!’ you shout, before you can talk yourself out of it. ‘Back off!’

You wave your phone. ‘I’m calling the police!’

The two men exchange a look and shove the naked man into the sand. Then they’re off.

You approach the naked man warily. ‘Are you ok?’

He looks up at you, dark hair in his face, almost covering his eyes. He’s slim but there’s bulk to his shoulders and arms, a ridge of muscle along his abs.

He gets up suddenly, overbalances, and you take a step back so he doesn’t fall into you.

The fur coat’s back on his shoulders, you’re glad for him given, judging by his bare legs under the hem of the coat, he’s stark naked otherwise.

‘Thank you,’ he says. ‘For helping me.’

‘Don’t worry,’ you say. You smile and move past him to continue your walk.

He says, ‘I owe you everything.’

His words make you turn back, slightly nervous at the seriousness of his tone.

‘You’ve very welcome,’ you say, ‘I didn’t really do anything.’

You’re a few metres down the beach when you realise he’s trailing behind you.

‘I have to return your kindness,’ he says, when you stop dead and turn around to look him fully in the face.

Shit. What is this guy on?

‘You can return it by living your life,�� you say, nodding encouragingly. ‘Away from me.’

He considers this carefully. ‘Do you feel threatened by me?’ he asks, keeping his distance.

You eyeball him from the top of his mussed hair, to the ridiculous fur coat he’s got on in the middle of summer, to his bare feet, and can honestly say that you don’t.

‘You don’t owe me anything,’ you insist.

‘Can I try to repay you?’ he asks. He pushes his hair away from his face, like seeing more of him will change your mind.

He’s got an interesting face, wide eyes, beautiful skin, a mole under his bottom lip that draws your gaze.

You sigh. ‘Can you do yard work?’

***

Half an hour later your new acquaintance is standing beside you, regarding the mess that was your grandmother’s yard quizzically.

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ you say. ‘This isn’t worth it. You’re free to go, you don’t have to help me with this.’

‘That’s not what I was thinking,’ he says. He looks at you worriedly. ‘How would you have done this alone?’

‘It would have taken me longer without your help,’ you allow.

‘Your hands are small,’ he says, critically, brows furrowed. ‘And your arms —’

‘And you’re wearing a fur coat in summer, there’s no judgement here,’ you interrupt, raising an eyebrow at him.

‘It’s a pelt,’ he tells you, huffy.

‘There’s probably something up in the loft that’ll fit you,’ you say. ‘Stay here. I’ll go up.’

When you get back down to the yard, you’re greeted by the twin mounds of his very firm buttocks.

‘Holy shit. Get some clothes on,’ you say, turning your eyes up hurriedly as he approaches you.

‘I see people on the beach wearing tiny clothes that don’t cover much more than this,’ he tells you.

‘Well you’re not on the beach, you’re in my yard. And in this house we wear clothes,’ you retort.

You shove the bundle of clothes you’ve found into his chest, and turn your back as he gets dressed.

When you look around again, thankfully, he’s decent.

Your grandfather’s clothes are a size too large but it’s probably just as well given your new friend’s penchant for getting naked at the slightest opportunity.

‘Just to be clear,’ you clarify. ‘This isn’t indentured servitude just because I helped you this morning. You can go whenever you want, ok? You don’t owe me a thing.’

‘I owe you everything,’ he says solemnly.

‘Are you even listening,’ you grumble.

You decide you’ve spent enough time arguing with him. He looks strong, and willing, and the yard isn’t going to clear itself.

He works hard, genuinely like he believes he owes you something for scaring those guys off, carrying the weeds you clear out to the bins, seemingly tireless.

By lunchtime you’ve made decent headway. You get up, ignoring the way your knees protest after kneeling in the dirt for so long, and say, ‘come in, let’s take a break.’

‘I don’t need a break,’ he tells you earnestly. ‘I’ll help you finish this.’

You furrow your brow at him. ‘We’re not carrying on unless you eat something —‘

You realise you don’t know his name.

‘Jungkook,’ he supplies helpfully, ‘of the Jeon clan.’

You stare at him. ‘I’m Y/N L/N.’

‘Clanless,’ he murmurs to himself, nodding like that explains things.

You frown. ‘We don’t have clans where I come from,’ you start, and then you close your mouth. Why are you arguing with this dude?

‘Fine, Jungkook, let’s have lunch.’

***

For someone who didn’t want to take a break, Jungkook sure seems hungry.

You watch, bemused, as he wolfs down his sandwich and salad.

‘More?’ you ask, holding out half of your own sandwich.

He accepts, and the sandwich disappears in three quick bites.

When he’s finally satiated, you go back outside and get back to work.

The sun is starting to drop when you turn to him a little awkwardly.

‘Hey, Jungkook. Thanks so much for your help today. It would have taken me ages to do this myself.’

He looks at you seriously. ‘You shouldn’t be doing this yourself.’

‘Yeah well, I’m clanless remember?’ you say, jokingly.

He shakes his head. ‘You need help.’

‘You’re not the first person to tell me that,’ you offer.

Jungkook’s unamused.

‘I’ll help you,’ he says, like that decides it.

You want to keep arguing but you’re tired, and it’s late, and he does good work.

‘I’ll be back in the morning,’ Jungkook says. He’s got redressed in his pelt, placed the folded clothes you loaned him neatly on the porch.

You open your mouth and shut it again, and Jungkook takes this as assent.

‘Wait,’ you say, as he walks away.

He turns back to you, and there’s something about the way his profile looks in the fading light that makes your heart beat a little faster.

He’s beautiful.

‘What do you want for breakfast?’ you ask.

He turns fully to face you, eyes crinkled in a smile. ‘You don’t have to feed me. I’m the one who owes you, remember?’

‘You honestly don’t—‘

You stop talking when you realise he’s too far away to hear you anyway.

***

The next morning, you’re awakened by noises coming from the back garden. You stumble to the window and are greeted by your new friend Jungkook’s shirtless back.

His muscles ripple in the sunlight, and he’s already worked up a sweat somehow.

You lift up the sash window, and he turns at the sound.

His face lights up at the sight of you, and you’d be lying if you said the sight doesn’t make you feel a little giddy.

‘What –’

Your voice comes out as a croak, so you clear your throat and start again.

‘What do you want for breakfast?’

‘Surprise me,’ he says cheerfully.

He turns back to the thatch of brambles he’s hacking through.

‘Hey,’ you call again.

You swipe a hand over your dressing table, grab the sunscreen you apply religiously.

You toss it out the window, at his feet.

‘Put sunscreen on.’

Jungkook picks it up like he’s unaware of the concept of sun protection.

‘Can you show me how to use this?’ he asks.

He’s looking at you quizzically, all bare chest and gleaming skin, and you back away from the window before you say something you’ll live to regret.

You’ve got breakfast in the pan on your grandmother’s old Aga when Jungkook pops his head in the back door.

‘It’s hot today,’ he says.

‘You look hot,’ you agree.

Then you realise what you’ve said.

