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Donghyuck was soon to be wed.
It has been a while since he had felt this trapped. Not only metaphorically, inside his own head, but quite explicitly trapped, chained, to a title, to a castle, to responsibility, to expectations. He wasn’t fit to marry a princess, or a prince, or anyone, for that matter. But here he was, right after his father broke the news to him, running down the hill where his family’s palace stood mighty amongst the peasant society, crying like a helpless maiden, trying to find a place in the world where his tears and fears wouldn’t be judged, a place where they would get lost in the rawness of nature.
He had always had an affinity for it; nature, I mean. That’s why he escaped. Back then, when he was but a scrawny little boy, he would pretend to play with the fairies of the woodlands while his parents, the King and Queen, busied themselves with the ever-so-boring paramount-esque nature of their duties. The maidservants would leave him to his own devices, though watching carefully from afar at how he laughed at nothing and ran and jumped with no one in sight. He has fond memories of the wee creatures—memories he swears are real. They had taught him the names of the wildflowers that sprang up by the riverbank during spring, to ask for permission before picking something he fancied, even if it was a teensy pebble, or hug a tree and talk to it for hours. At some point, perhaps during his early stages of adolescence, they had stopped showing up, but the fragments of the very real scenarios were already too imprinted in his psyche for him to forget. And so he grew between the limbo of uncertainty and conviction, if what he saw had been real or his boyish mind was distorting the world he swore he lived in.
Regardless of confusion, the teachings—or makeshift beliefs—stayed. He wandered near the river because the noise soothed the wounds of neglect he had felt his entire life, asked permission to… whoever may be listening to pick a shiny pebble or gemstone he desired to add to his collection, and cried to the trees because he had never known any other friend owing to his family’s overwhelming protection as the sole male heir.
He thought of running towards his safe haven; a mighty oak on top of a hill, with roots tangled in such a way that one could feel they were being hugged back by it, cradled while being welcomed with the sight of a sparkling blue lake below, where he, more than once, heard the water sing to him—though most of those times he happened to be drunk out of his mind, so he isn’t entirely certain if they happened or not. Alas, the weight of his sorrow was such that he ran the complete opposite direction, riding atop his white stallion, he aimed for an infamous spot, a cliff near the beach, in which he pretended to do the unthinkable.
They called it the Weeping Woman’s Peak.
Baptised by the sailors of the old times, who fought to eradicate pirates of the Lee Kingdom’s shores. It was said that whenever someone with a broken heart approached the edge to meet their demise, they would hear the singing of a young woman calling for them. A mysterious apparition who would appear beautiful, unclothed, and wet, offering her flesh and eternal love to heal and nurture what was torn and discarded by another. If you agreed, the woman would kiss you so passionately, making you experience the utmost pleasure until she sucked your soul out of your breath, but if you refused, her once angelic face would morph into one of a fish-like monster, and she would take you with her as a prisoner to the depths of the sea, as she wailed and screeched like a banshee, for you would be doomed for eternity.
What a place to end it all.
He didn’t mean to be overly dramatic, though he most certainly was known for being so, but the road ahead looked puzzling and blurry. It had always been painful to know your life did not belong to you, that it never did nor ever will, but the sudden blow of realization when he found out he had been promised to the youngest princess of the Northern Kingdom was deafening. In the first instance, he felt like puking his breakfast at the prospect of bedding a sixteen-year-old, given he was almost twenty-one. Secondly, he had never, ever looked at a woman with an ounce of desire or anything he was supposed to feel as a man. And even if his parents were to find a fit prince his age to marry, he knew the life of unhappiness and dullness that awaited him. Just like his parents' loveless union, his mother was shipped from the Southern Lands to their kingdom like a package her family couldn’t wait to get rid of, doomed to marry and obey a statue of a man, while his father spent most of his life as king, drunk and under the sheets of the concubines of his harems. Now they expected their only son to suffer the same fate?
Absolutely not.
