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darkphoenix5037 · 1 year

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Hey guys, I am a bit new to the fandom and this is my first fanfiction about any BTS members. Please be kind.

I hope you all like it.

TW-Mafia, Yandere, Non-consensual touching, breaking in, Kidnapping, stalking, threats.

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The weather was exceptionally warm as the sun slowly went down. It was sunny, and you had to squint your eyes as you watched the children at the swings in the playground. It was already 4:30 and most parents were late.

This was not a perk at the rich day care/school you worked at. Even though most parents had hours for personal grooming, poker at the country clubs or golf games, they were late to pick up their kids.

Always late with the same lines.

“It was a rather interesting game at the club!”

“The traffic was atrocious!” (Lies, It was far from rush hour)

Blah, Blah, Blah.

It was the same, every day.

As you was lost in your thoughts, you felt a hand on her shoulder. you looked up to her fellow teacher, Nicole.

“Have you seen that gentleman here before?” She asked pointing to a man on the other side of the playground’s fence. The man stood a few meters away, dressed in all black with a blond mullet. His long black coat accentuated his height making him seem like giant, you could tell he was well-built even at a distance.

“No. Should I ask?”

“Yeah”

You walked up to the man slowly, who looked at you as you neared, he took off his sunglasses as you neared. He was attractive, very attractive, dragon eyes, plump lips, smooth skin and jaw that could cut diamonds. He definitely won the genetic lottery, you thought.

“Hi, I am a teacher here. I was wondering if you were looking for someone, I haven’t seen you here before?”

The man smiled at her genially and said,” No, no I was just waiting for a colleague, his son studies here. I think his name was Mingyu? He was supposed to pick him up and drop him at home before we headed for a drink. It seems he is late.”

Gods, his voice could make men and woman weak in the knees.

“Oh, yeah Mr. Lee comes a bit late, I think he is stuck at work or that’s what he says. Anyways, I must get back to the kids. Sorry for bothering you.”

“No problem” His eyes had a strange glint in them.

You turned and headed toward Nicole quickly.

“He is waiting for Mr. Lee, Mingyu’s father, they were supposed to meet here.” you reassured Nicole.

“He is quite handsome, isn’t he? He was staring at you the whole time you were walking towards me.” She mused.

“I suppose he is.”

Nicole was about say something when Mr. Lee hurriedly neared the fence to pick up Mingyu. He didn’t notice the man as he picked his son up.

As soon as he did notice him, he went a bit pale. As if he had seen a ghost, he spoke something to the man. you couldn’t make out what he spoke. But the other man responded cheerfully and took Mr. Lee by the shoulders and walked him towards the direction of his home.

“Well that a bit strange.” Nicole murmured.

“Maybe he was a bit embarrassed to be late? Who cares?” you said.

“Yeah”

Nothing was said after that.

………………………………

“Don't turn around,” you whispered to Nicole and Hari, eyes firmly set on the tall frame of a familiar man that walked into the small coffee shop you and your friends had met up at. When they moved to turn, you hissed at them and they stopped mid-movement. Hari raised a brow at you in question.

“You remember the guy from last Wednesday? He's here, standing in the line. Second to last, tall, wearing a leather jacket and black boots. Don't make it obvious,” you said in a hushed tone.

You and Nicole had told Hari everything about the handsome mystery man and had listened to her moaning about how she would've loved to see him too because he sounded like a real snack from the way you were describing him. Well, now he was here and you weren't about to deprive her of the sight that he was.

“Damn, those shoulders are looking really-” Hari started as she swivelled in her chair to sit sideways on it and glance at the man. But she trailed off when she saw his face as he turned it in their general direction. She visibly blanched, immediately turning on the chair and facing you again.

“Do you know who that is?” she asked, her tone lowered as she leaned forward. You frowned, briefly glancing at the handsome specimen before shrugging and turning your gaze back to her.

“That is Kim Namjoon. I heard some nasty things about him from a friend. Haechan, you know him. He got involved with the wrong people and ended up being in Kim's debt. Let me tell you, that man is not someone you want to be indebted to,” she whispered frantically.

You would've shrugged this off as rumours, exaggerations or simply misconceptions and lies, but the scared look on your usually so collected friend's face made you stop. And the memory of this man, Namjoon, talking to the father outside the kindergarten. You knew something had been off. The way the man shifted slightly to stand in front of his child, his and the little one's discomfort. And Namjoon's imposing stance.

“I... are you sure? It does sound a little farfetched,” you tried weakly, but the look your friend gave you silenced any doubtful voices piping up in the back of your head.

“I'm serious. I don't know how Haechan got out of this unharmed, but he was really messed up afterwards. These gang people or whatever they are, mobsters, bikers, all the same, don't play games. You would do good to stay away from him if you ever come across him again.”

You nodded mutely, still watching Namjoon over Hari's shoulder. You froze when his gaze suddenly found yours.

“He's watching,” you bit out, trying not to move your lips and give yourself away, “What am I supposed to do?”

“Smile briefly and then look back at me, acting like we're deep in conversation,” she said quickly and then started to babble on about her week at work and the little fight she and her girlfriend had gotten into on Tuesday.

Meanwhile you sent a small smile Namjoon's way, acknowledging your recognition, and then turned your attention back to your still talking friend. You focused solely on her, nodding and laughing along as she told you about meaningless things.

You could still feel his eyes on you as you watched her talk.