Thankfully, Jungkook seems to have missed it completely, walking into your kitchen, looking around curiously.

He stops in front of a painting on the wall of a lighthouse by the sea.

‘This looks like it was painted around here,’ he says. ‘I’ve been past this lighthouse.’

‘Would you like the painting?’ you offer.

At his surprised look, you hasten to explain.

‘I live in the city. I came here because I inherited this house from my grandmother after she died.’

You wave a hand. ‘I’ve got to pack up her things, get rid of what I can, and then sell this place.’

‘If you like the painting then please take it,’ you say. ‘It’s got no sentimental value to it.’’

‘I don’t have a lot of things,’ Jungkook replies.

He watches as you serve up two plates, lay the table.

He takes a seat opposite you.

There’s silence for a bit as you both eat, then Jungkook asks, ‘Isn’t there someone who can help you? It seems a big job.’

‘My parents live abroad,’ you tell him. ‘I don’t have any siblings. Just me.’

‘Your mate?’ Jungkook suggests, around a mouthful of eggs.

You nearly choke on your coffee. ‘I don’t have a – mate, at least not in the sense you mean. I have friends, and they’re stopping by in a few weeks.’

You shrug. ‘It’s quite a personal job. I want to make sure my grandmother’s things are handled properly.’

You look out the window. Sitting, like this, you can’t see the sea, but if you were to stand, you could see the ocean from every window of this cottage.

‘I used to spend my summers here, with her,’ you tell Jungkook.

‘I’ve lived here my whole life,’ Jungkook says.

You exchange a smile.

‘I can help you, with anything you want,’ Jungkook tells you earnestly.

You look at him for a long moment. ‘I can pay you.’

Jungkook almost looks offended. ‘I told you I owe you for helping me,’ he insists.

‘You don’t owe me a thing.’

‘I owe you everything,’ he says again, so firmly you don’t have the heart to argue it.

You get up. ‘I need to stop by the store and get more supplies this morning.’

Jungkook says, ‘I can get the brambles cleared today.’

You hesitate, then decide to ask. ‘Do you want anything from the store? Is there anything you like to eat?’

Jungkook’s smile is shy, a contrast from the fact that he’s parading around shirtless.

‘I eat anything,’ he tells you, but you get the sense he appreciates that you asked.

He’s turning to go back into your garden when you stop him.

‘You should put sun protection on,’ you tell him.

You squeeze sunscreen onto your palm, show him how to rub it in.

‘On my back, too?’ Jungkook asks, once he’s covered his face.

You look at him carefully, trying to gauge how serious he is.

‘Yes, on your chest too.’

Your voice comes out unusually high-pitched, and Jungkook gives you a funny look as he rubs suncreen into his chest.

You’re trying not to stare at him, acting like it’s the first time you’ve noticed the glorious sea view outside.

‘Can you help me with my back?’ Jungkook asks.

‘Sure,’ you say, gulping a little.

You dot sunscreen on your palm, start rubbing it into his shoulders. His defined back muscles flex under your hands as you rub more cream in.

Jungkook looks down at the waistband of your grandfather’s shorts thoughtfully, and you toss the sunscreen on the table, grab the keys hurriedly.

‘I’ll get you a hat, too,’ you call as you practically run out the front door.

‘See you later Jungkook!’

***

The line at the store’s longer than you expected, you’re looking around for the shortest queue when you spot him.

‘Y/N!’

‘Namjoon!’

You step into Namjoon’s hug. He’s always been taller than you but in recent years his build has filled out. You can barely get your arms around him now.

‘I heard you were back,’ he says, smiling at you, friendly. Just for a moment, a shadow crosses his face.

‘I’m sorry about your grandma,’ he says.

‘Thank you,’ you reply. You pull your arms down, clasp your hands awkwardly together.

‘I’m clearing out her old things,’ you tell him.

‘Need a hand?’

‘I’ve got someone helping me,’ you say.

Seeing the change in Namjoon’s expression, you hasten to explain.

‘I met him yesterday,’ you say. ‘Some guys were hassling him on the beach. He was grateful so he’s helping me clear out the yard.’

Namjoon frowns. He’s one of your childhood friends, you used to look forward to seeing him in the summer.

‘Is he an ok guy?’

‘He seems perfectly nice,’ you say. ‘He doesnt seem like a creep or anything.’

‘Well, you can always call me if you need anything, ok? Maybe we can grab dinner one of these days.’

‘I’d like that,’ you say.

Namjoon dimples at you. ‘Maybe this weekend?’

‘Sure,’ you agree.

You pay for your things, load up your car and, on impulse, pick up ice cream for you and Jungkook on the way back.

You’re holding your cups of ice-cream carefully, walking around the side of the house to the back, when you hear voices.

You feel a twinge of alarm as you round the corner to see Jungkook and another man you don’t know having what seems to be a heated conversation.

‘Jungkook?’ you call.

The man you don’t know turns and gives you a long look.

It doesn’t seem friendly.

You’re suddenly aware that you don’t know Jungkook well, you don’t know this man at all, and your nearest neighbour is over a mile away.

Jungkook steps forward, like he senses your apprehension. ‘This is Jimin,’ he tells you. ‘He’s part of my clan.’

Jimin gives you another searching look, but he eventually says, ‘Hi.’

Alarm bells are going off in your head.

You take a step back.

‘My friend Namjoon’s coming over,’ you tell Jungkook and Jimin.

It’s a complete lie, but it’s all you have.

Jungkook says, very gently, ‘Jimin’s leaving. He just came to see where I was.’

You take another step back, ice-cream forgotten.

‘Sure,’ you say. You’re trying your best to sound normal, past the rising panic.

You turn and head back to your car.

It’s only after the car door is closed behind you that you finally feel like you can draw a breath.

The rapping on the window makes you scream.

It takes you a moment to realise it’s Jungkook, another moment to notice that he’s chosen the passenger seat window to knock on even though you’re in the driver’s seat.

Like he wanted to give you distance.

You lower the window.

‘I didn’t mean to scare you,’ he starts, and he sounds so genuinely upset about it that it goes a long way towards assuaging your fears.

‘No, I —‘

You sigh and give up on protesting when you realise it was pretty obvious you were uneasy.

‘It’s ok, Jungkook.’

He says, hesitantly, ‘I want to stay and help you, but if me being here is making you uncomfortable, I’ll go.’

You don’t know how to make this decision now that the ball’s in your court.

So you postpone it, like you’ve done with so many other decisions in your life.

You unlock the car doors.

‘Do you want ice cream?’

***

Jungkook, it turns out, likes ice cream quite a lot. Somehow, you’re not surprised.

He’s scraping the sides of the cup like he wants to get every single lump, so you pass him your half-eaten ice cream.

He accepts immediately, wide-eyed and so thrilled that it amuses you.

It’s hard to imagine him ever hurting anyone.

‘What’s your favourite flavour?’ you ask.

‘All of them,’ he replies, chocolate smeared at the corner of his mouth.

You laugh.

‘I’m sorry about Jimin,’ Jungkook says.

