(Y/N) POV:

There's no rush yet there's also no slowness, there's no ease and fluidity but there's no fumbles either. There's only a naturalness seeping into every movement, every touch and the slow trail of lips slowly working their way upwards; brushing gently against skin in featherlight exploration only to sink his fingers into flesh, to keep my thighs pinned open as he torturously slow sinks his teeth in and closes his lips to suck purple and red into skin, to leave a physical trail to map the journey his body takes before centring over the apex of my thighs.

There's curiosity. Slowly learning exactly what makes my breath hitch, what makes my legs try to clamp around his head, what makes my back arch as his breath ghosts along my centre, his fingers slowly trailing inwards, sinking them in and letting me adjust before they're curling and twisting, drawing in and out in slow thrusts that sink back in with harsh, rough purpose. There's exhilarated delirium in the contrasting rough and gentleness of his touch, voice a low husky groan lacing together breathlessness in his words as he explores every line and curve of my body; the twist and thrust of his fingers harsh and quick and the teasing flick of his tongue chasing to taste my arousal slow and indulgent.

There's tease in the way his eyes reflect his amusement, his pleasure in toying and drawing out pleasure with the crooked beckon of his fingers and the curling thrust of his tongue, hand pinning my thigh open, moving up to rest heavily against my stomach, keeping my hips from bucking and twisting away, his name breathlessly spilled over and over from my tongue as my hands grasp for purchase, entangling tightly with his hair and tugging, crying out when his head dips lower, chasing to coax more, the futile attempts to gain reprieve, to gain a moment's breath that wasn't shuddering and saturated with need. Hand slipping away to fist at the sheets, slipping from my grip as I tug and arch, keening at the onslaught of pleasure rapidly mounting, mercilessly engulfing my limbs in its scorching heat that has sparks searing with every fleeting touch and igniting pools of heat where he lingers, where his body leaves its imprint on mine, the wide sprawl of his arm and the pinning grip of his palm.

"Thought... you were going to be my undoing." He shudders, voice rough and raspy, just as affected, plunging deeper with its huskiness, reverberating against skin where he lets slick lips graze against the inside of my thigh and suck marks into soft, sensitive skin, hips bucking up to twist from the blissful agony of pleasure making my body fall apart, the pressure winding tighter and tighter until it snaps.

Pleasure seeping into every crevice of my body, throat bobbing for breath as my back arches off the sheets, his name tumbling past my mouth in a keening plea. Whether that's for more, for him to stop, for him I don't know—body wracked with jolts and trembling shudders, his tongue and fingers continuing to prolong the waves of pleasure before he slowly withdraws the touch.

Leaves arousal smeared across my skin, pupils dilated and skin flushed as he hovers over me, his hips rutting against the sheets for a modicum of relief, broad arms caging me in, settled on either side of my hips as he lets burning lips trail across my abdomen upwards; tongue heated as it flicks against the aching nubs hardened to points by the stimulation of his fingers rolling and tugging, teeth scraping in a way that has hot white pleasure-pain lancing through my body, arching into the touch, breathing raggedly until his lips skim across my collarbones, my throat, my jaw. Trailing upwards steadily until my lips are turning to chase his, groaning against his mouth, hands snaking around to wind around his nape, legs locking around him; still feeling the trembles wracking them as I coax him down towards me.

His weight settles on me, pins me to the sheets and grinds his hips down against me, a messy, rough thrust that has my hips jerking upwards.

His breath shudders against my skin, rough rasps of breath as his body cages mine and cradles it simultaneously, hands skimming across skin with feverish, increasingly hurried intent.

And when I tug at him to turn, to lie sprawled on the sheets instead, he easily relinquishes, spinning around and body stretching out across the bed, hands gripping my hips to tug me close, groaning when my hand skims across the sharp definition of his torso. Hand skimming lower and curling around his length, hips bucking and rising.

"Don't... don't tease anymore." He groans, hissing it between bitten lips, eyes imploring and dark and dilated with pleasure.

Already so wrecked.

