Where Moon Meets Sea

by Charmander

Summary:

With humankind’s suspicion of witches on the rise, Park Jimin decides it’s time to leave behind the cramped tenements of his home city and carve out a new life for himself. A far-off swamp with a long-abandoned hut seems like the perfect place to start over and practice his magic, safe and uninterrupted.

But the waters here run deep, their secrets even deeper. And one such secret seems very, very interested in luring Jimin into its grasp.

Chapter 1

Notes:

Uh??? Surprise! This fic was absolutely unplanned and unintentional. It was an idea that came to me suddenly and then just burst out of me in, like, a week. Literally don't know what possessed me but here we are KAJDKJFDK it was supposed to be porn without plot and then............ yeah.

I know it's a few days after his birthday, but in my head I always viewed this as Jungkook's birthday fic since I knew I'd be posting it close to the day and this is one of my favorite Jungkooks I've ever written 🥹 so happy belated JK day!!!!!

Uhh, I don't have many notes for once, other than:
1) I know that classic sirens in mythology are, like, feathery bird people LMAO but this uses the more modern interpretation of them being more like merpeople, so... yeah, that's all.
2) If Jimin sleeping with a fishman and sometimes playing with his tail (if you know what I mean) freaks you out, then maybe don't read this AJSKDJFKD I swear it's a lot more wholesome than it sounds, though.

 

˗ˏˋ☾´ˎ˗

 

A hiss slips through Jimin’s teeth as he pulls his hand away from the weathered wooden walls of an overgrown hut. He grips his pointer finger with his other hand, squeezing around the splinter there and pouting his lower lip out.

He steps deeper into the hut as he presses his finger to his mouth and sucks at the splinter, eyes darting around the small, ramshackle space. With a little time and a lot of magic, he can fix this place up into a home for himself. It’s already better than the tenements back in the city. Here, he’s right in the heart of nature, everything he needs for his spells at the tips of his fingers.

Fewer eyes on him too. No one to judge what he does or wants to do.

Leaving behind the sagging steps and the door that hangs on a single, rusted hinge, Jimin ducks inside where the roof droops low. Some of the windows are shattered, leaving sharp edges like jagged, broken teeth. From a distance, this place looked like little more than the hunched back of a massive, green beast, the roof covered in vines and haunted by the shadows of massive mangrove trees that surround it.

Jimin slips the strap of his bag off over his head and sets it on a rickety table in the middle of the room. It sways under the weight of his grimoire while Jimin rubs at a knot in his shoulder. The vines above continue around the rest of the hut like a giant’s arms hugging the building, guarding it from the elements. It hasn’t done the best job of that, though, given the pockmarked, dull grey of the wood, and telltale signs of insects infesting in the absence of a keeper.

“Well, what do we think?” he asks out loud before he returns to working on the splinter, managing to get his teeth on it and pull it out. He spits it out to the side and then licks away the droplet of blood it leaves behind.

The floor creaks behind him, bare feet padding across rotten wood to stand beside Jimin. Taehyung places his hands on his hips as he looks around, nose wrinkled. He wears nothing but a ragged pair of shorts and a shredded sleeveless shirt, looking every bit like he just climbed out of the swamp himself, his hair a wild mess.

“Could be worse,” Taehyung says with a shrug. “I’ll spend most of my time outside anyway, so you have fun living in this… lovely little home you’ve found for us.”

“Better than being crushed into a tiny room like a sardine in the city,” Jimin says as he makes his way over to the fireplace and squats down in front of it. An old cauldron sits on its side, the handle broken on one side and bent at a strange angle. He picks it up and turns to Taehyung. “First spell in the new house?”

Taehyung arches a brow at him, then steps back and reaches into the pouch hanging at his hip. Every time he moves, his skin glints in the sunlight that manages to trickle through filthy windows. He can mostly pass for a human in this form, but the iridescent scales all across his body give him away, as well as the slitted black pupils.

Luckily, there’s no one around them out here, so Jimin’s loyal familiar doesn’t have to hide away in his snake form quite as much.

Taehyung squats down and blows at the floor, dust flying. He brings his hand up to cover his face, then frowns at Jimin, who quickly sets the cauldron next to his grimoire, tempting fate as the table sways even more. Without pause or consideration for where the dust will go, Jimin points at the floor in front of Taehyung.

A gust of wind rips through the broken parts of the window behind Jimin and rushes across the floor. Whispers fill the room as the wind swirls, Jimin’s cloak whipping up around him, his hood plastered to the side of his face. Anyone else would think it’s simply the sigh of decaying wood under pressure, but Jimin can recognize distinct voices within the wind, though he never knows what they say, before it quiets back down.

All that is left is the croaking of frogs outside and the dull drone of insects that call the swamp home. And a freshly cleaned floor, wood left bare for them to draw their spell circle on.

Jimin smiles before he looks at Taehyung—hair blown back, dust covering his clothes and a frown on his face as he stares up at Jimin, blinking his dark eyes at him slowly.

“Oops,” Jimin says, and then he points at Taehyung, wind swirling around him again, his hair flying around him, clothes fluttering until he’s mostly dusted off. Taehyung’s hair stands on end as he glares at Jimin, then he slowly pats it back down. “Well, the floor is clean now.”

“Thanks,” Taehyung grumbles before he pulls a piece of chalk from his pouch and starts drawing.

Jimin continues wandering through the hut. There isn’t much to explore, but he’s curious about whoever the former tenant was. They clearly haven’t been here in a long time, leaving the place to rot away, cobwebs filling every corner and dust motes dancing through the air. It smells musty too, especially when he gets closer to the bed shoved into the corner.

“You’re not actually thinking about sleeping on that, are you?” Taehyung asks, on all fours as he stretches to draw the other side of the spell circle, carefully shaping each and every symbol. “You’ll be eaten alive by bed bugs, I can almost guarantee.”

“I have a spell for that too,” Jimin says, and then he plops right onto the edge of the bed and kicks his feet out. The bed creaks and bows beneath his weight, and he grimaces, teeth bared as he glances down. Jimin quickly pops back up and places his hands on his hips as Taehyung rises as well, amused by Jimin’s optimism about their current predicament.

It’s still better than the tenements. They just won’t be able to settle in quite as comfortably as he hoped without putting in a good bit of work first.

“Well, at least we have something to drink if we get thirsty while cleaning.” Taehyung gestures at a crooked nightstand, which leans heavily on the bed to keep itself upright. Atop it sits a half-empty bottle of strange, murky liquid.

Jimin scrunches his face at it, then nods at Taehyung. “We should get started,” he says as he snatches up the broken cauldron and sets it in the middle of the circle. He hears another creak and then a snap, and he looks back just in time to see the table with his grimoire bend and break, one leg giving out and sending the whole thing crashing to the floor.

He stares at it for a moment, lip between his teeth as he sucks in air. There’s a click of Taehyung’s tongue before they both look at each other. Taehyung shakes his head back and forth, lips pursed and eyes fluttering in irritation.

“If I wasn’t already bound to you, Park Jimin,” he says, pointing a finger as he towers over Jimin’s squatting form, “I swear to the gods, I would have bound myself to a handsome, rich noble instead.”

 

˗ˏˋ☾´ˎ˗

 

Despite the hut’s rotten log foundation quite literally sinking into the muck below, Jimin finds this place promising. He hops past the three steps that lead into the hut and lands directly on the soft ground below, afraid that any weight on the steps might break them. His bare feet sink ever so slightly as he takes quick steps toward the canopy of trees nearby.

The hut sits near the edge of a clearing, a winding pathway in one direction that leads back to the road that brought them here, and what looks like a long unused footpath toward the water. The air is thick with the scent of saltwater, decaying leaves, and blooming flowers. So much better than the fetid streets of the city.

There’s a small pond within view of the hut’s kitchen window, and Jimin stops by it to study the broken remnants of what he thinks used to be a dock. He squats down and pulls something from within the murky water. A thick, waterlogged rope rests in his hands, the end of it frayed as though it had been cut or ripped apart. Once upon a time, it was likely used to hold a boat in place, so Jimin abandons it without any further thought and continues toward the trees.

A snake winds around Jimin’s neck like a scarf, making himself at home there as the newly repaired cauldron swings from Jimin’s arm. The snake’s tongue flicks out, his head rising to peek around the mangroves, searching for threats or scouting for good areas to harvest in.

“Calm down, Tae,” Jimin says, gently pressing two fingers atop the snake’s head until he relaxes, tongue darting out again. “I already set up wards that will tell us if anything gets too close. We’re safe here.”

His spells can’t reach too far yet—he’s not that powerful—but it covers a wide enough area for him to find water and catch shellfish. Further north, the swamp meets with a river from the nearby mountains, crashing with the saltwater area the hut is in to create brackish waters. Most of his harvesting will have to be done there if he wants any kinds of berries or other fruits besides the mangrove apples he’s already spotted, so he’ll have to take a short walk.

But that’s fine. He likes exploring, and he has all day long to do whatever he wants here. He has no responsibilities except those he chooses to have now.

“You know, this would have been easier if you hadn’t turned back into a snake,” Jimin says as he stops at one of the mangrove trees. It looks promising, the twisted branches strong and thick enough to hold him up as he climbs. With an enchantment on his cauldron, he barely feels the weight of it at all.

The cauldron dangles from his arm as he makes his way up, shaking hair from his eyes as he looks to the canopy. He wiggles his way through the tangled mess, up to the top where he can find a number of bromeliads, their cup-like structures holding water from recent rains. Situating himself on the branches so he can comfortably straddle a particularly thick one, he snaps his fingers and makes the cauldron hover in front of him, then begins to tip one of the bromeliads until water spills from it into the cauldron.

Nothing about this is efficient, but Jimin had foolishly come here without much of a plan, so he simply has to make do with what he has. After years in the city, never fitting in, always being the outsider, he was too eager to get out.

He doesn’t want to take too much water from these plants for the sake of their own health, but it will do for now. At least until he has a better way to filter and boil large amounts of water in the future.

Jimin continues scooting along the branches until the cauldron is nearly full, and then he snaps his fingers again and lets it descend on its own as he climbs down. Taehyung tucks his little snake head beneath Jimin’s shirt to protect himself from any rogue leaves or branches that might hit him, and then Jimin lands on solid ground again with a thud. The cauldron floats right into his hands.

He pauses a moment and turns back to the mangroves he had climbed, bowing to them and whispering a thank you for the water before he leaves. Never take from nature without letting it know that its sacrifice is appreciated. That’s Jimin’s cardinal rule.

The sun is well on its way to setting by the time Jimin finds his way back to the clearing, Taehyung’s tongue flicking out to smell the air again. Jimin breathes in the salty, humid air, cauldron hugged to his stomach, a smile on his face. Even full of water, it won’t be too hard to carry this back, the enchantment still partially in place so the cauldron carries most of its own weight.

Taehyung’s head rises up suddenly, his tongue rapidly darting in and out, and Jimin freezes in place. He curls his toes into the mud, his pulse racing when he hears a low humming from somewhere deeper in the swamp. It almost sounds like someone singing, a beautiful, lilting sound that drifts through the mangroves and across murky waters. Beautiful, yet haunting.

Something stings Jimin’s collarbone. He sucks in a sharp breath through his nose as he looks down, glaring at where Taehyung sinks his fangs into Jimin—a warning from him to hurry up and get back to the hut.

That’s all Jimin needs in order to know there’s some kind of danger nearby. He sprints for their home, an oppressive silence settling over the swamp. Every living thing has gone quiet, nothing but distant singing and Jimin’s frantic footsteps filling the air now.

He’s out of breath by the time he gets back, some of the water from the cauldron covering the front of his shirt now. At least the singing seems to have stopped as he squats and sets the cauldron down, head bowed to catch his breath. Taehyung unwinds from around Jimin’s neck and slides down his back, then flops to the ground.

Strange, unidentified sounds and creepy creatures are nothing new to Jimin, but those are usually things he’s summoned or prepared for. Back home, he had complete control over everything—most of the time, at least. This place is foreign to him, though. He has no idea what’s out here.

“Hello?”

Jimin yelps and leaps back from the cauldron, tripping over himself and hitting the ground hard. All air rushes from his lungs, and he can hear someone let out an “oof” of commiseration. His face reddens as realization sinks in, and he slowly props himself up on his elbows to search for the witness.

In front of him stands a young human man, wide eyes studying Jimin and hands outstretched like he wants to help but isn’t sure he should touch Jimin. He shuffles forward, black hair curling along the most perfect nose Jimin has ever seen and a toothy smile appearing.

“So sorry,” the man says when he finally decides to reach out. Jimin takes his hand and grunts when he’s pulled to his feet. “I live just down the road. You might have seen the farmlands on your way here from the village? I work there and was in the fields when I saw you come down this way. I was hoping I wasn’t too late…”

“Too late?” Jimin asks as he brushes himself off. He glances around in search of Taehyung, then back toward the mangroves as though expecting that voice to start singing again. It was probably just this guy humming on his way here and Jimin confused himself in his panic, making himself think it came from the other direction.

“Yeah, it’s— Oh, I’m Hoseok, by the way,” the man says, snatching Jimin’s hand back up to shake it, and then he lets go just as quickly. He shoves his hands in his pockets, bouncing on his toes. He seems almost giddy to be here, or maybe he’s anxious, judging by the way his eyes keep darting around the clearing. “I wanted to check on you because it’s really dangerous out here. There are… a lot of things out here that people aren’t prepared for. What are you even doing here?”

Jimin smiles and gestures at the hut. “I live here.”

Hoseok stares at the house, mouth hanging open. He takes a long moment to really absorb what he’s seeing—every decrepit inch of the hut, the busted door, the broken windows. Blinking a few times, Hoseok finally looks at Jimin again.

“Do you need help?” he asks, and Jimin titters, hand clapped over his mouth. “This place is— I mean, no one has lived here for years. Are you… safe?”

Jimin nods, placing his hands on his hips as he keeps smiling. Now that the panic has faded, he just finds this hilarious. This must be the strangest thing Hoseok has encountered in months, maybe even years. Without knowing Jimin, it doesn’t make sense to see a seemingly sweet and innocent young man, all bright-eyed and plump-cheeked, living in a swamp alone.

Hell, even knowing Jimin, it probably wouldn’t make sense.

“Oh, you have a bite,” Hoseok says, pointing at Jimin’s collarbone. At first, he just seems surprised, but then concern washes over his face and he gasps. “Oh! You have a bite! That could be poisonous! There are so many deadly things out here—”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Jimin assures him, waving one hand casually to dismiss Hoseok. “It was just my… pet snake. Thank you, though. I appreciate your concern. About everything.”

Hoseok stares at him, eyes wide and curious as he glances over Jimin from head to toe. He nods slowly, and then he shrugs and smiles, still perplexed. “Well, um, I’m glad you’re okay. If you’re… really living here,” he says with another uncertain glance at the hut, “I’m happy to be your friendly neighbor. I can bring eggs, milk, cheese, vegetables. We have just about anything you could need.”

“Oh.” Jimin straightens up, chest puffed up and smile widening. “Well, thank you. That’s really kind of you. I don’t… have anything to offer in return yet. But I’m very good at making herbal remedies. Maybe once I’ve settled in, I can trade you.”

“Sounds perfect,” Hoseok says before he glances back at the setting sun, then deeper into the swamp. His smile falls, and Jimin’s heart sinks with it. A chill runs up his spine, the hairs on his neck standing up. Hoseok’s stare makes him want to turn around and look behind himself, but he forces himself not to. “Please be careful here. This place is really dangerous. And there are… animals here that sometimes hurt people.”

“Like what?” Jimin asks, the words spilling from him, his heart pounding.

“Things. In the water.” Hoseok’s throat bobs as he gulps, his arms wrapping around himself. None of the bubbly personality shows through anymore. He seems terrified, ready to turn and bolt back up the pathway. “There are rumors of monsters. Sea monsters.”

Jimin arches his brow at Hoseok, cocking his head at him playfully. “In a swamp?”

“Well, we are on the coast here. The tidal channels run right to the sea,” Hoseok says with a shrug as he takes a hesitant step back. He looks toward the path again. “You never know. People have gone missing here, though. People have seen things. If you ever make your way back into the village past my farm, the people there have plenty of stories. So just be very, very careful. And if you need to stay at the farm until this hut is…”

He looks at it, searching for some way to describe what it isn’t, currently.

“Livable?” Jimin offers, and Hoseok nods curtly.

“Yes. That.”

Jimin waves him off again. “I’ll be fine. I promise. Thank you for the warnings, but I promise I know how to take care of myself. I will take you up on that offer for milk, though. I love milk.”

A creak sounds from inside the hut, and Hoseok’s eyes immediately snap to it. Jimin hops right over the cauldron and heads for the steps, nearly stepping on the first one before he remembers it will likely snap beneath him.

“You should head back before it’s completely dark,” Jimin says as he laces his hands behind himself, swaying slightly, face scrunched up in the biggest smile he can manage. Anything to disarm Hoseok and get him to go before he realizes too much. “If it’s so dangerous here, you probably don’t want to be here after dark.”

“Well, yes, but at least I’m not near the water.”

Jimin slowly nods along with Hoseok’s words. He doesn’t entertain Hoseok’s concern any longer, eager to send him off before this man tries harder to convince him to leave. Jimin passed through the village and the farmlands on his way here. He could have chosen to stay in the tavern for a few nights while trying to fix this place up, but he doesn’t want that.

He wants to be here. Alone and free.

“Okay, well,” Hoseok says as he begins walking backward down the path. “If you need anything, you know where to find me. You would have passed right by my house on your way here, so… don’t hesitate. And good luck. With everything.”

Jimin nods again, bouncing on his toes, his patience wearing thin. He waves at Hoseok as he begins to disappear into the dusky distance. Jimin turns to the hut, but is quickly pulled back by a voice again.

“Wait, I never asked your name!” Hoseok calls back to him, hands cupped around his mouth.

“It’s Jimin!”

Hoseok pauses for a moment, then nods and gives Jimin a thumbs up. “Nice to meet you, Jimin! Don’t die tonight!”

Jimin gives him a thumbs up back, watching until Hoseok turns around and heads for the road at a hurried pace. Once he’s out of sight, Jimin looks into the inky blackness inside the hut. A flicker of flame appears and casts an orange glow over Taehyung’s face.

“Humans are so annoying,” he says, staring in Hoseok’s direction as his eyes narrow, and then he smiles at Jimin. “Not you. Most of the time.”

“Well, you damn near made me shit my pants over some random farmer coming to check on us,” Jimin says, head shaking at Taehyung, who now leans in the doorway of the hut with his arms crossed. He sticks his forked tongue out at Jimin. “You can carry the cauldron in now that the enchantment has worn off. Make up for biting me.”

He darts into the hut, snatching the candle from Taehyung’s hand and setting it on their newly fixed table. Jimin squats down in front of the fireplace again, rubbing his hands together over the wood they had gathered until a spark ignites between his fingers. Flame bursts to life in front of him, and Taehyung joins him with the cauldron to begin boiling the water.

It will be a slow start to get settled here, but Jimin has a good feeling. This place called to him from the moment he saw it. When he came here months ago to gather ingredients he couldn’t find in the city, he knew he had to come back.

He doesn’t know why or what about this place kept haunting him, but he would dream about it every night until he decided to return. He couldn’t get it off his mind. This place compels him, and now that he’s here, he just wants to sit and coexist with the nature here, until it spills all of its secrets to him.

Every dream he had made him feel as though this place needs someone like him to listen to it. It called out, over and over and over, and Jimin was the only one to answer.

For some reason, he is meant to be here.

 

˗ˏˋ☾´ˎ˗

 

Work on the hut goes quickly with the use of a few spells and the summoning of some helpers. There’s a spell circle in the middle of the floor indefinitely for now, Jimin and Taehyung constantly using it to fix up yet another broken object in their home. In the week since they started working, they’ve managed to fix up the cupboards in the tiny kitchen area, the nightstand, and the windows.

“Should we draw a spell circle around the bed?” Taehyung asks as he and Jimin stand around its crooked frame and ruined mattress. “I don’t want to drag that thing across the floor just to fix it. I’m not even using the bed, so I’m not that committed.”

“Gee, thanks.” Jimin pops his lips together, hands on his hips as he inspects the bed. It’s heavier than it looks, and the space here is so small and cramped already, shifting it into the spell circle to piece it back together will be a nightmare. “Do you think Yoongi would help us?”

Taehyung snorts. “If you keep summoning him for stuff like this, he’s going to blacklist you from ever summoning another demon again.”

“Boo.” Jimin groans and throws his head back. He turns on his heel and snatches his bag off the table. “Well, we’ll worry about that later. It’s usable. At least I got rid of the bugs. And rodents. And… everything.”

He squats down in front of the open cupboards, digging through his bag to find all of his ingredients—his jars of herbs and crystals, his tools, his mortar and pestle. As he reaches in, it engulfs his entire arm, items finding their own way to his hand as he visualizes them. Moving out to this place would have been a nightmare without enchantments, but a bottomless bag is just about the only thing a witch with a hoarding habit needs.

A banging sounds from across the room, and Jimin looks over his shoulder to see Taehyung making an attempt to beat the door into submission. He pauses to meet Jimin’s eyes, then shrugs.

“We have to fix it eventually,” he says.

“I don’t think slamming a hammer against a rusty hinge is helping—”

But the banging continues, rattling the hut until it feels like the whole place might collapse. It roars through Jimin’s head, but he just continues tucking away his supplies. He stands up to stretch his legs, setting his bag on the counter and looking out the window, out to the mangroves and the water, and the singing.

They’ve heard it almost every night since meeting Hoseok, so Jimin’s theory that it was just the human humming on his way to see them has been swiftly shot down. He feels mesmerized when he looks out there, wondering what else lives within this place. He just has to know.

Last night, he had another dream, but this time he was in the water, submerged in murky depths, eyes stinging with floating debris as he turned in circles to find something. The frustrating part of it all is that he doesn’t know what he was looking for, just that he knew he needed to find it. All he could see were the spindly fingers of underwater weeds as they danced around him, almost like they were alive and reaching out to him, tickling along his bare skin as he sank deeper and deeper.

With every second that passed, the few rays of sunlight that penetrated the water grew further and further away from him until he was in complete darkness. He never felt like he was drowning, just sinking and lost and frantic to find whatever was calling out to him.

And then the singing began again, and that’s when he woke up.

Even when awake, though, the singing didn’t stop, so Jimin tells himself he only dreamed of that because he could actually hear it even while unconscious. At this point, he might have to investigate the noise just so it will let him get a full night of sleep.

A sudden screech rips across the small space of the hut, like metal bending and folding beneath itself, wood splintering and cracking. He turns just in time to see the door falling from its one, sad hinge, and crashing down the steps outside.

Taehyung stands in the doorway with his hammer raised, staring at the door as it hits the ground with a thud and a splat. His head slowly turns to look at Jimin, and then he shrugs.

“Well,” Taehyung says, his smile a little sheepish. He brushes his hair back from his face, but the unruly, dirty blonde locks just fall right back into his eyes. “We needed a new one anyway.”

Jimin heaves a sigh, fingers tapping along the counter, and then he shrugs right back. “Okay, well, let’s break it apart and put it in the spell circle, I guess.”

 

 

Once the door is fixed and set back in place—now with two hinges, which Jimin shaped in the spell circle by scavenging broken bits of metal tools in the hut—they get to work on crafting traps for shellfish and situating them in the water within view of the kitchen window. They can only survive for so long on the dried foods Jimin had packed with him when they left the city.

In the northern, freshwater areas of the swamp, they can find a stream to gather water more efficiently, though for now they have Taehyung working on tightly weaving a basket and lining it with leaves to collect rainwater.

While he works on that, Jimin takes a much less sturdy basket and heads out into the tangles of the swamp to find mangrove apples and maybe an edible fern or two. He has studied his plants well enough to recognize anything and everything he knows they can consume safely, and by the time the sun has set, he has a decent collection of apples and leaves and fleshy greens.

His arms are covered in bits of dirt and plant debris from reaching into the water to harvest, muck stuck under his nails and coated on his skin all the way up his ankles. It’s messy work, but he loves it so much more than simply walking to the market and having to make up excuses as to why he needs so many herbs.

Back in the city, there is no freedom for people like Jimin. It’s difficult enough to be registered and approved as a witch even when one never steps out of line and follows every rule. But magic, to him, is boring when it’s so limited. He grew tired of casting benevolent little spells to heal or repair things, or basic enchantments like he used on his bag or cauldron.

He was never allowed to explore or test his limits. Witches are carefully monitored in cities, their magic limited according to the regulations of each particular region. Jimin was never even officially registered since his magic wasn’t considered strong enough to be a danger yet. He never passed any of the tests required to start up his own shop or practice.

But that’s exactly how he wanted it. No one has any right to know what he can or can’t do with his own magic. And they especially don’t get to tell him what to do. The only people he has ever hurt with his magic deserved it.

Why should government officials get to decide whether or not he gets revenge against people who have wronged him or others? Why should they get to know what he used to do in his cramped room in the tenements? It’s no one’s business but his and Taehyung’s. No one needs to know if they’re huddled around a circle of candles and a pretty demon who grants all their wishes.

The squish of mud around Jimin’s feet brings him back to the present, the earthy and slightly sulfuric smell of the swamp wafting up around him. Some people might find it unpleasant, but Jimin only feels closer to nature when each of his senses are dominated by it.

He sees twisted and gnarled branches, tangled roots and decomposed plant matter piled along a nigh invisible path. Green and brown and turbid greys. Hears the splash of fish and the hum of the insects that they leap and hunt for. Feels the humid, heavy air as it presses in on him. Tastes salt on the air.

The clearing is a little less overpowering than when he explores the labyrinth of mangroves, but the swamp’s personality never leaves him, even when he’s safely locked away in his hut.

Wiping his feet against the thick, knotted grass at the edge of the mangrove forest, Jimin decides in that moment that they’ll need to rig up some kind of water system outside of the hut for a quick way to wash off before stepping inside.

Jimin pauses to breathe in the fresh air, eyes closed against a slight breeze. The moon is so bright tonight, he should gather himself a jar of moon water before the full moon passes, maybe cast a few spells that require a little more power. He can draw on the moon’s energy tonight. It lights up the clearing so beautifully, he could work by moonlight alone, accompanied by the fireflies that float by so serenely.

He hitches his basket up to the crook of his elbow and takes one step toward the hut before he hears something from deep within the swamp. Jimin glances back toward the mangroves, then at the hut again. His heart skips when he realizes that he hears that singing again.