The strong taste of salt pooled under his tongue, and the wind carried the cold air of the faraway sea. He commanded his horse to slow down, admiring the sight before him as he approached in a careful motion. It was at the base of the Weeping Woman’s Peak that he decided it was best for him to go alone. He dismounted his horse without grace, cleaning his tears with the back of his hand, and looked the creature in the eye, while the loving memories of their time together burned like firewood until they caught up to the sour present. He pressed a kiss on its muzzle and rested his forehead there until a wild thing in his heart told him that it was time.
He walked uphill unceremoniously, sadness evaporating like tea boiling in an iron kettle, until only anger remained. Anger and hatred towards his father, his mother, his title, himself, and the life that wasn’t his, and yet he was doomed to live. He had decided his death would be his. He cursed under his breath at the beginning, but even the words felt short, so the scream and curses began, louder and louder the higher he got, until the edge of the cliff welcomed him as if it had been expecting his arrival.
But there was another voice; he could hear it coming from the base of the hill, meandering slowly behind him, mingling with the echoes of his own inside of his mind. It was a song; the melody of an old pirate hymn he had heard from the tales one of his maids used to sing before bed, hummed in a lower register, making the sudden feeling of sadness pollute him once more. It was a helpless sensation of doom, pain, and heartbreak.
His heart rate spiked; he could feel it hammering against his rib cage, as his breathing turned erratic. He did not realize he had started walking again; he meant to turn around and unmask the veil covering the face of the legend for himself, yet there was something else urging him to run away from that voice, to go to him instead. Step after step, sparkling eyes lost themselves in the glow of the horizon, until he stopped feeling the grass beneath his feet, and there was only… nothing.
There was nothing.
He doesn’t remember the fall, but he does remember the crash.
He heard the waves breaking on the heavy rocks, he saw the water dyed in red, he felt his thoughts scattering outside of his skull, and the air being forced out of his lungs. There was an awful sting at the back of his head. Like a hot iron stake being impaled there, then retreating, then going in again. He wanted to scream, but he had no oxygen and therefore, he had no voice. His eyes were sealed shut by the pressure of the ocean. Then it was all darkness… An eerie lack of sensation, of noise, until it wasn’t.
The first thing he noticed when his eyelids decided to open was the moon. Its light shone so unnaturally that it blinded him for a spell, until the sensations in the rest of his body returned like a broken clock, in total disorder. He felt his calves, yet not his legs. His fingers, but not his hand. It was odd, but he was not worried, somehow. Just a tad impatient. Though despite his eagerness, a bizarre sense of tranquility surrounded him, held him, hugged him through the haze of confusion. His body was stirring awake at an awfully slow pace, and he realized then that what he was experiencing was, quite literally, someone hugging him with great delicacy, coaxing him out of the state of numbness he was in, dragging him back to the real world, anchoring him to now, or the concept of it.
“Just let it happen,” he heard a deep whisper, lulling in his right ear. “If you force it, it will take longer than it needs to.”
He so badly wanted to turn around, find the origin of it, so close that it diluted through his brain, disguising it as a thought of his own. But it wasn’t, he knew it was there, a body sharing its weight between his chest and the harsh surface he was lying on. A mouth speaking reassuring words into his ears, rearranging his head into a maze he didn’t know how to get out of.
“That’s it.” The voice praised. “You got this, Donghyuck.”
The mention of his name made him jolt awake from it, like a kid fighting his way out of a nightmare. The salty spray of the ocean misted his face as he lay sprawled on the jagged rocks of a secluded cove. He saw no entrance, no escape, only an almost perfect circular opening at the top from which the beams of the moonlight poured on him like liquid silver. His chest heaved arrhythmically from the confusion; his expensive garments clung to his skin, soaked all the way through, yet he was alive. He touched his face, the back of his head that he swore had cracked like a coconut, looking for the minuscule sign of damage, but everything felt right in place. He looked at his hands then, how the tips of his fingers looked like they belonged to an old, old man. Then at his legs, preparing himself to see them broken, or torn to shreds, but they weren’t, just like the rest of his body, he was okay. It was then that he devised something, just a couple of inches away from his palm, resting on the dry rock… A tail. A tail covered in blue—or green, maybe even pink—scales. The tail of a fish. A very big fish. His eyes trailed upwards, watching the large appendage grow in length and width, until he saw it. Or him.