And when I sink down, legs trembling as I settle my hands on his torso for purchase, to steady myself against, his hips buck up sharply, sheathing himself entirely, the rough thrust has me crying out; breath punctured out of my lungs with the sudden movement, his hands clamping my hips to keep me flush to him.

There's no laughter simmering in his gaze now; just pure desire making his pupils dilate, entangling with the fierce, fierce love radiating as he scans me, breath shuddering as we still, clutching at each other, both of us fallen head first into the sensation, into the feeling of our bodies entangled together.

"No more teasing." I murmur, voice trembling slightly, leaning forward to brush a kiss across his lips, hips rocking back in slow thrusts to meet the buck of his own, sinking deeper, sharper, punctuating the ragged breaths with the deep, rough bucks of his hips, drawing him out when my hips lift.

Slow, unrushed but rough, every thrust tugs a sound past his lips and my own, breath shaky and a slew of whimpered murmurs of his name, of him as my hands steady me, body tilted to his in a half embrace, feel his hands skim from my hips to my waist, drifting upwards to map the feel of my skin against his own.

There's unbridled hunger simmering and burning between us, hands roving with the intent to commit the feel of each other as we unravel by the other, learning exactly what makes him gasp and buck up sharper, what makes his hands cling tighter, head tilted up to mouth at skin, what makes his eyes flutter and his lips part in a shaky curse.

My body steadily tilts closer to his, desperate for the closeness of his body pressed to mine, hips rolling back in slow circles, drawing myself up before sinking down, nails pressing sharper to the tight clenched muscles of his stomach tensing under me, his fingers skimming across the curve of my breast, the sharp pinched pleasure as he works the achingly stiff nub between his fingertips, pushing himself up to mouth at the heaving swells, dragging me down with a hand sprawled over my back.

"Want...need you closer." He groans against skin, slowly rocking his hips up, the dragged, slow pleasure of his hips chasing the deep grinding circles of my hips pushing back.

And impatience slowly bubbles out, has his hands feverishly skimming skin, mouth sucking dark blooming stains of red and purple over skin before he grips my hips.

Draws himself out, away and twists us, body bracketing mine against the sheets, fingers skimming over my hipbone to my thighs. Gripping tightly as he tugs them open, settles in the splayed space between them.

"Kook... need you." I shudder out, skin burning under his touch, under his glazed eyes dilated with pleasure, fingers sinking into the soft inner flesh of my thighs, hands settling to pin them open before his hips are rolling against mine, drawing himself in deep slowly.

Groaning against my shoulder when he stills.

Breaths soft and shaky and lips mouthing at skin, head tilted to mine.

"I'm here." The words trembled against skin, fingers curling tighter into my thighs.

My hands scrabble for purchase, slipping from his shoulders to his chest, back arching as my hips push back, try to coax him to move.

Teeth sinking in lightly; hips drawing back slowly, hands keeping my thighs pinned open and splayed, his dark gaze drifting down as he watches himself sheathe him in again, a slow roll of his hips before he pushes back in again.

Whatever crackles and simmers between us burns now, shuddering with every tremor that wracks our bodies, clinging tightly to one another, lips chasing the soothing reprieve of each other's mouths slotting together. Hungering and aching and finally satiated with the way our bodies meld together, fall into a rhythm, an ease that goes far, far beyond the time we've known each other.

Something about him that reels me in and leaves me dizzyingly intoxicated and enthralled by him.

Something just as lost and dazed in the burning fever of his eyes holding mine, hands mapping my body and leaving new paths behind, exploring and chasing to learn every inch of me as my own skim across skin, lips pressing trails from his throat to his collarbones to his sternum.

Fingers curling around the ink of his arm, gripping tight as he thrusts deeper, every ragged pant, every exhale muffled against each other's skin.

"I love you." He murmurs against the crook of my neck, teeth dragging lightly across skin, tongue flicking against where his teeth sink in for a moment, lips mouthing away the sting. Words whispered to skin, sunk in with a quiet intimacy as I wind a hand around his nape, fingers entangling with his hair, hips pushing back.

Hips rocking back to meet each thrust, lips mouthing at skin.

"I love you too."

Lips curving up against the side of his jaw.