Just like the first night and every night since, singing flows over the swamps from somewhere in its depths, and it draws Jimin in like a spell. His foot shifts in the mud, sinking in slightly as water rushes up around his ankle. His mouth runs dry, a nervous pulse beating through him. With one more glance back at the hut, Jimin ignores his better judgment and takes another step toward the depths.

Then another.

And another.

Before he knows it, the canopy has hidden him from the moon again, the mangrove roots curling around him as he squeezes between them. That voice grows louder and louder with every step, the only other sound being that of the quick, sharp breaths Jimin takes and the squish of muck beneath his feet.

It’s like there’s a tether tied to the center of his chest, dragging him deeper and deeper. Every tug of that tether is another thud of his heart, pounding so hard he feels it in his throat, in his skull, all the way to the tips of his fingers. Blood rushes in his ears as he breaks free from the mangroves, his foot slipping in the mud and nearly sending him into a pool of water.

His arm lashes out to grab at the trees, catching himself just in time to scramble back to safety, his basket swinging dangerously around his wrist now. He has no idea how deep the water is here or what’s in it. The mangroves split away from each other enough here for him to see the stagnant surface of the water, but he sees nothing that should be the cause of that singing. He doesn’t even hear it anymore.

Jimin squints into the darkness, scanning the area in hopes of finding some flicker of candlelight or lantern light. Anything to indicate that there’s someone else camping out in this swamp for some reason. Maybe it’s just a trick of the wind as it rushes up the tidal channels from the sea.

Nothing makes sense here, but that’s why Jimin came here in the first place. He wants to understand it, so he pushes on.

A loud splash echoes through the stark silence, tearing a gasp from Jimin as he grips the mangrove root tighter, his eyes bugging out of his head. He can see something in the water, just a slight bump in the surface and ripples emanating outward from it. It rises more, the sound of singing beginning to fill the air again.

Jimin leans out over the water, furrowing his brows at whatever it is that swims ever closer to him. He’s outside of his wards right now. There’s nothing to warn him about what this is or what it will do to him.

And then it ducks back beneath the water.

Fear spikes through Jimin as he turns to pull himself back to solid land, the water sloshing behind him as that thing moves at a rapid pace. He feels something cool and wet wrap around his ankle and tug, and Jimin screams. He throws his basket toward the water, toward whatever is holding onto him, wrenching himself free and lunging into the embrace of the mangrove roots again.

His breath hits his lungs in painful waves as he runs, struggling through the claustrophobic squeeze of overgrowth until he manages to break through the worst of it. Plants whip across his face and sting everywhere on his skin, his toes cracking against a root as he trips.

Jimin spills out of the mangroves and into the clearing, landing chest first into wet grass. Filthy water splashes into his mouth, but he pushes himself back to his feet and sprints, no longer held back by the swamp’s grappling limbs.

Behind him, he can hear the singing again, this time louder. This time, almost more like a wail.

Tears rush down Jimin’s cheeks and he doesn’t even know why, but they don’t stop until he bursts through the front door of the hut and crashes to the floor at Taehyung’s feet. Jimin whips around to slam the door shut, his familiar’s wide eyes watching, slightly offended at the intrusion.

Just before the door closes and Taehyung steps forward to slide the lock into place, a shriek rings out across the swamp—loud, chilling, agonized.

The moment that it stops, Jimin throws himself to the floor again and lets a sob rip from his chest.

 

˗ˏˋ☾´ˎ˗

 

Jimin stirs from his slumber to the feeling of paper slapping against his face and the sound of someone singsonging, “Wakey, wakey, human.”

He groans and rolls over to bury his face into the pillow, waving off the finger that pokes the back of his head. He feels the covers tug down past his shoulders, leaving him bare before he yanks them back up.

“Taehyung, stop!” Jimin swings blindly, smacking Taehyung’s hand away, but the second he touches it, Jimin feels white-hot pain rush up his arm. He gasps as he flips onto his back, eyes squeezed shut, hand clutched to his chest as his limb burns as though it’s been dipped in boiling hot oil. He feels the heat lick all the way up until it almost reaches his heart, and then it stops as suddenly as it began.

Jimin sucks in rapid breaths through rounded lips, his body going slightly numb to cope with the pain. Once his head stops spinning, he forces his eyes open and finds…

Not Taehyung.

Standing over him is a tall man with dark hair slicked back from his face, piercing eyes staring down at Jimin, lids slightly hooded as though he’s unamused by Jimin’s attempt to banish him. No one could banish him if they tried, truth be told, so Jimin can’t blame him for the judgment written across his face.

Because Kim Namjoon is no ordinary man. After all, an ordinary man wouldn’t be able to appear in the middle of a locked hut, unannounced, or make Jimin feel as though his arm was being used as tinder.

“What are you doing here?” Jimin asks as he rubs the sleep from his eyes, pushing himself halfway upright in his bed. The first signs of morning peek through his window, splotches of sunlight dappling the floor as it slowly crawls over distant mountains. Facing an archfiend at the crack of dawn is not what Jimin expected today.

Then again, he was almost drowned by a swamp monster last night, so is this really so implausible?

“Letter from Seokjin,” Namjoon says as he lifts a rather thick envelope, then tosses it onto Jimin’s nightstand, the wide sleeves of his deep red robes swishing about as he does.

“You’re delivering letters now?” Jimin smacks his lips together and glances around, then up to where he and Taehyung have begun replacing the basic structures of the hut, installing new rafters to keep the roof in place. Around one of the logs winds a snake, slowly unfurling itself until it drops onto the bed beside Jimin.

“Doing him a favor,” Namjoon says as he steps back and lets Jimin swing his legs off the bed. The archfiend looks around the floor and carefully picks his way across it, stepping over the piles of books scattered about. “He didn’t want to wait for it to be delivered after he heard about you abandoning everything to go live in a swamp. Why are you here?”

Jimin grumbles to himself as he stands up and shuffles across the room to the kitchen area. It’s littered with dishes from their hasty dinner last night, ingredients for both food and spells mixed together in a disorganized mess. He and Taehyung had spent most of the night studying, hence his desperate need to find a potion that can give him the energy he doesn’t have.

“Oh, hi, Taehyung,” Namjoon says as the floor creaks under the shifting weight of Taehyung turning from a snake into his human form. “How did he convince you to come here?”

Taehyung clicks his tongue, and Jimin can imagine him shrugging even though he doesn’t turn around to see, still on a quest to find his potions. “I kind of swore myself to him, so I’m stuck here.”

“I thought you agreed to a deal with him so you didn’t have to live in swamps anymore.”

“At least I have a witch to cast spells for me now. You win some, you lose some.”

Jimin blinks against the morning sun, picking up two small bottles and lifting them to the window to look through the liquids inside. He turns to Taehyung and finds him already back on the floor like he was last night, flipping through books.

“Is this the right one?” Jimin asks, lifting one of the jars of clear liquid and sloshing it around, and then he lifts the other. “Or this one? One of them is poison.”

Taehyung sits with his legs splayed in a wide V shape, his book laying open on the floor in front of him. He pauses, finger hovering over his spot on the page as he glances between the bottles, tongue flicking out before he points to the one in Jimin’s left hand.

Jimin glances at the bottle, eyes narrowed, and then he shrugs a shoulder and sets the other bottle back down. “Well, you know how to make the antidote if I need it. Bottoms up.”

As the other two men stare at him, Jimin tips his head back and lets the potion rush down his throat. There’s a slight burn, then a tingle, and then a pleasant buzz through his body. He waits a moment before Taehyung gives him a thumbs up and a questioning look, and Jimin nods. Not poison.

“Terrible decision-making, but I respect your nerve,” Namjoon says. “Anyway, I don’t have a lot of time to spend here, and I’ve done what I promised to do, so…” He places his hands on his hips and stares down at the books again, curiosity getting the best of him. “What are you two studying so diligently?”

“Swamp creatures,” Jimin and Taehyung say in unison. Taehyung gives the archfiend a comical smile before Jimin continues talking on his own. “We asked Yoongi to bring us some books so we could figure out what attacked me last night.”

Namjoon actually starts at that a bit, blinking in shock as he turns his full attention on Jimin. “Attacked you?”

“Something grabbed me,” Jimin explains as he picks up a mangrove apple—one of the few he has left since he threw the others at that creature last night—and bites into it. Seeds crunch beneath his teeth, a slight sour taste bursting through his mouth and rushing down his tongue. “No idea what it was, but it was big and I could see it watching me.”

Jimin swears it felt like a human hand around his ankle, but slimy and wet and webbed. It was webbed. He can’t find anything like that in books about swamp creatures. Nothing quite matches. Water nymphs are the closest, but Jimin has dealt with them more than a few times in his life. This doesn’t feel like nymph behavior.

Namjoon almost seems intrigued by their investigation, but then he takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay, well, good luck with that. Hope you don’t get eaten alive by whatever it is.”

He heads for the door, stepping over Taehyung before he pauses and turns back around. Namjoon’s nose wrinkles at the sight of the bed and the straw that sticks out of ragged sheets, as well as the stain at the foot of the bed that looks suspiciously like blood. He sighs, eyes fluttering in disbelief, and then snaps his fingers.

The bed shudders violently as its crooked legs snap into place, straightening out and making the bed stand nearly a whole foot taller. The sheet and blankets and straw all burst into flame, though the fire never seems to touch anything around them, contained within an invisible box as it burns orange-red. As the flames die down and fade into smoke before suddenly blinking out, it leaves behind a brand-new mattress and blankets, a fluffy pillow leaning at the wall at its head.

With a satisfied smile, Namjoon looks at Jimin and arches a brow. “You’re welcome,” he says, but he doesn’t give Jimin a chance to respond before he adds, “even though I did that for myself more than I did it for you. I can’t visit a place like this again while it’s in this condition.”

Jimin nods in acceptance. It has been pretty disgusting here, he can’t deny. They’ve done their best despite their circumstances, though.

“Well, thank you anyway,” Jimin says.

“I’m in a good mood.” Namjoon makes his way down the front steps, the rotted wood of each seeming to regress in age as he touches them. They creak and bow, then flatten out into new steps, sturdy and secure.

He must be in a really good mood to do all of this. Most of the time when Jimin sees Namjoon, it’s solely because he’s allowed himself to be summoned by Seokjin, the only witch he ever makes time for. Jimin has spent years trying to get into Namjoon’s good graces, but he’s never quite reached that level with him.

Someday, though. Because a deal with an archfiend is exactly what Jimin needs for his goals.

“How is Seokjin, by the way?” Jimin asks as he follows Namjoon outside, hopping confidently onto the top step and smiling when it doesn’t give way beneath him.

“Resting. We had a long night last night. I wore him out.” Namjoon twists this way and that, popping his back. “That’s why I’m in a good mood.”

“Oh.”

“I would have brought him with me, but I’m not sure he can walk right now.” Namjoon chuckles at himself, then turns around to give Taehyung a little wave through the door before turning his gaze back on Jimin again. “You should really clean up that kitchen and… everything else.”

Jimin nods, bare toes wiggling against the wooden steps as he breathes in the morning air. He closes his eyes against the rising sun, face scrunched up toward the east. When he opens his eyes again, Namjoon is gone, leaving Jimin alone in the clearing with nothing but the sound of frogs and insects as they all wake for the day.

Raindrops cling to the mats of grass covering the open space, the sky finally clear after it spent most of the night weeping on them. He’s glad Taehyung got their makeshift rain collector ready in time. Maybe today he should travel north for a little harvesting. He needs to make up for losing everything he got yesterday.

His eyes drift across the clearing and over to the mangroves, right back to the space between them where he can work his way into the canopy and down to the water. Something compels him to look, his eyes fixating on a little brown speck in the distance.

Jimin hops off the steps and pads his way over to the trees. His body tries to resist moving even as he forces himself forward. Whatever grabbed him last night, it seems to stick to deeper waters. If he keeps his distance, he should be fine.

Hopefully.

With a glance back at the hut, Jimin hurries forward and slips between the trees, gripping a root tightly as he leans in to see what’s there. His heart stops.

Right in the pathway near a channel of water sits his basket, most of what he harvested yesterday placed neatly inside of it, as if he had never thrown it in the first place. His mouth hangs open in sheer, dumbfounded shock as he squats down beside it. A little piece of him wonders if this is a trap, but when he scans the swamp, he doesn’t feel watched or hunted.

He doesn’t know what to think as he picks up the basket and stands back up, staring down at the pile of mangrove apples. Was it that thing that grabbed him that brought this back? Someone else?

Jimin’s eyes dart up to look deeper into the swamp, right toward the same spot where he had been attacked last night.

He should go back and get Taehyung. He shouldn’t go alone.

But then he hears the slightest hum from within the swamp, deep within where the mangrove canopy blocks the sun, casting him into darkness. He hears the hum, the song, and that tether seizes his heart again.

And it pulls.

 

Gnarled roots snake across the ground as Jimin walks, their surfaces slick with moisture and causing him to slip as he goes. Water drips from the canopy above, soaked from the overnight rain, the sky peeking through just enough to cast a mosaic of sunlight and shadow across Jimin’s path. The ground seems to suck him in with every step, forcing him to lift his feet high each time to free them.

Logically, he knows he should turn back, but he can’t seem to care about logic right now. That tether, that compulsion, forces him onwards, deeper and deeper once again.

The swamp has gone silent, holding its breath, like the trees themselves are trying to hide from whatever this song is. Jimin is the only thing here that’s foolish enough to walk right toward it, right back to the edge of the pond where he was grabbed. He can see where he scrambled to safety last night, the mud gouged out where he had fallen.

This time, he sets his basket down before he squats at the edge of the water. The song stops as soon as he does. There’s a splash from somewhere to Jimin’s right and all of his instincts rush back into his body, his mind waking up from whatever trance that song had put him in. Jimin blinks, gasps, and is just about to turn and run when something breaks the surface of the water.

Several feet out in stagnant depths, two big eyes stare back at him, a head of wet, dark hair poking out of the water. Even in the low light of the swamp, Jimin can see that whatever stares at him looks almost human but with a hint of green in its skin, and large, pointy, webbed ears.

The water splits in tiny waves as it moves closer, and Jimin scoots back, out of reach of the water’s edge. Whatever this thing is, it didn’t leave the water to pursue him last time, so maybe he’ll be fine if he stays out of reach.

“Hi,” Jimin coos as softly as he can. He doesn’t know why he’s talking to it or if it can even understand him, but that tether ties him in place, rooting him as deeply as the mangroves around him. He can’t move until he has his answers. He needs them. It’s not even the song that keeps him here anymore.

The creature rises further out of the water, dark hair plastered to the side of its face. A very human-looking face aside from the scales speckled across its cheeks and the gills along its neck, which slowly begin to disappear as it rises higher and higher, closer and closer to Jimin.

Oh. Oh, no.

Jimin shoots upright and turns to run, his heel catching on a root and dragging him right back down to the ground. He hits it hard, catching himself on his hands and sending waves of pain up his arms, rattling through his bones. He hears the water sloshing as he twists around to look and, just as he suspected, that thing begins to shift as it lifts itself from the water.

Jimin catches a glimpse of a large fish tail before it splits and reforms into two human legs, scales vanishing and the webs between his fingers pulling away like dough being stretched too thin. Same with his ears. They just turn to regular, round human ears.

And its now very human body seems right at home on dry land.

Jimin screams as he tries to pull himself away, hands slipping over slimy roots. The creature crawls right out of the water, naked from head to toe, a row of pointy teeth glinting as it grins at Jimin. It moves so fast that Jimin doesn’t have time to run. It’s on him in seconds, moving just as quickly as Jimin can drag himself away.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jimin pleads in a last-ditch effort, fingers digging into mud as he scrambles backward, his heart racing as the reality sets in that he’s probably about to be eaten. This creature’s teeth are sharper than knives as he grins at Jimin, his body rippling with muscle, droplets of water curling along his chest and stomach as he crawls over Jimin. Whatever Jimin does at this point, all this thing has to do is sink his teeth in or lunge forward and Jimin is doomed.

“Pretty,” the creature hisses, long, pointed tongue darting across his lips, dark eyes studying Jimin as they both continue moving along the ground together, “human.” He’s almost completely on top of Jimin now, arms on either side of Jimin as he cocoons him, trapping him under his powerful body until Jimin’s back hits a tangle of mangrove roots and he can’t move any further away. “Came back.”

Jimin’s chest heaves with panicked breaths, heels digging into soft ground as he tries to push himself back. He almost wishes the roots would open up and swallow him whole. It would be better than whatever this creature has in store for him. The fear grips him so tightly that he struggles to speak, his mind only just now catching up with the fact that this thing just talked to him.

“Back?” Jimin gasps out, hands inching slowly across the ground to search for anything he can use to defend himself. There’s a knife on his belt, but it’s in plain view. If he reaches for it, this thing will notice. “From the other night? Yes, yes, I was here. I saw you, I think. You grabbed me?”

If he can just keep talking, maybe he won’t die. This creature—this man?—seems intrigued by him for now. Maybe he just likes to play with his food before he eats it. At least he’s not pouncing yet. So maybe Jimin can talk his way out if this thing understands him.

“I— I don’t want to hurt you. I’m not here to hurt you,” Jimin says, raising one hand in surrender as the other grips the roots behind himself, squirming against them as his body instinctively tries to escape, even when he knows he can’t. “I don’t want to hurt you, so please don’t hurt me.”

The creature doesn’t even seem to hear Jimin at first, his eyes trailing over Jimin’s body, hands curling into the spongy ground around them, kneading it like a cat. And then his gaze snaps up to meet Jimin’s, his eyes surprisingly round as he takes in every inch of Jimin’s face. His brows pull together, head tilted to one side.

“Hurt?” he asks, glancing down again, eyes frantically flitting across Jimin’s body now. He snatches Jimin’s wrist and pulls it close, turning his hand over as if looking for something. It takes every bit of Jimin’s willpower not to scream, his heart in his throat, pounding so hard it makes him feel like he might throw up. “Where?”

Where?

Jimin looks down at his hand, then back up at the creature, then down again before he realizes what he’s being asked.

“Oh, no, I’m not hurt,” he says. His eyes begin to sting from how long he’s kept them open, too afraid to blink in case he gets pounced. But then the man begins to stroke Jimin’s forearm with his fingers, up and down, staring right back in Jimin’s eyes. Jimin raises his other hand to his chest, feeling the panicked thump of his heart slowly return to normal. “Not hurt. I’m okay.”

The creature stares a moment longer, then nods like he understands. “Okay.”

“Yes. Yes, I’m okay,” Jimin says. He suppresses a shiver as the creature keeps stroking his arm. Up and down, up and down. “What are— Who are you? I don’t even know if you know what I’m saying, but I’m…” He presses a finger to his chest as he begins to relax into the embrace of the mangrove behind him, no longer fearful of the man bearing over him. “Jimin.”

The man’s eyes drift down to Jimin’s finger, still perched over him, pinning him in place. Water drips from the creature and onto Jimin’s clothes, his bare body glistening and wet, the tones of his skin seeming to shift with every movement the way a polished pearl would under sunlight. He looks human, and yet so not human at the same time, his mere appearance playing tricks on Jimin’s eyes.

Oh, but his face. His face rivals that of every handsome human man Jimin has ever seen. He rivals the beauty of demons Jimin has made deals with, who pride themselves on being irresistible. Jimin would never tell them that, but this man looks like he was pulled straight from the pages of a folktale, warning humans against being lured by the promise of perfection.

“Jungkook.”

Jimin’s eyes stop their trail down the man’s body, back up to meet his gaze. His breath catches in his throat, their faces only inches away. He swears he can taste a strange, sweet saltiness on the air between their lips.

“Jungkook,” Jimin repeats, and Jungkook nods excitedly, mouth stretching into another wide grin. Those sharp teeth suddenly seem less intimidating when accompanied by such wide doe eyes. “Friendly?”

Jungkook cocks his head at him, the ground squelching beneath his hands as he squeezes it again. He rocks forward slightly, then away like he’s trying to hold himself back from something. The fear isn’t entirely gone, Jimin letting out a nervous “oh!” when Jungkook moves too close.

“Um, okay, you don’t know what that means, then,” Jimin says, a tremor in his voice. His eyes drift down again, and he forces them up once more before he sees something he shouldn’t. He tries to keep his focus on Jungkook’s eyes, staring right back into their jet-black depths. “Good?”

That makes Jungkook perk up. He nods again, then points at himself with one muddy hand. “Good,” he confirms.

“Good,” Jimin repeats, a weak smile slowly crawling onto his face. So he’s not about to be eaten. Thank the gods. “Me too. Friendly.”

“Friendly. Friendly. Friendly.” Jungkook chants the word like he’s trying it out on his tongue, face scrunched in concentration before he nods, approving of his own ability to catch on so quickly. “Good. Friendly. Me.”

Jimin’s smile grows. “You.”

And Jungkook smiles too, even bigger than before. His hands come up like he’s about to cup Jimin’s face, but then his head whips around toward the path Jimin had run down. Jungkook scrambles back, frantic, feet splashing back into the water as a shout of Jimin’s name rings out.

“No, no, no, no, wait!” Jimin calls out, scrambling forward as he reaches out to Jungkook, fingers grazing Jungkook’s shoulder before he twists around and dives back under the surface.

Taehyung crashes through the trees, hands covering his face from stinging leaves and low-hanging vines. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees Jimin, bent at the hip to catch his breath.

“Oh, finally. I was looking everywhere for you. I thought you’d finally been eaten,” he says as he braces his hands on his knees. He flings his blonde hair out of his eyes as he whips his head up to look at Jimin. “Why were you screaming?”

Jimin stares out at the water, slowly raising a finger to point at where Jungkook’s eyes peek just above the surface. His ears have returned to their sharp, webbed form, big eyes trained on Taehyung warily. Why he’s so cautious with Taehyung when he was so ready to climb right on top of Jimin, Jimin doesn’t know.

“Oh!” Taehyung chirps as he straightens up and points at Jungkook, who sinks a bit deeper, eyes narrowing in a glare at Taehyung. “A siren! That explains the singing.”

Jimin feels his smile returning as Jungkook slowly rises again, curious gaze flitting between Jimin and Taehyung. Jimin gestures at his basket, waving for Taehyung to hand him one of the mangrove apples. Taehyung tosses one, and Jimin catches it, holding it out to Jungkook.

“He’s friendly,” Jimin says as Jungkook slowly drifts closer to him. His head pops fully out of the water, peering at Taehyung from the corner of his eye. He keeps his distance from the familiar, floating closer to Jimin. “Aren’t you?”

Big eyes lock onto Jimin again, sharp teeth gleaming in a wide grin. Jungkook rises up just enough to bite into the apple, tugging it from Jimin’s grip, and then he whips around and dives into the water. Jimin catches a glimpse of a large tail as it splashes, a wave of dirty water crashing over the bank and spraying Jimin and Taehyung.

Jimin laughs as Jungkook’s little pool ripples and then calms again, going still as the man—the siren—disappears. He waits a moment with Taehyung at his shoulder, but it seems Jungkook has had his fun for the day. The water’s surface doesn’t break again, and Jimin finds himself even more curious than he was before.

A siren. In a swamp.

There’s something new every day.

 

˗ˏˋ☾´ˎ˗

 

Hoseok delivers on his promise and brings a small delivery of milk and other goods once Jimin and Taehyung have managed to dig themselves a root cellar. Jimin makes up several excuses for how they did it so quickly and where they got the supplies. Hoseok doesn’t need to know that he and Taehyung sneaked their way into the village to snag a bit of what they need.

It was barely anything. It’s not going to hurt anyone.

Jimin had drawn a spell circle on the inside of the trapdoor to keep the space cool enough to store dairy and meat safely, so he had enough shellfish caught and stored in time to trade with Hoseok the last time he came by. He stops by about once a week to see the progress on the hut.

Their home is shaping up to be something actually livable now, almost cozy. Jimin feels proud of their teamwork.

Between entertaining their clueless human guest, fixing up the hut, harvesting goods they need, and practicing spells, Jimin makes regular trips out to Jungkook’s pond. He leaves gifts beside the water each time. Sometimes he sees Jungkook, sometimes he doesn’t, but he still hears him sing every night as soon as Jimin snuffs out his candles.

Like Jungkook is singing him to sleep.

When Jimin has a moment to sit and read, he’s usually reading about sirens now. He hasn’t found a single mention of sirens ever living in swamps. It’s strange, but he can’t really ask Jungkook why he’s here if they can’t communicate properly. Jimin’s best theory is that Jungkook worked his way into the swamp from where it connects to the sea and just decided to hang around.

Gods know why he would do that. Jimin can’t judge him, though, considering he left behind his whole life to live in a swamp too, as people keep reminding him.

By the time the late afternoon rolls around and Taehyung is still out exploring the area between the fresh and saltwater areas of their swamp, Jimin’s curiosity has grown too much for him to ignore. He snaps his book shut and grabs some of the leftover lunch he had cooked for himself and Taehyung, wrapping it in a clean cloth before he heads out.

The gifts are partially an offering to show Jungkook that they can be trusted, and partially as an apology from Jimin for throwing his basket at Jungkook’s head. He still feels bad for that, and Jimin is quick to feel guilty when he actually likes someone.

He didn’t know at the time that Jungkook was just a curious sweetheart.

Now that he does, he feels significantly more comfortable traipsing around the swamp. Sirens are powerful creatures, not to be trifled with, so if Jungkook is in this swamp then he is the apex predator here. And he’s friendly.

If Jungkook likes Jimin and there’s nothing more dangerous than him, then Jimin feels pretty safe now. If something did try to hurt him, Jungkook would likely protect him.

For some reason, he’s very fond of Jimin, has been since before Jimin even knew he existed. He does wonder why Jungkook wanted so badly to lure him out to his little pond and why Jungkook hasn’t just come to the hut himself since he can walk on land. But Jimin doesn’t think he’ll understand until he first learns how to communicate with Jungkook a little better. They won’t get far if they can only trade a few words here and there.

“Jungkook?” Jimin calls out as he walks, ducking beneath vines and shoving aside wide leaves. He’s learned to give Jungkook a little warning so he doesn’t get spooked, and Jungkook will usually answer him with a little bit of his siren song.

This time, Jimin hears a hum that he thinks is Jungkook’s song, but it cuts off abruptly. He steps through the arch of mangrove roots with the leftover lunch in hand, just about to call out for Jungkook again before he sees him.

Jimin stares across the pond where a fallen log stretches over the water, seemingly placed there with purpose to create an easy crossing. But now it simply provides a stage for Jungkook to display himself on.