He’s not looking at you now, swirling his tiny neon spoon in his cup.

‘He’s scary when he’s angry, even though he’s so small.’

He hadn’t seemed small to you, although you guess Jungkook’s bigger.

‘What’s he mad about?’ you ask.

‘He doesn’t trust people,’ Jungkook answers. He glances at you. ‘He thought maybe you were forcing me to help you.’

You snort. ‘How?’

Jungkook doesn’t answer for a moment.

‘Your grandfather,’ he says, changing the subject. ‘There aren’t many photos of him.’

‘He left my grandmother,’ you say.

In all honesty, you don’t know much more than that. It had all happened when you were very young, your mother hadn’t told you anything about it, and your grandmother had always refused to discuss it.

Jungkook reaches out, fiddles with the dial on the car radio.

‘We should bring the groceries in,’ you say, remembering.

‘I’ll carry them,’ Jungkook insists.

He looks affronted when you try to take a bag off him.

‘I’m much stronger than you,’ he says, huffy.

‘Fine. Carry it all then. Can you make lunch too?’

***

You end up fixing lunch for you and Jungkook with leftovers and deli meat. You sit on the swing on your grandmother’s porch as you eat.

It’s a hot day, you’re grateful for the light breeze even though it’s barely making the leaves rustle.

Jungkook glances at you as he takes a swig of water, and you hold his gaze.

‘I’ve got some guys coming to collect the clippings and yard trash next week,’ you say. ‘Think we’ll be done by then?’

Jungkook nods, earnestly. ‘We should be.’

‘Do you have another job or something? Don’t feel obliged to stay, like I said you’ve helped me so much already.’

Jungkook says, firmly, ‘I owe you a debt, please let me pay it.’

You search his face. ‘How will I know when the debt is paid?’

‘I’ll know,’ Jungkook says. He seems unconcerned, sure of himself. ‘I’ll know, and I’ll take my leave then.’

‘What if I get sick of you before then?’ you ask, teasing.

‘Unlikely,’ Jungkook says, confident. ‘I’m well-liked.’

You frown a little as you mull this over, only to catch him watching you, a spark of mischief in his eye.

‘Are you fucking with me?’

Jungkook blinks. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

He’s all round-eyed innocence as you look at him suspiciously.

Finally you get up. ‘Come on, we’d better carry on, then.’

***

You’re up in the loft, trying not to feel overwhelmed at the sheer amount of things around you.

The trappings of a lifetime.

You pick up the item closest to you, a small wooden box with a mother of pearl inlay on the lid.

Inside, there’s a pretty champagne pearl set on a thin gold chain.

You smooth the pad of your thumb over the pearl, admiring the way it gleams even in the gloom of the loft. You put the necklace around your neck, set the box aside, and reach for the next thing.

In the next few hours, you sort old clothes, separate items into charity and junk piles and start bringing things down.

You’re three steps from the bottom of the folding ladder when you lose your balance.

You don’t have time to make any sound when you’re steadied by strong arms.

‘Easy, I’ve got you,’ says Jungkook.

He helps you down the last few steps, takes the armful of clothes off you.

‘Thanks,’ you say, gratefully.

‘I’ll bring things down,’ Jungkook says. ‘Is there a lot up there?’

‘We can take turns,’ you say. ‘There’s a lot.’

Jungkook mutters something about human materialism which you don’t quite understand but you’re distracted by the way he looks.

His neck is stretched, the line of his jaw sharp as he peers up the steps. His profile is beautiful.

He looks back at you, catches you staring at him.

‘I did tell you, didn’t I, that I was well-liked?’ he says, a twinkle in his eye.

He’s definitely fucking with you.

You say, casual, ‘you did mention that.’

Your eyes meet.

Then his gaze drops to the pearl necklace you have on.

‘Was that your grandmother’s?’ he asks.

He reaches out, hesitates, then, when you nod, lifts the pendant gently.

‘It’s a natural pearl,’ he says, something like awe in his voice. ‘These are very rare.’

‘My grandmother loved the sea,’ you say, your voice dropped to a whisper, you’re not sure why.

Jungkook looks down at you. Like this, he’s so close you can see a tiny beauty mark on his lower lip, a small scar on his cheek.

Imperfections that only make him seem more perfect.

He’s not touching you at all, but you can feel the warmth he radiates.

For the first time, you notice he smells faintly like the sea.

You like it.

Jungkook’s gaze is so intense you have to look away.

He lets go of your necklace, and takes a step back.

You try not to feel disappointed.

‘I need to go,’ Jungkook says. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow.’

‘Sure,’ you say, too quickly, with a nervousness you can’t explain.

He turns, descends the stairs.

You push the fold up ladder to the loft up, re-fasten the catch, trying to calm your fluttering heart.

‘Hey,’ Jungkook says.

He’s climbed back up, is holding out his pelt to you.

‘Can you keep this for me until tomorrow?’

‘Sure,’ you say, lifting your arms out for it.

It’s heavier than you expected.

‘I’ll keep it somewhere safe,’ you reassure him.

Jungkook says, ‘I know you will.’

He smiles at you, and jogs back downstairs. He stops at the foot of the stairs, waves, and then he’s off.

***

You’re not sure what to do with Jungkook’s pelt when you go to bed but you know it’s important to him, so you end up laying it at the foot of your bed.

It’s hot and sticky tonight, the air ruffling the thin gauzy curtains isn’t providing any respite.

There’s a knot, low down in your groin, a neediness between your legs.

Unbidden, Jungkook’s face floats into your head.

His pretty eyes. The way his jaw clenches whenever he catches you doing something that he thinks should be his job.

The feel of his arms caging you in when he stopped you from falling down the steps earlier.

You look down at your body. Your nipples are hard, pressing against the gossamer thin cotton of your sleep tank. You run a hand over your breasts, pinch restlessly at a nipple.

Your moan sounds obscene in the quiet of your room.

Your cunt tightens, and you slide a hand between your legs for relief.

The pads of your fingers press against your swollen bud, and you moan again.

Jungkook’s naked back, muscles glistening with sweat.

The feel of his bare, sun-warmed skin under your fingers.

You’re breathing faster now, bucking your hips into your own hand as you press two fingers into your warmth.

You imagine Jungkook’s hands inside you instead of your own.

His smirk when he told you he was ‘well-liked’.

You don’t doubt it.

Your need builds as you touch yourself, legs splayed, toes pointed.

Your foot touches Jungkook’s pelt, and you sit up, breasts heaving, nipples pointed, hard.

You reach down for Jungkook’s pelt, bring it up to your face, and inhale.

It smells like him.

You pull it to your chest as you finger yourself, and the friction of it on your sensitive nipples tips you over the edge.

You come with a whine, a gasp, gushing stickiness between your thighs, thinking of Jungkook.

***

You wake up late the next morning, the sun’s high in the sky by the time you get out of bed.

You look out the window and see Jungkook’s now familiar back in a corner of the garden.

‘Morning!’ you call before you remember exactly what you did with Jungkook’s pelt last night.

You don’t wait for a reply, leaning back from the window quickly.