It looked like a he. A boy—no. A man. An astonishingly beautiful man. Lying like sin, looking back at him with an unruffled visage, as if it had known about everything for lifetimes, as if his mere existence wasn’t unearthly. He had a head full of blond tresses, cascading down his face. Alien skin; so pale, it bordered on translucence, although some touch of red could be seen blushing on his elbows and chest.
And, Gods in the heavens, what a chest it was.
He would’ve confused it—him—with a female if it wasn’t for the shape of his chest. They were, in lack of more appropriate adjectives, fucking massive, yet they very clearly belonged to a male. He wouldn’t have been able to see anywhere else, to take his eyes off it, of the way the slick torso glistened like the glaze of a pastry, if it weren’t for the creature's eyes burning into his skin. He dragged his gaze leisurely until it collided with his. And only then did Donghyuck get a proper look at its face.
Have you ever heard stories about the kind of mesmerizing beauty that could drive a man to insanity? One that could only belong to divinity gracing the mortal world. Was there any other explanation for this occurrence? Was there even an explanation at all? A god had saved him. A god that knew his name. A god that healed the wounds he felt tearing open. A god that enchanted his senses with a serpent-like grin. A god that was getting close, and close, and closer.
“Attaboy.” The creature purred like a cat, the sound a low vibration that seemed to resonate directly in Donghyuck’s bones. The approval in that single word was a drug, a balm on a wound he hadn’t known was festering. “You’re welcome.”
Donghyuck tried to swallow the drool he felt threatening to fall from his lips, but his mouth was as dry as the sand of the desert. The world had narrowed to the space between their bodies, to the impossible perfection of the face before him.
“H—How… How do you know my name?” He stammered out, the words feeling clumsy and foreign on his tongue.
It smiled once again, a slow, knowing curve of his lips that made Donghyuck’s stomach clench. “Oh, I’ve known you for a long, long time.” The creature tilted its head, a gesture of almost feline curiosity, although his eyes held a flicker of something that looked like… melancholy. “I tried to call you once… but you didn’t answer.” Very brief, yet heavily present. “You broke my heart, you know?”
“W—What? When?” Donghyuck’s mind raced in a frantic search through memories that yielded nothing but the opaque walls of the palace and the suffocating weight of his destiny and duties.
Its expression softened, but he quickly sensed it as one of a predator taunting its prey. It dismissed the question with a faint wave of a hand. Hand that had a thin membrane stretched between each finger, as translucent as sea-glass, catching the pearly light like the surface of the crystalline water. Said fingers were long and tapered, the tips ended in pale, curved claws… Perfect for slicing through the currents of the depths of the ocean, or a man’s throat, without complications. The thought made him swallow dry. And it noticed. Of course it did. “I fear it does not matter anymore.” Its gaze sharpened, pinning Donghyuck in place. And just as easily, the playful sorrow vanished, almost imperceptibly replaced by a cool, hard finality of a huntsman claiming a pretty beast in the forest. “I saved you, Donghyuck… You owe me.”
The words cut a sharp tear in the fabric of Donghyuck’s awe. “What do you mean?”
“I saved you from dying, silly.” The creature’s voice was light, chiding, like it was explaining something simple to a child. A cool finger came up to trace the line of Donghyuck’s jaw, and the touch sent a jolt through him. “You owe me.” It was both terrifying and… exquisite.
“What? N—No.” The protest was a weak gasp of defiance from a drowning man. “I—I didn’t want to be saved. I came here because… because…”
“You came here because you thought you wanted to die.” Its tone dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, its mythical face drawing nearer still. “But that’s not the truth, Donghyuck. Is it?”
“Stop it. Stop, how could you possibly know what—”
“You were thinking of me as a god a minute ago…” It interrupted, tone laced with a triumphant and mocking logic that left no room for argument. It knows, it's all Donghyuck can think. How does it know? The finger on Donghyuck’s jaw moved to his chin, tilting his head up. “…and now you believe that I wouldn’t know everything? That I wouldn’t know you? Oh, I know you, my prince. That’s why I did what I did… Tell me, does a god make mistakes?”
