JIN POV:

What they'd done on their date I'd certainly expected to be memorable...but this was new. This was dangerous thrilling uncharted territory that we were being steered towards, that we were tugging each other into.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the photos, from the tableaux of sin and debauchery, of two people in love losing control, restraint slipping away with each theme until nothing but want and desire remained, until their bodies pressed close, a lover's embrace, raw and powerful. Almost as if they'd been bare instead.

And in that only sinful longing desire remained, curving around their ethereal forms.

They were stunning.

And I knew in that moment perhaps what I never had truly understood before. I understood why Tae loved photography, why he found such delight in capturing beautiful moments together. I understood why the photos he'd taken of us, decorating the walls, were so powerful. Because the subject, the focus of the photos had to be. They had to be lost in their own time and space.

And in the photos of (Y/N) and Tae they were lost in each other, they were stuck in their own world, uncaring of the time passing by, uncaring of the decades their clothes showed they'd travelled to find each other.

They were trapped within their own moment, encircled in their own bubble of space.

And when my eyes trail over the others, they're no less affected. Tae for all that he'd been smug and satisfied as he'd showed just exactly what had transpired between the two, there was a flash of memory in his eyes, there was longing glances darted towards her, there was a restlessness as he fidgeted and leaned against Joon's legs.

My eyes go to settle on her, on where Yoongi's drawn her onto his lap and looks at the photos from beside her, head pressed against her shoulder, murmuring to her. Something akin to mischief and tease dancing in his eyes as he tightens his hold on her, moves to pick up a photo, eyes roving over it painstakingly slow.

(Y/N) mumbles, cheeks pink as she mumbles something, eyes sliding away from the photo, Yoongi smiles, lips parting to show a flash of gums as he says something softly.

Her cheeks turning a deeper pink and eyes flashing as she speaks, perhaps louder than she'd expected.

"I said it's my fault for inviting him into the dressing table and asking him to lace me up. Can't trust those hands." she says, voice an indignant loud exclamation. 

My eyes flit to Tae to see his lips curve into a smirk, eyes pooling with desire.

Yoongi's hold on her suddenly tightens, tugging her flush to him as he leans to speak, voice much softer as he replies.

But there's silent predatory intent in the way her body is tugged to his, with the way his hand moves to her throat, fingers curling around the dark bruise Tae had left behind, featherlight touches as he touches the mark, something both fascinated and entranced in his gaze as he watches her expression, watches her shudder, eyes fluttering shut under his careful ministration.

So beautifully responsive.

So distractingly tempting.

And when the photos are tucked away, Jiminie's lips jutting out, shiny from where his tongue had darted out, flicking against the fullness of them as he gathers them up, hands careful as he handles them.

The boys all look affected. Hooded gazes, slightly dilated pupils. Bodies tensed up and silently waiting, silently anticipating for someone to shatter the silence.

And then Kookie shatters it.

"You both look good." Voice hoarse and rough, affected by the sight of them alone.

And Tae coos at it, turns to draw Kookie close, long jewelled fingers reaching out to tilt his chin towards him, lips soft and lazy against him. But the curve of his fingers curling around his jaw is possessive, is firm, drawing Kookie towards his mouth. It's clear who's controlling the kiss with the way Kookie falls into the touch, head bent under Tae's, eyes fluttering shut and a small whimpering sound slipping out.

Besides me, Joon twists, shuffles in his seat, so clearly drawn to the sight, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, just as taken by the sight of Tae coaxing sounds out of Kookie, mouth parting his, soft stolen murmurs between breaths before he parts their lips.

Pressing a kiss to the corner of his now slick swollen mouth.

"Thank you Kook-ah. We tried our best didn't we pretty?" he asks, turning to shoot a coy look towards (Y/N) who's eyes widen, lips parting in a silent exhale.

Nodding when Yoongi gives a silent squeeze of encouragement, her body pressing back to him.

The air crackles and thickens, stifling with the sparks pushing off everyone, brushing against each other.

Hobi stands up, helping to put the canvases aside, posture stiffer and more coiled up.

"Lunch. Let's get started on lunch." He suggests, diffusing the air, smiling brightly when (Y/N) hops at the chance, scrabbling with pink cheeks to rush to his side as he approaches the doorway.