And Jimin doesn’t think he was invited to the show.

He frantically sets the wrapped food down and looks around for an escape route, so flustered that he forgets he can just turn around and go back the way he came. He feels like a mouse that can’t decide which way to run, simply skittering in panicked circles until he gives up. His gaze drifts to Jungkook, his throat tight and unable to say anything to excuse himself. He knows now what the sounds were.

Certainly not singing.

Jungkook stretches across the log like he’s sunbathing, placed perfectly in a spot where blue sky peeks through the canopy. In the direct sunlight, his skin looks more golden than before, though Jimin swears he can still see that green undertone. He seems to adapt to whatever is around him, shifting and changing so that he’s always one with the nature around him. Jungkook is beautiful, truly.

And not just because he’s naked and dripping wet, sprawled across the log with one leg dangling off. The other bends at the knee, foot resting atop the log, every muscle in his body painted in washes of shadow and sunbeams to accentuate how defined they are. He looks like living marble. One arm folds beneath his head, and the other…

Well, the other rests across the length of his torso, reaching down to wrap a large hand around his cock, which curves high over his stomach, glistening wet as he strokes it and dripping precum onto himself. His hand slides up and down in slow, deliberate movements, thumb trailing along the arch and up to the very tip, then swirling around it.

His head tilts back as he gasps in sharply, hips bucking to fuck into the tight squeeze of his own hand. It feels wrong to watch this, so Jimin takes a hasty step back. His foot slips on a root and he grunts as he catches himself, gripping the mangroves beside him. When he looks up again, Jungkook’s head snaps to the side, eyes locked onto Jimin like he’s just spotted prey.

An apology forms on the tip of Jimin’s tongue and then dies the instant he sees Jungkook’s lips curl into a smile. His teeth glimmer in the sunlight, sharp and as wicked as the smirk on his face. Wet hair clings to the side of his face, strands of black curling like inky tendrils across his skin, one running alongside the gentle slope of his nose.

Jungkook turns his head to the sun again, eyes closed, mouth open in heavy pants and moans, corners still turned up as though pleased that Jimin can’t stop staring at him. He strokes faster, the hand beneath his head weaving into his own hair, his toes curling. The foot he has propped on the log braces to help him push up into his own hand, cords of muscle rippling through him, his body made of raw power.

So powerful, and yet he falls apart so easily under such simple pleasures. It’s mesmerizing.

Jimin’s hands twist around the mangrove roots, wringing them as he stares across the water at Jungkook, unable to move, his breaths coming quicker than they should. His skin grows hot to the touch, dewy from more than just the humidity, and his lip aches between his teeth as he bites it in hopes of silencing the sounds in his throat.

Sweat clings to his hair, building on the back of his neck as he grips tighter and tighter, clinging to the roots to stop himself from slipping his hand between his own legs. His mind dances around the edges of thoughts he feels like he shouldn’t have.

Then again, Jungkook wants him to watch, so he must want Jimin to imagine what it would be like if it was Jimin touching him instead.

He can imagine it. Almost too well, in fact. He can imagine his hands spread across the solid swell of Jungkook’s chest and feeling the rise and fall of each breath he takes. He wants to feel them as they quicken and grow shallow, choked by his moans as he comes closer and closer to the edge. Jimin can imagine straddling Jungkook’s hips and feeling the vigor behind them as they snap up to sink inside him.

Jimin can imagine how thoroughly Jungkook would fill him, stretching him beyond what his human body should take and fucking so deeply that Jimin would feel the ache of it in his back for days. Can imagine the burn in his own thighs as he tries to keep up with the pace of a beast that was built to withstand the crushing pressures of the sea and rival the strength of tidal waves.

The way Jungkook fucks recklessly into his own hand is more than enough for Jimin to know exactly what Jungkook could do to him. Jimin’s mouth waters at the thought, lips parted as he gasps in thick, heady air and digs his nails into the mangroves.

Jungkook’s voice still sounds like music when he moans, back arching off the log as he comes, his cock pushing through the ring his hand forms and shooting ropes of sticky white across his own body. Jimin follows every minute movement, every muscle that pulls taut to help him chase his climax, every bob of Jungkook’s throat as he swallows down his moans, and the droplet of sweat or water that trails down the column of it.

The stroke of Jungkook’s hand slows down, cock twitching as he spills the last bit of cum over the back of his own hand. He takes a moment to catch his breath, slowly sliding his hand up one more time and letting his cock slip from his own grasp. His arm falls to the side, draped over the side of the log, and his head lolls around to look at Jimin again.

His smile hasn’t left his face once since he first noticed Jimin, and it only grows now, though more dazed and blissful than before. Jungkook takes in a few more deep breaths, his cock resting on his bare stomach, his body spent and satisfied as hooded eyes stare at Jimin.

And then he rolls right off the log and twists into a perfect dive, arcing beautifully through the air before he crashes into the water with a splash.

 

˗ˏˋ☾´ˎ˗

 

Jimin stares at the rafters, sprawled across his bed and hands folded politely over his stomach, because everything he did to himself last night after watching Jungkook was anything but polite.

He was so thankful that Taehyung hadn’t returned to the hut yet by the time he burst back through the door. Jimin threw himself right onto the bed, face buried in his pillow, one hand around his cock and the other pressed deep between his legs to sink his fingers inside himself.

Taehyung had immediately smelled Jimin’s arousal on the air when he stepped inside, even though Jimin had finished long before. He promptly turned and left, saying he would spend the night in a tree nearby so Jimin could get whatever he needed out of his system.

Jimin had taken full advantage. He actually wore himself out last night, writhing on his bed until the covers were completely kicked to the floor and his clothes were soaked through with sweat. And the worst part is—or maybe it’s the best part—he could hear Jungkook singing for him through it all.

Doubts had danced through Jimin’s mind all night, wondering if he shouldn’t have stayed and watched. If he had seen too much. The second Jungkook had disappeared back into the water, Jimin ran back home and tried to convince himself that they can pretend this never happened.

It wasn’t until Jungkook started singing for Jimin while he touched himself that he decided to give in to everything he wanted and accept it. There’s no denying what he saw or that Jungkook saw him too.

No denying that Jimin wants to see it again. To feel it next time.

“No, no, stop,” he grumbles to himself as he lifts his feet and then kicks them outward, forcing his body upright on the bed. He can’t let his mind wander again or he’ll spend all day in bed, and poor Taehyung will have to remain banished to the trees.

Jimin forces himself to get dressed and open the front door of the hut, leaning out to call Taehyung back. Technically, Taehyung should be able to sense that he can come back, his bond with Jimin telling him that they’re hopefully past the danger zone of Jimin spiraling into more depraved thoughts. For now.

Taehyung slithers his way back in as Jimin cooks their breakfast, shifting back into his human form before he plops onto the floor.

“What are the plans for today?” Taehyung asks, sprawling out like a starfish on the floor. He wiggles his feet back and forth as he watches Jimin.

“Actually,” Jimin says as he ladles up a bit of his crab stew to taste it. He nods in approval at his own cooking, then gestures for Taehyung to hand him the bowls. “I want to summon Yoongi today.”

“Ooh, yay!” Taehyung cheers as he springs up to grab their bowls and hand them over. He scoots along the floor and makes grabby hands at the air until Jimin hands him a full bowl of stew. “Can’t wait for him to get mad at us again for summoning him so much. What is it for this time?”

Jimin presses his lips into a tight line as he plops onto his butt. He glances over his bowl at Taehyung, lifting it to take a sip of broth. The familiar watches him closely with narrowed eyes, slitted pupils seeming to see right through Jimin as he pretends not to know where this is going.

He’s going to make Jimin say it out loud.

“I’m hoping he’ll know a way I can communicate with Jungkook,” Jimin says before he spoons a large mouthful of stew and then stares down at the rising steam. It burns his mouth, but he keeps chewing, quickly swallowing it down before he looks at Taehyung again.

That stupid forked tongue flicks out as Taehyung grins, and then he lets out a little “Ooh. Someone has a crush—”

“Shut up.” Jimin says, lazily kicking at Taehyung, who kicks right back. “Shut up, I just… want to learn more about him. I’ve never heard of sirens in a swamp before, have you?”

Taehyung shakes his head, slurping at his stew as he stares out the door, netting strung up in it now so they can have better air flow without bugs harassing them. “We already kind of figured he just swam in from the sea, right? Maybe he just likes exploring, found the swamp, decided he kind of liked it here and stayed.”

“Why doesn’t he ever leave, though?” Jimin asks. He clicks his tongue, head shaking, then sets his bowl atop a stack of books. He can’t wait any longer, snatching up his chalk and setting to work on his spell circle. “It seems like he’s always here. If he came from the sea, why doesn’t he go back? And what open water creature like a siren chooses to spend most of his time in a swamp? It doesn’t make sense.”

As Jimin draws, Taehyung scoots back to give him a little room. He wiggles in excitement at the prospect of seeing Yoongi again. It’s not like it’s been a long time since they’ve seen him. They summon him constantly. But Taehyung is obsessed, so he really has no room to laugh at Jimin for his interest in Jungkook.

Taehyung hums around a mouthful of food, mimicking Jimin’s pose as they both kneel on either side of the circle. Jimin extends his hand, and Taehyung places a tiny, glowing vial in his palm—their offering to Yoongi this time.

It’s a fine line that Jimin can’t cross when it comes to working with demons. Most of the offerings he can give are nature-based, but he has to be careful to never take too much from it or hurt it in some way for his own gain. Two nights ago, he and Taehyung had aggressively studied a spell that would allow them to bottle the light of a will o’ the wisp without completely draining it of its energy. He can’t believe it actually worked, and now he just hopes it’s enough to make Yoongi not rip their throats out for constantly annoying him.

Jimin sets the vial in the circle and begins chanting under his breath, hands planted on two of the sigils, Taehyung’s hands on the others as he leans over them like he’s ready to pounce, eyes wild with excitement, tongue running along his lips.

The air in the hut constricts, pressing in on every side of them until Jimin’s head feels like it might explode. His fingers twitch against the wooden floor, a chill rushing down his spine. Even in the damp, humid swamp, Jimin feels cold. A good sign that Yoongi is accepting their call.

A human’s natural instinct when a demon is nearby is to feel terrified and want to run. It took some practice before Jimin could ignore that feeling and stay still whenever Yoongi appeared to them.

The pressure in the air eases suddenly, leaving Jimin disoriented. He blinks once, and the second his eyes open, a pair of feet stand in front of him, dark robes hanging low around them. He can hear Taehyung clapping and letting out a little cheer. There’s a sigh, and Jimin looks up to see Yoongi blinking rapidly at him.

“This had better be good.”

“I’m always good for you,” Taehyung says, sprawled across the floor again, legs spread wide as he grins up Yoongi. His tongue slips out, flicking through the air briefly before it traces his lips and then curls in Yoongi’s direction. “Welcome back, gorgeous.”

Yoongi forces a tired smile onto his face as he glances at Taehyung, and then leans down to scoop up the glowing vial. He holds it above himself, turning it to observe the light, and then with a twirl of his hand, it vanishes into thin air.

“Okay, what do you want this time?” he asks as he stares down at Jimin. His black hair sits atop his head in a bun, some of it loose and spilling down his neck. He glances around at the piles of books he had brought them before, lingering on each page. By now, he knows them well enough to know that whatever he’s here for, it’s some kind of fixation for them and there will be clues. “I’m not fighting sea monsters after you made me act as your interior designer for a month straight. Goodbye—”

“No, no, wait!” Jimin rises up on his knees, hands up, palms toward Yoongi. “No fighting. I was just hoping you might know a spell for something. A way to communicate with a siren.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrow. “Why?”

“Jimin is trying to get pounded into the mud by a pretty siren that’s here in the swamp,” Taehyung says as he shifts around to kneel again, hands gripping his thighs as he peers up at Yoongi through his lashes. “If you help him with that, then maybe you and I can find some time to—”

“Tae, can you control yourself for even two seconds when we summon him?” Jimin asks, and Taehyung scoffs at him.

“You literally summoned him so you can learn to communicate with a siren and consent to getting his dick in you,” Taehyung says, then points at himself, “and I am the one who needs to control myself?”

Yoongi rubs at his brow with his thumb and forefinger, shaking his head. He looks at Jimin from the corner of his eye. “Is that really why I’m here?”

“I’m trying,” Jimin says with a pointed look at his familiar, who shimmies his shoulders playfully at Jimin, “to talk to him so that I can understand why he’s here. Have you ever heard of sirens living in swamps?”

That seems to give Yoongi pause, and then he shrugs. “No,” he says, taking a moment to consider it. He glances out the front door, popping his lips together a few times as Jimin waits with his breath hanging in his throat. “If you can communicate enough to get him to give you one of his scales, then I have a potion for you.”

Jimin leaps to his feet, hands clasped together as he shuffles forward to stand in front of Yoongi. “Really? That’s all it will take? A scale? I could get him to give me that.”

“Or,” Taehyung says as he pops up too, leaning forward to fold both hands over Yoongi’s shoulder, chin resting atop them, “you can give us the spell and you come with us to communicate with the pretty siren. In return, I’ll do anything you want me to. Anything you ask of me.”

Yoongi regards him for a moment, and Jimin rolls his eyes before he turns to throw himself on his bed. He lets out a dramatic groan, then slams his head against the mattress over and over as he listens to them converse.

“I don’t think that’s really much of a sacrifice for you,” Yoongi says.

“No, but even Namjoon gives Seokjin things just for sleeping with him.”

“Well, I’m not Namjoon.”

“No, but you love me even if you won’t admit it—”

“Can we please go talk to Jungkook?” Jimin asks as he twists around and risks a peek at them. Despite how Yoongi acts, he is just as infatuated with Taehyung as Taehyung is with him, and he runs his fingers through Taehyung’s hair as he looks over his shoulder at Jimin.

“Lead the way.”

 

Slipping into the darkness of the mangroves now is almost exciting to Jimin. Without the fear of what he’s about to find or the strange allure of a siren song he doesn’t recognize, it’s just another peaceful walk through the swamp. Now, he just knows he’s going to find Jungkook, and he doesn’t mind that so much.

He just hopes he doesn’t walk into another scene like he did yesterday. It was one thing when it was just him and Jungkook facing each other while Jungkook pleased himself in front of Jimin. But with the others here?

Well.

“Jungkook,” Jimin calls out softly, ducking beneath the overgrowth. He tiptoes over the slippery roots and dodges the softest patches of mud so he doesn’t sink in, and then he steps out to the edge of Jungkook’s pond. “Jungkook, I brought friends to see you! I didn’t bring food this time, sorry. I didn’t think about it.”

He squats down and dips his hand into the water, splashing it around a bit, and then he waits. If Jungkook doesn’t come to his call, a quick splash usually gets him here quickly. Jimin glances up at Yoongi, hand still submerged as he smiles at the demon.

“Just give him a second. I think he explores the swamp a lot, so it might take a second for him to get here—”

But then something solid wraps around Jimin’s wrist and tugs. His heart leaps as he whips around to look, the water in front of him breaking as Jungkook bursts from the pond. It courses down his face in rivulets, curling around the corners of his smile, mouth open in a wide smile.

“Hello,” he says as he tugs on Jimin’s arm with both hands like he might yank him right into the water. He swims closer, rising up high enough that their noses almost touch, and he looks delighted. His round eyes study Jimin’s face, throat bobbing as he gulps down his excitement, before he finally seems to notice Yoongi’s presence.

And that’s when the fear sets in.

Jimin feels Jungkook begin to pull away, but he quickly snatches Jungkook’s hand and holds tight. “No, no, wait! Jungkook, he’s a friend!” he says, waving his other hand in Yoongi’s direction. “Friendly. Good. I promise. He’s here to help us.”

“Help?” Jungkook repeats, gaze slowly sliding back over to Jimin. He clasps Jimin’s hand tighter as he sinks back into the water. Not all the way, but enough that just his head pokes out, Jimin’s knuckles pressed to his lips so Jimin can feel his breath warming his wet skin.

“Yes,” Jimin says with a smile as Jungkook tugs him closer once again. Jimin slips and catches himself on a stray root, bent into a deep, awkward bow as he tries to stay on the bank of the pond but still be close enough to the water for Jungkook’s sake. “He can speak to you.” Jimin points at his own mouth. “Speak.”

Jungkook ducks his head, a bit shifty as he darts back and forth in the water, and then he nods once. “Speak.” He looks up at Yoongi, still holding Jimin’s hand like a safety line. When his mouth opens next, the sounds that leave him make Jimin let out a small “oh!” of surprise.

He doesn’t know what he expected—maybe something more like Jungkook’s song, maybe something akin to the sound of a seashell when a person holds it up to their ear. Instead, he speaks in dissonant chords. Multiple, short tones emanate from him at once. It all seems to come from his throat, like a guttural hum and a strange keening at the same time, and each feels like it cuts off too soon. It’s as though someone has slammed their hands onto the keys of a piano and then silenced it immediately after, over and over.

It disorients Jimin almost like his siren song does, but not in the same beautiful, harmonic way. It’s almost grating to listen to, and Jimin feels like he can’t even quite comprehend it, like he’s not really hearing and making sense of it. It’s all just noise to him.

His mind instinctively tries to shut it out and ignore it, as though it knows this is the sound of a creature that could kill him if Jungkook wanted to. This is the true sound of a siren. This is why they sing instead. This sends chills up Jimin’s spine even when he knows he has nothing to fear.

Sometimes Jungkook’s sounds trail off into a slight hissing, but that seems to be when he’s displeased with something. Jimin can see his tongue curl as he speaks, sees it flick forward in one last guttural, atonal groan before Yoongi begins speaking in the same language.

Jimin glances back and forth between them as they talk, Jungkook’s face growing more and more concerned as it goes. And then suddenly he lets out a rapid series of discordant notes that are almost like the sound of knuckles rapping on wood, but muffled as though hearing it through water. He yanks away from Jimin’s grip, water splashing around him as he tries to pull away, though Jimin holds on as tightly as he can.

“Jungkook, hey, what— Why are you—” Jimin looks up at Yoongi. “What did you say?”

“I just told him we would need one of his scales,” Yoongi says. He takes a quick step back when Jungkook suddenly lunges forward with a shriek, teeth bared at Yoongi and spiny, fin-like structures shooting up along the length of his spine.

“Jungkook!” Jimin struggles to keep his grip on the siren as he thrashes, nearly pulling Jimin into the water before Jimin finally lets go. He catches himself on the bank, slipping on the mud, hands sinking back into the pond as Jungkook darts away from him.

The siren’s eyes flit between Jimin and Yoongi and Taehyung, then back to Jimin before he shakes his head. “No. No,” is all he says before he twists around and throws himself back into the murky water, disappearing in the blink of an eye. His tail flicks up above the surface for a split second, then crashes down and splashes water up over the bank.

Jimin closes his eyes and covers his face, plant matter sticking to his skin, the steady drip of water trickling off his hand and back into the pond. His heart sinks like a stone, weighed down by a dreaded feeling that he may have just broken Jungkook’s trust in him, though he doesn’t understand why.

What scared him so suddenly? Why wouldn’t he let them try to explain? Why wouldn’t he even give Jimin time to? The fear in his eyes struck a chord in Jimin, made him ache to pull Jungkook closer and comfort him, to promise him that he doesn’t want to hurt him.

He didn’t even get a chance.

“So,” Taehyung says as they all stare out at the water, the ripples fading as they wait. He looks over at Jimin once it becomes clear that Jungkook isn’t going to return. “Is it safe for me to sleep inside tonight? I feel like you’re not really going to be in the same mood you were last night.”

“Yes. You can sleep inside tonight,” Jimin says as he slowly pulls his hands out of the water, his tone flat, face blank. He wishes he knew how to describe what he feels, but he doesn’t think there’s a word for it. Not quite hopeless, not quite guilty, not quite sad.

He just feels. For Jungkook.

“Thank the gods.” Taehyung tilts his head to the branches overhead and sighs in relief. “There’s only room for one snake in that hut, and you were whipping yours all over the place last night.” He raises his hands when Jimin and Yoongi simultaneously turn to stare at him. “Okay, sorry. Trying to lighten the mood. I’m sure he’ll be back eventually.”

Jimin looks out at the pond again, pressing one hand into the mud as he leans forward and dips the other under the water. He hopes Taehyung is right. He hopes Jungkook comes back, that his trust in Jimin isn’t completely gone.

He rinses the mud from his hands before he stands up and wipes them dry on his clothes, then nods to the others. Jimin gestures for them to lead the way back, Taehyung gnawing at his lip as he goes, glancing at Jimin with concern. The familiar wrings his scaly hands together before he scurries to catch up with Yoongi, toying with his robes and trying to sneak his fingers beneath them.

Jimin reluctantly follows them, his steps slow, every part of him wishing to stay and wait for Jungkook to come back. He doesn’t want to leave Jungkook scared like this.

He waits under the arch of mangroves, scanning the water one last time. Maybe he imagines it, but he swears he can feel eyes on him. And then a tug on his heart. That tether. He can’t walk away like this.

Jimin hurries back to the water’s edge, his heart pounding as he rolls up his knee-length shorts and takes careful steps down the slippery slope to the pond’s edge. He holds tightly onto any root he can find so he doesn’t slide straight into the depths. This could be stupid, but he just needs Jungkook to know that they aren’t here to hurt him.

If Jimin steps into Jungkook’s territory, where he has all the power and Jimin can do nothing to stop him from attacking, then maybe he won’t feel so threatened. It’s just Jimin, Jungkook, and the water.

And they both know who rules the water.

He sinks in up to his knees, his bare feet slipping on the silt below, almost silky soft beneath him. Weeds tangle around his ankles, the water pleasantly warm so he’s at least comfortable as he waits.

Jimin’s jaw trembles in fear even though he doesn’t feel scared. His survival instinct tells him he shouldn’t do this, fight or flight kicking in even as he ignores it. Jimin knows Jungkook won’t hurt him, but that doesn’t stop his body from knowing he’s only human and he can be ripped apart so easily.

Jimin waits with his eyes closed, sinking a little deeper. He takes a step forward, still gripping a root with one hand, just in case. There is no sound around him—not a splash, not the whir of a bug buzzing by, and not a song.

“Jungkook?” he calls out, hand over his heart and his voice as soft as he can make it. Anything to bring the siren back to him, to make him feel safe again.

But still nothing.

Jimin takes another step and lets go of the root, the water all the way up to his waist now. He doesn’t care that it soaks his clothes, and he ignores the tickle of things against his bare legs. Just plants, he tells himself. Plants disturbed by his presence and swaying as he moves them.

Until something strong grabs both of his ankles and Jimin has to bite down a scream. His eyes snap open, staring down into the water, too muddy for him to see anything. He just trusts that it’s Jungkook touching him, and nothing else. He has to.

Too fucking late to save himself now if it isn’t.

He feels webbed hands slide up his legs, the slick pads of Jungkook’s fingers trailing along his calves. Jimin’s breath hitches, hands hovering above the water. Something presses against his thigh, just above his knee.

Lips. A pair of lips kiss the front of his thigh, then again along the inside, Jungkook’s head pressed between his legs. He can feel Jungkook turn, and then the touch of those lips again, this time on the inside of his other thigh. Both of Jungkook’s hands come to rest on Jimin’s left leg now, one gripping his calf and the other sliding along the back of his thigh. Jungkook pushes Jimin’s legs apart, the tips of his fingers teasing beneath his shorts, pushing them further up. His lips follow in their path.

Jimin’s hands dip beneath the water, mouth dropping open in quick breaths. His nerves are all alight, vibrating like a thousand harp strings all being strummed at once until he’s trembling under Jungkook’s touch. He can feel Jungkook’s hair beneath his fingers, just about to tangle into wet locks before hands suddenly tighten around both of his legs again.

Jimin gasps as he’s lifted from the water, a large splash sending waves across the pond as he’s suddenly thrown right onto solid ground. He falls back with a huff, legs dangling over the slight slope, toes grazing the surface of the water. As he catches his breath, Jimin pushes himself up to search for Jungkook, half expecting him to pop back up with that big smile again.

Instead, the water breaks around a single hand, webbed fingers curled partially into a fist, but his thumb and forefinger pinching something between them.

Jimin leans forward and reaches out, carefully plucking the object from Jungkook’s hand. He holds it up and stares, slack-jawed and still a little bewildered, his mind struggling to move past the head and hand that had just been between his legs. He blinks a few times before it all makes sense.

Between his fingers, glinting each time Jimin turns it in the sunlight, is a silvery-green scale. Just one, but it shifts in that same strange, pearlescent way that Jungkook’s skin does, and it brings a smile back to Jimin’s face in an instant. He looks down just as Jungkook’s hand retreats beneath the water again, and this time Jimin knows he’s gone for real.

But at least it’s on better terms than before. Much, much better.

 

˗ˏˋ☾´ˎ˗

 

The ink has barely dried on the new page of Jimin’s grimoire by the time he starts on the potion. He’s too excited to finally talk with Jungkook, to be able to communicate in a way that allows them to really understand each other. He has no idea what to expect or what it will sound like.

Will he still hear Jungkook’s language the way he heard it yesterday? Or will he hear it as though Jungkook is speaking Korean? Or will Jimin’s mind struggle to comprehend what’s happening and he’ll simply feel what Jungkook means?

Jimin sucks air through his teeth as Taehyung pricks his finger, turning Jimin’s hand over the cauldron and squeezing a few droplets of blood out. Just like Jungkook, Jimin has to give a part of himself to this spell. Hair isn’t powerful enough and he’s not about to lop off his pinky finger, so blood it is. That was Yoongi’s suggestion too, so Jimin has faith that it will work.

Yoongi has never led them astray before.

As Taehyung bandages Jimin’s fingers, Jimin leans over to grab Jungkook’s scale from where it waits in the sunlight, gleaming just as beautifully as Jungkook. His tongue darts nervously across his lips as he holds the scale over the cauldron, a quiet beat passing as he prays that this works.

After the strength it took for Jungkook to trust him with this, Jimin needs it to work.

He drops the scale in and watches as the potion sputters and spits, boiling and bubbling and hissing at them. Jimin quickly begins to stir it, wiping sweat from his brow, the heat of the fire and the swamp’s humidity making him crave a dip in the water with Jungkook again.

“Do you have to drink that?” Taehyung asks, once again starfishing across the floor, his shirt damp with sweat. He wiggles his feet around as he watches Jimin work. “With your blood and his scale in it? That’s kind of gross.”