The weight of his title landed as a slap of reality, trying to save him from the jaws of perdition. But the way it was uttered, the words… My prince. It was a mark of ownership and liberation. Of freedom and doom. Donghyuck’s breath hitched. “What is it then? What do you know?” He pleaded, desperate for any solid ground to steady himself inside this swirling vortex.
“I know that your soul craves freedom. Autonomy.” Donghyuck hadn’t noticed the azure pools in its eyes, how they roamed freely over Donghyuck’s face, in a slow, possessive inventory. “Does it crave love, too, Donghyuck? Or is it just that troubled heart of yours speaking? I reckon you do. Actually… I’m quite sure you do.”
“How… H—”
“Shhh.” Another cool and definitive finger pressed against his chapped lips, silencing him instantly. The pressure was gentle, yet absolute, submitting him into quietness. “You don’t need to speak anymore. You just need to pay me what you owe me… for freeing you.”
Donghyuck’s mind snagged on the word, his thoughts moving through molasses, trying to fight with his own body against the pressure of its touch. “Freeing me?”
“Are you telling me you want to go back to be married to a child, and live cowardly behind walls that never belonged to you?” The creature's voice was laced with a faint, theatrical disgust. It leaned back just enough for Donghyuck to feel the loss of its heat. “Or do you want to come with me?”
“I—I don’t understand.” The confusion was a physical ache behind his eyes. “You’re freeing me, but I owe you my life now? How does that even work?”
A low chuckle escaped its lips. It was a beautiful, terrible sound. Donghyuck thought he could get lost in it. “You’re still too human to understand… But I can help you. Do you want me to help you?”
A trap. It had to be a trap. But then the grey, suffocating alternative was a life he’d fled. It was a death of a different kind. “Help me,” Donghyuck heard himself say, the words feeling like they were pulled from him. “So I can increase my debt with you? Is that it?”
“Oh, no. Absolutely not.” The smile returned, wide and blindingly sincere. It looked sincere. “This one is but a wee favor. The only thing you have to do is let me.”
The fingers finally retreated from his lips, leaving them cold and tingling. Donghyuck could only stare, his mind a blank canvas, his body itching with a terrifying, forbidden want. “Let… you?”
Its eyes darkened, and the already uncannily big pupils widened until they were twin pools of night surrounded by a thin cerulean ring. “Uhum.” It hummed the sound of a very sketchy promise, deliberately biting his lower lip in temptation. “Let me.”
It slithered closer, water sluicing off its body as it propped itself on powerful arms. Its split tongue darted out, forked tip tasting the air between them. “It’s Jaemin, by the way.” He murmured, leaning in until his breath ghosted over Donghyuck's lips. “Creature doesn’t sound that nice. Does it, prince?” The tongue flicked again, longer than any human's, coiling teasingly toward Donghyuck's neck. It brushed his pulse point, the two prongs sending electric jolts through his veins. He had sharp fangs for canines, and plump, rosy lips glossed with spit. Donghyuck could only surrender at his magnificence, suddenly craving the feel of them inside his mouth. He looked back at the siren, at how he let it—his tongue—hang like a trophy for him to snatch. It was when Donghyuck's resolve cracked like sea foam on the shore. He grabbed Jaemin's face, crashing their mouths together in a bruising kiss. Jaemin moaned into it, pointy teeth grazing Donghyuck's lower lip just enough to draw a bead of blood, which his tongue lapped up greedily, the spiky ends twisting around Donghyuck's own tongue as ropes come to life, sucking and probing every corner of his mouth with slick, insistent pressure. Donghyuck growled low in his throat, one hand fisting into those wild blonde curls, yanking Jaemin's head back to expose the pale column of his throat. Donghyuck's hands roamed, fingers digging into the soft, pale flesh of Jaemin's shoulders, then sliding down to pinch at his nipples, twisting until the majestic being under him arched with a whine.