………………………………

The following week was... anxiety inducing. You didn't know why, but Namjoon seemed to be following you around.

At first you tried to tell yourself you were simply paranoid and his appearances were mere coincidences. It wasn't uncommon to meet the same people at a supermarket or a coffee shop.

But the little book shop you'd discovered a few years ago, the one that was a hole on the wall, the one where you had never seen him ever, raised some concerns.

Then the tall menace started turning up along your way to work and back home, or lingered around the kindergarten, you were starting to grow restless and afraid. You had told Hari and Nicole about your observations and fears. After a talk with them, you had picked up the daily routine of texting one of them whenever you arrived at work and then got back home after.

Your suggestion to go to the police had been vehemently refused. It wouldn't be any good, Hari had told you. All it would do was get you more of his unwanted attention. So, you lived with your growing paranoia.

The aforementioned paranoia and anxiety skyrocketed at the end of the Monday after the first week of his eerie following you around.

You had just slung your backpack over your shoulder and were stepping out of the kindergarten building, your face turned up to the sky to soak up the afternoon sun, when a low hum from your right made you jump. Your eyes snapped open and your head whipped around. Your heart stuttered in your chest when you saw who had made the sound.

It was him. Namjoon stood casually leaned against the brick wall of the building you had just exited, his arms crossed over his broad chest. He smirked at your startled reaction.

“Hey there, princess. Didn't mean to startle you,” he said, not looking one bit sorry. You laughed nervously.

“Uh, it's alright. I wasn't paying attention,” you said quietly and glanced away from him. His staring was making you uncomfortable, the way he dragged his gaze over your body, taking in every inch before returning to your face. Nervousness made your heart beat a little faster.

“You're off to home then?” Namjoon asked, still watching you intently. You fidgeted on the spot, feet shifting and fingers digging into the straps of your backpack.

“uh-huh, just locked up,” you said and then cleared your throat nervously, “Well, I better get going.”

But when you started walking, Namjoon pushed away from the wall, matching your steps as you hastily scurried down the sidewalk.

“So eager to leave, sweetheart?” Namjoon joked, then added, “Oh, the name's Namjoon by the way. But I suppose you know that already judging by your behaviour. That's fine. I know yours, too.”

He proved that immediately by calling out your name again. Your heart stuttered.

You gulped, heart fluttering anxiously as you tried to come up with a response.

“Uhm, yeah. I've... heard of you,” you eventually got out, nervously glancing his way. He was still watching you with those dragon like eyes of his, a smirk curling the side of his mouth when he caught you peeking.

“No need to look so scared, sweetheart. I'm not going about hurting pretty things like you. Not really my style. You're perfectly safe with me.”

So, he knew that you had heard of his business. Or he at least suspected that you had. The lack of expression and your silence spoke volumes.

When you didn't reply to his utterance, he let out a low chuckle. It was a rich sound, full of amusement and something you would've enjoyed if it wasn't for the man making the sound.

“How about this, I take you out to dinner tomorrow and we can get to know each other better. You'll see that there's nothing to be afraid of. I can pick you up after work,” he suggested.

Your breath seized in your chest and your step faltered, almost making you stumble. Namjoon's hands shot out, grabbing onto your waist to steady you. His touch lingered as he told you to be more careful, palms sliding along your side and briefly settling on your hips and giving them a squeeze before he let the wandering appendages fall away.

“I- uh, I can't. Sorry,” you rushed out, your skin crawling from his touch. Then, without further ado, you rushed away, almost running as you rounded the next corner. You threw a look over your shoulder as you scurried over the sidewalk, but Namjoon was nowhere to be seen.

………………………………

To your misery and anger, your rejection didn't seem to deter Namjoon. He kept showing up at your work, joining you on your way to or from work. You were certain he knew by now where you lived. He would talk when he walked beside you, his long steps always catching up with yours no matter how fast you were walking, trying to escape him.

Namjoon didn't seem to mind that you didn't answer except to decline another offer at dinner or a drink. Every time you told him no, he merely chuckled in that amused way, as if you were just being silly, as if you were playing had to get and would eventually come around.

Well, you weren't.

Not if you could help it.

As if his oppressing presence wasn't enough Namjoon started to get handsy. Nothing serious, but the lingering touches on your waist or the way his hand would brush against yours when he was once more harassing you on your way to work were making you uncomfortable.

It was like a promise.

A promise of more than just slight touches and caresses. The thought made your skin crawl.

It made you nauseous with fear and anxiety.

It got worse when he started waiting outside your apartment building when you left for work in the morning. He even stood right in front of the door to your apartment, scaring the shit out of you when you swung it opened and stepped outside, only to leap back inside and slam the wooden barrier in his face. You'd waited for several minutes, but he wasn't leaving and you had to get to work.

“Come on out, princess. You'll be late to work,” he had taunted through the door, mocking you until you opened it again and stormed past him without sparing him a glance.

He upped his game by sending you flowers and other presents, jewellery, gift cards. A set of lacy underwear and bra was by far the most unpleasant one.

All of it was eating away at you, especially because you had no one to talk to about this madness. You had stopped telling your friend, assuring her you were fine and Namjoon had moved on because you didn't want her to worry about you constantly. You regretted your decision more and more with every day that passed, each one taking a bit of your sanity with it.

You were slowly going mad, paranoia a constant companion and your anxiety too happy to remind you of the looming presence of the dubious man every time you managed to push the thought of him out of your mind for more than a couple of minutes.