“We’ve had grosser,” Jimin says with a shrug.

“True.”

“Besides, it’s boiled. Think about what we eat every day. We both fish. That’s just dead flesh too.”

Taehyung wrinkles his nose at the rafters. “Also true.”

Jimin leans over the potion and closes his eyes, breathing in the scent. Yoongi said it would begin to change when it’s ready, and that Jimin would know. He doesn’t know what that means until the scent hits him so hard he can taste it on his tongue—salty sweet. He remembers tasting that on the air when Jungkook was close to him.

“Help me,” Jimin says, and Taehyung springs to action to help him remove the cauldron from the heat, setting it on the hearth before gathering up a few vials. The recipe doesn’t make much, but they’ll get a few uses out of it. Jimin also doesn’t know how long the effects last. If this works, and he and Jungkook keep spending time together, he’ll have to make more.

Which means more scales.

Which means more trust.

Jimin is going to have to work hard to make Jungkook trust him. He doesn’t know why taking a single scale scared Jungkook so much, but maybe it’s just in a siren’s nature. He supposes he’ll find out soon enough.

He and Taehyung filter and ladle the potion into several different vials, sealing them with corks. Jimin crosses his legs and cups two of the vials in his hands, staring down at the liquid inside. At least he has a good feeling that it will work. Just like Jungkook, the potion has that pearly appearance to it, his very essence a part of it.

Jimin hops to his feet, clutching the vials in his hand as Taehyung raises a brow at him. “You’re going now?”

“Yes, I don’t want to waste any more time,” Jimin says. “You saw the way he reacted when Yoongi asked him for his scales. He was scared. I want him to understand that none of us want to hurt him. So I’m going to talk to him today because I don’t know if he’ll—”

What if he decides he can’t risk coming back again? That he can’t trust Jimin? What if he goes back to wherever he came from in the sea? Jimin would likely never see him again.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Taehyung asks as he gathers up the spare vials, clutching them to his chest like they’re treasure.

“No. I think I should talk to him alone this time.” Jimin rattles the two vials together in his hand, staring down at the swirling liquid inside before he looks through the window that gives him a view of the path to Jungkook’s pond. He hasn’t heard singing all day, and he just hopes he’s not already too late.

“Okay,” Taehyung says as he scoots along the floor to tuck their new potions beneath a loose floorboard under Jimin’s bed. It’s the best place to store it where no human visitor might accidentally stumble across them. “Be careful. If I hear you screaming, should I come running or should I assume you two need privacy?”

Jimin blinks at Taehyung, lips twisted into a deep frown. But Taehyung just giggles when Jimin doesn’t have much of a retort. He did stand and watch Jungkook get himself off, let Jungkook slip between his legs and kiss his bare thighs, and he has dedicated days and days to studying sirens and trying to find a way to communicate with Jungkook.

There’s no denying Jimin’s intrigue.

“I’ll be fine,” Jimin says, and Taehyung cackles again.

“I bet you will be.”

That’s the last thing Jimin hears before he hops down the front steps, bare feet hitting the wet ground, once again soaked from overnight rains. Jimin wiggles his toes in the grass before he hurries for the mangroves. He had the forethought to wear shorter shorts today—the shortest pair he could find—just in case he needs to get into the water again. Might be a bit more convenient.

No other reason.

Jimin ducks into the darkness of the swamp, enjoying the few sunbeams that trickle through on his way. He wonders if Jungkook chose this particular pond because it provides such a large gap in the trees. He gets a bit of sunlight without leaving the swamp. And he has that log to lounge on.

Jimin has tried his best not to think about that day since it happened. Every time he does, he gets this itch he can’t quite scratch, his whole body feeling restless and fidgety. He knows why, he just doesn’t like it.

As he breaks through the trees, Jimin lets out a low whistle, a quick tune to catch Jungkook’s attention on his way to the edge of the water. Jimin eases himself down into the mud, sitting his butt right in it and not worrying about getting filthy anymore. All he wants right now is for Jungkook to feel his presence and come to him again. Jimin would dive into a pool of piranhas right now if that’s what it took to get his answers.

His feet dip into the water, splashing around like bait as he calls out, “Jungkook. I’m here. I came back again. And I,” he lifts one of the vials and shakes it around, “brought something for you. If you trust me. This is so we can speak.”

Jimin wiggles his feet again, then leans forward to dip his other hand underneath the surface. With every second that passes, his heart hurts a little more, fear gripping him as it becomes more and more possible that Jungkook won’t come back after all.

No, no, no. He wouldn’t have given Jimin his scale if he didn’t plan to stick around and find out what it’s for. He trusted Jimin enough for that. Why would he leave now?

Jimin closes his eyes as he waits, holds his breath, focuses everything on hearing the swamp and the subtle ripples of water in the distance. Sometimes, when he listens close enough, Jimin swears he can hear the sea far off in the distance. He wonders if that’s where Jungkook is now, if he left the home he made for himself here and went back to where he belongs.

“Jungkook,” Jimin says again, as softly as he can as he practically bends himself in half to get closer to the water. “I’m sorry I scared you yesterday. I didn’t mean to. I just want a chance to—”

A hand shoots out of the water in front of his face, finger pressed to Jimin’s lips when he yelps. It pushes him back, another webbed hand snatching the vial from him. Jungkook quickly darts out of Jimin’s reach as soon as he has what he wants, the vial clutched to his chest. He casts Jimin a wary look, then looks down at the potion.

“For you,” Jimin says, then he holds up the other vial. “And for me. To speak.” He points back and forth between himself and Jungkook. “So we can understand each other. Like Yoongi said.”

Jungkook’s head whips around to look at Jimin again. “Yoongi?”

“The… demon that was here with me yesterday.” Jimin knows he could lie about what Yoongi is, but he has a feeling Jungkook already knows. Lying will only make Jungkook more hesitant. He uncorks his own vial and lifts it to his lips, watching every move Jungkook makes. “Drink. I’ll go first.”

Jimin tips his head back and lets the potion burn across his tongue and down his throat. It’s not the most pleasant taste, but he’s had far worse, and he gulps it down easily enough, then opens his mouth to show Jungkook that it’s gone.

The siren’s eyes dart along Jimin’s body, then over to where Jimin sticks the vial in the mud, and finally down to the potion in his hands. He turns it around and around, then twists the cork a few times before he pops it out. With one last glance at Jimin, he throws his head back and lets the potion pour down his throat.

Jungkook lets out a noise of discontent, shuddering and wrinkling his nose at the taste of it. He gags, and Jimin can’t help but giggle at the sight, covering his mouth with his hand when Jungkook looks at him.

“Sorry,” Jimin says as he holds his hand out for the vial, which Jungkook corks and places gently in his palm. “I know it tastes gross. Potions usually do. Hard to make them good when you have to work with such weird ingredients all the time. At least this one mostly tastes like salt, right? You should be used to that, though. You’re from the sea, aren’t you?”

He knows he’s rambling, but it feels like that’s all Jimin can do. He just wants Jungkook to know he’s not a threat. All Jimin really is, at the very core of his heart, is a silly little witch with too much curiosity.

“I am,” Jungkook says, but there’s a certain cadence to his voice now. It makes Jimin feel dizzy for a moment, his eyes losing focus as he stares at Jungkook until he realizes what this must mean. “I came here through the tidal channels years ago to find a witch who could help me.”

Jimin can’t contain his excitement. The spell is working. He’s giddy, practically bouncing in the mud and kicking his feet like a child. It’s always a thrill when a spell works, but especially this one. They can finally talk.

“You can— You can understand me now?” Jimin asks, leaning so far forward he’s surprised he doesn’t tip right into the water. Jungkook sinks down until the water covers his mouth, and then he nods. “By the gods, I— Okay, wow, oh, I— I have so many questions for you. Why—”

“No,” Jungkook says as he swims closer, head rising above the water again. He stops just out of Jimin’s reach. “I want to ask you first.”

Jimin nods, hands curling into the mud on either side of himself. As eager as he is, Jungkook is the one who had to sacrifice something he clearly didn’t want to for this. He was the one who was scared. He deserves his answer first. Jimin is simply curious. He can wait.

“What do you want from me?”

That simple question freezes Jimin in place. He stares at Jungkook, eyes wide, blinking a few times before he clears his throat.

“Nothing. Nothing particular, really. I just want to understand who you are and why you’re here,” Jimin answers. That’s all there is to it. He doesn’t know what answers Jungkook is looking for, but that’s all he has to offer. “I’ve been studying and I can’t find anything about sirens living in a place like this. That’s what you are, right?”

Jungkook nods.

“I am,” he says again. “But I chose to come here. Why did you come to this place?”

“Freedom,” Jimin says, earning a curious tilt of the siren’s head. It brings a smile to Jimin’s face. “Humans have a lot of rules about magic. There were things I wanted to study that I couldn’t. If I ever stepped out of line, they could have locked me up. I lived in a city and everything was carefully regulated. If I wanted to buy ingredients for potions, they would keep records of it and then investigate me if they thought I was doing something suspicious.”

Something about that makes Jungkook back away, creating more distance between himself and Jimin. It’s hard not to panic and reach out, to beckon Jungkook to him again and promise that Jimin is trustworthy. But right now, he’s afraid that any slight movement might scare Jungkook off.

“If what you do is good, then they should have no reason to lock you away for it,” Jungkook says, and Jimin’s heart sinks.

“No— No, no, wait, please,” Jimin says, reaching out with both hands, palms up. “I promise, I’m not here to hurt you or… anything in this place. The rules back home were so strict. I couldn’t do anything. They were suspicious of everything witches do, so I—”

“Maybe they should be.”

Jimin’s eyes widen further, stinging with tears as Jungkook moves away again. He slowly lowers his hands into the water to let the mud wash away, his fingers numb and aching to touch Jungkook again.

Jungkook dips back into the water, just his eyes peeking out and the tips of his ears sticking up.

“What did the witch here do to you?” Jimin asks as he pulls his hands into his lap. He wrings them together, gripping tight to show Jungkook that he’s not going to touch him unless Jungkook wants him to. “You said you came here to find a witch. What did they do to scare you so much?”

They stare at each other for a long moment before Jungkook closes his eyes. He squeezes them shut tight, grimacing beneath the water at whatever memories float through his mind. Jimin wishes he could hear them all.

“I came here to make a deal. She tricked me,” Jungkook says. He drifts toward Jimin again, his eyes locked onto Jimin’s right knee as he slowly reaches out to touch it. “That is all you need to know. I have waited ever since for someone to come help me.”

“And you were hoping I would be that person.” Jimin swallows hard, watching Jungkook’s hand inch its way up his thigh. “But then I brought a demon to you and asked you for your scale, and that scared you. You thought I was like her. I’m not.”

Jungkook slowly raises his eyes to meet Jimin’s. Both hands come to rest on Jimin’s legs, cool and wet against his thighs as Jungkook lifts himself up.

“I care for and protect nature and all its creatures,” Jimin whispers, tasting salty sweetness on the air again as Jungkook’s eyes level with his. “That includes you. I only asked for your scale so we could talk. Not to take something from you. Is that—”

Jimin bites his lip, breath catching in his throat as he finally risks reaching out. His fingers splay across the side of Jungkook’s neck, carefully ghosting over his gills and up to cup his cheek. The bits and pieces of what Jungkook has said begin to click into place.

“Is that what the other witch did to you?”

The grip on Jimin’s thighs tightens, Jungkook’s eyes burning into him as he sways in the water. And then he lifts himself up even higher, turning to pull himself part way into Jimin’s lap. Jimin huffs at the sudden weight atop him, water rushing off of Jungkook’s tail and down Jimin’s leg. Jungkook leans in close, one hand stretched past Jimin to brace on the ground while the other takes hold of Jimin’s wrist.

Jimin lets Jungkook guide his hand to the side of his tail, sliding his fingers along it, right to a spot just above the water. There’s a little patch with no scales left, just exposed skin, scarred over from years of pulling scales from it, Jimin assumes. Jungkook lets go of his hand and allows Jimin to touch the scar freely, tracing the edges of the area.

He tastes bile in his throat, sick at the thought of someone doing this to another living creature. Some of Jimin’s practices in magic can be questionable, but not like this. He could never do something like this and still live with himself.

“She trapped you here to— to take your scales?” Jimin asks, following the edges of each scale down, then back up to Jungkook’s hip. They’re slick with water, his fingers slipping over their smooth surface easily until he reaches the area where it fades into human skin along his torso. Jimin stops there when he hears a slight tremor in Jungkook’s breath.

“And my tears,” Jungkook says, wrenching Jimin’s gaze back up. Jimin feels cold despite the warmth around them. He turns his head to look into Jungkook’s eyes, the siren’s face so close to his that Jimin leans back instinctively. “If I cried from the pain, she would harvest my tears too. Said they were powerful.”

Harvest them. She harvested a living, breathing being. She trapped Jungkook here for an endless supply of magical ingredients. As though he’s just some kind of mindless plant to pluck scales from like leaves, growing them back over and over as if it costs him nothing.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin whispers, nearly nose to nose with Jungkook now, the siren’s eyes tracing his face.

“Not your fault.” Jungkook seems to lean in, Jimin’s heart stopping when he feels warm breath on his lips.

“No, but a witch should never— We should never do things like this to a living creature,” Jimin says. His hand slides along Jungkook’s ribs, thumb brushing a scale at his hip. He doesn’t know why he touches Jungkook like this, his mind lost in the black orbs staring back at him. He can’t think. He just feels. “I’m sorry that someone who claims the same title as me would do this to you.”

The weight of Jungkook’s gaze makes Jimin feel so small, watched under the eyes of a predator. He knows what Jungkook could do to him if he wanted. He also knows Jungkook never would. And he feels oddly safe under the touch of someone so dangerous.

“Not your fault,” Jungkook repeats before he slides off Jimin’s lap and back into the water, both hands on his thighs again. He leaves a muddy handprint on Jimin before he begins scooping water up to wash it off.

Jimin breathes in deeply, the wheels of his brain finally able to turn again now that Jungkook isn’t so close. It’s still hard to think with this man between his legs, his hand clamped over Jimin’s thigh, head resting on his hand while the other traces Jimin’s leg that he had just washed the mud from.

“How did she keep you here?” Jimin asks, eager to move on to something else that makes him feel a little less tingly.

“Magic.” Jungkook seems right at home with his head in Jimin’s lap, unwilling to move away. “She placed a curse on me. I came here, asked for a deal. She promised me. Went back to her hut. Next day, I was stuck. All I could do was swim in circles in the same parts of the swamp,” his hand leaves Jimin’s thigh to draw circles in the surface of the water instead, “over and over and over.”

“So that’s why you never come to the hut to see me. You can’t go that far,” Jimin says. Every answer he gets brings him another ten questions he wants to ask. “How far can you go?”

“To the beginning of tidal channels, but not far enough to get a view of the sea.” Jungkook slips away from Jimin’s lap to point deeper into the swamp, toward the winding labyrinth cut by rising and falling tides. “She kept me far enough away from my people that they would never hear my song. And then I can go north,” Jungkook points the other way, “to the area where saltwater meets river water, but no farther. I can’t go up the streams or the mountain rivers. Just a half-circle around your home.”

“And you— Sorry. I keep asking so many questions. If you weren’t trapped here, you’d probably be swimming away from me as fast as you can,” Jimin says with a weak laugh, head shaking at himself. Bad time to joke, he knows, but it makes Jungkook smile. “What happened to her? The witch? She wouldn’t have just left if she still had you here. You’re… valuable.”

It makes him sick to say that, no matter how true he knows it is. Thankfully, Jungkook seems to understand that’s not how Jimin feels, it’s just what he’s observed.

Jungkook seems to hesitate on his answer, hands flexing over Jimin’s thighs, doing that thing where he kneads at stuff. This time, with his webbed hands against bare skin, he makes Jimin shiver with a thrill he’s only ever felt under the touch of another human.

“One day, she caught me… with her net, like she always did.”

Jungkook kneads and kneads, Jimin’s legs beginning to squeeze closed of their own accord, knees coming together to hide the excitement he absolutely shouldn’t feel in a moment like this. He knows Jungkook doesn’t mean to, but the way he touches Jimin makes this inevitable.

“But the ropes were weak. She turned her back,” Jungkook continues, his head down, eyes up to watch Jimin. His shoulders hunch slightly, trying to hide himself away from Jimin as he confesses. That’s what this is, Jimin thinks—a confession. “I pulled her into the water and…”

Jimin nods. He doesn’t need Jungkook to say any more. Jimin lets go of mud on either side of him. He hadn’t realized how tightly he had been gripping it, his fingers leaving divots so deep they look like tiny tunnels.

“Can I ask you more now?” Jungkook asks as Jimin washes his hands off.

With a sheepish laugh, Jimin nods. “Yeah, I can shut up long enough.”

“You do not fear me?” Jungkook asks the question so quickly, barely letting Jimin finish first. “Even after hearing that? What if I hurt you?”

Jimin stares at him in awe, more questions cropping up as he tries to tie his tongue around an answer. “She tortured you, Jungkook,” he says. He reaches up to cup Jungkook’s face, lifting it so he no longer cowers from his own admissions. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. You fought back because she hurt you. What else were you supposed to do?”

A long beat passes, nothing but the sound of frogs croaking and fish splashing. Jungkook suddenly presses forward, forcing Jimin to lean back slightly, his hands locked behind Jungkook’s neck. The siren seems to study him for a moment, eyes darting all over his face, all over his body, then back up.

“I have never wanted to hurt someone before. And I tried not to. I didn’t want to. And I knew that if I hurt her, she would never let me go. Or if she was dead, then she could never break the curse. But I let my anger overpower me and I—”

Jungkook tries to pull away, but Jimin holds him tighter, pulling him right back into his space. Anything to tell Jungkook that he’s not afraid, that he did nothing wrong. He fought back against someone who hurt him.

Anyone in his position would do the same.

“Why did you keep coming back to me?” Jungkook asks. “You did not know you could trust me before.”

“I didn’t. But I was curious about you. I wanted to know what you were. That’s what I do.” Jimin’s fingers press lightly into the back of Jungkook’s neck, working at the muscles there, trying to ease Jungkook’s tension. “I try to understand and love nature. And all its creatures.”

Jungkook’s eyes light up. “Like me?”

“Like you. Listen, Jungkook, I—” Jimin takes a deep breath, eyes closed. Now is as good a time as any to explain his magic and what it costs him. What it costs them. Eventually, Jungkook will have to understand what it takes for them to communicate like this. Considering what happened to Jungkook, it’s better to inform sooner so he doesn’t feel misled. “I have more of this potion, but it won’t last forever. If we want to keep talking…”

“You need more scales.”

Jimin nods, lips pressed together, hands coming to rest on Jungkook’s shoulders. “You don’t have to—”

“I will.” The smallest of smiles curls Jungkook’s lips, pointy tips of his teeth poking out. “For you.”

“You don’t have to do it for free,” Jimin says, once again struggling to catch his breath from how close Jungkook is. He breathes in salt and sea air, even when he knows they’re so far from it. Jungkook is the sea. “I believe that if I take from nature, I have to give something back. If there’s anything you want from me, just name it. Anything at all. I understand that your scales are a sacrifice that no siren should have to make. And it’s especially painful for you because of your history.”

“You give me enough by being here,” Jungkook says, leaning closer still. His tongue slides along his lips, slow and deliberate, the long, sharp tip of it curling before it retreats to hide behind sharp teeth again. “Could you break the curse?”

Jimin’s mouth drops open, forming a little circle as he lets that sink in. He should have expected this, but it still sends his heart into a frantic tailspin. He can’t promise things he’s not sure about, but it’s so hard to say no while staring into those eyes.

“Oh. I— I can certainly try but, Jungkook, I’m not that powerful,” he says. He has to at least give Jungkook that. He deserves it. “If I’m honest, I’m a young witch. I haven’t been practicing long. I won’t be able to do it right away, but I can work on it. For you.”

Jungkook nods, eyes wandering as he considers those words. He works his hands back up Jimin’s thighs, fingers teasing beneath his shorts but stopping before they reach too high. His sharp teeth work over his lip before he grins and asks, “I can visit every day while you try?”

“Of course,” Jimin says through a laugh. He lets his fingers trail down to Jungkook’s chest, and then he licks his lips and forces his hands back onto Jungkook’s shoulders. Safer there. “There’s another pool of water closer to the hut. I can see it from the back window.”

Jungkook freezes as soon as those words leave him, sinking back into the water and out of Jimin’s reach. Sorrow washes over Jimin when he sees the way Jungkook’s eyes drift up to him, then snap away, head ducked again before he shakes it back and forth rapidly.

“Oh. Is that where…?” Jimin trails off as the memory of those frayed ropes behind the hut rush to the front of his mind.

“Yes,” Jungkook says, nodding as he pushes his hair back from his face, shaking water from his long locks before he lets them spill down his neck again. “That was where she first trapped me. Where we made the deal. Where I would go when I would try to make her free me. I do not go there anymore.”

“I’m sorry—”

“You had no way of knowing.” Jungkook drifts back over to Jimin, wet hands sliding back onto Jimin’s thighs as he lifts himself. He rests between Jimin’s legs, arms wrapping around Jimin’s waist as he peers up at him. “There is another pond. Across from your home, right in front of it. I used to watch you come in and out of the front door before we first spoke.”

Coming from anyone else, those words would be terrifying, but Jungkook saying it just makes Jimin smile. He doesn’t know what about this beautiful creature is so disarming, but Jimin can’t help feeling charmed. It’s not even the siren song that does it. It’s just Jungkook himself.

“Why don’t you go there more often?” Jimin asks as he twists a strand of Jungkook’s hair around his fingers. His heart swells when he sees Jungkook smile at the touch. “You can come see me there if you want. Might be a little easier for me to bring you food and things.”

“I can do that,” Jungkook says, hands pawing across Jimin’s back, kneading at his shirt. “I prefer to spend time here. Water is deeper. Easier to swim. But I can visit there.”

“You can walk on land too, can’t you?” Jimin asks as he cocks his head, pushing his fingers through Jungkook’s hair. He’s playing with fire, touching Jungkook like this, letting his heart grow so fond of a man that likely won’t stay here if they break this curse. He belongs to the sea. A creature like him doesn’t belong in a place like this.

“I can,” Jungkook replies, his eyes drifting shut as he leans his head into Jimin’s hand. “Not before, though.”

Jimin trembles when he breathes, but he keeps his smile on his face when Jungkook opens his eyes again. “What do you mean?”

“When she first cursed me,” Jungkook explains, leaning heavily on Jimin’s right leg so he can draw patterns on the left once again, “it took away my ability to shift to a human form too. I was only able to be in the water. But when I killed her, for some reason I was able to step onto land again. I thought that meant the curse broke, but when I ran to her hut, it was as though I hit an invisible wall. I still could not get any closer to it.”

Magic can be such a curious thing sometimes. Jimin has never heard of a curse changing after its caster dies. Usually, the curse just goes on like nothing happened at all. That’s just one more thing for him to study and try to understand about this whole, strange situation.

“How long have—” Jimin swallows down his own voice, wondering if he really wants to hear the answer to this question. Especially not with Jungkook staring up at him with those doe eyes. His heart has already broken a hundred times since they started talking. “How long ago did she curse you?”

Jungkook’s eyes go even wider than before, impossibly so. He gnaws at his lip once more as he thinks, lost in the past, trying to tally up the time. But then he shrugs and shakes his head, and that’s when Jimin’s heart truly shatters.

“That long, huh?”

With his eyes falling shut again, Jungkook nods, his body sinking deeper into the water as his head comes to rest on Jimin’s lap again. Jimin hears himself make a little sound of shock at the way Jungkook settles in so quickly, treating Jimin like his personal pillow. His hands hover over Jungkook’s head, unsure what to do or how to touch him or if he should anymore.

He supposes it can’t hurt to let Jungkook enjoy this. He’s been starved of intimacy for so long, and the last touch he knew was cruel and torturous. The least Jimin can give him is the kindness and affection that every person deserves.

So Jimin lets himself trace along the sharp points of Jungkook’s ears, then rests his hands in Jungkook’s hair again, stroking through the wet mat of black and brushing it out with his fingers. He feels a slight rumble from Jungkook’s chest, a strange sound that isn’t quite like gurgling but has the same rhythm to it. Almost like he’s purring.

Everything about Jungkook is so hard for Jimin to wrap his mind around, but he’s going to try his best.

“I’ll break the curse for you,” Jimin promises even when he knows he shouldn’t, and that purring noise only grows louder, Jungkook’s arms squeezing tightly around Jimin.

Jimin promises, and he’ll try his hardest to fulfill that too.

Notes:

WHEEEEEEEEEE I'm posting both chapters at once so make sure you drop your thoughts in a lil comment on this one before moving on! 😉

Also, please check out this lovely art that Deni made for this fic and cry with me 😭

Chapter 2

Summary:

The beautiful art in this chapter is commissioned from Ada on Twitter/X or Bluesky

 

˗ˏˋ☾´ˎ˗

 

“Think fast!”

A grapefruit flies right at Jungkook’s head, but his reflexes snap into action and help him catch it just in time. There’s a little hum from Taehyung as he approaches, two more grapefruits and some utensils in hand.

“Well, it’s not as fun when you catch it,” he says as he plops into the grass beside Jimin. Setting the grapefruits in his lap. “Want me to cut that—?”

But Jungkook has already ripped into the fruit, sharp teeth shredding through it like paper. The juices gush down the sides of his mouth as he chews, staring at the fruit in amazement, no clue of human social norms or eating neatly. Jimin doesn’t think anyone in this swamp right now cares.

“‘S good,” Jungkook says around a mouthful, and then he takes another large bite.

Beside Jimin, Taehyung simply shrugs and cuts one of the grapefruits in half, holding it out to Jimin, who shakes his head for now. He’ll eat after he’s done with Jungkook’s hair, his hands a little too busy combing through long, black locks with his fingers and then working out knots with his brush.

Jungkook lounges in the water between Jimin’s legs. He had kept his promise to visit in the pond in front of the hut. Jimin sees why he doesn’t like it as much—the water is quite shallow, not pleasant to swim in, but it’s enough for Jungkook to easily make his way to Jimin and sit with him.

And then there’s the fact that the spot where the former owner of this hut used to torture him and steal his freedom is within view of this area. But he keeps his back to it for now and doesn’t seem too troubled.

“I’ve never brushed hair that’s this tangled before,” Jimin says. He slips his hand beneath Jungkook’s hair and holds it tight, carefully brushing the ends, one little section at a time and working his way up. “This is worse than the mangroves.”