Not turning to see the way Yoongi's face turns to one of disgruntlement, pouting at the loss of her from his arms, from his lap. Watching the way she hurries out of sight.

She was an enigma I decided. Somehow being both sweet and shy and oozing charisma and sensual allure all at once.

Something so complex but yet so her, something that couldn't be explained or unfolded or picked apart but yet made sense. Fit her.

And when I follow them to the kitchen, it's to walk in to the sight of Hobi cooing as he brushes kisses across her heated cheeks, murmuring to her softly.

The two of them turn to me walking in, smiling softly and his hands just looping around her and content to sway the two of them, cradling her to him.

Soft gentle pecks to the side of her shoulder as he spins her to face the two of us.

"Sous-chef?" I ask with a smile.

Seeing the amusement and challenge flash in them. 

"Of course head chef~", eyes crinkling with fondness when I tie her apron up for her, soft pastels.

She looks at the two of us.

"They're cute!" a light remark as she fiddles with Hobi's apron strings and tie them into a bow.

"Just like you." Hobi chirps, pecking the tip of her nose.

Face radiant with laughter and love when she mumbles and steps away.

An enigma for sure.

All soft and sweet as she steps into pace with us, flitting around us and easily syncing with us.

An enigma, but also someone so intimately familiar to us. Someone who's movements I recognised, someone who I could read by body language alone.

And someone I wanted to spend a lifetime in learning.

-------

It's quiet. Quiet as (Y/N) settles down in one of the corners of the living room, tucked away from everyone, brows furrowed and pen fiddled around in her hand. Writing away on some cute writing paper Jungkookie had dug up on Joon's request.

She sits alone. A pair of borrowed headphones from Yoongi carefully shutting her away from the world as she writes, pen occasionally tapping in time to the music, eyes turning at times vacant and unfocused.

But she writes and writes. Pours out everything she wants to within the letter.

A healing technique Joon had mentioned at dinner a few nights back.

Somewhere for her to vent out all those bottled-up memories, all those pains and aches that we saw flickering in her eyes at times but always remained unspoken.

And apart from handing over the stationary, everyone had given her space and privacy. No-one had approached or hovered close. Letting her do what she needed to.

Everyone had dispersed. Giving her the time she needed and the space to work without feeling eyes on her.

But I'd stayed. Something had urged me to stay. So I stayed.

A distance away. Eyes occasionally flitting to her, heart aching when I saw the way her hand trembled, the way she swallowed heavily, head ducking away from sight, pausing to recollect herself.

I saw and I ached. Hurt for her.

Wanting nothing more than to cross the gap and hold her through it.

But I knew this was something she needed to do for herself. Needed to do alone.

And when she was done, she stood up.

Silently padding over to me, fingers stained with ink and pages carefully folded and out of sight.

"Do you have an envelope Jinnie?" the voice soft and light, startling me out of my reprieve, eyes turning away from the phone screen in my hand to look at her.

There's a redness underlining her eyes but her smile, despite the way it wavers, is strong and positive.

I nod, hastening to my feet.

"I'll get you one. I'm sure Joonie has lots of them..." I say. Moving to rifle through drawers, hands stilling when I open one stashed with stationary, drawing one out for her.

"This okay?" I ask.

Watch as her fingers silently pluck it out of my hand, nodding as she puts the pages inside, sealing it without preamble.

See the way she bends to write something across it.

To the (Y/N) who died. From the (Y/N) who lives.

And smiles when she turns to me.

Sees my eyes fixed on the words.

Heart twisting with how much pain she must've been through.

"Come on Jinnie. I'll help with dinner." Hand reaching for mine.

Squeezing mine to draw my attention to her gaze.

"You're really strong you know." I say.

Watch as tenderness softens her expression.

"I think I'm finally learning that." She whispers.

A confession to me. To herself.

A secret shared between us.

And then I smile as I lean to press a kiss to her lips.

"Now come on sous-chef. Let's see exactly whether you can take my title away." I whisper.

Laughing when her lips surge back fiercer, a harsh fiery press of mouths.

"Let me prove it."

------

There's something crackling between us. Something teasy. A push and pull game. A tug of connection between us, winding us closer.

Reeling us in close to each other, drawn to stand sides brushing, fingers lingering when they touch.