"Even if you're second place to me." Breathless laughter at the way his teeth sink in sharper in warning, even though I can feel the curve of his grin against my skin.

Feel the breathless laughter shake and peter off into a keening moan when his hands grip my thighs, leaning against me, body a pinned weight against mine. Driving in deeper and slower.

Back arching at the sharp snap of his hips, pace quicker and punishing, breath seizing and a slew of moans slipping out, hands scrabbling for purchase, skin burning with the feverish ache for him.

"You horrible tease." Voice a rough groan against my throat, lips trailing lower, and head bent over my breast, tongue and teeth toying and coaxing out a broken cry of his name, fingers digging into his arm and the other tugging sharper at his hair.

"But my horrible tease. My spoilsport." Words fond, the thrusts he punctuates them with anything but, the drag of skin against skin, the scent of him; heavy on my senses and our entwined limbs pressed close enough that our breaths are shared, that this close his hair tickles against my nape and cheek, his teeth catch at my earlobe.

"Yours." I echo.

Yours to the very end.

Unspoken words expressed in the feverish meld of our bodies pressed close, hands skimming across limbs, tugging each other close, the pleasure winding tighter and tauter until it makes every breath tremble, makes my body ache as it mounts towards the dizzying freefall.

Nails digging into skin when that tight coil snaps, when it sends me spiralling headfirst into pleasure, deep, slamming waves of it shuddering through my body, back arching off the bed and hands dragging him closer.

Feel the way his arms, taut and holding himself up above me, back bowed as he cages me in, hips rolling deep circles as he pushes my pleasure further, longer, eyes half-lidded as he looks at me, lips parted as his breath trembles.

Feel his own pleasure entangle with mine as he comes to still, head dropping forward, breathless but still pressing his lips to mine when my hand reaches out to draw him closer, soft pecks pressed to the parted seam of his mouth. Tongue curling and briefly brushing over his lips, nose nudging against his as his arms fold, carefully drawing himself over me.

Sprawling over me and sandwiching me against the sheets, bodies still entangled when minutes later he curls to his side and with him, draws me alongside him, lips skimming across my bare shoulder, to my hair.

Feel his fingers brush through my hair, drawing it to the side so he can press his lips to my nape, nose brushing against the sensitive skin.

"Hi tease." Voice warm and low and quiet.

I turn in the circle of his arms, eyes fluttering when his lips skim instead across my throat, slow and unrushed as he presses a line of kisses across skin.

"Hi my winner." I murmur, lips brushing against his hair.

Feel a smile stretch across his lips before he's tilting his face up, turned up in silent askance, my fingers brushing against his jaw and angling his mouth to mine.

Kissing him slow and indulgently. Unrushed to stop feeling the giddy smile pressed against my own, his fingers trailing up and down my side.

Leg half-drawn between mine.

Inked arm banded across my side.

"Now she says it." He says quieter, amused as he looks at me, dark, soft eyes glittering with tease and incredulity.

"I like teasing you. Especially when it gets you all hot and bothered." I laugh, pecking the tip of his nose. Watching it scrunch with an endearing fondness clutching tightly at me.

"I don't mind being teased. Not when it's clearly a way of you coping with sore defeat." He teases playfully.

I swat his chest, head resting against his collarbone when he takes it with grace, drawing me closer to him, breaths still ragged and working their way back to even.

"I think we should make this a habit." He adds.

I feel his head tilt down to peer at me.

"End up in bed after every bet?" a smile curls at my lips.

"I'm not fussy where." He laughs, hand settling on the low of my back.

"I'll take you to my bed next time baby." I promise, letting my fingers absently trace the curve of his jaw, drifting to brush against the earrings glittering in his lobe, fingers carding through his hair.

"I could take you to bed in any of the hyungs'..." he offers with a grin, laughter bubbling and infectious as he tries to squirm back from my next swat. Dragging me with him regardless as he rolls onto his back, my body half-settled on his, propping myself up as I take in how much he glows with happiness, how prettily his eyes crinkle and his lips stretch into a wide smile that I feel my own smile ache in mirrored copy.

"Shower first? Food second... maybe another bed third." I acquiesce, slowly drawing away.