The fourth week into the madness you had started sleeping with knife by your bed side.

You slept with one arm dangling over the side of the bed so you'd be able to quickly grasp the knife should it be necessary. You practiced it for hours.

Your sleep was light since this whole thing had started, disturbances not uncommon.

That led to you being sleep deprived, agitated and short-tempered most of the time. But you had to reign it in at work. The children weren't at fault and they didn't deserve any harshness from you. So, you kept it bottled up, the toxic mix of frustration, anger, fear and lack of sleep festering away inside your chest.

………………………………

The deadly cocktail boiled over after a long and particularly trying day at work. The children had been disobedient and out for trouble, stirring up fights and causing all kinds of mischief. The only reprieve you got, was when you stepped outside after work was over and there was no sight of Namjoon. He didn't appear on your way home either.

But even that tiny bit of peace was destroyed when you unlocked the door to your apartment and stepped inside to find a bouquet of flowers sitting in one of your vases on the counter of your open-plan living room.

You certainly hadn't put them there.

He had been in your home. He had gone through your stuff to find the vase and then placed the flowers in it, putting them right there in your kitchen. He had been in your home.

The one place you thought could be safe.

The terror inside you spiked and you sprinted into the bedroom, grabbing the knife from your bedside table and then searching your apartment inch by inch to make sure the horrible man wasn't anywhere in your not-so-safe-anymore place.

When you returned to the kitchen, you slumped into a chair that stood by the counter with the flowers on it. You put the knife down beside you and glowered at the pretty bundle of colourful flowers. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, angrily staring at the bouquet. The longer you looked at it, the angrier you became.

How dare he to come into your life and turn it upside down?

How dare he harass and follow you, touch you without your permission?

And most of all, how dare he break into your place?

You were mad. The lack of sleep, anger, frustration and fear of the last weeks finally becoming too much as you sat there and stewed in your own dark thoughts.

A loud knock startled you out of your vengeful thoughts, your gaze snapping up and zeroing in on the front door. Another knock came and you growled.

“I swear to god, if that is his bitch ass on the other side of that door...” you cursed under your breath, grabbing the knife and tucking into the waistband on your jeans at your back. You felt like a criminal yourself as you stomped over to the door, ready to do whatever was necessary to finally get the obsessive man to lay off you.

You ripped the door open and your nostrils flared at the sight of Namjoon. It was indeed him, his usual smirk peeking out and taunting you as you stood in the door frame, shaking with rage. But before you could utter a single word, the man stepped forward, shouldering his way past you and into your flat. He pushed you out of the way and closed the door behind himself.

“How do you like the little surprise I left you?” he asked as he casually strolled through the room as if he owned the place. It made you snap out of your stupor.

“I don't give a shit about you or your presents. Leave my fucking home,” you growled and pointed at the door, your hand trembling.

Namjoon just laughed, tilting his head as he eyed you with slightly raised eyebrows.

“My kitten has claws after all. Where does that courage come from all of a sudden?” he taunted. “Not that I don't appreciate it. I enjoy a little fire in my woman. What I don't appreciate however, is that attitude you have going on, baby girl.”

“Don't call me that, asshole. I'm not your woman. I'm not your sweetheart or baby girl. I'm not your anything. All you are to me is a nuisance and I would appreciate it if you got the fuck out of my home and my life,” you hissed, voice wavering with rage.

“Careful, doll. Don't test my patience,” Namjoon said, the smirk gone and a steely expression in its place. You gulped and took a step back. But you didn't give up. You wouldn't, not so easily.

“I know you're probably not often told no, but I will do so, have done so. I am doing it right now. No, I don't want to go out with you, I don't want anything to do with you. Now please leave my home,” you pressed out between gritted teeth, forcing yourself to be firm but as calm as possible.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Namjoon started, slowly walking closer with his hands in his pockets, “You sound like you believe you have any say in this. One thing you are right about though. I'm not told no. I haven’t been told no since I took these streets, this city, this country. No one tells me no. You certainly don't tell me no.”

He came even closer, closing the distance between the two of you.

“And I will have you one way or another. You're mine and I decided as such, whether you like it or not. Accepting it makes it easier for both of us. Be good for me and I'll be good to you.”

He was closer now, almost at an arm's length. He pulled his hands from his pockets.

That was the last push you needed. That man wasn't going to give up, he had told you as much. You reached behind your back and pulled the knife out of your jeans. You brought it up in front of you, and brandished it threateningly at the blonde .

Namjoon's eyebrows rose up so high it looked like they were trying to escape into his hairline. It seemed you had managed to take him by surprise. After overcoming his initial surprise, Namjoon chuckled. This time it sounded almost impressed.

“When I woke up this morning, I certainly didn't expect my day would end like this,” he admitted, staring down the knife at your angry, but afraid face.

“You certainly have more guts than I gave you credit for. But who can blame me, really. You always seemed like such a timid thing. So sweet and friendly.”

You huffed. As if he knew anything about you. He only knew what he could gather from his obsessive stalking. He didn't know the first thing about the real you, the you, you were when you were alone or with your friends.

Namjoon's next condescending words pulled you from your upset musings.

“Do you even know how to use that, princess?” he asked, his tone obviously implying he didn't believe you did.

“My mother taught me,” you answered curtly.

“Did she now?” Namjoon said in a low voice, a threatening edge lacing his words. You didn't miss the dangerous glint in his eyes. You tried not to be intimidated by it.