The amount of drool Jaemin was producing almost made him choke. Though there was something in it, whether it was the taste or the thickness of it, it didn’t matter; what mattered was the effect it was having on him. Clouding his mind, straining his resolve into a thin string that was about to pop. Donghyuck attacked back with teeth and lips, biting down hard enough to leave red marks blooming on that ghostly skin, sucking bruises into the flesh as if he owned it. He owned it, a voice inside of him sang triumphantly. All while Jaemin made animalistic sounds that ranged from whimpers to growls, his body arching up from the rocks, tail splashing water in erratic bursts. “I don’t—” Donghyuck's free hand roamed greedily, palms sliding over the siren's torso, worshipping the smooth, cool expanse of his round chest. “I don’t know what’s happening.” Donghyuck rasped against Jaemin's collarbone, his fingers tracing the delicate ridges of ribs beneath, then pinching at those pink nipples until they hardened into tight peaks. He rolled them roughly between thumb and forefinger, twisting until Jaemin bucked with a cry, his fangs sinking into his own lower lip to stifle the sound. Jaemin's tail thrashed once more, splashing them both, yet he spread his arms wide, willingly inviting, welcoming all of Donghyuck in. Donghyuck's cock hardened painfully in his wet trousers as he palmed the siren's chest in a trance, thumbs circling those pebbled nipples before leaning down to suck one into his mouth. He bit down lightly, eliciting a hiss from Jaemin.
“But you do.” Jaemin sighed, holding Donghyuck’s head in place. “Let yourself go, prince.”
The aphrodisiac in Jaemin's saliva seeped into his pores, a warm haze spreading through Donghyuck's bloodstream like liquid fire. It sharpened every sensation, made his cock throb painfully against the confines of his trousers, and twisted his desire into something feral, demanding. He shoved Jaemin back harder against the rocks, the siren's body yielding with a gasp and the ghost of a selfish smile, water pooling around them as the tide crept higher. Donghyuck's hands were everywhere, adoring and claiming, stroking down the narrow dip of Jaemin's waist, kneading the firm muscles of his hips where it met iridescent scales, marveling at how the pale skin flushed pink under his touch. “You— You’re… You’re beautiful.” He muttered, voice shy yet rough with a kind of lust that felt beastly, leaning down to drag his tongue over one nipple again, then the other, biting hard enough to make Jaemin hiss and writhe.
Jaemin's hands clawed at Donghyuck's blouse, tearing the wet fabric open with urgent tugs, nails raking over his prince's chest and back in retaliation, then fumbled with Donghyuck's laces, freeing his throbbing cock with eagerness. It sprang out, thick and veined, head slick with beads of precum, slapping against Jaemin's tail with a wet smack. The siren's eyes darkened considerably; there was no trace of color left, only a pitch-black bottomless pit of doom remained, and it looked gorgeous. His split tongue flicked out to taste whatever of Donghyuck was close enough, and he ground his lower body up, the scales of his tail rasping against Donghyuck's legs. “Take me,” Jaemin ordered huskily. “Claim your savior. Pay him what you owe him.” Jaemin’s voice commanded with a melodic whine that vibrated through the mist of pleasure, making Donghyuck's control fray further. He guided Donghyuck's hand lower, over the smooth scales of his tail, to a hidden slit near the base where the tail met the torso. It was sealed tight, yet still visible; a vertical seam waiting to be explored and wrecked. Donghyuck traced it curiously, feeling the heat radiating from within. “You need to coax it open, prince.” Jaemin whispered, hips bucking up.
The hidden slit was already parting slightly, pink slightly peeking through, weeping a thick, pearlescent slick that coated Donghyuck's fingers the moment he brushed it. The scent hit him, an intense mixture of tropical fruits, and as he rubbed the seam, the slick smeared across his skin, absorbing it instantly. Heat exploded in his gut, making his vision tunnel with raw need. “I don’t feel so good.” Donghyuck whined, yet he absolutely was. He was feeling so good he couldn't stop, dipping two fingers into the tight heat, feeling the walls clench greedily around him. The slick burned like wildfire, urging him to take, to ruin, to fuck until nothing remained but bliss and satisfaction. Jaemin keened, his tongues lolling out as it began to part, slick folds fully emerging like a blooming flower, the siren's entrance pulsing under his touch. Jaemin's walls were velvety, rippling with need, and Donghyuck pumped his fingers slowly, scissoring them to stretch the tight channel.