Feel his body hurriedly sit up, curling close to mine, head propping onto my shoulder as I sit on the edge of the bed, feel his arm snake around to band across my midriff. Feel his lips press to the curve of my shoulder.

Drawing me alongside him, the line of his body pressed to mine as I rummage through the drawers, ransacking them for his clothes to borrow.

"Anything you say baby."

HOBI POV:

I bend down to pick up the discarded jacket off the floor, a resigned smile already curving at my lips as I fix the shucked off shoes; only then realising that amongst ours is a pair that is very distinctly (Y/N)'s. Smaller amongst the others. She's here, she's home.

My eyes search curiously down the hallway for her but don't find any trace of her, fingers brushing over the same denim jacket I'd seen Kookie wear this morning, the same jacket I'd seen Joon tug him closer by, crowding against him to kiss him breathless.

But when I venture further, stepping through the kitchen, I'm surprised to already find them clustered there, to find more than one pair of eyes turn when I step through, reaching for the fridge door to tug open. Tugging out a bottle of water.

Eyeing the perch of both Kookie and Jiminie she seems to have amassed, both of them sat on the counter, bodies curled close as (Y/N) pauses in taking mugs down.

Eyes brightening when she spots me, hair still damp and drying and looking so happy. Making a beeline for her, watching as she sets the mugs down, body half-turned to track me as I bypass the half-entangled duo on the counter.

Gaze drinking her in with impatient eyes.

As if every time I saw her I would never get enough of seeing her, already impatient at the small distance between us as I draw her close for a hug, feeling her curl close as her arms wind around my waist, squeezing tightly.

"Hi Hobi."

"Hi beautiful." I murmur, brushing a kiss to her temple.

Unwilling to let go when she leans back, warm eyes searching me before she tilts her head to the kettle.

"Want a cup?"

I peer curiously.

"Coffee?" I ask, watching amusement flicker across her face as she shakes her head. Extra dismayed at my guess.

"Hot chocolate—do you need to ask at this point Hobi!" laughing as she teases me, ribbing me gently.

Slowly drawing away as she searches the cupboard before drawing it out, a pleasant tiny flicker of approval flitting across her face at the familiar brand.

As if Yoongi and Jin weren't more than astute in their silent observations, that they hadn't somehow gleaned the fact from her preferences, from the way she stocked her own kitchen.

It's a small touch but it's clear (Y/N) likes it.

But it was only a tiny part of the integration of her life melding with ours. I knew the cupboards were stocked with her favourite snacks just as much as they were with ours.

My eyes snagging onto a reddening mark from under the loose neckline of the jumper she wears, tugging the shoulder up as she drums her fingers against the counter. The same marks colouring the slender curve of her throat, lips kiss-swollen and red still as she absently takes her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Oh hyung, how could you forget? That sweetheart likes sweet things." Jimin crows, eyes bright and gaze warm as he watches her, fingers resting loosely on Kookie's thigh. Eyes slowly and unwillingly dragging away to the teasing lilt in his voice.

I shake my head, eyes drifting to settle to admire the colouring marks of red at his throat, undoubtedly trailing lower and further down. Hidden away by the loose, comfy set of clothes.

The two of them marked up.

And it's clear from the glittering heat and toying mischief in his words that clearly Kookie is one of the sweet things.

My skin heats at the thought, eyes drifting back to the discarded jacket and hastily shucked off shoes.

How far had they made it before they'd gotten too impatient?

How far and how low and how deep did those marks go?

"Had fun without us (Y/N)?"

She shrugs her shoulders, the movement loose and light and when she tilts her head to peer back at me, there's a curved lilt to her lips.

"Koo mentioned something about another bed—don't know whose." Voice light and teasing, playfully warm as she spoons out cocoa powder.

I hear a small, sharp intake of breath.

"I offer mine." Words crooned sweetly, eyes dark and weighted, hand unconsciously tightening on Kookie's thigh.

Her eyes pool with wicked tease.

How had we never seen just how mischievous her eyes could be? How much silent meaning and weight sat in them?

"I'll steal her to mine." I retort, delighting in the rich bubble of laughter, the way her features glow with it.