The others outside. Building up for the barbecue. 

A bustle of noise and movement that had faded as the kitchen door out to the garden had shut.

Voices and presences seeming eons away, leaving only the two of us.

And I loved it.

Loved this stolen moment together, of laughing and teasing, of helping each other, of sneaking glances to see the way the way her hands moved with practiced ease, hair tied away, revealing the slender column of her throat and the curve of her jaw. Eyes catching on the way her earring sparkled and caught the light, moving when she did.

Smiling when without turning she felt my gaze on her.

"Need something my head chef?" she asks.

My eyes light up at the way she says it. So softly and delicately uttered, the way her eyes are full of laughter when she turns to me, smile stilling on her rosy lips.

"Nope. Just admiring the flower in my kitchen." I say nonchalantly.

She flippantly points to the cupboard where she'd put it away not too long ago.

"You see through cupboards now Jinnie?" she teases.

I step closer, eyes flitting to the glossy sheen of the mixture she'd been carefully folding.

"There's only one flower I care for. And she's right here." I say, fingers brushing against her jaw to turn her to me, pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips, lips lingering against warm skin.

Pulling away to see the multitude of emotions that flash there.

Silent as she ponders over words before she ducks away.

"I told you that you were distracting Jinnie. Stop making it harder to remember the recipe." She says, breath hitching when her hands go back to folding the mixture, reaching for a tin when I step behind her, arms around her waist, hooking into the pockets of the apron and tugging.

Drawing her against me. Smiling when her back brushes against my chest, a small, muted sound when her hand tightens around the tin.

"Too busy to let me hold you?" I ask softly.

Her head turns over her shoulder, eyes meeting mine slowly.

Shaking her head.

"No." then as she begins to grease the tin she leans against me, back pressing more firmly against my chest, bodies flush as she relaxes in my arms, content to work with my body curled towards hers.

But she's far too focused and composed I decide as she begins to pour the mixture into the tin, humming as she works.

I tug her more firmly against me even as I push back up against hers, lips trailing over the curve of her ear, tugging her ear lobe briefly between my teeth, nosing at her throat, lips trailing over the skin and stopping to kiss the juncture of her shoulder and neck.

Mouth closing around an already dark bruise, tongue flicking against the ghost of slight indents, humming against her skin and smiling when she shudders, a small, muffled groan as her body shivers, my eyes taking in the way her hand trembles, a bit of the mix spilling onto the counters.

"Jinnie...." She breathes.

It comes off as a small tremble, light and wavery. Shaky too.

I like the way it sounds.

"Mhm darling flower?" I ask, teeth dragging across skin and feeling the way she wriggles, hips pushing back against me, a startled groan ripping out of my throat at the way it causes my body to flare with a sudden pulse of arousal.

"Stop..." she breathes, head falling forward slightly.

My mouth slips away, pressing a smatter of kisses down to her shoulder, thumb rubbing circles on the opposite arm.

"Stop what?" I whisper.

Lips trailing across the exposed nape of her neck, stilling there when her hands curl around the counter.

"Stop teasing. I want to see you." she murmurs.

Voice softly imploring.

My hands slide back to her waist, twisting her around to face me, eyes drinking in the sight of her, the way her eyes look blown open, dilated pupils, breath shuddery and head dropping to rest against my shoulder, fingers curling into my shirt as she tucks herself close.

Heart feeling overwhelmingly soft and fond.

"That's not seeing me. That's hiding your pretty face away from me." I tease, murmuring it to her bent head.

She mumbles something incomprehensible into my apron, long moments where she just curves close before she raises her head.

"You're impossible." She says, voice wavery.

I shake my head.

"I'm yours." I correct, unable to stop myself from leaning in close to kiss her, addicted to the feel of her lips against mine, of the way they meld to mine, slotting together perfectly, sighing when her mouth parts under mine, tongue slowly delving to brush against the seam of my mouth, slipping in when my mouth responds to her touch.

There's something so instinctual and familiar about the way her hands tug at my shirt, drawing me close, pinned to the counter when I lean into her, my thumb grazing the top of her cheekbone, cradling her face towards mine.

Something so gentle and new about the way I feel need build, a flame that slowly gains strength, gains heat as I get lost in her, swallowing down the small sounds and exhales, feeling every shudder, every movement so vividly.