Jaemin’s blonde curls splay across the rock as his entire being thrashes against the surface. “My essence binds you to me.” He panted, hips rolling up to fuck himself on Donghyuck's fingers. The prince added a third, pumping roughly, the wet squelch of the siren's channel echoing obscenely over the waves. Donghyuck's adoration turned possessive; he leaned down, pressing open-mouthed kisses to Jaemin's quivering belly, tongue dipping into the navel before trailing lower. His free hand stroked the siren's side, fingers splaying wide to feel every inch of that ethereal body, mapping the silken texture to memory.
“Yes, like that… deeper,” Jaemin gasped, golden locks matted against his forehead as he writhed. His fangs sank into Donghyuck's shoulder, not harsh enough to break the skin but to mark him with sharp pressure. Donghyuck added a fourth finger, curling all of them to brush a sensitive spot that made Jaemin's tail coil around his leg, pulling him closer. The slit gaped wider under his assault, slick gushing out in rivulets that trickled down Jaemin's tail. Donghyuck curled his fingers, brushing that spongy spot inside that made the siren sob, his tongue lolling out to drape over his fangs. Above the slit, a strange appendage emerged. It did not look human at all, but then again, Jaemin was far from being human. It was akin to an octopi tentacle, minus the suckers that said beasts had, thick at the base and tapering to a pointed tip, ridged along its length with subtle, pulsing veins. It writhed subtly, seeking friction, the tip oozing a clear fluid that matched the slick from his slit. Donghyuck's eyes widened, the sight making his mouth water. He wrapped his free hand around it, the foreign extension coiling instinctively around his wrist like it had a mind of its own, warm and slick.
“Fuck, look at this thing.” Donghyuck chuckled in disbelief, stroking the tentacle-cock with firm pulls, feeling it thicken and pulse in his grip. Jaemin's hips jerked, the appendage tightening around his arm as pre-cum beaded at the tip. Emboldened by the drugged lust coursing through him, Donghyuck withdrew his fingers from the slit with a filthy pop, only to shove all four back in, stretching the siren's entrance wide. Jaemin screamed, a raw, throaty sound that mixed pain and bliss, his tail thrashing to coil around Donghyuck's hips, pulling him flush. The prince worked his hand deeper, knuckles breaching the tight ring, fisting Jaemin's slick channel with slow, deliberate twists. The walls fluttered around his wrist, sucking him in, the aphrodisiac slick making every slide burn with heightened pleasure. “Yes—oh gods, deeper, wreck me.” Jaemin babbled, his fangs grazing Donghyuck's jaw as he leaned up, forked tongue licking sweat from the prince's neck. Donghyuck obliged, punching his fist in and out with brutal rhythm, the squelching sounds lewd and unrelenting. He pumped the tentacle harder, thumb pressing into the sensitive underside where ridges met base, making it spasm and leak profusely. Jaemin's body was a temple of unnatural perfection. Donghyuck paused his fisting to drag his lips over the siren's hip bone, nipping at the skin there, then lower to where scales began, adoring the seamless merge of man and monster.
Jaemin's cries grew frantic; a second voice emerging from his throat echoed around the cave, phantom-like… similar to a weeping woman’s. The tentacle writhed wildly in Donghyuck's hand, the tip probing at his palm like it sought entry. The siren's slit clenched vise-like around the invading fist, milking it as waves of pleasure built. Donghyuck twisted his wrist, grinding against that inner spot until Jaemin shattered, his body convulsing. The alien cock erupted, spurting thick ropes of cum that splattered across Donghyuck's chest and Jaemin's own belly, pulsing rhythmically as it rode out the orgasm. Slick gushed around Donghyuck's arm, drenching him further, the smell of it amplifying his own need to a fever pitch.