And siren or not. Her expression, her features, her happiness is what reels me in, draws my arms to wind around her, slotting close against her back, head dipping to press kisses to her nape, fingers brushing away damp tendrils of hair.

Murmur a secret wish to the soft, sensitive skin and feel her shiver against me, head tilting back and exposing the slender curve of her throat.

"Where are the others?" she asks. And it's no small amount of pleasure to find that her breath hitches slightly when my arms wind tighter, draw her against me.

"Yoongi's holed away in the backroom of the Magic Shop—a special project he's working on." Her eyes are full of curiosity as she nods, my lips brushing against the soft curve of her jaw.

"And the rest? I know Joon's with Habaek oppa."

My lips skim across the curve of her jaw, trailing to the corner of her mouth.

"Jin and Tae are out grocery shopping."

She nods, lips turning to mine when my arms gently manoeuvre her in the circle of my hold, draw her back to press her against the counter. Bracketing her body.

Lips kiss-swollen and bitten-red still when they press to mine, a soft sound muffled against me as she grips the front of my shirt and draws me closer.

And I'm here, hand squeezing the curve of her hip as I lean against her, mouth slowly chasing to explore hers, the soft sensitive plushness so giving against me, tongue briefly flicking against the curve of her bottom lip, brushing against the seam, head tilting to hers.

"And you were—studio?" she murmurs when my lips leave hers for an instant, voice a quiet murmur, fingers still drawing me closer.

I nudge my nose against hers, lips ghosting along hers in a butterfly kiss.

"How'd you figure?"

"You're wearing some of the clothes you leave for post-dance. Showered there?" she observes, fingers trailing against the fabric, knuckles brushing against my sternum before she cups my jaw.

The touch gentle and light.

I nod, tilting my face to brush a kiss across her palm.

"I've been working on something."

Excitement makes her eyes flash as she looks at me.

My eyes drifting to see that my words have snagged their attention too.

"Not necessarily for a competition—but it's something I want to work on as a group. Just been fiddling with choreo."

"Can't wait to see it hyung... especially because you won't even tell us what music it'll be too." Kookie brims with excitement, slipping off the counter easily before he moves to the fridge.

But I won't ruin the surprise.

Not when since finding (Y/N)... since finding she's a siren, I've turned to Yoongi hyung to help search music that she would've listened to, music that would be her taste based on the classics and haunting melodies she's drifted to time and time again.

Not when the next piece of music and countless more are songs for her, from her lifetime past that I don't want her to forget, don't want her to supress but cherish and celebrate.

Her eyes are bright as she looks at me, gaze turning contemplative and narrow eyed with amusement and tease.

"Not telling? Keeping a secret Hob-ah?"

I grin, hand cupping her cheek, leaning to brush a kiss across her lips, lingering when her tongue flicks against the seam of mine. Softly groaning at her hand skimming across my side, squeezing my hip tight.

"Not for anything?" voice lilting and enticing.

I wonder whether this is how her voice sounds to everyone else, heavy with rich enthral, cadent and warm and luring me in.

I wonder how much of her siren nature bleeds into her tone for others.

But I also know at this moment that this rich headiness is solely her.

And only we've gotten to receive it.

My lips press to hers, pecking briefly.

"Depends... going to make it worth my while minx?" her fingers skimming across the shirt's hem before delving underneath, fingers warm and pressing to skin, nails dragging lightly.

"I could dance for you?"

I tilt my head. Watch her attention drift when Jiminie approaches, Kookie a few steps behind her, sporting grins and tease as Minnie shakes his head.

"We all dance angel. And Hobi hyung is mean... you'll have to up the stakes and make it his while." He lilts, fingers brushing against my spine, lips pressing to my nape.

But her eyes dance with amusement and playfulness, her lips curving up wider, rosy, red, swollen and enticing.

"Oh by all means raise the stakes. I wasn't offering a contemporary dance anyways." Eyes dark and inviting question. Inviting closeness.

My body brackets her against the counter, letting my hand drift from her jaw to her neck, down to her collarbones, fingers skimming marks left behind, relishing in the soft hiss that escapes bitten lips when I press down.