“Find something fleshy and push.”

Your mother hadn't taught you how to stab. You didn't know the first thing about it. Your knowledge extended exactly to what you had just said. 'find something fleshy and push'.

“Is that so...” he said, his voice still threateningly low as he stepped closer, startling you when he approached until the knife was pressed right up against his throat.

Your hands trembled, fingers sweaty on the handle as you stared up at Namjoon, trying hard to hide your terror. It became stronger with the second, replacing the mindless rage that had guided your actions when you pulled the knife in your grasp.

Now you weren't sure about this anymore at all. And Namjoon knew it. You could tell by the victorious look in his eyes, the way the corner of his lips tilted up ever so slightly. Before you could further ponder and weigh your options, several things happened at the same time.

Namjoon moved, grabbing your wrist and twisting it until you let out a cry of pain and let go of the weapon. It was ripped from your grasp, the safety put on and then tossed to the other end of the room where it clattered noisily to the ground. Your legs were kicked out from under you and you fell to your knees. Namjoon's weight came crushing down on you, both your wrists gathered in one of his big hands and held above your head as he took you off your knees and pressed you flat to the ground, facing him.

Your lower half was restrained by his heavy body, legs tangled in his and unmovable. Your breath was coming in harsh pants as you tried to come to grips with what had just occurred in the span of the last five seconds. When you did, you began to struggle, shaken out of your shocked stupor.

“Let go,” you wheezed, his weight pressing down on you not only immobilising you, but also making it hard to breathe properly.

“No can do, baby,” Namjoon said, his breath puffing over your face as he held himself above you. He shifted, keeping your legs immobilised as he sat up, taking your upper body with his and pulling you up by your wrist as he got up fully. You stumbled to your feet, losing your balance from the sudden change in position and his impatient jerking.

Unable to catch yourself with your hands, you face-planted into his firm chest with a little 'oof', making him chuckle as he pulled you back and shifted your wrists from one hand into the other. His free hand reached up and brushed your dishevelled hair away from your flushed face.

You cringed away from his touch, shrinking in on yourself and pulling your shoulders up. He ignored your obvious distaste, grasping your chin between his long fingers and keeping your nervous gaze directed at his.

“I would really hate to punish you, princess. Behave,” he said coolly as he eyed you intently, taking in your dilated pupils and the fluttering of your pulse beneath the thin skin on your throat. His eyes followed the bob of your throat when you gulped.

All your earlier bravado was gone, the rage fuelled resistance and bravery all but obliterated by the man standing in front of you.

“I couldn't stop thinking about you after you approached me that day at the fence,” he said, still staring down at you. His touch on your face wandered, fingers drawing along your jawline and then tracing the shape of your cheekbones. You didn't dare move, your breath shallow as he kept touching you.

“Your pretty smile and beautiful eyes... I knew I had to have you,” he continued, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. “So, I watched, I waited. I had to learn more about you before I could take you. Gotta make sure I know all I can so I can take care of my woman properly.”

A shiver wrecked your frame at his sick and twisted words.

“As for the things I couldn't find out...” his touch wandered lower, caressing your throat and then moving even further to drag his fingertips across the tops of your breasts, “Well, I'll just have to see for myself. I'm a fast learner. Adept. I'm sure you'll come to appreciate it very soon, princess. I may not be a good man princess but I will be good to you. In all ways possible.”

You shook your head weakly, a whimpered, “No, please” leaving your lips. Namjoon shushed you, hand coming to rest on your throat. He didn't squeeze, but you knew he would if you made a wrong move.

“Now, don't act up baby. I know you're a good girl, so I will forgive your earlier outbreak. Continue being bad and you'll come to regret it very soon,” he said, slightly tightening his grip on both your wrists and throat.

Tears rose in your eyes. They were tears of despair as the reality of the situation finally sunk in. You weren't going to get away from him. He wasn't going to stop even if you did manage to escape his clutches in some miraculous way. He had claimed you as his, chosen you and decided to take you without asking your opinion or stopping to take your feelings into consideration.

Kim Namjoon took what he wanted and he wasn't told no. He was never told no.

You didn't struggle when Namjoon dragged you over to your front door, pulling you out of your apartment and guiding you down the stairs, catching you several times when you missed a step or two in your haze.

He was muttering quiet reassurances the whole way, brushing his hands across your body, squeezing and grabbing without your consent. When you stepped out onto the sidewalk, your gaze rose from the ground and landed on a black car standing on the side of the street a couple of feet away.

Namjoon followed your line of sight, reading the silent question on your features.

“I'm going to take you home, princess. Our home.”

#yandere bts #namjoon x reader #yandere namjoon #mafia bts #kim namjoon #bts x you

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jinkookspencil · 7 months

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the quest | ksj

your boyfriend's friends are a great help on your quest for a new hobby, leaving him feeling... irked?

description/tags: kim seokjin / established relationship / angst + a little fluff (the angst slowly builds until it's basically hurt/comfort) / feat. the rest of bts / jealous boyfriend jin / pov switches from yn to jin / no trigger warnings i'd say pg-13 / request from this anon! i hope you like it, sorry it's taken me so long, i wasn't feeling the best. i don't know if that feeling had an impact on the fic - i felt such an urge to rewrite the whole thing and start from scratch because i read it over so many times! that'll just take much longer so.. i might rewrite this sometime in the future or upload a shorter version since it ended up being my longest work ever???

wc: ~8k words

Statistics and relationship coaches claim that every introvert needs an extroverted partner. The extrovert to ‘bring the introvert out of their shell and live a little’ and the introvert to show the extrovert the value of rest and healing in solitude.