Jungkook laughs around a mouthful of fruit, and then he wiggles back into the embrace of Jimin’s legs a little more. “You still say that after what happened yesterday? Those mangrove roots got the best of you.”

“Tch, yeah, right. Tell that to the roots that I overcame. Not a single one took me down,” Jimin says, lightly popping Jungkook on the shoulder with his brush. Besides him, Taehyung cackles, scooping out the inside of his grapefruit and spooning it into his mouth. He holds out a bite for Jimin, who leans in and snatches between his teeth.

Yesterday, Jimin had let Jungkook lead him deeper into the swamp, since Jimin hasn’t gone past Jungkook’s pond on his own. Before he knew Jungkook and after he was grabbed by him, Jimin was too afraid. After meeting him, it didn’t feel like there was a reason to go any further. But Jungkook had been so excited to show Jimin everything he hasn’t seen yet, so Jimin followed him wherever he went.

The tidal channels—and the roots crawling all over them—were a challenging adventure for Jimin, personally. Jungkook can just swim his way through them, but for Jimin it was a delicate balancing act, tiptoeing over tangled roots, the channels widening out in some areas and then becoming so narrow and the banks so steep that Jimin had to climb along them.

Then Jungkook took him to the brackish waters where the saltwater meets with the freshwater from the mountains and showed him all of the berries that grow there, as well as a freshwater spring they can put to use for drinking water. And then it was time to explore all the hidden paths and coves and nooks and crannies.

Jungkook has had years to explore this place, and he showed much of it to Jimin in a day. Jimin’s feet ached by the time they stopped, and Jungkook did nothing but apologize profusely for an hour for making him run around so much.

Jimin wouldn’t trade it for anything, though. He had enjoyed every second of it.

“So, have you figured out why he came to find that other witch before?” Taehyung asks, but Jimin shakes his head, refusing to take his eyes off of Jungkook. “Have you asked?”

“What’s he saying?” Jungkook asks, still chomping away at the grapefruit. He glances back at Jimin, eyes wide and probing until Jimin feels like he wants to scream.

Sometimes he wishes Jungkook would drag him into the water and drown him too. The things he feels every time Jungkook looks at him make him crazy.

“He wants to know why you left the sea and came to find that witch,” Jimin says, and Jungkook lets out a little “ah” before he goes back to eating. He doesn’t even refuse to answer, he just ignores the question entirely, and Jimin has to laugh. He looks at Taehyung and shrugs. “Guess he doesn’t want to say.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, a smirk on his face as he takes a bite of his fruit. He stares at Jimin for a moment and chews, and then a little chuckle leaves him. “Bet he would if it was just you asking.”

And now Jimin is the one to ignore him. He focuses on Jungkook’s hair again, his heart punching his ribs with heavy thuds. Jimin gulps and steadies his breathing. The unfortunate thing is that Taehyung is probably right, and it scares Jimin to have this connection with someone even though he loves it.

He doesn’t know what to do with this level of connection that he has with Jungkook.

“There we go,” Jimin says as he sets aside his brush. He runs his fingers through Jungkook’s hair over and over, now smooth and untangled. It falls in pretty, loose waves, no longer matted and unkempt. “All nice and new.”

Leaning further into Jimin’s lap, Jungkook tips his head back to stare up at Jimin, upside down, a huge grin on his face. “Thank you,” he says. “Will you do this for me again? It feels nice.”

“Of course.” Jimin stares down at him, running his hands along the sides of Jungkook’s face, down to cup beneath his chin. They trail down his throat, to his chest. Jimin knows he shouldn’t entertain this, but he can’t help himself.

Everything about Jungkook excites him.

Jimin so rarely feels this way with people, always so caught up in his studies and his pursuit of knowledge that he doesn’t take time to connect with others. He would never admit it, but his reason for summoning a familiar never had anything to do with needing someone to assist with his magic.

He had simply been lonely and looking for a friend.

“Ahem.”

Both Jimin and Jungkook whip their heads around to look at Taehyung, who shoves another spoonful of fruit into his mouth. He arches a brow, then points his spoon back and forth between the two of them.

“Do you need some privacy?”

“No,” Jimin says, looking away from Taehyung and pulling his hands away from Jungkook as quickly as he can. He rubs them over his own thighs and tries to smile at Jungkook, who stares at him curiously. Jimin has never been so thankful that Jungkook can’t understand Taehyung. He can just pretend not to notice that Jungkook wants to know what’s being said.

Taehyung pulls his feet from the water and hops up. “Well, I’m going to leave you anyway,” he says, as chipper as could be as he skips away. He waves at Jungkook over his shoulder and winks. “Have fun!”

“You little demon!” Jimin spits after him, then huffs as he turns his attention back to Jungkook. He tries to play it off and smile, even as Jungkook turns around to face him, doing that thing he does where he grips Jimin’s thighs to pull himself close. It makes Jimin’s pulse race, his fingers tingling with the urge to reach out and pull Jungkook to him.

“This feels much better now,” Jungkook says as he runs his fingers through his hair. He dips beneath the water for a moment, disappearing and allowing Jimin a second to catch his breath.

Jimin turns his head up to the sun, eyes closed, chest heaving as he tries to slow his heart. There are so many things that could go wrong if Jimin lets himself give in to what he wants. He already promised Jungkook he would try to break the curse. If he does that, Jungkook will leave. If he leaves, this ends.

And if Jimin lets himself feel too much—enough that he doesn’t want Jungkook to go—his heart won’t be in it when he casts the spell. His heart has to be in it. Magic doesn’t work without a witch pouring every bit of themselves into it.

Jimin startles out of his thoughts when he hears a splash and feels water crashing over him. He sputters, hands flying up to protect himself and then wipe water from his eyes. When he opens them, he sees Jungkook peeking just above the water with a grin, and Jimin purses his lips before suddenly kicking his feet to splash Jungkook back.

The laughter that leaves Jungkook is musical, not quite like his siren song, but just as intoxicating. It only makes Jimin grow fonder, and then more fearful of the way his heart stirs.

Jungkook swims back over to him, his tail splashing behind himself, fins sticking out slightly. Those spiny spikes along Jungkook’s back splay out for a moment, then flatten again, practically disappearing. His body intrigues Jimin in so many ways, some of which Jimin can’t entertain for long or he starts to feel… something.

Something he doesn’t want to let take control of him.

“What, um— What are those?” Jimin asks as he points over Jungkook’s shoulder, toward the spines along his back. “I noticed they only pop out sometimes. Is it a type of defense mechanism?”

Jungkook twists to look over his own shoulder, then nods. “They are very sharp. They come out when I feel threatened. Or if I just want them to. If anything tries to attack me from behind, it will get cut. They helped me the day I escaped my net and drowned that witch. Her ropes had weakened and the knots were loose. So I fought. And these cut right through.”

Jimin reaches for the spines, but Jungkook dodges away. His hand shoots up to snatch Jimin’s wrist, and he shakes his head.

“No. They are very sharp.” He brings Jimin’s hand to his mouth, kissing his knuckles. “You will get hurt.”

“‘Kay,” Jimin says as Jungkook lowers his hand back into his lap. “Sorry, guess I haven’t really… realized just how dangerous you are. I mean, your body. I mean— Not that I think about your body a lot. It’s just— I’ve— Anyway. I find you fascinating.”

Jungkook drifts closer still, back into Jimin’s lap, eyes peering up at him. “And I find you to be the same,” he says as he traces wet patterns along Jimin’s legs. Jimin’s toes curl in the mud beneath the water, hands coming to grip the grass on either side of him. His breath quickens as Jungkook lowers himself once again, gripping Jimin’s knees now as he spreads them.

His lips latch onto the inside of Jimin’s thigh, warm and wet, a quiet smacking sound echoing across the water’s surface as he kisses Jimin’s leg. His eyes dart up as though to gauge Jimin’s reaction, but all Jimin can do is gasp inward, choking on his tongue when he meets Jungkook’s gaze.

He shouldn’t do this. But he wants it so badly. It certainly hasn’t been as long for him as it has been for Jungkook, but Jimin doesn’t think he’s been touched like this in at least a year. And the fact that it is Jungkook doing this only stirs him that much more.

Jimin shivers at the slick slide of Jungkook’s tongue along his leg, up to the hem of his shorts where Jungkook presses another kiss. One arm loops around Jimin’s middle, pulling Jungkook closer as he kisses the bend of Jimin’s leg. It makes Jimin twitch, the gentle tickle of breath against such a sensitive, intimate spot.

It’s embarrassing how easily this arouses Jimin, his cock already aching behind the thin material of his shorts. He wonders if Jungkook somehow smells it on him, because his head whips around to stare up at Jimin again. A low growl builds in his throat, his dark eyes somehow blacker than usual as his hands trail up Jimin’s back beneath his shirt.

He lunges forward, sharp teeth flashing like he might rip into Jimin. Instead, his hands twist into Jimin’s shirt and hitch it up, lips on Jimin’s stomach, tongue flattening against his navel before he begins slinking downward.

The tiny sounds that leave Jimin feel shameful, back of his hand pressed to his mouth to silence them. He almost wants to glance back at the hut to check that Taehyung can’t see them, but he doesn’t get a chance before he feels the heat of Jungkook’s mouth against his cock, warming the material of his shorts. His tongue flicks out again, leaving a wet patch in its place, his nose running along the length of Jimin’s cock as it strains against his shorts.

“Wait,” Jimin gasps out, though it’s too quiet and weak for Jungkook to hear. He rips at the grass beside himself, legs squeezing together on either side of Jungkook’s head. “Jungkook, wait— Wait, please. Stop.”

Jungkook sinks into the water, up to his chin, his eyes frightened as he stares up at Jimin again. It takes Jimin a moment to catch his breath. Before he does, Jungkook asks, “Did you not want that? I thought—”

“No, no,” Jimin says. He raises a hand, palm out toward Jungkook. His eyes fixate on a single blade of grass as he wills his body to calm itself, to stop the heat rushing through it and the excitement that crashes against the inside of his ribs like a beast trying to escape its cage. “No, I just— I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I crossed a line.” Jungkook sighs, hands coming to rest on Jimin’s knees again. “Are you upset?”

Jimin shakes his head, dizzy as he reaches out to Jungkook again, who eagerly swims back into his arms. “I’m not,” he says, still breathless, arms sliding over Jungkook’s shoulders as the siren uses Jimin’s thighs to lift himself once more.

“I thought you would like that,” Jungkook says, salty sweet on Jimin’s tongue, the air between them growing unbearably hot when Jungkook leans in. His forehead comes to rest on Jimin’s, their noses bumping. He nuzzles close, pushing forward until Jimin pushes too, a gentle back and forth. Jimin can feel the urge, the desire, how badly they both want to kiss the other but refuse to be the one to move first.

Jimin can’t allow himself to say that he did, in fact, like it. He can’t give into this, even as his fingers tangle into Jungkook’s wet hair against his will. Sure, they could have a bit of fun. Fool around in a damned swamp. Then Jungkook could go free and neither of them would ever have to feel anything else about it. It could be a fond memory and nothing else.

But Jimin knows himself too well.

“I thought you wanted this because of the way you look at me,” Jungkook whispers, hands inching up Jimin’s thighs, up to grab his hips and wait once Jimin shakes his head.

“I don’t look at you,” Jimin lies, though his eyes betray him as he glances down at the wet, glistening body between his legs, and then pulls Jungkook too close to see anymore. His nose ghosts along Jungkook’s cheek, eyes closed, mouth open and tempted toward Jungkook’s as he resists.

Jungkook’s head tilts, and just as his mouth is about to meet Jimin’s, he shifts to one side and plants little kisses along Jimin’s jaw instead. “Yes, you do. You’re looking now.”

“My eyes are closed.”

“But you looked right before you closed them.”

Jimin doesn’t know how long he can keep up this game of dodge, the two of them dancing around each other. His breath quickens with every second that passes, his grip on Jungkook’s hair painfully tight. He tries to ease up, tries to pull away, but his body resists everything he tells it to do.

“We shouldn’t do this,” he says when he finally manages to move his hands, cupping either side of Jungkook’s face. Hands slip under Jimin’s shirt again, slick fingers curling against his abdomen to dive beneath the waistband of his shorts. He takes a risk and opens his eyes, still gasping in air like he’s been starved of it.

Jungkook dips down just slightly, still nose to nose with Jimin as he peers at him. “Why not?”

“Because I— Because I said so.”

“Why?” Jungkook pulls himself up again, arms winding around Jimin, pulling himself deeper between Jimin’s legs. They’re chest to chest, Jungkook’s face in the crook of Jimin’s neck, lips at his pulse.

“Jungkook, fuck—” Jimin chokes on his own voice, shivers at the sensation of sharp teeth ghosting over his throat. Jungkook closes the last bit of distance between them, halfway out of the pond, water rushing off his body and soaking Jimin’s clothes until they cling to his skin. “Fuck, just— Gods, okay. Okay, just—”

The smooth curve of Jungkook’s body where it fades from human skin to scale fits so nicely, perfect and firm, between Jimin’s thighs. A wet hand trails up his back, the other still pinning Jimin’s leg to the grass. He can feel water and muscle roiling as Jungkook presses forward, adding a pressure to Jimin that makes him want to cry. He wants more.

Jimin’s hips jolt forward of their own accord, nothing but the wet material of his shorts between them, wildfire consuming him from the inside out as his head snaps back. He can feel Jungkook watching him even though he doesn’t open his eyes, and then he feels lips press against his heaving chest, and he finally forces himself to look down.

Jungkook stares up at him with a grin that shows off every sharp edge of his teeth. His tongue slides out to lick away a droplet of water traveling down the center of Jimin’s chest before it can reach the low dip of his shirt.

“Told you,” Jungkook says, his words trailing off into a mix of a growl and a purr before he rises up again, water sloshing around him, until he towers over Jimin, bending him backwards into the grass. “You looked.”

The sheer size and strength of his body forces Jimin’s legs apart, the weight of him pressing down against Jimin’s cock and giving him the slightest bit of the friction he needs. Jimin’s head spins as he plants his hands behind himself, lifting his hips, the texture of wet material against scales sending a zap of pleasure up his spine like lightning.

Jimin sighs, eyes falling shut, head tipping back to leave his throat exposed to Jungkook like he’s prey, ready to be taken. That’s what he feels like. And he’s never wanted to be hunted so badly.

“Just kiss me.”

Jungkook’s mouth stretches into a grin. That grin. The playful one he always gets with Jimin. But he doesn’t waste time before he grabs the back of Jimin’s neck and tugs him forward. A little noise catches in Jimin’s throat, his breath hitching at the sudden touch of lips on his, hands flying back up to Jungkook’s hair.

He can feel Jungkook hesitate, nipping at Jimin’s lips experimentally, almost uncertain about what to do or how to do it. His tongue flicks against Jimin’s mouth, a signal for him to stop for a moment. It takes everything for Jimin to lean back and look at him.

“Sirens do not usually… kiss like this,” Jungkook says, keeping Jimin close but not close enough. “It’s been quite some time. Some of my kind, including myself, experimented with intimacy we saw humans engage in. Sometimes we did that with humans we met. But it has been a very long time.”

“Well,” Jimin says as his legs squeeze around Jungkook again, hips rocking forward. He wonders what that feels like for Jungkook. He’s seen what Jungkook’s body looks like in his human form. Does he feel the way Jimin feels right now or something different? “You did just fine when you kissed my legs before. I promise, it all feels good. I’ll be good practice for you. Just do what you did before and follow your gut.”

Jungkook’s smile returns. He leans in, nose bumping against Jimin’s. “I can do that,” is the last thing he says before he drags Jimin back into the kiss, no hesitation this time and no fumbling. Even if it’s a little clumsy, a little messy, he kisses Jimin in such a way that he feels like he’s drowning. The world fades away, just the warmth of Jungkook’s mouth and the slide of his hands beneath Jimin’s wet clothes.

Even if they didn’t have their potion, they speak the same language now. A language of skin on skin and heavy, panted breaths. Of stolen touches that no one should ever be deprived of. Jungkook never should have been left for years without this, starved of the reverence a man like him deserves.

And Jimin?

Well, Jimin is strangely glad he’s kept to himself for so long. It makes this all that much more electrifying for him.

Right now, Jimin feels more like a beast than Jungkook could ever be. He has hungered for this, pawing at Jungkook, tugging at his hair, gripping his shoulders to pull him in deeper. A war of emotion rocks through Jimin, a nagging sense of danger clashing with forbidden desire. He knows he’s prey, no matter how much he feels like the monster clawing into Jungkook right now, fingers scraping scales as he silently begs Jungkook to push against him harder.

He feels something rough beneath his fingers as they slip over the scales along Jungkook’s hip, and he realizes it must be that scar from what the witch did to him. It sends a full-body shiver through Jungkook, shuddering so hard that Jimin can hear the water splash up around his tail. Jimin tightens his grip on the siren, legs wrapped around him, the tremors that rush through Jungkook sending another wave of arousal through Jimin.

Jungkook’s lips part, pressing an openmouthed kiss to Jimin’s mouth before he pauses. He holds Jimin there, just like he did before, not quite kissing him as he trades their breath back and forth. And then he sinks down suddenly, head between Jimin’s thighs, most of his body submerged underwater again.

“Up,” he says as his fingers curl into the waistband of Jimin’s shorts again, tugging on them. Jimin can’t be bothered to think as he lifts his hips and lets Jungkook slide the wet material down his legs, can’t care when he plants his ass right back down on the wet grass and dirt.

Who could possibly care when they have a man as beautiful as Jungkook between their legs?

Jimin leans back on his elbows as Jungkook flings his shorts aside, webbed hands splaying across Jimin’s legs, tongue sliding out, the pointed tip of it flicking against Jimin’s cock. Heat rushes through Jimin’s thighs, anticipation building low in his stomach. His legs twitch in the water when Jungkook lifts himself up to bear over Jimin, pinning him down with his weight, his mouth right over Jimin’s cock.

He smirks, his breath hot against Jimin, long tongue wetting his lips and curling close. But not close enough.

“Fuck,” Jimin says as his head tilts back. Jungkook is teasing. So he’s unsure about kissing but he can do this. “Would you just—”

Jimin pushes off the ground and bucks his hips up, but Jungkook only pushes him back down, and then a sharp, hissing noise leaves him. It’s loud and chilling, making Jimin shudder under the powerful weight of the siren. It sounds like a threat, though Jungkook’s grin is anything but threatening. Jimin actually laughs, eyes rolling, and then spreads his legs wider and lets himself fall back in the grass.

Jungkook can’t seem to resist the temptation now. He dives down to kiss the inside of Jimin’s thigh, pushing his hair back from his face. He shakes the damp locks back, eyes darting up to meet Jimin’s, and then lowers himself to run his tongue along the length of Jimin’s cock. He’s almost experimental about it, testing how Jimin likes it—the pressure, the angle, how much of his tongue to use.

He tilts his head, hands on the insides of Jimin’s legs to keep them far apart, before he kisses the underside of Jimin’s cock. His lips ghost along it, several gentle kisses all the way up, all the way to the tip where he wraps his lips around it and sucks lightly.

When he lifts his head again, his tongue slipping from between sharp teeth, Jimin loses his breath. Sweat clings to his skin, his shirt pushed up high as Jungkook’s hands trail all over his stomach. A strange, slick substance slides along Jungkook’s tongue before he turns his head again and wraps it around Jimin’s cock.

It’s so long that it circles all the way around him, that slick substance making the slide easy. His tongue curls around Jimin’s cock and then trails upward, the pointed tip of his tongue pressing into the slit and making Jimin writhe in the dirt. He’s in pure bliss, staring down at Jungkook and the way he seems to work every inch of Jimin with just his tongue.

He has no idea what that substance is on Jungkook’s tongue, but he feels little sparks of pleasure on his cock everywhere it touches. It’s not something he’s felt with any other man’s mouth on his cock, nor has he read anything about what it might be in his studies of sirens.

It makes him feel warm and tingly, a sort of languor washing over his body and making him almost limp against the grass. His head lolls, mouth open in quiet moans and gasps. The sound of his own pleasure makes Jimin all that much more excited, how easily Jungkook has him falling apart beneath wet, webbed hands, and just his tongue wrapped around him.

Jimin feels like he’s sinking into a blissful oblivion, pinpricks of euphoria everywhere that Jungkook’s tongue touches. He can hardly focus enough to meet Jungkook’s eyes when his tongue slides further, curling beneath Jimin’s balls and pressing against his perineum. He doesn’t understand what it makes him feel, a strange symphony of burning pleasure, as if a thousand sharp fibers dance across him when Jungkook’s tongue trails back up. He can’t make sense of it or the way it rips through his body in a sweet, twisted sort of pleasure.

His veins burn as Jungkook dips his tongue into the slit of Jimin’s cock again, hands sliding over Jimin’s torso, tracing every inch of it, then dragging his nails back down. Jimin feels like he’s floating in the water with Jungkook, weightless, a pleasant fluttering sensation dancing through his body until every part of him feels so, so satisfied.

With one last kiss to the tip of Jimin’s cock, Jungkook tilts his head and wraps it up with his tongue again, working up and down, up and down, lips occasionally suctioning against it to change up the sensations until Jimin is panting out Jungkook’s name.

There’s a quiet growl from Jungkook, more of that slick substance coating Jimin’s cock until it whips his pleasure up into a blaze. Jimin cries out, heels digging into mud as he bucks upward, fucking into the tight squeeze of the siren’s tongue around him. Something about hearing Jimin seems to excite Jungkook, his grip on Jimin almost painful as he urges Jimin to keep going, to chase his orgasm.

Jimin feels it strike him like a hot iron, a thousand suns exploding inside him as he comes so suddenly that it makes his entire body jerk. His hands fly above his head to grip the grass, chest heaving, fists tearing out chunks of grass. He forces himself to look down at Jungkook, and then regrets it as soon as he sees that little smirk on his face.

Jungkook grips Jimin’s hips as his tongue slides away from his cock, trailing along the underside again and licking over the sensitive tip. Another shock rushes through Jimin, that burning, tingling sensation washing over his skin and making the hairs across his body stand up. It’s almost too much, and yet Jimin doesn’t want it to stop, doesn’t want Jungkook to quit as he licks away the mess Jimin left across his own stomach.

Letting his head fall back in the grass, Jimin takes a moment to catch his breath as Jungkook nuzzles against his stomach. He pulls himself up to lie on Jimin like a pillow, tracing Jimin’s ribs over and over. The sky above Jimin swims, the clouds hazy. He can feel a smile on his face. He doesn’t even mean to, he just feels euphoric.

Wildly euphoric. Untamed.

His fingers are numb from whatever Jungkook did to him with that liquid on his tongue, his limbs completely limp. He can barely move even as he feels Jungkook begin to pepper kisses up the middle of his stomach.

Jimin gasps as he feels himself tugged closer to Jungkook, deeper into the water so Jungkook can lie between his legs, head on Jimin’s chest. He leans right over Jimin’s heart, spiny, webbed ear resting there to listen. He must hear how he makes Jimin’s heart pound. How he excites him. Jimin lets his hands come to rest on Jungkook’s back, delicate touches that make Jungkook shiver atop him, the sensation traveling through Jimin’s body, between his legs where Jungkook rests.

“Flip us over,” Jimin whispers, fingers in Jungkook’s hair now. He brushes through it, cupping Jungkook’s nape when the siren peers up at him. Even through the delirium of pleasure, his body spent, Jimin smiles back at Jungkook. “Flip us over. Let me make you feel good too.”

He’s already in this deep. He’s already drowning. Might as well sink all the way and give himself to the sea now.

Jungkook slides away from him, letting Jimin push himself upright and scoot closer to the water. He moves aside to let Jungkook pull himself onto land as Jimin tugs his shirt off and tosses it aside. Only fair that he’s completely naked too when Jungkook never has any clothes either.

“How far out of the water can you go and still stay in this form?” Jimin asks, earning a curious look from Jungkook.

“As far as I want, just not for too long.” Jungkook’s hands twist into the grass as he pulls himself from the water, right beside Jimin where he kneels. “Jimin, why—”

“Shh,” Jimin says as he leans in, catching Jungkook in another kiss. Jungkook sits part way in the water still, his tail half hidden as Jimin throws one leg over it to straddle him, hands flattened across Jungkook’s chest. He slides them up, over Jungkook’s shoulders, around to wind behind his neck and pull the siren close.

Jimin shivers from the wet touch of fingers across his back, drawing lines down to his hips, then further to grip his ass. He gasps at the gentle squeeze, webbed hands kneading at the flesh, fingers slipping between his cheeks and teasing his rim. Jungkook’s fingers feel naturally slick, like if he wanted to, he could push them right past that ring of muscle and take Jimin apart right here.

But that’s not what they’re here for now. Jimin knows what he wants, so he leans his weight forward and flattens Jungkook against the grass, his legs on either side of the siren. It’s a strange feeling, resting atop him like this with cock pressed against Jungkook’s stomach, right where scale meets skin. It’s certainly new.

His scales feel slippery between Jimin’s thighs, wet even when he’s out of the water. Jimin almost wishes Jungkook had taken his shorts off of him earlier so he could see what this feels like against his cock when it’s hard. He’s not sure if he should be enjoying this as much as he is, but when he rises to look down at Jungkook, all he sees there is bliss. And that’s what matters.

“Has anyone ever touched you like this before?” Jimin asks as he leans down again, nose pressing into the crook of Jungkook’s neck, kissing along the gills and down to his collarbone. Jungkook’s hands continue exploring Jimin’s body, trailing over his back, up to his shoulders to grip them and pull Jimin until he has Jimin’s face pressed against his chest.

Jimin chuckles before he presses a kiss right at the hollow of Jungkook’s throat. He can feel Jungkook shake his head, his answer delayed but enough to spur Jimin on.

His hands slide down Jungkook’s chest, over the solid swell of his pecs, Jimin’s lips following them down. His eyes dart up to watch Jungkook as he flicks his tongue out against Jungkook’s nipple.

There’s a moment of shock on Jungkook’s face, mouth dropping open. His hands flex against Jimin’s back, quick pants of breath escaping him. He watches Jimin in wonder, sheer awe at the sparks of pleasure he must feel everywhere. Jimin wonders if it’s simply because sirens don’t do things like this or if it’s because he’s starved of this sort of touch for so long.