Thankfully you hadn’t got any cum on his pelt.

Shit. What got into you?

You groan inwardly as you traipse to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

You run lightly down the stairs, only to skid to a stop when you see Jungkook lifting his pelt from where you put it on the couch before you went to sleep.

He’s been sniffing it.

You blink, straighten your back, and say, brightly, ‘What do you want for breakfast, Jungkook?’

You do, after all, come from a long line of women who’ve made a lifetime about not talking about things they don’t wish to talk about.

Jungkook looks at you, a little sweaty, dazed. His pupils are huge, his eyes dark.

‘Anything,’ he says. His voice has dropped to a timbre you haven’t heard before from him, low, almost a rasp.

‘Sure,’ you say, turning smartly to the kitchen.

It’s a good twenty minutes before Jungkook joins you in the kitchen.

He looks flushed, damp like he’s been splashing water on his face, but he looks more like his usual self.

You put a plate of pancakes in front of him. Your hand brushes his accidentally, and he moves his hand back like he’s been scalded.

‘Shit, sorry,’ you say, flustered by his reaction.

Unsure what else to do, you take a seat opposite him, and start eating.

After a moment, he starts eating too.

You give yourself a moment so that your voice won’t betray you and then say, ‘I’m going to be clearing out the loft again today.’

Jungkook takes a moment to reply.

‘I can help bring things down.’

‘Great. Thank you.’

You push the remaining pancakes towards him.

Jungkook clears his throat.

‘Have you, uh, done something to your hair? You look pretty.’

‘Nothing special,’ you answer.

You flick your gaze his way.

‘I’m well-liked too.’

Jungkook nearly chokes on the mouthful of pancakes he’s chewing.

He gulps down water, eyes watering.

You smile at him as you clear away your plate.

***

Jungkook grunts as he sets a box down next to you.

You’re trying hard not to notice exactly how he’s worked up a light sweat, just enough to make his skin glow and his t-shirt stick to his torso.

Jungkook lifts his arms over his head, stretches. The hem of his t-shirt lifts two inches above the waist of his jeans.

You fight the sudden urge to bite his taut skin.

Jungkook rakes a hand through his damp hair. It’s wavier today, curling around his face prettily.

You’re struck by the duality of his pretty face and his distinctly masculine body.

To hide the warmth in your cheeks, you look down into the box he’s just brought down.

There’s a stack of letters, shoved haphazardly into torn envelopes.

You pick one up and begin to read.

Dearest,

I thought of you today. When Ara gets mad, she furrows her brows and tilts her head, and she looks exactly like you.

I know we chose this life, but it doesn’t make it any less hard.

All my love, always,

Dasom

You wonder why the letter’s with your grandmother and not your grandfather, if he ever got to see it.

You pick up the next.

Dearest heart,

Your uncle stopped by today, and as you can probably guess, he didn’t have any pleasantries to share.

One day I’ll be kinder, but today is not that day.

I shooed him off with the driftwood you salvaged from the cove.

You would have been proud of me.

Look after yourself, my love, I cannot wait for when you come back to me.

All my love, always,

Dasom

You smile to yourself, amused. Your grandmother was dainty, with the petite stature of many women of her generation, and yet somehow it isn’t a stretch to imagine her shooing off a man twice her size.

Beneath the letter is a photograph, a faded black and white, of your grandparents. You smile fondly at it, at the way your grandmother’s smiling brightly at your stoic-looking grandfather.

You notice something just in the frame that gives you a jolt of recognition. At their feet, what you thought initially was a rug looks on closer inspection to be a fur skin of sorts.

It reminds you, oddly, of Jungkook’s pelt.

A shadow falls over you.

‘Are those your grandparents?’

You look up, startled, and the photograph slips from your hand.

Jungkook leans down to pick it up, looks at the photo. He blinks, frowns a little.

‘They’re my grandparents,’ you tell him.

Jungkook asks, with a new note in his voice, ‘Why is there a pelt in this photograph?’

You have no idea.

‘Was one of your grandparents a selkie?’

You blink, totally confused.

‘What’s a selkie?’

Jungkook’s examining the photo closely. ‘It looks like the pelt’s your grandfather’s size.’

‘Rewind,’ you demand. ‘What’s a selkie?’

Jungkook looks at you like he’s debating something in his head.

Finally, he says, ‘I can show you. We’ll have to walk down to the sea.’

***

It’s a glorious late summer day, you can feel your confusion and curiosity lifting as you and Jungkook walk down your grandmother’s path to the beach.

He’s got his pelt with him, slung carelessly over his shoulder.

His steps are lighter the closer you get to the sea, it’s like he feels as unburdened as you.

When you get to the water’s edge he stops, turns to you.

‘Will you wait for me?’ he asks. ‘I’m about to show you a lot, I’m worried about how you might react, so will you wait here until I come back to you?’

He’s so serious about it, you can’t protest.

‘Where are you going?’ you ask.

‘I won’t be far,’ Jungkook says. ‘But I promise, I’ll come back to you.’

He’s already slipping off his clothes, barenaked in the sun, and you avert your eyes hastily.

‘When you said you had a lot to show me—-‘ you start.

Jungkook turns his head. He smiles, more than a hint of mischief in his gaze.

‘Wait for me.’

He slips his pelt over his shoulders, and dives into the water.

He’s a strong swimmer, a few hundred yards out already.

There’s a strange tingling in your stomach, a fizzing in your veins.

You wonder if you’re about to be profoundly changed.

You can barely see him now.

Hold it.

You can’t see him at all.

Shit!

Is he caught in the current?

You take a few frantic steps out into the surf, panicked, unmindful that your entire bottom half is wet.

‘Jungkook?’

Your first shout is weak, barely carrying, lost in the crash of the surf.

You try again.

‘Jungkook?’

You take another few steps out, you’re deep enough to swim but you can’t see anything in the sea.

Your eyes sting with salt and the sun as you surface.

‘Jungkook!’

There’s a dark shape in the water, a ripple through the waves, and you scream as the shape brushes past you.

It turns, heads straight to you, and you dive into the water to swim away from it.

It follows, and every shark story you’ve ever been told jumps into your head.

You’re not as good a swimmer as Jungkook, but you did spend a lot of summers at the seaside growing up.

You head back to shore, kicking strongly, and by the time you’re knee deep you’re exhausted from the adrenaline.

You realise the creature’s followed you to the shore.

It’s not a shark at all.

It’s a seal.

It stays half submerged.

It looks like it’s looking straight at you.

Like it’s waiting for you.

Jungkook’s parting words pop into your head.

Wait for me.

You take a step closer. The seal stays where it is, facing you.

There’s something familiar about the tilt of its head.

The world rocks on its axis, and you?

You slip down into the sand in a dead faint.

***

You wake to sunlight that’s too bright, and Jungkook leaning over you.

His expression’s panicked, his eyes wide and worried.

You wince a little, raise your hand over your head to block out the light.

Jungkook’s saying your name, so you squint up at him.

‘Jungkook?’

‘Are you ok?’ His words come out rushed, urgent.