But no one who believed any of that crap had met you and Seokjin. You and Jin fit together like the pieces of the puzzles you two loved to solve together on the weekends.

The two of you were too alike: introverted souls with charming social skills and a small group of friends who ultimately loved staying at home and indulging in your stress-relieving hobbies in much-needed peace and quiet. Or so it seemed.

Early on in your relationship, Jin had boasted about his gaming skills to no end, so his irregular, prolonged gaming sessions came as no surprise to you, but considering this, what had been so surprising was the number of friends and hobbies he actually had.

Sure, you had your fair share of the same as well, but Jin did so much more than he ever let on: snowboarding, tennis, fishing, golf, and cooking, to name a few, and he carried them out with friends of all ages, from grandfathers in their sixties who he loved cooking with, to careermen in their thirties he played golf with on the weekends. When he finally invited you to see him in action, you quickly found out that it was as attractive and inspiring as it was surprising…

“All this because I sweat when I play tennis?” he said when his breathing finally returned to normal following his high, still lying naked on the living room couch after he invited you to watch him play.

“Yes… just like you’re sweating now,” you murmured, sitting up from your position between his legs and admiring Jin’s glistening, flushed skin as you grazed his chest and traced the muscles he loved to hide. “I don’t think I ever got the whole ‘jock’ thing being attractive, but it was hot… seeing you all sporty. I wish I could be like that... I want to be. I need more hobbies.”

“What do you mean?” Jin says, sitting up. “You love to read. Everywhere I turn, I see books - if there hadn't been a bed in your old apartment, I’d have thought it was a library, and now my - our - apartment is beginning to look like one.”

“I’m in the worst reading slump of my entire life. I need to do something different. More hobbies. More friends. The girls are great, but… seeing you, I feel as though I want… more. I want to be a better version of myself - and for myself. Don’t they say that happens to you when you find the right person?”

Jin’s lips meet yours once more, briefly, before he pulls away and opens his mouth to whisper. “I understand striving for ‘better’ or ‘more’ baby, but I hope you know that you’re enough. You’re always more than enough. Just the way you are. You’re good. You’re great. You’re beautiful. I love you.”

The simple yet significant words, coupled with Jin cupping your face and brushing your hair to the side, were just what you need at that moment to put your mind at ease, and you easily fall asleep in Jin’s arms.

The quest for a hobby was supposed to be simple. Try, and try, and try until you saw what would ‘stick.’

It was clear early on that your boyfriend’s hobbies would never be yours.

Jin begrudgingly demoted you to ‘his sous-chef-for-life’ when you nearly burned the house down three times in your attempts to surprise him with dinner.

His own gaming etiquette got in the way of you ever enjoying a good game with him, for he had no patience with newbies, and you didn’t have the patience to learn all the controls. The only good that attempt did was him buying you a PC and every gaming accessory possible in your favorite colors, even though they mostly went untouched. For his sake, you’d use the Switch controller whenever he insisted on a game of Mario Kart, and you visited your PC every now and then for a slower game. “I’m a GAMER. AND I cook. AND I fish, too,” you tease Jin every time you play Cooking Mama and Animal Crossing for all of 15 minutes.

Fishing, on the other hand, was a scene from your worst nightmare. Being woken up at the crack of dawn to maybe catch a fish after hours of waiting while seasick… was something you swore to Jin you’d never do again. Luckily, he seemed to prefer it as his usual “boy’s time” anyway, even though he never voiced it, and you quickly found out that the exact same could be said for golf - but neither of you minded the occasional role you played from the golf cart, seeing your boyfriend in action and matching in the most bougie athleticwear on the market.

Tennis… was a sight to behold. You had always said that when it came to Jin, attending some of his practice sessions just to bask in the sight and sounds of him on the court, but the same could also be said for you, though in an entirely different context. The racket seemed to reject your very being, flying from your grasp on numerous occasions and putting Jin’s trainer at risk as well as the general public when it went flying over the court’s walls and onto the street. Jin went so far as to dub it ‘the most memorable tennis day of his entire life,’ despite the fact that he had won a small championship.

Until snowboarding season came around, you were left without any new skills or passions shared with your boyfriend. His support and endless words of encouragement meant the world, but iIt had to have been for the better that none of his hobbies were yours - you understood that those were spaces he needed for himself and didn’t want to be the girl whose entire hobby or life was her boyfriend.

Nights and days he spent away were left entirely in your restless hands - try, and try, and try….

“Are you seeing Mina tonight? Nana? Girl’s night?” Jin asks as he puts on his coat.

“They’re still sick,” you pout. “I’ll be waiting here for you, baby.”

“Do you want to come along? Mr. Baek’s kitchen is always open.”

“Didn’t you say you were making some kiwi pie thing today? You know I’m allergic.”

Jin resigns, taking off his coat. “I’ll stay, then.”

You don’t allow him to, handing the thick, fleecy material back to him. “No, baby, I’m fine. Tonight, I’m trying out a new interest: European classical movies. Apparently, French films from the 1960s are very influential and artistic.”

“And boring,” Jin adds. “I watched some at university. You’re better off with Asian cinema.”