Just as Jimin is about to move on, working his way down Jungkook’s body, he feels a hand in his hair tug him back up. He can’t help but laugh at the way Jungkook so shamelessly pulls Jimin right back to where he had been, coaxing Jimin’s lips against his nipple again. Jimin happily laves his tongue over it, letting his hands trail downward.

His forehead comes to rest on Jungkook’s chest, catching his breath before he begins working openmouthed kisses across every inch of his skin, fingers dancing across the top of his tail, tracing the shapes of his scales. Jimin lets his breath tickle across Jungkook’s stomach, tongue darting out as he goes. He can hear Jungkook’s breath quicken, feels the subtle vibration of a moan working its way through the siren, his body pulling taut and writhing from the pleasure Jimin gives him.

Jungkook’s hands tighten in Jimin’s hair, then loosen, then tighten again. His chest rises and falls, heavy breath punched from his lungs with every touch. Sharp teeth gnaw at his bottom lip, then release it to let his tongue work over it instead. He looks just like he did that day he touched himself in front of Jimin, eyes darkened with pleasure, body arching for more. Jimin can hear a growl building in Jungkook’s throat, tail thrashing in the water slightly.

With another little hush to calm Jungkook down, Jimin slips partially into the water, knees sinking into the mud, and he leans over to the side of Jungkook’s tail. His fingers slide along the smooth, slick surface of it, feeling the subtle ridges of each scale, and he presses a kiss to the scarred patch of skin below Jungkook’s hip.

Jungkook’s hands snap down to grip the ground beside him, muscles rippling through his tail as he thrashes in the water hard enough to send a small wave crashing against Jimin’s legs. Jimin flattens his hand across Jungkook’s stomach, then kisses that spot again, and again, then again until he feels a hand cradling his head once more.

“Jimin, I— ah— Come— Come here.” Jungkook’s throat bobs when Jimin peers up at him again. It tempts Jimin right back up his body, back up to meet in another kiss, Jungkook’s tongue flicking against the tip of Jimin’s playfully. “Why?”

Jimin freezes, hands gripping Jungkook’s shoulders as he pushes himself back to stare down at the man beneath him. He rubs his thumbs along Jungkook’s collarbones—anything to keep touching him, to keep seeing the way Jungkook’s eyes lose focus and his smile gets all dazed and happy.

“Why?” Jimin repeats. “What do you mean? I—”

“Why are you doing this?” Jungkook asks. He shivers when Jimin lets his fingers dance along his chest again, when he leans down to kiss along jaw. Jimin works his way up to Jungkook’s ear, nudging it lightly with his nose before he kisses his way over to Jungkook’s lips.

“Because you deserve to feel a kind touch,” Jimin whispers into Jungkook’s mouth. He may not have a siren song, but the way Jungkook pulls him tight against his body, how viscerally he reacts to those words, makes it seem like he does.

Jungkook grips the back of Jimin’s neck, no more hesitancy or awkwardness in his kisses. He captures Jimin’s mouth with his own, rapturous in the way he kisses him. His lips part, forcing Jimin’s open too, tongue slipping inside to mimic the sensation of fucking Jimin’s mouth with it. And then he suddenly slows down, cupping Jimin’s face with his hands, nudging Jimin’s cheek with his nose as he kisses him once, then again. Slow, deliberate kisses. Little pecks that linger just long enough.

“Can you— Is it only in your human form that you—?” Jimin gasps between kisses. He doesn’t know how to ask this, and it’s clear that Jungkook doesn’t know what he means when he pulls back to look at Jimin. He keeps tracing patterns along Jungkook’s skin, runs his hands along his arms, up to wrists to pin them above Jungkook’s head. Jimin rocks forward, another spike of arousal rushing through him as his cock slides against Jungkook’s stomach, even when he’s already spent.

Jungkook stares up at him, face to face as Jimin drops little kisses on the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t know how he resisted this long. Touching Jungkook like this, feeling him this close, seeing the way Jungkook looks at him when Jimin pleases him, makes him feel good. It’s intoxicating.

“Is there a way for me to… get you off?” Jimin asks. “Like you did for me, I mean. Do you have to shift for that?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen for a moment, and then he laughs and shakes his head. “No, no, you can— Here.” He wiggles his hands free from Jimin, who sits up and scoots back when Jungkook nudges his hip.

Jimin slides right down when he sits on Jungkook’s tail, slippery scales giving him no grip. Jungkook takes hold of Jimin’s wrist, his other arm propping himself halfway to watch as he presses Jimin’s hand at the v-line of his hips, then pushes it down.

It’s a strange sensation at first, letting his hand press against wet scales, following Jungkook’s guidance as he makes Jimin rub a gentle circle over them. He can feel a slight shift, like a muscle flexing, a slight ripple across Jungkook’s tail. His eyes drift up to meet Jungkook’s, lost in the smile on the siren’s face and how his eyes begin to droop as though overwhelmed by Jimin’s touch.

The rigid texture of his scale suddenly gives way, and Jimin gasps as he feels warmth beneath his palm. He looks down to see a small split in Jungkook’s tail, the scales seeming to have pulled away and tucked beneath the others to leave smooth skin in its place. Jungkook keeps guiding Jimin’s hand, up and down along that smooth surface, fingers dipping ever so slightly into a soft slit in the skin until he feels another twitch of muscle.

“Oh.” Jimin laughs in sheer disbelief, and then he gulps down his surprise as he feels Jungkook’s cock push past the split in his tail and into his palm. His mouth runs dry at the sight of it—long and thick enough that Jimin almost suspects he won’t be able to fit his hand around it. It’s not unlike a human cock, just larger with slightly raised lines along the sides and ridges on the underside that Jimin imagines would feel wonderful inside of him.

It’s already hard, like he’s been aroused this whole time and Jimin just couldn’t see it. He wonders how that felt for Jungkook. Is it just as unpleasant for him to hold back, untouched, as it is for a human? If Jimin hadn’t asked, would he not have had Jimin touch him like this at all?

Just like the rest of his tail and across his hands, Jungkook cock seems to be naturally wet and slick. Jimin’s hand slides over it with ease, his fingers stretched wide to accommodate as much of it as he can at once.

“Does that feel good?” Jimin asks, leaning down again when he feels Jungkook’s hand on his back, easing him forward. He lets himself be drawn right back in, a whisper of “yes” against his lips when he kisses Jungkook again. That’s all Jimin needs to hear. He wants Jungkook to feel as good as he did, wants to see him reach that same peak of ecstasy.

Jimin keeps one hand around Jungkook’s cock, stroking it slowly as he works his way back down Jungkook’s body, kissing along his ribs and down the middle line of his abs. His other hand comes to rest on that scarred patch of skin, thumb stroking it over and over. He wraps his lips around Jungkook’s nipple again, lets the siren tangle his hair and move him wherever he wants.

He gives Jungkook everything. Gives him anything he can. Jungkook’s heart pounds beneath Jimin’s lips as he presses a kiss over it, counts the beats and times each kiss with them as he goes, until he sinks back into the water with his face just above Jungkook’s cock.

His lips wrap around the tip, despite how unsure he is about how to do this, how much of it he can actually take in. Jimin mimics what Jungkook had done for him, licking along the underside and feeling each gentle ridge as he goes, all the way back up. His hand strokes at the base, lips kissing along the sides, tongue pushing into the slit at the tip. He stretches his lips around what he can, moaning at the mere sensation of how much it fills him, the weight of it pushing down on his tongue.

Jungkook’s tail twitches beneath him again, pressing up between Jimin’s legs and making him tremble from the sheer power behind it, pressing against every overly sensitive part of Jimin. Jimin bobs his head down, pushing further, hand stroking quicker when he feels Jungkook’s cock twitch against his tongue. His jaw aches, spit building at the corners of his mouth, practically drooling over the already slick head.

“Jimin, I— Jimin, Jimin, Jimin,” Jungkook chants, trying to pull at Jimin to make him stop, but Jimin pushes Jungkook’s hand away from his hair.

It doesn’t taste quite the same as a human when Jungkook snaps his hips up and comes down Jimin’s throat. It’s sudden and salty, but not unpleasant. Still, Jimin coughs and sputters, choking around it as Jungkook’s cock slips a little too deep into his throat. He has to pull off suddenly, trying to catch his breath, tongue darting out to lick away what he can around his mouth.

His hand keeps working around the length, stroking from base to tip, thumb pushing against the ridges when he realizes that pressure there seems to make Jungkook feel even better. Jimin focuses his attention on taking in the details of Jungkook’s face as it twists in pleasure, his mouth open wide in low, long moans, sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight. His hands rip at the ground around him, digging out clods of grass as he finishes spilling over Jimin’s hand and across himself.

His breaths sound raspy and harsh, but Jimin can see the smile on his face. He looks so blissful, head falling back against the grass. Jimin lets go of Jungkook to rinse his hand off in the water before he crawls his way back up the siren’s body.

Jimin doesn’t know what possesses him, but he dives down to kiss along the gills on Jungkook’s neck again, running his tongue along one, pressing in until he feels Jungkook’s nails dig into his back and his throat bob as he tries to swallow down another moan. Jimin feels himself tugged down, flat against Jungkook’s body, his arms wound around Jimin so tightly that Jimin feels like he’s about to be dragged to the depths of the sea and drowned. That is what this strength is meant to be for. Instead, Jungkook uses it to hold Jimin like a lifeline.

“Jimin,” Jungkook gasps out, hand splayed across Jimin’s cheek as he looks him in the eyes. He looks like he’s in a trance, lacking focus as he studies Jimin’s face. “Can we do that again?”

“Oh,” Jimin chuckles, “well, I think we probably have to wait a little longer—”

But he can feel the twitch of Jungkook’s cock against his stomach, and he lifts himself up and glances down, eyes widening.

“Oh,” Jimin says again, mouth watering when he sees Jungkook’s cock already hardening again. So it doesn’t take long for him to be ready again. Good to know. Jimin glances up at Jungkook with a smile, laughing when the siren wiggles beneath him slightly. “Sure thing.”

 

˗ˏˋ☾´ˎ˗

 

For days after that first intimate moment with Jungkook, Jimin feels like he’s walking on clouds. Everywhere he goes now, he’s light as a feather. Jungkook has a spell over him, and he didn’t even have to use his siren song.

Jimin has fallen so deeply for a siren that should never have been here in the first place, and he’s afraid of where it goes from here. He can pretend all he wants that they have a future together that isn’t fraught with danger and distance. Jungkook will return to the sea, and even if he comes back, what if one day he just… doesn’t?

There’s so much out there in the sea. Dangerous things. Monsters. Humans who would sooner kill Jungkook than admire his beauty the way Jimin does. Jimin selfishly wants to protect himself, knowing he can’t protect Jungkook forever.

He’s been studying Jungkook’s curse and how to break it, though he still feels like he’s far from figuring it out. A week ago, he sent a letter off to Seokjin, asking him for advice on what to do.

What he doesn’t expect is for the wall beside his fireplace to suddenly warp and twist as he and Taehyung study on the floor as usual. They both stare at it, watching as the wall reshapes into a doorway carved elegantly from a deep, red-toned wood. It looks completely out of place inside the hut, and then it bursts open dramatically.

If it wasn’t painfully obvious to them who would make such a dramatic entrance, Jimin and Taehyung would likely be on guard. But Jimin knew from the second he felt a hint of magic in the air that it would be Seokjin striding through the door, robes flowing around him. It takes mere seconds for Jimin to recognize those robes as being Namjoon’s, so he can imagine he just got done doing gods know what with the archfiend before coming here. He’s glowing.

“Good evening, my little sweets,” Seokjin says as he raises his hand and snaps his fingers. The door slams shut behind him. “I got your letter.”

“How did you get past my wards?” Jimin asks, eyes narrowing as he glances at the door, surprised that Namjoon isn’t following him.

“Jimin, darling,” Seokjin pouts his lip out in a gesture of pity for Jimin, “you’re very powerful. You’re not that powerful.”

Well, that stings just a bit. However, Jimin is used to things like this from Seokjin. He doesn’t mean any harm by it, he’s just brutally honest. And he’s right. Jimin is nowhere near as powerful as Seokjin yet. There’s a reason Seokjin is the head of their coven, a reason why he’s so well-respected and why everyone goes to him for advice.

“I got your letter,” Seokjin says with a glance around the hut. He wrinkles his nose. “This is where you moved to? I thought Namjoon was exaggerating when he described it to me. You know we could have made a deal with Namjoon together and he could have given you a whole house.”

“No, thanks,” Jimin says as he flicks a stray dried herb in Seokjin’s direction. “We prefer our abodes to be humble.”

“Speak for yourself,” Taehyung says with a nod at Seokjin. “I’ll suck Namjoon’s dick for a better house— Ow!”

He pouts, rubbing his leg where Jimin had kicked him. Jimin snaps the book in front of him shut and leans back on his hands, smiling up at Seokjin.

“I wasn’t expecting you to show up,” Jimin says, legs splayed out in front of himself, feet wiggling back and forth. “I thought you would just send a letter back.”

“You said it was urgent.” Seokjin pauses his lap around the hut, head turning to Jimin. His eyes narrow. “Why are you so chipper?”

“I’m not chipper. Who said I’m chipper?” Jimin asks as he puffs up his chest, planting a frown on his face so that he does not, in fact, look chipper. He can see Taehyung out of the corner of his eye, grinning like mad, tongue flicking out excitedly. “I just slept well last night.”

Taehyung laughs out loud, head thrown back. “Oh? Yeah?” he asks, stretching his leg across the floor to poke Jimin’s leg, over and over until Jimin smacks his foot. “And why are you suddenly sleeping so well? What’s got you so relaxed at night now, huh?”

Jimin sputters a bit before he catches Taehyung’s ankle and tries to drag him across the floor. Still cackling, Taehyung kicks and squirms and crawls away from Jimin, sticking his forked tongue out at him as he squats behind Seokjin’s legs. He wraps his arms around the other witch and hides behind him, peeking out just enough to keep making faces at Jimin.

“Jiminie?” Seokjin asks, arms crossed and brow arched. “I have suspicions but I’m not sure I want them confirmed.”

Glancing between Seokjin and Taehyung, Jimin splutters a bit more and then throws his hands up. “What? I haven’t done anything!”

“You certainly did do something,” Taehyung pipes up, poking his head out around Seokjin’s legs. “Or someone— Ah!”

He dodges again, hiding behind Seokjin, nothing but his laughter filling the room. Seokjin stares at Jimin, who stares right back. Jimin can feel his eyes going wider and rounder with every passing second. He tries to steady his breathing, but this is the head of his coven eying him and waiting for him to crack under the pressure.

“Are you fucking the siren you wrote about—?”

“No!”

“Yes!” Taehyung’s voice rings out before he suddenly vanishes. Jimin hears something flop onto the floor, and then a snake slithers out from behind Seokjin and under Jimin’s bed.

“You only made it easier for me to squish you!” Jimin calls after him, then he flops back on the floor to stare up at the rafters. Herbs hang from them as they dry, dousing the hut in their fresh, earthy scents. “Listen, I only fooled around with him once—”

Seokjin lets out a dramatic cry before he drops onto Jimin’s bed, bouncing on it slightly before he plunks his head in his hands. “Do you have any idea the complications that can bring up? A human with a siren— First of all, think about the difference in your lifespans,” Seokjin says as he sits upright and points a finger at Jimin. “Sirens can live up to 500 years. You won’t even live half that long. And a lot of sirens don’t make it past 200 or 300 because their lives are so fraught with danger. So even if you did live longer, what about him? He could be killed the second we let him go back to sea!”

“You think I haven’t thought about that?” Jimin asks as he pushes himself upright, jaw set stubbornly. “I keep thinking about that. I keep thinking about how I might not get to see him again. But you know what I’m working toward, why I’ve been working with Yoongi! If I can become as powerful as you, lifespan is no concern. I could live as long as I want—”

“And what about his people?” Seokjin asks. “If he finds his people again, even if he came back to you, they would never allow it. Sirens hate humans. They would eat you. They would never approve of him being with you, and if he tried to stay, they would kill you to prevent that.”

“I—” Jimin presses his lips together tightly. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. He’s been so sure that Jungkook wouldn’t even stick around that he hadn’t considered what Jungkook’s people would think about him if he found them again.

“And what about you? If he stuck around, witches already have a target on their back these days,” Seokjin says. “You mentioned in your letter that there are humans who are suspicious of this place already because of him? If they want to hurt you or him, now they have double the reason to do it. They can kill two birds with one stone.”

Jimin hangs his head, his throat tight. His eyes burn, and he has to squeeze his eyes shut to stop any tears from falling.

“I’m sorry, Jimin, I’m not trying to be so negative, but it’s— There are so many problems that can come from a relationship between a human and any other kind of creature,” Seokjin says. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt because you fell for someone whose life is just… too different from yours.”

“And what about you and Namjoon?” Jimin asks, barely able to make himself speak loudly enough. He lifts his chin to look Seokjin in the eye as he answers.

“That’s different,” Seokjin says, “and you know it. A witch working with a demon and sleeping with him as part of that is nothing like you, who has a tendency to love way too fast and way too much, falling for someone whose life is entirely incompatible with yours. I’m not saying it can’t happen. But I’m saying it’s unlikely to end well.”

Jimin huffs out an angry sigh, looking out the open front door, right at the pond where he and Jungkook had first kissed, where they first touched. He knew it was stupid at the time, but now his heart spins into a panicked rush of frantic, unsteady beats.

How does he do this in a way that protects him and Jungkook? He could see it and feel it when they were together that Jungkook feels something for him too. There’s something between them, even when Jimin tried not to let that happen.

The second he held Jungkook’s pleasure at his fingertips, the second he saw him blossoming beneath him and trusting Jimin to care for him as he promised he would, Jimin knew it was too late. He doesn’t know where to go from here.

“I don’t want you to get hurt, Jimin,” Seokjin says. “By him or otherwise. Do you even know who he was among his people? What were his duties? Why did he come here? If he goes back to them, his status there will also affect that.”

Jimin doesn’t answer. He stares down at the books scattered around him, his nail scraping against the floor over and over to distract himself. He doesn’t know anything about Jungkook, really, and yet he feels so much for him already. It’s impossible to guess whether or not learning more would help Jimin let go or make him sink deeper into what he already feels.

As though Jungkook can sense that Jimin is thinking about him, the sound of a siren song begins to drift into the hut. Jimin’s head whips around to look at the pond, but there’s no sign of Jungkook there, so he hops to his feet and looks toward the mangroves. His song sounds exactly like it did on Jimin’s first few nights here, so he must be calling from the pond where they first met.

“I should… go see what he needs,” Jimin says as his gaze falls to his basket on the counter. There are more goods there from Hoseok that Jimin planned to give to Jungkook, so he slides the basket handle into the crook of his elbow and turns to Seokjin, cocking his brow at the witch as he waits to be challenged.

Seokjin stares at him for a moment, then waves a hand and sighs. “Go on. I’ll be here, working out this curse, I guess. Just don’t keep me waiting. I have to meet with Namjoon again tonight.”

Jimin lets his feet carry him to the door without much thought. His chest feels empty, aching as he crosses the clearing and ducks beneath the mangroves. The humidity chokes him, his clothes clinging to his skin. It makes him want to shed them, just strip right down and throw himself into the water with Jungkook.

He ducks beneath twisted branches, and his eyes immediately come to rest on Jungkook’s smiling face. He sits in the water with his hand gripping a small, wooden boat. The whole thing is covered in muck and fallen leaves, the wood cracked and bowing out in some areas. Jungkook clings to the side of it, holding himself part way out of the water, rivulets curling along his chest.

Gods, he’s so pretty. It actually makes Jimin shiver to look at him and remember the way Jungkook kissed him, how he had touched Jungkook.

“Look!” Jungkook cheers, happily rocking the decrepit old boat back and forth. He holds up his webbed hand for Jimin to wait, and then he reaches into the boat and shakes one of the vials of their potion before downing it in one gulp.

Jimin fumbles for the one in his basket, quickly drinking it before corking the vial and putting it back. When he looks at Jungkook again, he can see how excited he is to talk about his discovery.

“This belonged to the other witch. It cut loose and drifted away,” Jungkook explains. “But she was too afraid to come get it because she thought I would drown her if she got in the water.”

“Well, she wasn’t wrong, was she?” Jimin asks with a chuckle as he squats at the bank. He sets aside his basket and reaches out as Jungkook swims closer, pulling the boat along with him. Jimin catches hold of it and drags it up and into the mud.

Jungkook laughs along with him, and Jimin feels a happy flutter in his chest that Jungkook is no longer afraid of Jimin judging him for that. He understands now that Jimin doesn’t think any less of him for defending himself. Jimin would never think less of him, no matter what.

With a grunt, Jimin gets the boat situated so it won’t float away. He supposes they’ll have to get it back in the water and float it back to the pond behind the hut at some point. That’s likely where she kept it, right at the rotten, unusable dock there. But he can’t ask Jungkook to bring it back for him. Not after the torture he endured there.

“If we fix it up, you can use it to explore the swamp with me,” Jungkook says as he crawls part way out of the water, holding himself up to meet Jimin as he squats down. Jungkook’s arms flex, fingers curling into the mud. He smiles so widely, every one of his sharp teeth on display. “Maybe even the sea if we break the curse. You can go see where I’m from. Have you ever seen the sea? It’s beautiful.”

Jimin’s heart begins to sink, the fondness for Jungkook’s home so clear in his voice. It’s hard to imagine that he won’t immediately swim away and never come back to Jimin if they manage to break the curse. But it’s not up to Jimin whether or not Jungkook should get to do that. He never should have been stuck here in the first place.

When it comes to nature, Jimin cannot be selfish. That’s his code. Naturally, Jungkook never should have been here, so it’s Jimin’s duty to return him to where he belongs. Jungkook is meant for the sea.

Jimin stands up and takes a few steps back as Jungkook pulls himself out of the water. His tail splits and reforms into two human legs, just like they did that first night Jimin saw him, though this time he’s significantly less scared. This time, he reaches out and accepts Jungkook into his arms with a smile.

Jungkook kisses him so warmly, hands on either side of Jimin’s face, a smile on his lips as he forces Jimin’s apart. His tongue presses in, tracing Jimin’s teeth with a chuckle, like it’s entertaining to him to feel and taste and play with Jimin like this.

He kisses like he was made for it, like he was made to love. He drowns Jimin in his affections, hands engulfing him and pulling him closer and closer, until all Jimin can breathe in anymore is Jungkook. It feels like he’s underwater, the strength of Jungkook’s arms around him like the pressure of the sea, pulling him down, down, down. And he gladly lets it take him.

Jungkook’s tongue pushes back into Jimin’s mouth, pressing Jimin’s tongue down and filling him until he knows nothing else but him. It makes Jimin want so much more. He wants to feel Jungkook in every part of him, every fiber of his being. Wants to know just him.

When Jungkook finally breaks away, he leaves one last peck on Jimin’s lips, wet and warm. His hands slide up and down Jimin’s arms, sparkles in his eyes as he looks over Jimin from head to toe, like a thousand stars dancing through the darkest depths of sky. Jimin could stare into his eyes for hours and never grow tired of it.

“Can you… show me something?” Jungkook asks, pulling Jimin from his reverie.

“Uh, sure,” Jimin says with a little tilt of his head. He lets his hands roam over Jungkook’s ribs, down to trace the sharp angle of his hipbones, and tries to ignore the way Jungkook’s smile grows from that touch alone. “What?”

“Your back. I noticed the other day, when we were together,” Jungkook says, and Jimin has to force his mind not to spiral into memories of being that close to him again, “you have tattoos on your back. I wanted to see them better.”

“Oh, yeah, I— I mean, it’s just… Sure,” Jimin says again as he turns around. He shrugs off the straps of his outfit—a tank top and shorts sewed into one piece like a short pair of overalls, cinched around his middle with a cloth belt. He lets the top part slide down his back and bunch at his waist, shivering when Jungkook’s cool hands trail across his skin. He traces the moons that paint Jimin’s spine in black ink, then wraps his arms around Jimin and pulls him close.

“Pretty,” he murmurs, lips at Jimin’s ear, teeth nibbling his lobe. Sharp like knives, and yet he’s so gentle that it merely tickles Jimin. “Just like you.”

Jimin bites his lip to keep himself from smiling too much, head falling forward to hide his face as Jungkook kisses his neck. “That’s the first thing you ever said to me, you know?” he asks as Jungkook’s fingers lace with his, pinning Jimin’s hands to his own stomach. “You called me a pretty human.”

Jungkook nods, his nose brushing up and down the back of Jimin’s neck. A little chuckle rumbles from his throat, tickling Jimin as he kisses his way along the tattoos. “Because you are,” he whispers before his tongue slides out to trace one of the crescent moons.

A strange, tingling sensation pricks across Jimin’s skin everywhere Jungkook’s tongue touches, the same feeling he had when Jungkook had it wrapped around his cock. Jimin has studied enough about sirens now to understand that this is venom, meant to be used to subdue humans, but instead used to add to Jimin’s pleasure.

One of the many things that makes Jungkook so special. There’s a kindness, a gentleness to his heart that Jimin has never felt before. More human than most humans, in his experience.

A gasp slips from Jimin as he’s suddenly spun around, his shirt still down and leaving him bare. Jungkook darts down and winds his arms around Jimin again, just beneath the curve of his ass, and lifts him into the air. He looks so delighted to have Jimin here with him, spinning him around before he lets Jimin plop back to the ground, bare feet sinking into the mud.

It knocks Jimin’s breath from him as he lands, his hands sliding down Jungkook’s chest. His eyes follow them down, then back up as he loops them around Jungkook’s neck. He pushes onto his toes, erasing the distance between them, feeling the smoothness of Jungkook’s skin against his own before their lips meet again.

He doesn’t want this to end. He doesn’t want Jungkook to go. And he hates himself for feeling that way, because Jungkook has to be free. There is no other option.

Jungkook stops suddenly, eyes narrowed at Jimin as he cups his face. His fingers brush lightly over Jimin’s cheeks, thumbs along his cheekbones.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks. “You seem troubled.”

“I’m okay,” Jimin says with a tiny, sleepy nod. “Just tired. I was up all night to read about spells and things that might help with this curse.”

“You do not need to exhaust yourself for me,” Jungkook says, and then he pulls Jimin close to kiss his forehead. Concern etches itself across his face, a worried wrinkle forming on his brow. “Please tell me you will go home and rest. If I had known, I would not have called you here—”

“No, no, no, it’s okay,” Jimin says as he curls his fingers around Jungkook’s wrists, holding his hands in place. He turns his head to kiss Jungkook’s palm. “I wanted to see you anyway. I had food and stuff I wanted to bring you. I’ll sleep more tonight, I promise. My friend is here to help with my studies for now, though. He’s a lot more powerful than me.”