"There's dances that aren't taught in many classes. But Mi-sun unnie and I went... she didn't care for it much. I loved it."

Words lilting and purposely beguiling.

My eyes narrow.

And I can feel the weight of Kookie and Jiminie's interested stares focus on her.

She gives a small wriggle where our hips are pressed flush, leg banding around my calf, fingers drifting distractingly across skin. Her vacant hand reaches to tug at my shirt, drawing me closer to her, lips brushing my jaw.

"And what dance might that be?" Kook's voice has gone heavier, eyes sparking with curiosity and faint inkling where this is going.

Her eyes drift over the three of us, eyes wicked and full of desire.

"I'm not practiced at the moment. But I know my way around a pole. Or a lap works just as fine."

And suddenly I'm reminded of a club with her body swaying and moving to heavy, low, sultry beats. I remember the arch of her throat and her hair wild and loose. The curve of her hips and thighs pressed between Habaek and Mi-sun. I remember how much I'd wanted then. Had forcefully tamped down the strong surge of attraction and arousal at the sight. How much I wanted to be the one her body pressed to or the one who pressed against her back, hands on skin.

I'm reminded of the fierce attraction and desire, and I remember not getting to dance with her. I remember Tae's voice slurred and tipsy, petulant and incoherent mumbles about her against my throat.

I remember how downhill that night went.

And the regrets of not being able to ask her to dance.

My eyes burn as I look at her, feeling the weighted tension of three gazes fixated onto her.

Leisurely, I let my eyes drag across the length of her body, fingers curling tight around her waist and drawing myself closer, hips bucking forward when her fingers press tight to the low of my back, the barest brush of her pinky slipping under the waistband.

It's a slither of movement, the barest of touches but it burns hot-white.

"Maybe I'll share." Voice rougher, heavy with arousal.

"Maybe the sight will loosen your tongue." She agrees, voice low and crooning, body half-turning to try twist free.

Breath hitching when my hips unconsciously press against hers, refusing to let go, to move away. Lips parting with a soft exhale when Jiminie brushes against her side, his hand tugging at the loose fabric, fingers brushing hair away from her throat to press his lips to her pulse point, teeth lightly tugging, pressure against a dark sizeable mark that Kookie's left behind.

"Going to be mean and just give Hobi a private dance?"

Her head tilts slightly, inviting his lips against the column of her throat, fingers curling into my shirt.

"Now maybe there's something you can—" she begins.

"Whatever this is... I want in." a voice interrupts.

My head tilts to face the newcomers, to take in the surprise morphing into amusement, lips curved wryly at the demand Jin's just uttered.

Tae's voice is low and serious when he speaks.

"Fight you for it."

And the bubble of laughter, warm and light and brimming with mischief seeps through the heavy intensity, exuberant and so, so wonderfully alive.

And I'm so wonderfully in love with the woman in my arms, the one whose lived lifetimes to come to love us in ours.

That we're the ones she loves and has chosen in her final lifetime.

And I choose you (Y/N).

My hands tighten around her.

"I'm not sharing."

(AHHHHH HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN FOR SS!! I'M SO SORRRYYYY FOR THE WAIT AND THANK YOU ALL FOR LOVING, SUPPORTING AND ROOTING ON BABY SIREN!! AND WAITING FOR HER STORY TO CONTINUE!! AND HERE IT IS!! I'M BACK!! HOPEFULLY UPDATES BEGIN TO BECOME REGULAR AGAIN WITH SIREN SONG AS WELL! AND JUST SO MUCH TO STILL COME?!?! SOME TIMESKIPS IN THE EVENTUAL FUTURE BUT FOR NOW~ WONDER WHAT DANCE SHE'LL SHOW AND WHAT MUSIC HOBI THOUGHT OF!! LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS! HOPE YOU ENJOY~ TAKE CARE!)

QUESTION... this is going to—SHOULD Hobi have a private intimate scene with baby siren or maybe... maybe an AUDIENCE of the others?

ANSWER—JUST TELL ME askskfwdngw

Borahae! 💜💜💜

PurpleQueenie <3