My hands slide up and down her waist, sliding down her thighs and gripping them, tugging at them until she silently gets the message, allowing me to draw her up, her body cradled by mine as she locks her legs against my body, tugging me close as I set her down on the counter, hand hastily pushing away the tin and bowl from reach.

Sighing when her lips mark a path from the corner of my lips to my jaw, nosing at my throat as she fiddles with the apron, untying it from around my neck and hands moving to untie it from my waist, hands tugging at it.

"Impatient?" I ask.

And she just presses a kiss to the hollow of my throat, lips brushing past the skin that the open buttons allow for, body tilting into the touch when her touch ignites a scorching fire, breath teasing against my skin.

"For you." she replies honestly.

Smiling when my own fingers tug at her own apron, drawing it off her, hands delving to cradle her waist, hands firmly resting on her skin, fingers panned out and chasing after the heat seeping off her.

"You're addicting (Y/N)." I murmur.

Watching as her head tilts to the side, earring catching the light as it swings slightly, eyes curious.

"What does that mean?" is her confused response.

But actions always speak louder than words. Because (Y/N) had always used actions when she had no words, no voice to speak with.

Because I'd learnt to recognise every change in expression, every shift in her body language, learnt to know just exactly what emotion was in the curve of her lips.

Because I'd fallen in love with her, because I'd fallen in love with her mannerisms, with the girl who never spoke, who couldn't speak. Because her silence had had sound as it thrummed and came to settle in my heart.

My lips are slow as they trail over her, fingers tugging her sleeve aside to slot my mouth to the curve of her shoulder, hands wrapped back around her, fingers tracing shapes onto skin, brushing over the dip of her waist, curving around her back, teasing at her stomach before dipping to tug at the button of her jeans, undoing it before my hands inch back up, thumbs teasing at the heavy underside of her breasts, sliding under the band to brush against the soft weight of it. Smiling when it gave me a plethora of new sounds, sounds I wouldn't ever forget.

The way her eyes fluttered as a small needy sound bubbled past bitten lips.

The way her breath hitched when she wriggled close, hips pushing against me, legs locking tighter to keep me close.

"Jinnie..." murmured against my neck when her head dropped forward, feeling the tingle of her lips pressing there, the slight reverberations to my skin, lips mouthing at skin wetly, tongue flicking against it.

My hands dip back down, tugging at the hem of her shirt impatiently.

"That's what you are. You're intoxicating." I murmur even as I lower myself to my knees, her legs unwinding with surprise, blinking down at me.

And my lips quirk at the sudden gasp when I tug her calves forward, drawing her to the edge of the counter, fingers hooking into the belt loops of her jeans, head resting against her leg as I blink up at her.

"Can I flower?" I ask.

A nod, eyes lidded as she looks at me.

Hips rising when I draw her jeans off, fingers brushing against the soft satin hugging her hips.

"You're beautiful." I murmur, head turning to press kisses to her calves once I've drawn the jeans off, unhurried as I kiss along the curve of her legs, rising to brush featherlight pecks to her skin, hands gentle as I cradle her legs as they part, breath warm as I brush kisses to the inside of her thigh, tongue flicking against the fainter purple mark of fingerprints decorating them.

Her fingers slide into my hair, tugging lightly as her breath hitches. Tightening when I stop to suck a mark of my own to her inner thigh, fingers tightening to keep her still when her leg jolts, hips bucking forward.

"Stay still (Y/N)." I mumble against her skin, tugging her closer and only moving away when her skin is slick and reddening, pressing kisses to it.

When my head moves back to take in her expression, I don't fight the groan at the sight of her eyes clenched shut, lips pressed tight and head fallen back, fingers clutching at the counter, body tilted back as her chest heaves.

Taking large breaths of air.

She looks delectable splayed out across the counter.

But I rise to my feet, pressing a kiss to her throat.

"Let's take this somewhere else. Let's get you comfortable." I whisper, drawing her close and smile hidden in her hair when she winds her legs around me, shaky but holding on as I scoop her up, body pressed against mine, breath trembling as she pants against my throat.

It's only a fleeting regret that we never quite got to put the tin into the oven.

Forgotten entirely when I carefully set her down on my bed, when she draws me close into a feverish close.