‘What happened?’

It comes back to you in a flash.

You groan and try to sit up.

Jungkook helps support you, hand flat against the small of your back.

‘Where did you go?’ you ask, a dumb question because you’re not sure if you’re ready to ask the question you really want to ask.

Jungkook says, ‘I went into the ocean, then I—-‘

He breaks off, then says, ‘Then I came back to you.’

‘There was a seal,’ you say carefully.

Jungkook just waits.

‘Jungkook, what’s a selkie?’

Jungkook smiles at you, gentle.

‘I just showed you.’

***

You’re looking out of the window of your house as Jungkook makes you tea. He’s been hovering around you like a worried mother hen since the beach, no matter how much you reassure him you’re ok.

His pelt lies beside you on the couch, thrown carelessly next to you as he rushed to fix you a drink when you got back.

You reach out gingerly and run a hand over it.

It’s warm, sleek, the short fibres bristling under your palm when you brush the wrong way.

How had you not recognised it as sealskin before?

Jungkook comes back, carefully holding a mug. He sees you touching his pelt, and you pull your hand away.

‘I don’t mind, if you touch it,’ he assures you.

You say, ‘I like how it feels.’

You sip the tea Jungkook’s just given you.

‘Tell me about selkies,’ you say.

Jungkook sits next to you on the couch. ‘I have a clan. Jimin, whom you met the other day, is part of it.’

‘We mostly live close to the sea. We can take either form—‘

At your expression, he clarifies, ‘I can be seal, or human.’

‘And the pelt?’

‘It’s part of my seal form,’ Jungkook tells you.

You have more to ask about his pelt, but Jungkook changes the subject.

‘Your grandfather was selkie,’ he says.

‘Is that common?’ you ask. ‘That selkies marry humans?’

‘It’s not unheard of,’ Jungkook says. ‘Some clans frown upon it.’

‘My grandfather left my grandmother,’ you tell him.

‘I’m sorry.’

You shrug. ‘I don’t know much. My grandmother didn’t talk about it.’

You turn to him.

‘I found all these letters she wrote him, I don’t know if he ever got to see them.’

Jungkook’s thoughtful. ‘I can ask around, if you want.’

He gets up. ‘I should go. Jimin wanted my help tonight.’

He gives you a careful look. ‘Will you be all right?’

‘No wonder Jimin’s a selkie,’ you say. ‘I bet his bark is worse than his bite.’

Jungkook gives you an exasperated look.

You’re on a roll. ‘Don’t worry I won’t tell anyone. My lips are sealed.’

Jungkook tosses his pelt at you. ‘Shut up.’

You struggle to extricate yourself from under his pelt. ‘Don’t you need this?’

‘Nah,’ Jungkook says, casual. ‘Besides —’

His voice drops low as he tilts his chin at you.

‘I like the way it smells when you look after it for me.’

Now you’re the one stammering and heating up.

Jungkook smirks at you and lets himself out.

***

Jungkook loads the last of the boxes into the back of your car and shuts the trunk.

He’s stepping back from the car when you ask, ‘Hey, you want to come with?’

Jungkook considers this.

‘We can get ice cream,’ you offer. ‘You’ll have to put a shirt on, though.’

Jungkook’s already pulling his t-shirt over his head and sliding into the passenger seat.

‘You’ll need someone to help you unload this stuff at the charity shop,’ he reasons.

‘Chocolate or vanilla?’ you ask.

‘Both?’ suggests Jungkook hopefully.

You smile affectionately at him. ‘Anything you want, doll.’

Jungkook pouts. ‘It sounds like you’re making fun of me,’ he complains.

‘Don’t be seal-y,’ you say.

Jungkook groans. ‘I don’t know if ice-cream is worth this.’

You chuckle softly to yourself as you pull out of your drive onto the road into town.

***

Jungkook waits patiently on the kerb outside as you speak to the owner of the charity shop.

When you’re done you smile up at him.

‘Ice-cream?’

‘Sure,’ he agrees amiably.

He doesn’t say much until you’re back in the car, ice-creams in hand.

‘Are you ok?’ he asks.

You glance at him but he’s not looking at you, licking up the rivulet of cream that’s trickled down the side of his cone.

‘Yeah,’ you say.

‘Your grandmother was more than what she left behind,’ Jungkook says.

He’s still not looking at you.

‘She was.’

Unexpectedly, your voice cracks, you clear your throat abruptly in an attempt to hide it.

He’s looking at you now, when you’re trying to look away, to discreetly wipe the tears pricking your eyelids.

Jungkook reaches out, and, without comment, thumbs the tears off your cheeks.

You finish your ice creams in silence.

When you pull onto your drive and kill the engine, Jungkook turns to you.

‘Tell me another seal joke.’

‘What type of music do you like?’ you ask. ‘Club hits?’

Jungkook laughs.

He looks so pretty like this, dark hair wavy and tousled, golden skin gleaming, that you lean forward and kiss him.

His laughter stops, and you aren’t given time to fret about whether that’s a bad thing because he’s nudging closer, seeking your lips as you pull away.

There’s a sigh, and you couldn’t say if it’s from you or him, don’t care anyway, because he’s kissing you back, and it’s good.

He tastes like chocolate, and salt, his lips firm, his tongue teasing at the seam of your lips until you part them for him.

He licks into your mouth with a sweet urgency that makes you squeeze your thighs together.

His hand’s stroking the exposed skin of your back where your t-shirt’s ridden up, and his skin warms you more than the sun.

‘Jungkook,’ you murmur, as he presses kisses down the column of your throat, ‘wanna go upstairs?’

‘Yeah,’ he says. He pulls away, eyes dark, lips pink. ‘Yeah.’

***

You’re on your bed, half-undressed because Jungkook’s taking his time kissing along your breasts.

He’s shirtless, his beautiful chest toned and golden, flat nipples pebbling under your hand.

You brush a hand over the front of his jeans, thrilled by his hardness.

He groans, tugs at your shorts, lifts your hips up like you weren’t going to do it for him anyway.

He stares at the scrap of pink lace between your legs, so rapt you’re shy until he presses an open mouthed kiss to your folds.

The whine that falls involuntarily from your lips surprises you with its neediness.

Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind.

He tugs your panties half down your thighs, spreads you apart, and kisses you again.

His tongue slides between your folds, wet, insistent.

You’re throbbing, sensitive, as he licks you again and again.

He moans as you get wetter, slicker.

‘Swollen,’ he pants against your cunt. ‘Need me to lick you.’

You’re beyond words, bucking your hips so you can get more of the delicious pressure of his tongue where you need it.

‘Inside,’ you moan. ‘Need you.’

‘Yeah,’ Jungkook agrees.

He shoves his jeans down, draws out his cock.

Your mouth waters. He’s pretty. Thick, precum glistening on his head.

Jungkook strokes his cock between your folds, making himself even wetter, and you cry out at the feel of his cock head against your clit.

‘Shit. Do that again.’

He nudges himself against your clit, rubbing precum against you. ‘Like that?’