Jungkook scrunches his nose up with a little laugh, then shakes his head. “No one is more powerful than you.”

“There are so many witches more powerful than me—”

“No.” Jungkook laughs again as he leans in, pecking Jimin on the lips over and over to silence him. “You are the one who promised to free me. Therefore, the most powerful witch to me.”

Jimin’s breath rushes from his lungs as Jungkook pulls him into a tight embrace, tucking Jimin’s head beneath his chin. His hands run along Jimin’s bare back, catching the straps of his shirt and slowly working them back up. Jimin wiggles back into his shirt with Jungkook’s help, staying as close to him as possible. He doesn’t want to move away, doesn’t want to leave Jungkook here and return to the hut.

Doesn’t want Jungkook to leave him.

He tried so hard not to feel this way, and yet he’s never fallen so fast before.

“You should get back to your friend,” Jungkook murmurs into a kiss on Jimin’s temple. “But,” he stops Jimin before he can step away, “can you meet me at the pond tonight? The other one, in front of the hut.”

“Yes,” Jimin says, once again lost in Jungkook’s eyes, enamored with his smile, “of course. I— Why? Is there something you need?”

“No. I want to watch the fireflies with you.” Jungkook’s answer comes so swiftly that it catches Jimin by surprise, a tiny laugh bubbling up in his throat. “I just want to spend time with you. Unless you will be too busy with your friend, studying still.”

Jimin shakes his head, hands inching up Jungkook’s chest, lacing together behind his neck. “No, I can make time for you,” he says, whispering the words right into Jungkook’s mouth. He can’t help himself. All he wants is to feel Jungkook on him constantly now. “I want to. I’ll see you there tonight.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says. He’s buzzing with excitement. Jimin can feel it, and it makes him want to give Jungkook something to be excited about every day. “As soon as the sun has set.”

“Okay,” Jimin repeats as he slips away, arm outstretched to hold Jungkook’s hand as long as he can. When it finally falls away, he nods toward the basket on the ground and watches Jungkook step back into the water. “Don’t forget your food.”

Jungkook scrunches his face up again and nods, sinking back into the water. “Do not forget to rest. Oh, wait!” He turns for the boat again, reaching inside with one hand as he beckons Jimin back to his side with the other. “For you.”

He takes Jimin’s hand and turns it palm up, then deposits something there. When he lets go, Jimin finds a handful of green scales, and he nearly sobs at the sight.

“Jungkook, you didn’t—”

“It’s okay,” Jungkook says as he closes Jimin’s hand around them. Jimin looks up at him with blurry eyes, tears clinging to his lashes. “Sometimes they shed naturally. The other witch was never patient enough to wait for that, though. You were. Take them. That should make you many, many potions so we can speak. And then maybe you can teach me to speak your language.”

Jimin swallows down his tears, eyes wide. He tries not to feel too much hope, but it ignites a little spark in his mind that maybe Jungkook doesn’t plan to leave him as soon as he’s free. Maybe he’ll stay here after all.

“Okay,” Jimin whispers, unable to make himself speak any louder. His hand slips away from Jungkook’s as he steps back, and he watches as Jungkook sinks back into the water, shifting as he goes. The spines along his ears reappear, then the webs between his fingers as he treads water.

He winks once, then turns and dives into the murky pond, his tail splashing, glistening green as he goes. And then Jimin is alone, left with a handful of scales and a hopeful heart.

 

˗ˏˋ☾´ˎ˗

 

As promised, Jimin meets Jungkook once the sun has set. The fireflies are already out in full force, peacefully drifting by Jimin as he makes his way to the pond in front of the hut. Jungkook is already there, swaying in the water, elbow in the grass and chin propped on his hand. His tail seems to quiver with excitement as Jimin gets closer.

“I brought snacks,” Jimin says as he sets his basket down. He tugs a little blanket out of it and lays it out on the ground, beckoning Jungkook over. “Come on out. You should be able to walk this far on land, right?”

“I’ll get your blanket wet, though,” Jungkook says, a dreamy smile on his face as he stares up at Jimin. Still, he pulls himself out of the water anyway, a pair of human legs dripping with water as he shakes out his hair. He runs his hands over it, squeezing out the extra water before tucking it behind his ears.

Jimin cackles when Jungkook glances down at his own naked body, then arches a brow at Jimin. But Jimin simply waves a hand at him, the air around him whooshing and whipping itself up before it rushes around Jungkook, drying him off and blowing through his hair.

“I should have brought you some clothes,” Jimin says as he plops down on the blanket, patting the space beside him until Jungkook drops down next to him, right at the edge of the water. It’s the farthest he can go, but it’s enough.

“I would not wear them anyway,” Jungkook says with a wrinkle of his nose. “Clothes seem uncomfortable and miserable. And itchy. And scratchy.”

Jimin yelps as he’s suddenly pulled backwards onto the blanket, flattened out to lie beside Jungkook before he can even reach for his snacks. Jungkook shifts around on the blanket until he’s cozy, then pulls Jimin right on top of him, cradling Jimin’s head to his chest like he’s a baby. It pulls a laugh from Jimin, the ridiculousness of the way Jungkook manhandles him and drags him around where he wants him, and yet it’s strangely comforting to be held like this.

“They are,” Jimin says as he squirms a bit to properly adjust their position. He tucks his head beneath Jungkook’s chin, hand resting on the siren’s chest to feel his heartbeat. Jungkook’s arms wind around him, his nose nuzzling into Jimin’s hair as they watch the fireflies float above them.

“Maybe you should take your clothes off, then,” Jungkook says with a giggle that Jimin feels through his entire body. His fingers dance beneath Jimin’s shirt before he squeezes him closer, pressing kisses atop his head.

The playfulness seems to die down quickly, though, Jungkook’s laughter fading away as he holds Jimin tighter and tighter. He takes a deep breath, and Jimin closes his eyes against the glow of fireflies and the cool light of the moon. Jungkook’s heart beats steadily against his hand while Jimin’s careens wildly out of control.

He feels far too much for this beautiful creature in his arms right now. Far too much to release him back to the sea when the time comes. Jimin doesn’t know how he’ll actually follow through with this spell if he can’t put his heart into it.

“Why do you have those moon tattoos?” Jungkook asks as his hand drifts down Jimin’s back, tracing the tattoos through his shirt.

“A lot of my magic relies on the moon,” Jimin explains. He feels a bit sleepy in Jungkook’s arms. Something about his touch is so warm, so soothing, that Jimin feels like he could drift right off. “Different phases of the moon are better for different types of spells. The full moon is the most powerful. I can draw on its power when I need a little extra boost for a spell. Otherwise I draw my power from within or from nature.”

Jungkook slips his hand fully beneath Jimin’s shirt again, palm flat against the small of Jimin’s back. “The moon was full when I first saw you. Not the night I scared you, I mean.”

“It—” Jimin stops before he can agree. He lifts himself up to look at Jungkook, brows furrowed. “Wait, the night you scared me wasn’t the first time you saw me? And if not, then… when did you see me? I hadn’t been here long enough before that for another full moon.”

Jungkook’s mouth splits into a huge grin, sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight. “You remember when I first spoke to you, right? I said that you came back.”

Jimin hums, nodding as he leans into Jungkook’s embrace. He nuzzles into the side of Jungkook’s neck again, eyes closed, one leg thrown across the siren’s body now. He barely even watches the fireflies anymore, simply basks in being with Jungkook like this.

“I meant from before. When you first came to the swamp.”

Jimin pushes himself up again, hand pressed to Jungkook’s chest as he stares down at him. With that same satisfied smile, Jungkook reaches up and brushes Jimin’s hair back from his face.

“When I first—?” Jimin stops himself, blinking in confusion back at Jungkook. “I first came here months ago,” he says, and Jungkook merely nods. “I was looking for a place to go if I decided to leave the city. I came alone and—”

“You went into the hut and then sat on the steps for a long, long time,” Jungkook finishes for him. “I was here. I saw you. And then you left. That’s when I started singing again. I hoped I would call you back to me. I kept my song to myself for years before that.”

Jimin breathes out a laugh of disbelief, his eyes drifting along Jungkook’s body as he traces it, lost in thought. That explains why villagers like Hoseok started growing wary of this place. Why they kept coming here and then getting scared. Jungkook was accidentally luring them, trying to bring Jimin back to him.

Maybe he did. As unlikely as it is, maybe something about his song still called to Jimin even when he was too far away to hear it. Maybe Jungkook is the reason he couldn’t stop thinking about this place and was compelled to come back.

“I wanted to see you again so badly,” Jungkook says, almost a whisper as he pulls Jimin close, his hand on Jimin’s nape. “I waited so long, and I thought you would never come back. When you did, when I saw you again, I was so happy. I was too excited when I got close to you and thought you would find it playful if I pretended to pull you into the water. I did not think about the fact that you had no idea what I was. Of course it scared you.”

A single laugh escapes Jimin, his breath hitting Jungkook’s lips as he’s pulled into a near kiss. “Well, yes, as far as I knew, you were just some feral beast that wanted to eat me.”

“I am,” Jungkook says with a rumbling laugh into Jimin’s mouth, mischievous and playful as he pulls Jimin in again.

Jimin hums, his laughter cutting off as Jungkook tugs him into a kiss. He catches himself with both hands on Jungkook’s chest, his leg sliding farther across Jungkook to straddle him now. Even after all of the intimacy they’ve shared, Jimin is still amazed by the power in Jungkook’s body. The tiniest of movements feel like a tidal wave, muscles rippling like an angry storm across the sea’s surface. It makes Jimin shiver as Jungkook shifts around beneath him, his hands under Jimin’s shirt, fingers pressing in on either side of his spine.

“This— This isn’t exactly watching fireflies,” Jimin gasps between kisses, unable to pull away before Jungkook weaves his hand through Jimin’s hair and pulls him down again. It’s so easy to lose his breath when Jungkook kisses him, his limbs tingling and fingers twitching for more as they travel down Jungkook’s torso. It would be so easy to crawl back down and take Jungkook into his mouth again.

But that’s not what they’re here for.

Jimin pushes himself upright so he’s sitting on Jungkook’s hips, hands on his chest to keep the siren down. It would take almost nothing for Jungkook to push Jimin off and pin him down instead, but he just wraps his fingers around Jimin’s delicate wrists and holds on, smiling up at him.

“Watching fireflies was just an excuse to watch you instead,” Jungkook says, his grin growing wider, a little devilish as Jimin catches his breath. Jungkook lets go and sits up, hands splayed on the ground behind him to hold himself up. “You want to say something, though, don’t you?”

“Ask you something, actually,” Jimin says as he settles into Jungkook’s lap, looping his arms around Jungkook’s neck. As soon as he gets comfortable, Jungkook wiggles around a bit to hold Jimin’s waist too, hands locked together at his back. He gives Jimin a little nod to let him know to go on. “What was your life like in the sea? There must have been something to drive you to come here and ask that witch for help. What was it?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen, then soften, his smile more subtle now as he draws little patterns on Jimin’s back. “It was just me being young and reckless. I was set to have many, many duties placed upon me by my people. I did not want those duties. I came here to ask for a way to be free of responsibility, and she gave that to me by keeping me from the very people who were going to place me in an important position in our society.”

“That’s—” Jimin can’t think of a strong enough word to describe that. Cruel, disgusting, vile, terrible, awful. None of it quite measures up to what he actually feels toward that witch. He’s never been more glad to know someone like her is long dead and gone forever.

“In a way, she did give me what I wanted,” Jungkook says, the smile on his face weak, despite how hard he tries not to look hurt by the memories. Jimin can see the pain behind his eyes, the strain in his throat as he swallows down tears. “I asked to be free from what they expected of me. I was free in a way, once I was trapped here. I suppose I cannot be too angry.”

“You should be angry.” Jimin sucks in a sharp breath, an ache in his throat that makes him feel sick for Jungkook. “She stole your whole life from you when all you wanted was freedom. That’s— You— Fuck.”

A quiet “oh!” leaves Jungkook as Jimin slumps into his arms, foreheads pressed together. Jungkook lets out a tiny laugh as he hugs Jimin tighter, tilting his head to kiss his cheek.

“It’s okay,” Jungkook whispers against his ear. “You are here now. I will have my freedom because of you.” His arms wind around Jimin like vines, somehow seeming to hold every part of him all at once, fingers twisting into the back of Jimin’s shirt. “I am glad to have met such a kind witch.”

Jimin’s heart breaks like a wave against sharp rocks, Jungkook’s heart beating against his, a steady rhythm that soothes Jimin more and more the longer he listens to it. To know that Jungkook has experienced so much pain, so much cruelty, and that what little Jimin has done for him seems like such kindness to him. Jimin doesn’t feel like he’s done much yet. He hasn’t even cast his spell.

He doesn’t even know if he can.

“What were your duties?” Jimin asks when he finally leans back to look at Jungkook again. He runs his fingers through Jungkook’s hair, letting it cascade down his neck with every stroke. His fingers catch on a few knots here and there, but he carefully works his way through them, watching the way Jungkook’s eyes fall shut, almost like he’s drunk off the affection.

“Guiding lost souls,” Jungkook murmurs, seemingly unaware of his own answer until Jimin stops touching him. He lets his hands come to rest on Jungkook’s shoulders as the siren opens his eyes again, darker than the night sky. “People believe that sirens are only here to harm humans and drag them down into the sea. That is not all we do. And, truthfully, what no one knows is that our song only works on those with ill intent in their hearts. If you are truly good inside, you can hear our song and feel drawn to it, but you still have control over yourself.”

Jimin stammers a bit, searching Jungkook’s face before he dares to ask. He’s not sure he wants to hear what Jungkook has to say. “But I… was pulled to you by your song.”

“But you were always able to walk away,” Jungkook says. “My song has no power over you except the power you want it to have. You are good, Jimin. Better than good.”

Before Jimin can say another word, Jungkook kisses him, hands kneading at Jimin’s back over and over. He pulls Jimin closer with every little peck, nipping at Jimin’s lower lip before he pulls back with a smile.

“So, you wanted to know about my duties?” he asks, and Jimin nods eagerly, sinking deeper into Jungkook’s lap. Jungkook takes a moment to watch fireflies float by, sharp teeth working over his lower lip as he thinks about how to answer properly. “Some sirens have a song that is powerful enough to guide souls of the dead. Those who are lost at sea, who drown, who are lost in shipwrecks… many of them have no way to move on. There is nothing to guide them. They cannot find their loved ones for any closure or peace. A siren can guide them to the other world with our song. But only some of us.”

“And you? You’re able to do that?” Jimin asks, earning a small nod from Jungkook. “But you didn’t want it?”

This time, Jungkook shakes his head. “It’s a very difficult duty to take on. And there are usually very few sirens within a group who can do it, so I was expected to do it even though I did not want to. I hated it, though. In order to help souls pass on, you have to feel their despair when they realize they have passed from this world. The worst part was feeling their regrets and all the things they wish they had done before it was too late. I did not want to feel those things every day. I just wanted to be happy.”

There is nothing Jimin can say that he feels would make this hurt any less. Nothing he can do to take Jungkook’s pain away. He can only imagine what that must have felt like for Jungkook, day in and day out, feeling the pain and suffering of every lost soul he crossed. Jimin has spoken to trapped spirits before. He knows the constant ache that comes with it.

But to be made responsible for them and help them move past it while Jungkook is forced to feel it all, Jimin can’t imagine that.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin says. He doesn’t know what else to say, how to help. “I’m sorry they expected that of you.”

“Sometimes I wonder if it was cowardly of me to run from that duty,” Jungkook says, his eyes so round, so innocent, that it makes Jimin want to cry, thinking about someone like him being subject to so much torment for so long. “And maybe this place is my punishment.”

“No.” It’s the first sure thing that has left Jimin’s mouth since hearing all of this. “If I know anything, it’s that you, of all people, don’t deserve any sort of punishment. You just wanted a life for yourself. You wanted to be your own person, not to be forced into some kind of duty you never asked for. No matter how noble of a cause it may be, no one should ever have to take that all on by themselves. I— I would run away from something like that too.”

Jungkook breathes in the tiniest little breath, his smile slowly returning, and then he pulls Jimin into an embrace, his head tucked beneath Jimin’s chin. He presses his nose to Jimin’s throat, peppers little kisses down it until he reaches his collarbone, and then rests his head on Jimin’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Jimin,” he murmurs. He locks his hands together behind Jimin, holding him in place, holding him like he might never let him go.

Maybe he won’t. Maybe he will stay even if he’s free. Jimin can hope.

He prays to the gods that Jungkook stays.

“Thank you for showing me there is still kindness in this world,” Jungkook whispers as he tilts his head up to look at Jimin again. The glow of fireflies passing them by lights Jungkook up and sets off sparks through his eyes, twinkling brighter than the stars overhead.

Jimin expected beauty when he came to this place. He never expected this kind of beauty.

He certainly never expected to feel anything akin to love, but he fears now that that’s what this stutter in his heart is.

“Thank you,” Jimin says as he cups Jungkook’s face, thumbs brushing along his cheekbones. He tips Jungkook’s head back, leaning in to let their lips dance close but not quite touch yet. “For not eating me that first night I came to your pond.”

Jungkook’s laughter rumbles through Jimin, tickling as their lips finally touch. It makes Jimin shiver before he sinks completely into Jungkook’s arms and lets himself get lost in his touch. He wants to enjoy it while he can in case his prayers aren’t heard.

Soon, he has to give everything to his magic to free Jungkook. Soon, he has to let Jungkook go if that’s what Jungkook wishes for.

For now, he will enjoy what Jungkook gives him in return.

 

˗ˏˋ☾´ˎ˗

 

It’s hard to focus with Jungkook between his legs.

Jimin has to swat at the siren as he sits at the edge of their pond, grimoire in one hand and balanced precariously over the water. He splashes a bit of water toward Jungkook with his feet as Jungkook darts away, cackling.

“You’re going to make me drop this book, and then I’ll never be able to cast your damn spell!” Jimin chastises, though he can’t stop himself from smiling the whole time.

“I will just ask your witch friend to cast it instead,” Jungkook says as he makes his way back over to Jimin, once again walking his fingers up bare thighs and trying to bury his head between Jimin’s legs. He laughs as Jimin squeaks and tosses the grimoire aside, fearing for its fragile pages if it were to hit the water. Jungkook grips Jimin’s legs and lifts himself up until he’s nose to nose with Jimin. “He could do it, right?”

Jimin shakes his head, though he wishes he hadn’t answered. If Jungkook asks more, how does Jimin explain that this spell has to be cast by someone who feels enough for the cursed person? The caster has to love Jungkook in some way, whether it’s romantic or platonic love, it has to be something.

The only person here who can properly cast it is Jimin.

But he also has to want it to work.

He does. He does want it to work. He wants Jungkook to be free, but he doesn’t want to lose him. And he can’t say that out loud. Jungkook is too good, too kind, and he would choose to stay just for Jimin. That’s just who he is. Jimin can’t place that burden on him.

“I want to be the one to cast it, though,” Jimin finally says as he catches Jungkook’s chin with one hand, tilting his head back to stare up at Jimin. “I promised I would, so I’ll do it. Whatever it takes.”

Jungkook beams at him, smiling so widely that the corners of his eyes wrinkle up, dimples poking his cheeks. He starts to lift himself toward Jimin again before his eyes dart past him, back toward the hut. “Oh,” he says as he slips back into the water. “I guess we’re starting, then?”

Jimin twists around to look back at the hut, letting go of Jungkook. He rubs his hands against his own thighs, trying to ignore the disapproving look from Seokjin as he approaches. Taehyung trails along behind him, clinging to Yoongi, who looks ready to fall asleep standing up.

“Ready?” Seokjin asks as he waves his hand in front of himself, then snaps his fingers. All around Jimin, candles spring up on floating wooden platforms. In his other hand, he holds two pieces of chalk, handing one over to Taehyung before he holds the other out to Jimin. “We’ll be here if you need any help, but the spell has to come from you, primarily.”

Jimin nods, rising on shaky legs as he takes the chalk. He holds his hand out toward his grimoire and watches as the book begins to float between himself and Taehyung. With a glance at his familiar and a nod shared between them, they set to work on drawing the necessary symbols on each platform, replacing the candles once they’re done.

With sweaty palms, Jimin sets his piece of chalk in the spine of his grimoire and takes the book in his hands, his throat tight with anxiety. He’s never performed a spell like this before, never had to break a curse. It’s one of the most difficult things a witch can do, especially when the curse was placed upon Jungkook by a witch who, objectively, was more powerful than Jimin currently is.

Perhaps more powerful than he will ever be.

Taehyung squeezes Jimin’s shoulder, a little hint of encouragement before he steps out of the circle and makes his way around it to light the candles. As he does, Jimin turns to face Jungkook, beckoning him into the circle. The anxiety he feels must be obvious across his face, because Jungkook gives him such a comforting smile as he pulls himself halfway onto land, right between two of the floating platforms.

“Jimin?” He cocks his head as he waits for Jimin to look him in the eye, and then his smile widens. “You can do this. I know you can. You are the most powerful witch to me, after all.”

Through it all, somehow Jimin laughs. It aches and his throat tries to close up around the sound, but he laughs and gives Jungkook a tiny nod. He glances around at Taehyung, Seokjin, and Yoongi, then looks down at his grimoire where he has carefully written the incantation Yoongi had given him.

He can do this.

He has to do this. For Jungkook.

His eyes dart over his book to smile at Jungkook one last time, the siren smiling back, before he begins to read the incantation out loud. Wind rushes around him, tickling against his bare legs, the candle flames flickering violently. On each platform sits an offering—moon water to represent Jimin’s place at the head of the spell, a pearl from the nearby sea that Seokjin had brought at his request, the tongue of an animal to represent Jungkook’s siren song, a small stretch of rope from where Jungkook used to be restrained, and then one of Jungkook’s scales.

Jimin closes his eyes as he repeats the incantation for a second time, then a third, then again and again. Once for each offering. He focuses his mind on Jungkook, and Jungkook only. On his freedom. On the image in his mind’s eye of Jungkook swimming through the open sea and leaping from the water. Untethered and untamed.

Where he belongs. Exactly as he is meant to be.

Jimin’s eyes ease open to stare down at Jungkook, lips parted as though ready to chant again in case it didn’t work. No one moves. Jungkook glances around at them all before he plants his hands on the ground and lifts himself from the water. His tail splits in two, rivulets of water streaming down his human legs as he takes a step toward Jimin. Then another. A smile spreads across his face before he rushes forward suddenly, Jimin stepping out of his way to let him test how far he can go.

And then he seems to hit a wall. It stops him in his tracks, his hands pressed against the air, feeling something that none of them can see. Slowly, he turns back around to face Jimin, eyes wide, heartbreak etched on his face.

Nothing can compare to the pain Jimin feels, though.

He failed him. It didn’t work.

“I’m— I’m sorry. I don’t know— I’m not—” Jimin looks to Seokjin, head shaking back and forth. Seokjin must be able to see the plea in his eyes.

But Seokjin only sighs and hangs his head, then looks up to the moon. “You have to want it, Jimin,” he says before his gaze slowly comes back around to where Jimin and Jungkook stand face to face. “More than you want him.”

Around him, everyone seems to shift and move and look away, but Jimin stares right back at Jungkook, who tilts his head curiously. He can’t understand the others. Only Jimin. He has no idea what they’re talking about, and Jimin isn’t sure he wants him to know.

Jimin could lie about what Seokjin said. He doesn’t have to tell Jungkook. But he may never be able to cast this spell if he doesn’t.

“Come on,” Yoongi grumbles, tugging on Taehyung’s arm as he heads back toward the hut. Seokjin hesitates before following after, and Jungkook stares at them all, wide-eyed and confused.

“What did he say?” Jungkook asks. His eyes follow the others for a moment longer before fixing his gaze on Jimin. “Why isn’t it working?”

Jimin wishes he could leap into the swamp and let it swallow him up. He wants to sink into the mud and disappear. Suffocating beneath these muddy waters would be more pleasant than admitting this to Jungkook.

Not the part about how Jimin cares for him.

But how that’s stopping him from doing what he promised. How selfish he is.

He should be able to free Jungkook, but he’s too weak.

“He said I— I have to want it,” Jimin says as he snaps his grimoire shut, his head down to avoid Jungkook’s eyes. Clutching the book to his chest, Jimin swallows hard and forces himself to say it. “I have to— to want you to be free.”

Jimin can feel Jungkook staring at him, but he can’t bear to look at him and see the pain and betrayal in Jungkook’s eyes. He needs to explain, but he doesn’t know where to start. Never, in all Jimin’s life, has he ever had to tell someone his feelings like this.

And of course he would choose someone whose life would never have been compatible with his had it not been for a fucking curse.

“You do not… want that?” Jungkook asks. The hurt in his voice feels like a red-hot knife right through Jimin’s heart. It makes him flinch away from the siren, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to shake his head. “I thought you wanted me to be free.”

“I do!” Jimin gasps out so suddenly it makes him lose his breath. He sucks in as much air as he can, filling his lungs as he looks up at Jungkook and lets himself ramble. If he doesn’t speak now, he doesn’t know if he’ll get another chance. If Jungkook thinks he’s been betrayed, Jimin may never see him again anyway, and Jungkook will still be trapped. “I— I do. Please don’t think that I’m like that other witch. I promise, I want nothing more than for you to be free. But my— Fuck.”

He just needs to say it. For once, Jimin needs to take the leap. Be brave. He’s spent his whole life being careful, protecting himself. What’s the worst that can happen here? A little rejection?

Just say it, you stupid little witch.

“My fear of losing you in the process is… making it difficult,” Jimin says, his throat closing up until his words sound like little more than a wheeze. “It’s weakening my spell.”

Jungkook’s sharp tongue runs along his lips, brows furrowed in question. He still keeps a distance from Jimin, hands clenched at his sides like he’s resisting reaching out the way he normally would. Normally, he would have had Jimin is his arms ages ago, but he doesn’t know if he can trust Jimin now,

“Losing me?” Jungkook asks.

Jimin can’t take it. He can’t take hearing Jungkook’s voice sound so broken and uncertain anymore. He holds his grimoire out with one hand and snaps his fingers with the other, sending the book floating down to rest atop a rock. Wrapping his arms around himself, Jimin looks Jungkook right in the eye.

He won’t let himself look away.