Drawing me within her, tugging me into that inferno that melds us two together.

Drunk on the taste of her, on the feel of her. Enthralled by every fibre of her being.

(Y/N) POV:

His touch is both light and torturous, riling up as his fingers brush under the waistband of my underwear, tugging slowly as he draws it off me, fingers skimming across the outside of my legs as he tugs it off. Taking his time.

Pressing kisses before he slots himself between my legs, legs closing around denim as I stare at him, tug at his shirt to draw it off him, hands grazing at the side of his waist and torso, playing with the rumpled strands of hair, taking the time to straighten them and fix them. Smiling when he shudders when my nails trail along the side of his torso, catching under his ribs and hands sliding over his chest.

There's corded muscle and soft warmth under my hands as they move up his chest, sliding across the broad planes of his shoulders, reaching upwards to drag my teeth across them, nipping lightly as my hands slide to grip at his arms.

"You're beautiful Jinnie." I murmur, hands unable to stop their marvelled exploration of him, unable to stop running over his skin and remembering what touch where made him tilt into it, what made him shudder, what made him groan, head dropping forward into the crook of my neck.

There's safety and tenderness as well as something deliciously tantalising about the way his body pins mine to the mattress when he falls forward, torso flush with mine, back arching when his lips mouth at the straps, when his teeth drags them off and his tongue flicks across the swells of my chest, pushing into the touch. A whimper slips out when his mouth hot and wet closes around fabric, teasing and playing, his hand snaking around my back to undo the clasp. Something so tentatively sweet and gentle when his fingers fumble, when his hand is careful even as he leans back to tug the fabric away from me.

"You're devastatingly so. I could have this forever. I want this forever." He corrects, lips slow as they drift down, head bent over my chest, a whispered promise absorbed into skin before his tongue flicks out, sucking and nipping, hand pinning my hips down when they buck up, body arching off the bed at the touch. Keeping me still and unable to escape the torturous way his mouth leaves marks blooming in its wake, trailing down to my navel, a hitched giggle slipping out when he noses at my stomach, the sensation ticklish, petering off into a moan when his head lowers, gripping my hips and drawing out a slew of noises when he unravels me with his touch.

Slowly taking me apart bit by bit, laving attention over my body, a mixture of soft and gentle and fiery and fierce, imprinting the shape of his hands across my body where he grips me, lips burnt across my skin that seems feverish, seems to heat with the simmering inferno that begins to blaze between us, mounting higher and higher.

The waves of pleasure that build are slow, soft lapping waves that tease at skin, weighing in heavier and heavier when he draws my legs over his shoulders, diving in to draw a cry out when his mouth closes around me. And when I drown in waters after tumbling off the edge, it's Jinnie's voice that keeps me adrift, keeps me floating and from being lost in it, holding me as I tremble under him.

"I've got you (Y/N). I've always got you." he promises, voice gentle, drawing himself up as he peppers kisses across my body.

My eyes go to him, taking in the sight he smiles at me, the radiance in the wide curl of his lips blinding and entrancing.

"I love you Jinnie." I whisper when he leans in, murmuring it on every inch of skin my lips can reach, hands curving around his neck, mouth dropping to suck a mark to the hollow of his throat.

Lips kissing at his skin before my teeth drag the skin between them, nipping at it, tongue flicking over the slight sting, pushing myself up to feel his body press against mine.

"I love you (Y/N)." he replies.

And when I feel denim-clad thighs still brush against my skin, I frown.

Fingers sliding down to undo the button of his jeans, dragging the zipper down, lips twitching when he hisses.

"Take them off then Jinnie. If you're all riled up." I tease.

Hearing a huff of laughter before he leans away, hastily tugging himself free of clothes, my eyes drinking in every feature, breath catching at the way he moves to hover over me.

"You made me that way." He retorts.

My head falls back to the pillows, eyes drifting over every inch of skin.

"What are you going to do about it?" I ask.

Watch as a mixture of amusement and heat flashes in his eyes.

Eyes that tell me that I'm playing with fire.

But we're both too far in, we're both lost in each other, submerged in the flames.

We're both consumed within each other.

And his response is in the way his hands cradle my hips, yanking me down the sheets, settling properly between my thighs, my legs sliding around his.