‘Yeah,’ you gasp.

Jungkook swears softly. ‘I need to be inside.’

You still as he pushes in, the hard blunt head of him stretching you as he slides in. He thrusts shallow, slow, and you’re wound so tight you could scream when he groans, deep in his chest, and fills you all the way.

He rocks his hips against yours, the head of him nudging at your front wall. You’re wrapped around him somehow, you don’t remember doing it but you thighs are around his hips, ankles crossed, holding him tight to you as he thrusts.

Jungkook groans, reaches out to grab your breasts as he makes them bounce with every lunge of his hips.

He’s so fucking strong. You knew that, you’ve seen him carry things, but you’d never put it together that he would be strong like this too, his body moving against yours like he was made to fuck you.

He slows, panting, canting his hips, changing his angle, grabbing at your thigh when your ankles unlock.

‘That’s it,’ he grunts. ‘That’s it, fuck me back.’

He throws his head back as you lift your hips to meet his, sweat gleaming on his throat.

‘Jungkook!’

‘Take it,’ he moans.

You cry his name repeatedly as you come, a pulse of pleasure so intense you lose track of everything that isn’t Jungkook and his cock inside you.

Jungkook’s grinding against you, filling you up, mouthing at your neck, when he cries out and pulls out abruptly.

You moan in protest, and he kisses you, deep, long. You can feel his heart pounding against you.

‘Tried to knot,’ he mumbles. ‘Sorry.’

You have no idea what he’s talking about but you’re enjoying the feel of him holding you too much to care.

You’ll ask later.

***

Jungkook, it turns out, is beautiful when he sleeps.

He’s splayed beside you, face down in your bed, the sheet loose over his hips.

His face is slack with sleep, brow unfurrowed, lips parted in an ‘o’ that makes him look surprised.

He’s adorable, and the warmth in your chest as you watch him sleep surprises you.

You turn over, face the open window.

A moment later, Jungkook’s moving, curling himself around you, his chest pressed to your back.

‘Can’t sleep?’ he murmurs, his husky voice against your ear making you shiver.

‘I’m trying,’ you tell him.

You can feel him, hard, as he curls his body around yours.

‘Let me help,’ he says.

He reaches round to touch your naked breasts, arches your back, slides his cock between the cleft of your ass, entering you shallowly until you’re gasping and moaning.

Then he fucks you again, and it’s even better than the first time.

***

You’re trying not to stare at Jungkook as you have breakfast together, but it’s hard when you can still feel the imprints of his hands on your body.

Your only consolation is that Jungkook seems to be struggling as much as you are.

His eyes flit between your neck, where he left a hickey close to your ear, skim over your breasts, and eventually his gaze lands on your face.

When he sees your smile he returns it, endearingly shy.

‘I had a good time last night,’ you say.

‘Me too,’ he replies.

You’re still smiling at each other like idiots.

There’s a knock on the door, and you look up, surprised.

You open the door to an unfriendly expression on a fiercely pretty face.

Jimin lifts a brow at you. ‘Is Jungkook here?’

Jungkook’s up. ‘Jimin?’

‘We have to go. Taehyung’s hurt.’ Jimin throws you a look that makes you step back.

He’s furious, and his next words hit you like a slap. ‘Fucking humans.’

You’re not given a chance to react, as Jimin’s already turning away. Jungkook throws you an apologetic look, but he doesn’t say anything.

Then they’re gone.

***

You’re nervous, waiting by your front door like it’s the first date you’ve ever had, and it’s not even a date.

Namjoon’s picking you up and you’re going into town for dinner.

You haven’t seen Jungkook since he left with Jimin. Granted, it’s only been a couple of days, but you’ve got used to having him around.

For the thousandth time, you wonder what he’s doing. You hope he’s ok.

There’s the flash of headlights in your front window, you’re opening the door before you realise you’re moving.

Namjoon pulls to a stop, gets out, and you have a flash of realisation.

He’s dressed up for this - shoulders and chest broad and strong against a crisp blue shirt, slacks that hug his ass and make his legs look even thicker.

‘Hey,’ you say, feeling suddenly shy.

This feels different from the Namjoon who used to collect shells and catch crabs with you when you were kids. You know he’s different now, but you’re still getting used to it.

He walks over to open your door for you.

‘Hey,’ he says. He smiles, and the flash of dimples makes you feel more at ease.

‘Hey,’ you say again.

‘Hey,’ he replies. ‘You look really pretty.’

You put your hand over your grandmother’s pearl, hanging in your decolletage.

‘Thanks,’ you say. ‘You look good too.’

You slide into the passenger seat, look up just in time to catch the way Namjoon’s gaze drops to how your skirt’s ridden up your thighs.

There’s a beat of nothing, then you hastily pull your skirt down, and Namjoon straightens up to close your door.

At the restaurant, Namjoon leans back in his chair across from you. His arm’s slung casually over the back of the chair next to him – you’ve never seen his shoulders look so broad.

‘How are you getting on with clearing out your grandmother’s house?’ he asks.

‘We’re doing well,’ you tell him. You take a sip of your wine. ‘The loft’s almost empty, that was the biggest task, and the garden looks pretty good now.’

You see the way his brow rises slightly at the ‘we’.

‘Remember that guy I told you about in the store? Jungkook? He’s been helping me.’

‘I’m glad you have help,’ Namjoon says. ‘If you need any extra hands, I’ve got time next week.’

‘I think we’ll be ok, but thanks,’ you tell him.

‘Are you staying?’ Namjoon asks. ‘After you finish clearing out the house?’

He shifts a little, and his thigh brushes yours under the table.

You try to ignore the rush of heat through you at the unexpected touch.

‘I might stay for a bit,’ you say.

You’d love to say you’re going back to where you were living, but the honest truth is, you feel untethered.

Your friends in the city were great, your little apartment is your sanctuary, and your job was ok, but since being back you’ve felt a distance between you and your old life.

You’ve never felt so strongly that there’s more out here for you.

Namjoon tilts his head. ‘It’d be great to see more of you. My mum’s always asking after you.’

You laugh. ‘I miss her a lot too.’

‘She thinks you and I would be perfect together, she was more excited than me about our date.’

You roll your eyes. ‘Surely she knows, Namjoon, that you don’t really date.’

Namjoon pretends to be hurt, but the twinkle in his eyes gives him away. ‘We’re in a nice restaurant, I wore a nice shirt, how can you say this isn’t a date?’

You pretend to be thinking.

‘Is this table too small, do you think? Because your thigh keeps brushing against mine, and —’

Namjoon laughs, sips his wine. ‘I also like that pearl you’ve got on that’s hanging between your tits. Like I needed more reasons to look there.’

You laugh. ‘It’s my grandmother’s!’

‘That ivory colour suits your skin tone,’ Namjoon says. He dimples at you.

‘Shut up,’ you grumble. ‘Eat your food.’

‘Load up on carbs, baby,’ Namjoon suggests. ‘We’re going to burn them off later.’

You ignore him.

***

Namjoon pulls up outside your house, gets out to open your door for you.