“I’ll leave that for whenever you’re free, then,” you say, anticipating the day but quickly putting the thought away. “I’ll be blasting this film so loudly, not even your ‘soundproof’ gaming room would be safe from its jazzy soundtrack.”

Jin smiles before parting his lips, considering the words he was hesitant to speak. “What if… what if I called up Taehyungie and asked him if he’s free to hang out with you?”

You drop your head as you raise your brows. “You’re arranging a play date for your girlfriend? I’m a grown woman, Kim Seokjin. I can entertain myself, much like you can…...” Your voice trails off, thinking of all the failed attempts at entertaining yourself with different hobbies and interests that were anything but interesting.

“It’s just that I know Taehyung would love that! C’mon, you know he would! You seemed to be getting on with him whenever we see the boys, right? Didn’t you both fangirl over Frank Sinatra the last time we hung out?”

“It’s Bing Crosby, honey.”

“There you go - I can’t even tell the difference… but Taehyung can. For what it’s worth, he’s complaining in the group chat non-stop that he’s bored out of his mind. So… why not?”

Steps away from his front door, Jin could hear trumpets echoing from his apartment. Taehyung worked his magic, alright, he thought to himself as he inputted the keycode and swung the door open. Jin expected to see the two of you lounging on the couch, watching the film, or simply having the music play through your vinyl player while you chatted away with a glass of wine. What he did not expect was to see the two of you drunkenly dancing in horrible fashion with intertwined hands and Jimin laughing his head off from the couch.

“OH! Speak of the devil!” Jimin cheers, seemingly sober. “Jin-hyung, save me from these two - please.”

In a second, you rush to Jin, screaming his name as you wrap your arms around his neck and messily kiss him on the lips. “Thank God. I can do as the song says and finally dance with mon cherie. Tae, mon ours, go sit.”

A pout appears on Taehyung’s face as he plops beside Jimin, but your eyes are still on your boyfriend, attempting to manhandle him into some form of movement. “Oh, my baby,” he laughs, letting your head rest on his shoulder. “Taehyung, I expected you to take care of her.”

“And that’s why I called Jimin,” Tae babbles, forcing a not-so-innocent childlike expression on his face, pointing at their friend. “We-we’re staying over tonight, okay?”

“Seems like a sleepover already,” Jin tuts.

“Humor her, hyung. I was called in halfway through the film and we’ve yet to finish it because they keep repeating the same scene. She’s been saying she wants to dance with you all night like the girl in the movie does,” Jimin says.

“I’ve never seen this film. I don’t know what to do,” Jin says.

“We’ll teach you,” Taehyung says as tries to rewind the film to whatever dance scene you were talking about, in as bad of a state as you were, which Jin thought would help. “Jimin, stand up.”

Jimin does, allowing Taehyung to latch onto him, and thus is immediately suffocated by the weight of his friend. “Copy my lead, hyung.”

The following morning, Jin is as fiery as the breakfast he’s cooking up on his own, ranting to himself in pout while the three of you only watch on due to your shared lack of cooking skills, hungover and bundled up at the kitchen counter.

“Do you think yoga and meditation suit me as hobbies?” you ask the boys after you and Jin had explained how you came up with ‘the movie night to end all movie nights’ as Taehyung had labeled it.

“With your patience?” Jin scoffs, and you’re quick to shoot him a glare - it stung, perhaps more than it should've, so you quickly put the thought away. Nights alone and countless failed hobbies exhausted your patience, but he hadn't seen that... as you hoped. After all, Jin was always supportive and offered not only to stay the night prior, but also indirectly gave you one of the most memorable movie nights of your life with Taehyung. A soft glare was enough.

“That’s exactly what I mean! You need yoga and meditation, but can you do it? Sit still like that?" You open your mouth to argue but fail to do so at the sight of your shaking knees - he was right. "Oh, hey, you know who else can’t sit still?”

“Who?”

“Jungkookie. You seemed to get on with him, too, no? If you’re looking for something active, why don’t you let him teach you boxing?”

“We do pilates together too, twice a week, if that’s more your thing,” Jimin quickly adds, “You’re free to join us any time.”

“Yah, it’s not easy,” Taehyung jumps in, taking a bite of the breakfast that was now in front of him. “If you want to exercise your creative skills, which is a million times more fun, we can do a painting session together. Just for fun, it doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“Exactly! That’s what I’ve been telling her,” Jin says, pointing his hands in thanks towards Taehyung for echoing the words he'd spoken to you restlessly when you gave up origami and journaling. There had to have been some wisdom in the advice, you think, but your patience had been worn thin... how much more could one person try?

"She wants whatever she does to be ‘perfect’ at the very first attempt, but that’s impossible," Jin continues. "The only perfect thing in the world is her, but even she has to start as a beginner. That’s the point of hobbies - they don’t have to be perfect, you just need to enjoy them.”

“You called me perfect,” you blush, kissing Jin’s cheek. The reminder sufficed to get your legs to stop from beneath the kitchen table, now fiddling with the fabric of his hoodie. It was hard to envision being good enough or interesting, but at the very least, one person had seen you as such. Jin and his constant reminders were the only things that kept you from falling off the deep end... he never let you stray too far, even in your thoughts, nudging you towards Jimin when your head started to rest against his shoulder the way it always did when you needed reassurance.

“Pilates does sound interesting…” you mumble.

“Good!” Jimin cheers. “Tomorrow. You, me, Jungkookie.”