A soft kiss pressed to my temple as he pushes his hips forward, rubbing circles into my hips when I tense, head thrown back at the sensation, soothing me even as he continues to roll his hips further into me.

And when our hips are flush, when he's settled against me, so wholly connected, his lips press kisses to my cheeks.

Soft light touches his mouth makes as he draws back before thrusting back in, deep slow purposeful thrusts as he drags himself in and out, hips rolling against me, body pushing against his, arching and back rising off the bed to meet every slow drag with heated, pooling urgency.

For all that his lips are light, his hands are a fierce possessive grip, drawing my hips to meet his, unrelenting as he draws out whimpers. And for all that my hands scrabble for hold, gripping at him, legs drawing him closer as they lock around his waist, my mouth is frantic and urgent. Teeth dragging across his skin, open-mouthed kisses and murmurs pressed to his body.

And when we chase our highs together, ecstasy in losing ourselves within each other, in finding ourselves within each other, our lips meet, shuddery exhales as we share breath. I love yous shared in that moment our lips meet when we cry out into each other's mouths, my hands clutching at his back, body pushed up against him and pinned when his drops down.

Our lips part, chests heaving for breath as we stare at each other, sheer fondness in his gaze as he looks at me.

I feel my heart quicken, beating rapidly, feel the air catch in my throat to be receiving the intensity of the love pouring out of him.

Feel his touch gently extinguish that roaring blaze, quietening the consuming want as we look at each other, as his hands rub circles where he'd held me.

And when he scoops me up, he only sets me down when we're together under the shower spray, bodies curved close and slick with water, unable to stop smiling at each other.

Sharing kisses under the downpour of warm water, laughing when he begins to dry my hair only to draw the towel forward and to dive for a kiss under it, a darkness settling around us as he smiles against my lips. And he hands me a loose jumper of his, blinking a bit in surprise before rustling around to find a pair of shorts.

"We might have left your jeans in the kitchen." He says apologetically.

My cheeks warm.

And when we walk downstairs, the din of voices has returned to the inside of the house.

He whispers as we enter the kitchen, uncaring of the eyes that turn.

"We forgot to put dessert in the oven."

Because right where we'd left it the tin waits.

Mixture even and spread out. Covered for now.

Feeling utterly unapologetic for the yelp he gives when I pinch his hip and step away.

Cheeks hurting from how wide my smile goes.

(WHOO! THERE WE GO! FOR THE LOVELY READER WHO A FEW CHAPTERS BACK SAID THEY WANTED TO SEE JINNIE AND BABY SIREN GET HOT AND HEAVY DOWN IN THE KITCHEN! THIS GOT A STAMP OF APPROVAL FROM MY DARLING Midiiplier AND ME AS WE DISCUSSED SO HERE IT IS! HOPE IT WAS SATISFACTORY! THERE'S SOMETHING JUST SO PLAYFUL AND YET GENTLE ABOUT THE DYNAMIC BETWEEN JINNIE AND BABY SIREN SO I LOVED EXPLORING IT MORE IN THIS CHAPTER THAT GOT WAAAY LONGER THAN I'D INTENDED BUT WELP! NO REGRETS! LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS ABOUT HOW YOU FOUND IT MY DARLINGS! THE LETTER!! IT'S WRITTEN AND I WONDER WHAT'S INSIDE! LITTLE GLIMPSES OF IT! THERE'S THIS DEEP EMOTIONAL CONNECTION BETWEEN ALL OF THEM SO I WONDER WHO'S PERSPECTIVE IT'LL BE NEXT CHAPTER! ANY GUESSES WHAT SORT OF STUFF IS WRITTEN INSIDE? AND TBH...THE BOYS LOVE DRESSING HER IN THEIR CLOTHES! EVEN IF HERS WERE THERE TOO! AHHH! I LOVE WRITING ROMANTIC BABIES!! HOPE IT'S ENJOYED, TAKE CARE AND STAY SAFE LOVES!!)

QUESTION....what sort of magical being do you think Jin would be?

Mine is....hmmm I could see him as a warlock, I've seen a few fics with Jin as a witch too! Honestly the man COULD be a siren too you know? Or like a fallen angel/angel vibe too.

Borahae! 💜💜💜

PurpleQueenie <3