He looks at you hopefully. ‘Are you gonna invite me in?’

You laugh. ‘No. I’m fine with being the only woman in town you haven’t fucked.’

Namjoon laughs, cups your arm as he walks you back up to your front door.

There’s movement in the shadows, and you realise Jungkook’s been waiting on your front porch.

He steps forward, eyes you and Namjoon.

Beside you, Namjoon stiffens, turns towards you.

‘Hey, Jungkook,’ you say. ‘This is Namjoon. Namjoon, Jungkook.’

Jungkook nods at Namjoon.

Namjoon turns more, putting himself between you and Jungkook.

‘I can probably take him,’ Namjoon tells you, in a stage whisper. ‘If you want me to get rid of him.’

You roll your eyes. ‘No one’s getting rid of anyone. Thanks for dinner, Namjoon.’

Namjoon gives Jungkook a long look, then leans down deliberately to kiss you on the cheek.

‘Call me later,’ he says.

You wait until he’s got back in his car and driven off before turning to Jungkook.

‘Hey,’ you say. ‘How’s your friend?’

‘Taehyung? He’s ok. He was hurt but the clan’s looking after him. He’ll be fine,’ Jungkook tells you.

‘What happened?’

‘Some guys out in a fishing boat thought it’d be funny to try to catch him,’ Jungkook says. His eyes are serious. ‘There are some pretty cruel people out there.’

‘I’m sorry,’ you tell him.

You reach out to touch his arm, and he pulls back like he doesn’t want you to touch him.

You drop your hand, stung.

‘Is there much left to do? Have you made progress since I Ieft?’ Jungkook asks.

There’s a distance to his voice now, a coolness you’ve never felt from him before.

‘Yeah,’ you lie. ‘I’m almost done, actually.’

‘That’s great,’ Jungkook says. He’s barely looking at you.

‘Yeah.’

‘You probably don’t need my help anymore,’ Jungkook says.

You’re too upset to hide it, so you’re glad for the darkness around you.

‘Thank you,’ you say. ‘Thanks for helping me.’

Jungkook doesn’t say anything.

You fumble through your bag, looking for your keys, trying hard to see through the sheen of tears suddenly in your eyes.

‘Here,’ Jungkook says finally. He reaches into your bag, plucks out the keys, unlocks your front door.

‘Yeah, thanks,’ you say.

You risk a glance up at his face.

‘Are you — are you going?’

‘Yeah,’ he says. There’s something like regret in his eyes, but maybe you’re over-reading his expression.

‘Ok. Thank you.’

You step into your house, and very slowly, close the door behind you.

You tell yourself it’s probably for the best.

***

You have no idea why you keep coming back to this spot on the beach, apart from it was the spot Jungkook picked to profoundly change your world view.

It’s usually deserted, but today the usual serenity of the vista is marred by shouting.

You approach, and to your horror, there’s a seal on the shore, and a couple of guys standing over it.

You rush forward. ‘Hey!’

You have the oddest feeling of deja vu. It’s not the same, not the same at all, but this reminds you of the first time you met Jungkook.

You see the swing of a piece of driftwood, and you jump forward.

At the last moment, the guy who had been about to hit the seal manages to swing away so he doesn’t hit you.

You ignore him.

‘Get back in the water,’ you say.

The seal looks at you, watching, waiting.

‘Fucking go,’ you plead. ‘Please, just go.’

You think it’s Jungkook but you really have no idea, you’ve only seen him in seal form once.

You wait until he moves, before turning back to the guys.

‘Why would you even do that?’ you ask, angrily. ‘It’s a seal!’

The guy scoffs. ‘What’s it to you, bitch?’

You clench your jaw. ‘You’d better walk away, asshole.’

The two guys stare at you, but you’re too angry to care.

‘Hey!’ comes another voice.

You all turn to see Jimin approaching.

Fuck. Just what you need. Another angry man who hates you.

You turn back and realise the seal’s gone.

‘Come on,’ Jimin says. To your astonishment, he steps between you and the men. ‘Come on, Y/N, let’s go back home.’

You’re so surprised that you allow him to lead you away from the men.

Eventually you look at him. ‘We don’t even have the same home.’

‘Yeah, I’m aware of that,’ Jimin says, dry.

‘Guess you saw those assholes.’

‘Jungkook should know better.’

You try to ignore the flare of hope in your chest at the acknowledgement that it was Jungkook on the beach.

‘I guess you think he should know better about a lot of things,’ you say, spiky.

Jimin hums. ‘You didn’t hurt him but there are a lot of cruel humans out there.’

You’ve reached your door. ‘Yeah.’

You turn to Jimin. ‘I hope he’s ok,’ you say. ‘Look after yourself, Jimin.’

You don’t think there’s anything left to say.

***

You fall into a routine of sorts as the days click into place.

Jungkook had been right, the garden didn’t need any more work after he left.

The loft’s empty now, apart from a box of letters, some of which you’re waiting to have the emotional headspace to read.

After the loft, emptying the rooms is easy. The house still has its memories, but you no longer feel laden with the past.

It’s a week after you saw Jungkook on the beach that you wake to find his pelt on the step up to your kitchen door.

You pick it up carefully, look around like Jungkook might still be around even though your instincts tell you that you’re alone.

You place it on the couch, wonder what the hell you’re supposed to do with it, why he would even leave it with you considering he doesn’t want to see you.

You remember the picture of your grandparents and your grandfather’s pelt, and re-open the last box from the loft.

Letter after letter, tiny fine trinkets, a lock of your mother’s hair tied with a ribbon.

Another picture, this time of you, on your grandfather’s lap.

You don’t remember much about him apart from that he’d been kind, and that he’d seemed to love your grandmother. They’d seemed to have loved each other.

You unfold another letter. The paper’s crisper than the others, like it’s been wet and dried.

Dearest,

I don’t have any regrets about the life we chose. I’ll always cherish our time together, short though it was.

Today is hard. I’m angry, and I’m upset, and I miss you so very much.

I wish you’d chosen me instead of your clan.

I wish I’d told you what I wanted before you left.

I hate that we are apart, and today, I almost hate you.

I don’t mean that. Maybe I do.

Most of all, I wish I could tell you, my love, that even on days like this, it was worth all our while.

It was worth it.

All my love, always

Dasom

Tear prick your eyelids, and you blink them back hurriedly, but not quickly enough. A fat teardrop lands in the middle of the letter, and you realise now why the paper is crisper than the others, why the ink in some spots is smeared.

Your grandmother was crying when she wrote it.

You’re re-folding the letter, about to close the box, when you spot another letter at the very bottom.

It’s written on different paper, and when you unfold it, in different handwriting.

Dasom,

You know I’m not one for writing, you always wrote so much more beautifully than I did. Did you get the pearl? I found it last year, and it’s always reminded me of you.

I want to ask how Ara is but I see her sometimes by the shore, with Y/N, and they’re perfect.

Loving you was the best thing I ever did, and I think that every day.

All my love, always

Dal

You’re crying so hard you can barely breathe.