“Oh, but first,” you pause, holding Jin’s arm. His eyebrow is already raised, knowing you were about to tease him. “Are you sure it’s alright for me to go work out with your very fit and adorable young friends?”

“I am sure, brat,” Jin says, rolling his eyes before quickly whispering to Jimin, “Make sure Jungkookie keeps his shirt on.”

One pilates session with Jungkook and Jimin quickly turned into two, which turned into three, which turned into boxing sessions with Jungkook alone, regular morning jogs with Jimin, and a newfound love for fitness. Boxing made you feel stronger, and Jungkook’s thoughtful observations and comments were of more help and motivation than your now-shared instructor. And catching the sunrise at dawn really was as beautiful and as ‘worth it’ as the annoying health gurus claim to be, something you and Jimin begrudgingly admitted to.

Jin had been supportive as he always was.... up until the day you almost fainted, scolding Jungkook and Jimin for not being more careful of you and insisting you take a week-long break.

“But honey, I don’t want to stop so abruptly! I’m on a roll and I miss the boys already! And for the record, they are always so considerate. I messed up and did more than I should've, but I'm fine today!” you pout, laying on the couch with a hot compress on your core to relieve your soreness and snacking on a fruit bowl, as Jin instructed and prepared.

“My love, you’re exhausted. I don’t want to hear any more of it for at least five days….” he tuts, carefully placing kinesiology tape on your skin. “I hate seeing you this upset, though. You said you feel as though your brain ‘opened up’ when you began exercising, right? Well, why don’t you try exercising that beautiful brain? Take Taehyung up on his offer and take an art class together.”

So you do. Sandwiched between Taehyung and Jungkook at back-to-back painting sessions, you were inspired by their very different approaches to their shared hobby. Tae had his signature style that seemed to effortlessly flow out of him and onto the canvas every time, whereas Jungkook tried a different approach, concept, tool, or style at every session. Both boys seemed like natural talents, but you found peace and awe in Taehyung’s freedom of expression and especially Jungkook’s itch to learn and try new things so fearlessly time & time again...

It was hard to tell what you would create from session to session, slapping paint on a rough pencil sketch every time, but with every stroke of your paintbrush and conversation with the boys, you could breathe a little better...

“Ya, with all these colors… Is this what Namjoon-hyung calls ‘modern art’?” Jungkook teases, staring at your latest creation. You’re quick to poke him with the paintbrush for teasing you, and he’s quick to reassure you.

“It’s Pollock-y, dear Jungkookie the Artist Who Hates Learning Art History,” Taehyung explains. “It is art.”

to: my love [6:01pm]: hey, how’s the art class going? how are the boys?

to: prince charmjin [6:32pm]: good! we’re basically done!! we’re going out for dinner. jungkookie is hungry and i think I owe him for making him listen to my rant on the injustice women face and how society is built on misogyny

to: my love [6:34pm]: hehehe knowing jk, he was willingly listening, like i did. even he’d agree that you don’t him dinner. i made pasta at home..

to: prince charmjin [6:51pm]: aw :( we’re already at the steakhouse. maybe jk will be in the mood for pasta later too though

to: my love [7:01pm] have fun :)

to: prince charmjin [8:58pm] on my way home, honey. tae’s dropping me off. jungkook wanted to come but he’s asleep right beside me and he’s tae’s next stop.

to: my love [9:02pm]: good, they’re taking care of you just as i asked them to

to: prince charmjin [9:04pm]: they’re the bestest boys. i don’t need them to take care of me though. :3

“They’re my babies, and I love them,” you remark to Jin after showing him your latest creation, a matching one-of-three painted self-made pottery sculpture with the boys.

The younger boys were your safe space, he thought. Good. And… so am I.

“And I’m your biggest baby that you love the most,” Jin smiles, pouting his lips in want of a kiss. When you grant his wish, a feeling washes over him… one that he couldn’t help but identify as temporary. A seconds-lasting painkiller. “I guess you get the younger boys, and I get the older ones. I’m closer to them anyway. You’ve met them all, haven’t you? Namjoon and Yoongi? And Hobi, of course.”

“Hoseok is always here, Seokjin, so of course, but I think I’ve heard of Namjoon and Yoongi more times than I’ve actually seen or met them. Do they have any hobbies I can steal? The boys mentioned something about Namjoon and art?”

“Namjoon is art. In that he's beautiful and unbelievable, but also that he is interested in anything and everything art-related - museums, galleries, exhibitions, and all that crap. And fitness, so… there’s that,” Jin says, instantly regretting his words at the memory of Namjoon working out, grateful for remembering his friend’s most unenjoyable hobby to move on to. “Oh, he actually hikes! He meditates in the mountains like a wise old man afterwards. Hoseok likes dance, of course, but he also loves fashion. Yoongi likes fishing and drinking with me only,” Jin emphasizes, having always been proud and appreciative of the fact that he’d been the only one who was ever able to get Yoongi to join in on another’s hobby. “By himself, Yoongi plays basketball.... he’s studying, he plays tennis, fencing, he reads, produces, he scrapbooks, he gardens, he runs, he gardens, he flies, he soars! He actually might be Superman.”

You roll your eyes, prompting Jin to explain. “Sorry, inside joke with the boys. Yoongi does so much and is so secretive about it all that I wouldn’t be surprised if all of that is true. But he’d say he’s Batman rather than Superman, actually. I’m Superman… right?”