“I’m afraid, Jungkook. I’m afraid I’ll never see you again once you leave this place. I’m afraid you’ll never come back to me.”

Jungkook’s eyes have never looked bigger. He stares at Jimin, unmoving, not even blinking. Jimin can’t tell if he’s even breathing or not until his chest suddenly puffs up. And then he lunges forward.

Jimin’s heart jumps into his throat, terrified that he’s about to feel Jungkook’s teeth ripping into his throat. It takes him right back to those first nights they saw each other, when he still didn’t know what Jungkook was and how much of a gentle creature he actually is at heart. That doesn’t mean he can’t snap.

Doesn’t mean he won’t hate Jimin for failing to free him due to his own selfishness.

But Jungkook’s arms wind around Jimin and pull him close, squishing Jimin’s shocked face against his shoulder. Jungkook twists one hand into Jimin’s hair and tucks Jimin beneath his chin. It feels so nice after being so fearful. He really thought he had scared Jungkook away for good.

“You want me to… stay?” Jungkook asks, so softly that Jimin almost doesn’t hear him.

“I do,” Jimin says. He wraps his arms around Jungkook, sliding them up his back to curl inward and dig lightly into Jungkook’s shoulders. His eyes close, comforted by how tightly Jungkook holds him. “But I want you to be free. I really do.”

“I can stay. I can come back,” Jungkook says, and Jimin hates how easily that brings tears to his eyes. He squeezes Jungkook closer and sniffles, but that sound only makes Jungkook push him back to look at him. He looks heartbroken when he sees Jimin’s face, hands coming up to wipe away the tears from Jimin’s cheeks. “Do you really believe I would not come back to you? I want to be with you.”

Jimin has never heard those words in his life before. He’s spent so much of it alone, even as a child. He’s never had anyone but Taehyung, and even that is contractual. He never fit in anywhere, never had friends in the city, barely even clicked with the rest of the coven. Jimin has always been a loner, and not by choice.

But here is Jungkook, the kindest soul he’s ever met, saying he wants to stay with him.

“The other thing,” Jimin says, practically croaking out the words “is that this spell also requires someone to… love you. In order to set you free, I have to…”

Jungkook cocks his head, and somehow it’s even more adorable than usual. “Love me? Do you not?”

“I… don’t know. I’ve only known you a few weeks. I—” Jimin bites his lip. He doesn’t know what the truth is. He’s never been in love, never been anywhere close to it. How can he say with any certainty that he loves Jungkook enough to make this spell work? If he says it and the spell fails again, then they’ll both know he’s a liar. “I—”

“I love you.” Jungkook tugs him closer, hands sliding down to lace together at Jimin’s nape. His thumbs run along the sides of Jimin’s neck as he rests their foreheads together, eyes shut. So Jimin closes his too and lets Jungkook do what he will.

No one has ever said that to Jimin before. I love you. He wonders if Jungkook truly knows what love is either. Do sirens even have a concept like that? Or is he so sure of what he feels that he doesn’t need a definition or an explanation of what it is?

“I think you could love me too,” Jungkook says, which only makes Jimin want to say it even more, even if he doesn’t know if it’s true. It hurts to think of Jungkook loving him and believing that Jimin might not feel the same. “Let me show you.”

“Jungkook—” Jimin gasps out as Jungkook’s tongue runs along his lips, leaving behind little tingles from his venom.

“Let me show you, please.”

Hands suddenly grip the back of Jimin’s legs, lifting him up. With a yelp, Jimin throws his arms around Jungkook’s neck, frantically trying to keep himself from falling. His voice is muffled by Jungkook’s lips on his own, warm and tasting of saltwater, the slight bitterness of his venom making Jimin feel drunk in an instant.

Jimin feels himself being lowered to the ground, Jungkook’s body still pressed close, fitted between Jimin’s legs, bare skin slick beneath Jimin’s fingers as they drag along the siren’s back. He’s breathless already, his head in the clouds, his body hot from the venom on his tongue. His throat aches as he gasps in sharp breaths. Jungkook breaks away to kiss at the pulse in Jimin’s neck as his hands work Jimin’s shirt up.

They’re right in the middle of the spell circle, right out in the open where anyone could see them. Jimin’s face reddens at the thought, that heat in his body growing as Jungkook strips him of his shirt and kisses his way down Jimin’s stomach.

He looks so serene when Jimin manages to gather his thoughts enough to watch him. Jungkook’s lashes flutter lightly as his tongue slides out from between his lips, licking a long line along Jimin’s stomach before he crawls down further. His fingers curl into the top of Jimin’s pants, eyes shooting open to stare up at him, and Jimin has to slap a hand over his mouth to keep from moaning at the sight.

He almost wants to tell Jungkook to stop, to tell him he loves him and he doesn’t have to do this. How many times have they touched each other just like this—and in this same spot, no less—and yet this time overwhelms Jimin so much more than any other. Maybe it’s the intensity in Jungkook’s eyes, maybe it’s the way he doesn’t slow down and strips Jimin just as bare as he is in seconds.

Jungkook’s hands slide beneath Jimin’s bare legs, spreading them wide and bringing them up to rest on his shoulders, kissing along the inside of one. He peers at Jimin from the corner of his eye, a slight grin on his lips as he sucks a mark on the inside of Jimin’s thigh. And then he bites.

Jimin cries out, shoulders braced on the ground as he arches up, halfway lifted into the air by Jungkook. He’s trembling and they’ve barely started, his cock aching, curled up against his stomach and covering his own skin in precum.

The last thing he expects is for Jungkook to lower him flat on the ground and then dive down to wrap his tongue around Jimin’s cock the way he did the first time. Jimin’s hands curl into Jungkook’s wet hair, the locks twisting around his fingers like vines.

“Jung— Jungkook,” Jimin gasps out, head snapping back against the ground as he feels Jungkook working his tongue up and down his cock. He can feel dirt and mud and grass beneath him, tickling against his back, the mud warm from the heat of his skin.

But Jimin can’t care about how messy they might get like this. He feels like he’s losing his mind, Jungkook’s hands all over his body. His fingers dig into Jimin’s thighs, head buried between them, tongue slipping down to the sensitive little spot right next to his hole.

“W-wait! Jungkook, wait,” Jimin rasps, propping himself up on one elbow to look down as the siren’s head pops up, eyes wide again. His fingers trace Jimin’s rim, making it flutter and clench, begging for something to fill him. It’s the only thing they haven’t done, but Jimin won’t even be able to take his fingers without some kind of oil, let alone his cock. “I can’t— We don’t— We need something if you— if you’re going to fuck me.”

Jungkook stares at him a moment longer, and then he grins. His hands grab the backs of Jimin’s thighs again, pushing Jimin’s knees up to his chest until he’s nearly folded in half. He feels so exposed like this, completely bare and his ass in the air, Jungkook’s eyes dragging down his body before he sticks his tongue out. His eyes snap back up to lock with Jimin’s.

Venom begins to pool where his tongue curls right at the tip, and then he lets it slide from his tongue and onto that spot he had licked at before. Jimin shivers as it drips down between his cheeks, warm as it covers his hole. He throws his arm across his face to hide how red he is, peeking over it to take in the sight of Jungkook bearing over him—the lines of his abs, the v shape that draws Jimin’s eyes down to where his cock hangs, hard and heavy and thick and dripping with precum, nearly as wet as the venom he covers Jimin in.

He dives down again, this time burying his face against the wetness between Jimin’s legs, tongue pushing into his hole. Jimin bites his own arm to silence himself, moans clawing through his throat. Jungkook keeps one hand on Jimin’s thigh to keep him in place, and the other trails down for his fingers to join his tongue.

Jimin feels so full already, Jungkook’s tongue squeezing inside of him to push as deep as it can go. It’s even longer than Jimin realized, reaching as far as Jungkook’s fingers do, curling and crooking inside him, pressing against his walls until Jimin cries out.

His hands clap over his mouth as he tries to look down at Jungkook. The sensation of Jungkook’s fingers sliding in and out of him feels a thousand times more intense than it should, the tingling sensation from his venom making Jimin hypersensitive. His hips twitch and buck without him meaning to, sometimes rocking downward to take Jungkook deeper.

If Jungkook keeps going like this, Jimin won’t last long, but he can’t seem to form proper words anymore. He feels drunk, the venom working through his system and making his veins burn with a pleasant heat, his mind unable to think of anything but the pressure of Jungkook’s fingers inside of him, stretching him, the tips pushing against nerves inside Jimin.

Jimin bites his arm harder, holding back a scream of pleasure as Jungkook keeps working at those nerves, massaging them. Something about this venom makes him more sensitive than usual, every brush of Jungkook’s hands against his skin a searing rush of bliss. It feels like an explosion rips through him when he comes, no need for Jungkook to even touch him to get him off.

Jimin spills across his own stomach, legs trying to squeeze together to hide the mess. His body begs to pull away from everything Jungkook does to him when he’s already so spent. Though, if Jimin is honest, there’s something exciting about feeling so overworked and possibly continuing despite it. It feels like a loss when Jungkook pulls his fingers out of him and crawls his way back up Jimin’s body.

Running his tongue along his lips, Jungkook takes Jimin’s hands and moves them away so he can see Jimin’s face. Their fingers lace together, Jungkook propped on his elbows but still pressed close to Jimin. His cock slides right alongside Jimin’s, making Jimin whimper from the oversensitivity, but then he forces himself to lift his hips again, seeking more.

“What about now?” Jungkook asks with a little smile, his usually round eyes hooded, staring at Jimin like he’s prey. Like he might sink his teeth back into him at any second. “Do you love me yet?”

Yes. Always have.

Jimin squeezes Jungkook’s hands, trying to catch his breath, his head still fuzzy from the venom. He’s all mixed up, his thoughts hazy and dense, legs wrapping around Jungkook and heels digging into his back to make the siren rut against him.

“I don’t know,” Jimin lies. He can’t say it yet. He doesn’t want this to be over. He’s still selfish, wanting a little more from Jungkook before he admits it.

Something in Jungkook’s eyes tells Jimin he already knows, though. Especially when his grin widens, sharp teeth on display.

Jungkook lets go of one of Jimin’s hands and grips his jaw instead. His fingers press into Jimin’s cheeks to force his mouth open, and Jimin willingly parts his lips to take whatever Jungkook gives him. The siren captures him in another venom-soaked kiss, little pinpricks across Jimin’s tongue as it pools into his throat. He chokes it down, feeling like he took a shot of whiskey as it rushes through him, heat building in his stomach.

He can feel Jungkook chuckle into the kiss, and then he lets go of Jimin’s face and leans back. Jungkook’s tongue slides out and licks across his own palm before he reaches between their bodies.

Jimin stares up at him, looking right into his eyes when he feels Jungkook’s cock catch on his rim. It makes Jimin shiver, his hands coming up to press against Jungkook’s chest, then slide over his shoulders. He digs his fingers into the siren’s back to pull him closer, lips brushing together as Jimin whispers to him.

“Do it. Take me.” Jimin swallows hard when he feels Jungkook carefully ease the first inch of his cock inside him. It takes everything not to tense up, the sheer size of him making Jimin feel like he might break. He takes in a few deep breaths, squeezing Jungkook tighter to let him know to keep going. “Show me how you love me. Make me— ah— Make me say it, Jungkook. Make me—mmph!”

Jungkook’s lips crush against his again, tongue pushing into Jimin’s mouth. His thumb rubs against that spot right above Jimin’s hole, making him twitch and writhe until Jungkook grips his hip to make him sit still. It’s so hard to wait, taking every inch of Jungkook one long second at a time, the siren being too careful for Jimin’s liking.

He doesn’t need it. He can take it. He needs it.

“Jungkook,” Jimin mumbles against his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip. The lines and ridges of his cock making Jimin shiver each time one pushes past tight muscles and deeper inside him. “Just do it. I can take it. Please, please, I— I need you. So bad, Jungkook, I need you so bad, please.”

He can’t even be embarrassed by his own begging, nails scratching along Jungkook’s back. Jungkook’s jaw drops open in a low moan, his forehead resting on Jimin’s as he rolls his hips forward, his cock pushing the rest of the way inside Jimin with surprising ease.

The effects of the venom makes Jimin relax and suck him right in, his cock filling Jimin up so much that he feels a buzzing, thrumming pleasure all the way to the tips of his fingers. He arches against Jungkook, head tipped back on the grass, a breathy, rough moan slipping from him. Teeth scrape along his neck, then sink in, pain and pleasure mixing together and sending another shock through Jimin.

He’s going to be a mess after this, marks all over, Jungkook’s sharp teeth nibbling at his shoulder before he licks at the little wounds he leaves behind. Jimin squirms beneath the siren, hips rolling to feel more of the way Jungkook fills him, cock twitching inside Jimin. It makes Jimin’s walls clench tighter around him, trying to take him deeper even though he knows that’s impossible.

“I’m okay. You can move,” Jimin murmurs against Jungkook’s ear, one hand curling into damp hair to pull Jungkook into a kiss. “Please. I need you. Feels so good.” His voice is so hoarse already, muffled when Jungkook’s tongue traces his lips as if to taste the words leaving him. “Show me. Show me how you love me.”

Jungkook growls. Growls into Jimin’s mouth, hand at his nape. He tugs Jimin up into the kiss, his other hand slipping beneath Jimin’s back to lift and force his back to arch. It feels like an electric shock through Jimin’s body, that simple movement making Jungkook’s cock push against those nerves.

Jimin cries out, arms clutching Jungkook painfully tight, legs around him. His eyes go wide when he feels Jungkook slowly slide out of him, warm and thick and wet with the venom he had used to slick himself up. Jimin swears he can feel Jungkook’s cock throbbing inside of him, constant stimulation that washes through Jimin with each pulse of it.

Nothing prepares him for the way Jungkook slams back into him, reaching depths that Jimin didn’t know was possible. He practically screams as his hips buck up for more, overstimulated and aching but begging Jungkook to keep going, his cock already hardening again. He wonders if this is how Jungkook felt when they first started fooling around—unable to get enough, immediately ready to go again.

It must be the effects of the venom making Jimin’s body like this, and he wishes he could be like this all the time. Tears pool at the corners of his eyes, moans trapped in his throat as he tries to catch his breath, losing it again every time Jungkook thrusts forward and makes Jimin’s back slide against the mud.

He doesn’t have the strength to hold on anymore, arms thrown above his head, hands twisting into wads of grass and ripping them up. Jungkook devours him, pinning him to the ground, bearing over him like an animal tearing into a feast. Jimin squeezes his eyes shut and just lets himself feel it and hear the wet sounds of Jungkook fucking him, sliding in and out in quick, harsh snaps of his hips, then slowing down without warning.

Sometimes he just fucks as deep as he can and holds Jimin there, hips rolling, cock massaging against the nerves inside Jimin until he’s sobbing, spilling over his stomach again. And then he dives down, tongue licking up Jimin’s cheek to wipe away his tears, more venom dripping between their lips until Jimin is ready again.

And then he just keeps going, wrecking Jimin’s body and yet holding him with such tender hands, gentle as he kisses every mark he’s left on Jimin. Jimin’s eyes slowly open to stare up at the dark sky, stars twinkling overhead, the moon blurry and doubled.

His toes curl when he feels Jungkook shudder against him, warmth flooding Jimin’s body when Jungkook comes inside of him. Jungkook bows over him, head resting on Jimin’s shoulder, hands gripping his hips, right over the bruises he’s already left there.

Even now, Jimin doesn’t want this to end. He doesn’t want to be empty ever again, doesn’t want Jungkook to move too far away from him. He wants him to stay.

Jungkook slowly pulls out of him, lifting Jimin’s legs to bend him in half again, looking between them to watch as cum slides out of Jimin and drips onto the mud below. Jimin feels filthy and sweaty from the humid air, his head spinning, mud coating his back and arms, blades of grass stuck between his fingers.

His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, blinking hard to make his eyes focus so he can look at Jungkook. Even now, the siren seems hungry for Jimin, enamored with him as he lets Jimin’s legs fall open again to allow Jungkook to fit between them.

“Tell me how you’re feeling,” Jungkook murmurs, kissing Jimin’s ear, teeth nipping at it before his tongue slides out and curls along the shell. “Tell me you’re okay. Is this too much for you?”

Jimin shakes his head, shaky hands coming to rest on Jungkook’s back again. “Feels good,” he mumbles, exhausted, though his body still cries out for more, the venoms sending little sparks through him as his cock hardens between them again. They could go like this forever, he thinks.

“Tell me you love me enough now.”

Jungkook’s voice is a low rumble against Jimin’s throat, his long tongue trailing up the column of it, then back down. His nose nestles between Jimin’s collarbones, eyes peering up at him as Jimin. A smirk curls his lips, playful and devious.

But Jimin keeps his mouth shut. Just one more time. He needs it. Jimin knows what he needs to do. Just once more.

His mouth drops open when he feels Jungkook dive down again, mouth crushed against Jimin’s, hands on Jimin’s ass to spread him wide as he pushes back inside him in one swift motion. It sends a zap of pleasure right up Jimin’s spine, making him thrash against the ground from the sudden ecstasy rocketing through him. Tears spring to his eyes again, his whole body flushed red and hot, clearly overworked and begging to stop, and yet wanting this to never end.

Jimin claws at Jungkook’s back, legs around him, head snapping back against the ground as he gasps in frantic, harsh breaths. He chokes on his own moans, throat bobbing, his muscles eager to give out and go limp.

“Wait— Wait, Jungkook,” he rasps, tapping Jungkook on the back. It takes a moment for Jungkook to regain his senses and slow himself down, hips flush against Jimin’s ass as he pushes himself up to look at him. “I w-want to look at you. Please, I like seeing you.”

Jungkook looks drunk as he smiles at Jimin, one hand coming up to brush his knuckles along Jimin’s cheek. “Okay,” he says, “Gladly.”

The air rushes from Jimin’s lungs, stomach swooping when Jungkook suddenly scoops him up. He kneels in the mud, Jimin in his lap, then drops him right down on his cock. Jimin throws his head back as he cries out, hands on Jungkook’s shoulders and nails digging in, dragging across sweaty skin. Somehow, he swears Jungkook is even deeper inside him now, and it makes Jimin tremble from head to toe, a constant pressure on those nerves making him moan and sob with the continuous waves of pleasure across his body.

“You’re even prettier when you feel good like this,” Jungkook whispers against his ear, pulling another shiver from Jimin. He grips Jimin’s chin with one hand and forces him to look up again, his other hand on Jimin’s ass, fingers teasing at his hole even when he’s already too full. “Did you know that? Has anyone ever told you? It is easy to fall in love with you when you’re like this.”

Jimin doesn’t get a chance to reply before Jungkook grips him tight with both hands and lifts him, guiding Jimin’s hips to take him over and over again. Jimin’s arms wrap loosely around Jungkook’s shoulders, head hanging as he tries not to faint from the euphoria in his body, his cock dripping between them, aching for another release even though he’s already come so many times.

He twists his hand into Jungkook’s hair, lightly pulling at it to make the siren look at him. It’s difficult to make himself focus enough to meet Jungkook’s eyes, seated in his lap as they both take a pause to catch their breath. Jimin keeps steadily rolling his hips, watching the way Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut at the sensation.

Jimin won’t last much longer. His body tries to give out. They have to stop after this. So he pulls Jungkook close, foreheads resting together, his arms sliding over Jungkook’s shoulders again to drape behind his back. He can taste the bittersweetness of the venom on Jungkook’s breath.

“Promise y-you’ll always come back— back to me,” Jimin whispers, his voice shaky and weak, his mind struggling to keep up with his own thoughts, body begging for that final release. He holds back a moan when he feels Jungkook shift around, cock pressing against that spot inside him again.

“I will always come back to you, Jimin.” Jungkook peppers kisses along Jimin’s jaw, pausing at the corner of his lips. “I know you do not understand this in the way that I do, but… I see you as my mate now. I could never leave you. I love you.”

A weak smile curls across Jimin’s lips, too tired to do much more than that. He was always going to say it anyway, but hearing that only makes him more certain.

“I love you too, Jungkook.” And then he silences himself with another kiss, muffling his weak little moans as Jungkook grabs his hips again and sinks back into him. Jimin’s legs tremble, arms barely holding himself up anymore. The candle flames of the spell circle around them roar back to life and burn higher than ever.

It’s all thanks to Jungkook that Jimin doesn’t collapse entirely when he comes again, head falling back, Jungkook’s arms pulling him close so they’re chest to chest.

Jimin arches, hips bucking, cock rubbing against Jungkook’s stomach, the sound of Jungkook’s cock fucking into him wetter and louder as he spills inside Jimin again, filling him so much that it overflows, dripping down Jimin’s thighs.

Jungkook keeps a tight hold on him, arms wound around Jimin to keep him upright, his head buried in Jimin’s neck and nuzzling close as he kisses it. The world goes topsy-turvy as Jimin’s sanity slowly returns to him, his body and mind spent. The stars in the sky swirl as he stares up at them. A smile eases onto his face as he thinks about how much the sky looks like Jungkook’s eyes.

Jimin’s fingers begin to go numb, then his hands and his arms too. The last thing he hears is Jungkook murmuring his name before he feels himself falling backward, and then the night sky goes completely black.

 

˗ˏˋ☾´ˎ˗

 

Jimin wiggles his toes in wet sand, sinking a little deeper into it when a wave washes up around his ankles and shifts the ground. Taehyung, in his snake form, winds around Jimin’s neck and lifts his head, tongue darting out to smell the air. He unravels and slips away, plopping to the ground before he slithers off, back toward the tidal channels where they’ve tethered their boat.

Raising his hand up to block the sun, Jimin looks out at the sea again and waits, a warm breeze rushing past his face. It takes a moment before he sees it again—the flash of a silvery-green tail before it disappears beneath the waves. Every time Jungkook disappears for an extended period of time, Jimin gets a little anxious that something has gone wrong.

But he needs to have faith that Jungkook can take care of himself and uphold his promise. No matter how much time he spends in the sea, he’ll always come back to Jimin.

Jimin steps a little farther out, then sits down right in the water and waits. It’s deep enough here for Jungkook to stay submerged in his siren form but still be able to cuddle close. It only takes a moment before Jimin sees the water ripple, Jungkook’s tail briefly breaking the surface and splashing just to show off. The water breaks right in front of Jimin, and Jungkook pops out, arms around Jimin’s waist, lips smashed together before Jimin can say a word.

He chuckles into the kiss, cupping Jungkook’s face with his hands, the siren’s body fitting between his legs. Jungkook presses forward so much that he practically flattens Jimin in the water, and Jimin barely catches himself on his elbows to stay upright.

Jungkook beams at him, glowing under the afternoon sun, eyes sparkling. He has never looked so happy, and it’s all thanks to his long-deserved freedom.

“Look what I found,” Jungkook says as he lifts his hand from the water, a perfect pearl pinched between his fingers. “If I find another, you can make earrings from them. They would look pretty on you.”

He constantly brings Jimin gifts like this now, whether it be from the sea or the swamp, and he even hunts for ingredients that Jimin can’t reach himself. Jungkook balances his days between adventuring in the sea, exploring beaches, and returning to the swamp to spend time with Jimin, and every time he returns, it’s with a pouch full of gifts.

Most of his time is spent with Jimin, though, regardless of where they are. If he goes to the beach, Jimin goes with him. If Jimin is in the swamp, Jungkook usually hangs around there. They’re practically inseparable. Even when they are apart, neither of them can bear it for long.

“You’re too sweet to me,” Jimin says, scrunching up his face as Jungkook leans in for another kiss. Jimin pecks him on the lips before he begins brushing the siren’s hair back with his hands. “Are you almost ready to go home?”

Jungkook nods, turning around so his back is to Jimin, head resting on Jimin’s chest. He keeps observing the pearl, turning it around and around. Once again, Jimin notices how much Jungkook’s skin reminds him of pearls, shifting and glinting in the light.

“Are you still tired?” Jungkook asks as he tips his head back to look at Jimin.

“A bit.” Jimin wraps his arms around Jungkook’s middle and rests his forehead on his shoulder. “But we can stay longer. I know you have a lot more exploring you want to do after being away from the sea for so long.”

But he is exhausted. It’s only been a week since the curse was broken, and Jimin hasn’t recovered from the strength that spell took from him. Not to mention what he put his body through. The spell itself, however, caused Jimin to fall ill and sleep for nearly three days straight. He didn’t even know the curse had lifted until he was finally able to regain consciousness, only to find Jungkook crowded on the bed beside him.

According to Taehyung, Jungkook had toiled day and night to take care of Jimin, barely eating or sleeping himself. He had nearly worried himself to the point of sickness. But when it was obvious that Jimin was beginning to stir again, he simply curled up beside Jimin and fell asleep, holding on until Jimin returned to him.

Through it all, apparently, he also harassed Taehyung with a million and one questions about Jimin, the coven, Jimin’s friends, his life before the swamp. But Taehyung has left that to Jimin to tell him.

“We should go back soon, then,” Jungkook says, though he makes no effort to move, closing his eyes and leaning into Jimin’s embrace. The waves crash gently against them, the sun warming them as the water keeps them cool, a pleasant breeze creating the perfect weather. Jimin could fall asleep on this beach easily, so long as he has Jungkook with him like this.

“Just a moment longer,” Jimin mumbles, sliding his arms over Jungkook’s shoulders to loop around his neck, his hands dangling in the water right in front of the siren’s chest. He feels a hand curl around his wrist, thumb rubbing circles over his pulse.

Jungkook’s tail splashes lightly as they take in the sounds of the sea, birds cawing overhead, the rhythmic rush of waves. Jimin can understand why Jungkook has longed to return to this place. This will always be home to him, but now that he’s free, maybe Jimin can become his home too. Maybe he already is.

After all, what he always returns to, no matter where he has gone or how long he’s away, is Jimin.

Notes:

Aaaaaaaaand! Fin! Haha, get it? Fin? Like a fish- Okay, sorry. Anyway! I'll keep this short for once and just say a quick thank you for reading this lil fic <3 I really loved writing it and had so much fun. It was all vibes and gave me a little break from having to write longer/heavier things. I'm very fond of this Jikook now. They're just so *clenches fist* soft and sweet!! And I just!!! Adore them!!! They deserve nothing but happiness and peace in their little swamp home.

I definitely wanna revisit them in the future, so maybe we'll get another fic of them :') I do have lots of ideas for them 😌 But for now, just know that they're cuddling on the beach, in the hut, in the water, everywhere!!!!!

Until next time, you can find me on:
Discord
Twitter/X
Carrd