The knock on your kitchen door startles you. You wipe your tears away hastily, and open the door.

It’s Jungkook.

He’s wet, and it takes you longer than it should to notice that it’s raining.

Jungkook leans down so his face is closer to yours. His eyes are worried. ‘Are you ok?’

‘I’m fine,’ you tell him. ‘I was reading old letters.’

‘Thank you for helping me,’ he starts, ‘that day on the beach.’

‘Which one?’ you joke, tearily.

Jungkook smiles. ‘You’re always saving me,’ he agrees.

He steps closer, and you realise he’s trying to stop the rain from reaching you by shielding you with his own body.

You step back, into your kitchen.

‘I can’t sleep,’ Jungkook tells you.

‘Want a hot chocolate?’ you offer.

‘Always,’ Jungkook admits. ‘But I don’t think that’s why.’

You look up at him.

‘I belong to you,’ Jungkook tells you.

Your heart begins to pound.

‘I always have,’ he says, eyes intent on you.

You turn to give yourself some space. ‘I’ve told you, Jungkook, you don’t owe me anything.’

Your voice comes out firm, confident.

‘I owe you everything,’ Jungkook says.

‘You don’t owe me a damn thing —’

You’re cut off by Jungkook stepping forward and leaning down to kiss you. He’s gentle as always, his arm wrapping loosely around your waist to hold you as your lips meet.

Jungkook says, ‘Have you packed your bed?’

He’s backing you gently out of the kitchen, heading to the stairs.

‘Jungkook we can’t —’

He stops. ‘Don’t you want to?’ he asks.

‘Yeah, fuck, ok. We can.’

***

You’re loose, still boneless from your orgasm, when Jungkook goes to fetch you water from the kitchen.

He comes back with a glass of water, and his pelt.

‘Kinky,’ you say, teasing.

‘I didn’t tell you about pelts before,’ he says. He scoots in next to you, brushes your hair away from your face.

‘I have something to tell you about your pelt too,’ you confess.

At his expression, you say, quickly, ‘You go first.’

‘The reason I was so grateful to you when you helped me that day at the beach is that you stopped those men from taking my pelt,’ Jungkook tells you.

He looks at you. ‘For a selkie, a pelt is the source of our ability to change form.’

‘If those men had taken my pelt, I’d have been stuck in human form permanently.’

‘You should take better care of it,’ you scold.

Jungkook’s still looking at you. ‘I did. I left it with you.’

The realisation makes you sit up. ‘You should have told me how important it was!’

Jungkook says, simply, ‘I trusted you to look after it.’

You groan. ‘Why would you trust me like that, Jungkook?’

Jungkook rolls over, on top of you.

He’s heavy, but that’s not the main reason your breathing’s quickening.

‘I have more to tell you,’ he murmurs, voice husky now.

‘Yeah?’ you ask.

Jungkook leans his head down, tugs the sheet off you with his teeth.

His eyes darken as your breasts are bared to him.

‘I almost knotted you,’ he tells you.

You’re distracted, because he’s grinding against you, and you can feel exactly how hard he is.

‘Hmm?’ you ask.

Jungkook nudges his cock between your legs, pushing himself in an inch. Two.

You close your eyes. ‘Fuck, Jungkook.’

‘Knotting’s an important thing for selkies,’ Jungkook explains.

You have no idea how he even has the presence of mind to still be making full sentences.

Shit, you can’t think! Not when he’s inside you like this.

Jungkook moves, a shallow thrust that makes you moan.

‘When a selkie meets his mate, his biological response is to knot.’

‘Shit, Jungkook,’ you gasp as he moves again. ‘Can we talk about this later?’

Jungkook’s breathing hard as he moves again, and you’re pleased you’re not the only one hot and bothered by what he’s doing.

‘No,’ he says. ‘We need to talk about it. I’m worried I might —’

Your eyes snap to his.

‘What’s knotting?’

Jungkook stills, but you can still feel him, hard and throbbing inside you.

‘I’ve never knotted anyone before,’ he tells you. ‘But the other day, I nearly knotted you.’

Now he has your full attention.

‘After I come, the base of my cock swells inside you.’ He looks shy, which is a lot considering he’s inside you still.

‘It’s biological. To keep my sperm inside you.’

‘I’m on birth control —’

‘I know,’ he says. ‘But selkies haven’t evolved to get past that yet.’

You laugh. ‘Are you saying your cock gets even bigger after you’ve come?’

Jungkook buries his face between your breasts, but he’s still so hard.

‘Fuck. Ok, show me.’

‘It might hurt you,’ Jungkook says, touching your cheek.

‘You’ll look after me, won’t you?’

‘I will,’ he promises. ‘Fuck, I will.’

He starts moving again, grunting as he thrusts. You curl your hand around the nape of his neck, holding him close as he grinds against you.

‘Jungkook I —’

‘Yeah,’ he says. He presses kisses to your cheeks, to your neck, as you tighten around him.

You cry his name again as you come, hear his answering moan.

Jungkook’s thrusting slower now, movements getting more erratic as he reaches his peak.

He seals his lips to yours as he comes, groans deep in his chest. You can feel him twitching inside you as he fills you.

There’s so much come you can feel it leaking out of you.

Jungkook strokes your face, kisses you. ‘I’m going to knot,’ he tells you, voice strained. ‘Can I?’

‘Yeah,’ you say.

You turn your face into his hand, press a kiss into his palm as he swells inside you.

You shift a little, and Jungkook says, hoarse, ‘You’re doing so well, shit, it feels so good.’

He moves, once, and you moan at the pleasure of it.

‘Does it feel good for you?’ Jungkook asks. He makes the same movement again, and you moan again.

‘Yeah,’ you tell him. ‘I like it —’

Jungkook groans. ‘I like it too, baby.’

He reaches between your bodies, strokes your clit as he moves, and between the fullness inside you and the way he’s touching you, you come again.

Jungkook swears, pupils so blown his eyes look black. ‘I can feel you,’ he tells you. ‘Fuck, I can feel you.’

You bury your face in his chest, breathing in the scent of him as he holds you tightly. You have no idea how long the pleasure goes on for, if it even stops. All you know is the feel of Jungkook all around you, inside you, and it all makes sense to you.

***

Your grandmother’s grave is a simple one with a small flat polished headstone. The inscription reads, Dasom, loving mother to Ara and grandmother to Y/N, and loving wife to Dal.

Yours are the only flowers in front of it, but as you set them down you notice the square laid carefully on the ground.

It’s part of your grandfather’s pelt, you’d know it anywhere.

You look up at Jungkook, hesitant. ‘Does this mean –’

‘When a selkie dies, his pelt is given to his loved ones,’ Jungkook says.

You don’t put much stock in physical things, especially not now when you’ve seen firsthand how none of it matters, really, but you like that your grandfather’s pelt is with your grandmother.

You hope it means they’ve found each other again.

Jungkook holds out his hand to help you up, and you walk down the path together.

Author note: For Memes @madbutgloriouspond , because your friendship and kindness means the world to me.

#bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #selkie jk

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