But Donghyuck wasn't done. It didn’t feel right; he needed more. He yanked his fist free with a wet schlick. Jaemin's entrance left gaping and twitching, an obscene display of stretched folds glistening in the moonlight. Unable to wait, Donghyuck withdrew his fist and positioned himself, straddling Jaemin’s tail, the head of his cock nudging the now-gaping hole. Jaemin's tail lifted instinctively, the slit presented like an offering, the dripping entrance sucked at him greedily, and with a grunt, Donghyuck thrust in, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth motion. The heat was overwhelming, Jaemin's inner walls massaging his length like a living trap. “S—so good.” Donghyuck panted, gripping Jaemin's hips hard enough to bruise. “Jaemin, i—it feels so good.”
Jaemin's cry echoed off the rocks, a mix of pain and ecstasy. “Move, prince. Fuck me like I know you want to.” Then his mouth was on Donghyuck’s again, cutting off any more useless rambling that got in the way of his purpose; getting bread nice and full. The tips of his tongue wrapped around Donghyuck's as he adjusted to the overwhelming sensation. And Donghyuck didn't need to be told twice, he snapped his hips forward, pounding into the slick heat with relentless force. Water splashed around them with each thrust, Jaemin's tail spasming wildly, scales scraping against Donghyuck's thighs. The siren's claws raked down his back, drawing red lines that burned deliciously. Donghyuck's hands roamed Jaemin's waist, adoring the arch of his spine, the way his sunlight hair stuck to sweat-damp skin. He leaned over, biting the siren's shoulder hard, drawing blood that his tongue lapped up, whatever was in it sending fresh jolts of adrenaline through him. He grunted, one hand snaking around to grip the spent tentacle again, squeezing until it stirred back to life, coiling around his fingers.
Donghyuck angled his thrusts, hitting that spot inside Jaemin over and over, making the siren sob with pleasure. Jaemin's fangs grazed his neck again, this time biting deep enough to wound, drinking the prince’s blood as if it satisfied ancient thirst. He pounded relentlessly, the slap of skin on scales mixing with Jaemin's broken moans. The siren's body trembled under him, pale skin marked with handprints and bites, proof of Donghyuck's animalistic worship. He reached under, fingers dipping back into the slit alongside his cock, stretching it further, feeling himself through the thin membrane. Jaemin sobbed, pushing back desperately. “Come inside me.” Jaemin demanded, voice breaking. “Fill my womb, prince. Make me yours, and we will be bound for eternity.”
The words pushed Donghyuck over the edge, fisting the base of Jaemin’s cock while his other hand rubbed Jaemin's scales in reverent strokes. The siren’s scream broke with a guttural cry, his hole spasming around Donghyuck's length, appendage pulsing in his grip ready to spill another load onto the rocks below. The clench pushed Donghyuck over, his cock kicking deep inside as he flooded Jaemin's womb with hot cum. Jaemin followed with a shuddering wail, his own release splattering across Donghyuck's hand and stomach. They rode out the waves together, breaths mingling in the salty air, bodies locked in the aftershocks.
They collapsed together, Donghyuck still buried inside, his hands gently tracing over Jaemin’s celestial form; over golden curls, down a pale chest. As their bodies stilled, Jaemin’s shimmering tail coiled possessively around Donghyuck, binding him in an embrace both tender and inescapable. The strange haze that Jaemin had given him ebbed in slow pulses, leaving behind a deep, satiated ache. Water crept up, cool and silken, slipping over them as Jaemin’s fangs gleamed in the shadows. A sly smile that promised things his mind wouldn’t be able to comprehend. “Sleep now, my prince.” Donghyuck’s limbs resisted movement, but truth be told, he didn’t want to move, much less leave the siren’s side; his heart ached with the thought of it. He watched as the ocean wrapped around them, tucking him to sleep under Jaemin’s claim on him. He wasn’t repulsed by what he had done, much less frightened. He was simply exhausted and longing for a well deserved rest. Donghyuck lay beside Jaemin, surrendering to the deep, knowing somehow he had been reborn and remade by his creature and the waves.