Jin places his hands on his hips, buffing out his chest and glancing at you through his periphery, hoping his extra hours at the tennis court paid off whenever you'd had an art or fitness session with the boys. He had to know if you saw him as such, as some type of Superman… especially after the countless times you’d trained with Jungkook and Jimin. Though he tried to push the thought away, the image bit at him, even now when was messing around. A seed of something he couldn't quite name...

When your hands are on his shoulders, trailing down his chest, he begins to relax. Even more so when you use his fork to finally take a bite of the dinner he’d prepared. Perhaps he’d been too worried.

“Well, we both know I don’t need saving, but I’ll play along, my handsome Superman. This Lois Lane wants to meet and investigate the interests of the rest of your Justice League, baby.”

“Okay,” Jin murmurs. “Who should we start with?”

“Namjoon? Hey, he’d probably be Aquaman, huh? Same nature shit, apparently, and definitely the same body.”

Perhaps he hadn’t been too worried.

to: prince charmjin [9:02am]: i am texting you from the beyond. from the spiritual realm.

to: prince charmjin [9:03am]: come climb up this fucking mountain and bury your girlfriend she’s dead and hates her life and didn’t pack enough water

to: prince charmjin [9:03am]: you’ll know the way, my blood, sweat, and tears left a trail

to: prince charmjin [9:04am]: i gotta admit it’s pretty tho (1 image attached)

Knew it.

Jin was rarely a smug man, but he couldn’t help but indulge in the feeling when he’d woken up to your texts and later when you trudged into the apartment, resigning from a hiking day with Namjoon and swearing you’d never do it again. He guessed you’d hate every second of it but didn’t want to hold you back from your mission and trying something new. His pride is quickly squashed, however, when you follow up the sentence with a declaration that he’d invited you to the opening of an art exhibit the very next day.

“I’m his VIP guest, honey,” you cheer, kissing Jin on the cheek. “And I’m going to the afterparty too so you can have a boy’s night - call your grandpa friends! Oh, it’ll be past their bedtime, won’t it?”

He forces a chuckle. “I hate that that’s true. Plus, I’ve seen way too many people this week, so I’ll game til the early hours of the day - just like I did when I was single.”

Jin hates that the thought had left his lips. It was honest, he had missed his gaming marathons when he never had someone to go to bed to, but it was cruel to mention. He hated the idea that some part of him meant it as such, as a signal, a cry, anything… you never said such words or guilted him when he’d been busy. It was spiteful, it wasn’t like him…. or was it?

“Oh, great! I know you used to love those game-a-thon things. I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t realize you stopped because of me. I hope you know you can do those at any time, okay? I won’t mind.”

Something turned in Jin’s stomach. The seed of what he could only label as worry was now an undeniable pit at his very core.

He should be ecstatic at the fact that you were so accepting of him possibly spending an ungodly amount of hours gaming… but it was too accepting. A smile was on your face, but for the first time in your relationship, Jin couldn’t read what it was - as though a sudden, unknown filter stood between you. Was it temptation? An unthinkable impulse he sensed on your end... Joy, relief, or freedom? Perhaps it was, Jin couldn't tell. It ate at him now, and instead of surrendering, he fought with what he had left.

This… this was the least he could do for you, he told himself, thinking of all the ways he came up short as a boyfriend where others succeeded.

He replayed the image over and over again - the way your eyes light up after every acquired skill or hobby. Your subsequent, beautiful smile seemed like the only thing he could hold on to, keeping aside the anxieties surrounding the reasons behind it. It had to be reminder enough. Seeing you happy made him happy. He knew that…. but he also knew that something dark festered within him. He didn’t like it… he didn’t like it all…

to: y/n [5:30pm] on my way home

to: y/n [5:35pm] just got here… where are you?

to: y/n [6:01pm] are you working out?

to: y/n [6:02pm] hey?

Jin needed to blow off some steam.

Gaming didn’t work. The incompetent online players he was paired with only infuriated him further, and the shot he took only made his heart race faster. He thought to spend some time in the kitchen, but he couldn’t help but overthink, indecisive over whether to cook dinner for the two of you or just for himself. When a thought came to mind - to cook something you’d hate just to spite you for not answering his texts and calls with no prior warning or explanation - he quickly discarded the whole idea. He wasn’t hungry anyway.

A best friend would do, he figured.

When it came to opening up, he could only ever trust his younger friends - the ’grandpas’ as you liked to call them, often gave him outdated advice he never cared for. Plus, they didn’t know him like the boys did - since they now know you as well, Jin figured it was the best-case scenario. Surely, they’d have something to say.

But another hour passes, and still, none of Jin’s messages were seen or answered. The younger boys hadn’t answered when he’d asked if they knew of your whereabouts, and the older ones didn’t answer his calls or texts to talk. His skin began to crawl…

until he remembered the failsafe. Out of everyone, Hobi was the only person who still revealed his live location on a social media app to his friends. It was something Jin in particular scolded him for, knowing it was a safety breach, but now, he was thankful for it.

Of course, he’s still at the damn dance studio.

Is that…?

Chills shiver down Jin’s body the second he hears the music through the studio’s walls. It’s a song he knows too well… and so do you.

Following the music with long and forceful strides that echo through the corridors, Jin bursts open the door to Hoseok’s own practice room. And his stormy intrudance is proven to be justified.

In front of the mirror were you and Hoseok, dancing too close together to a song from Jin’s secret sex playlist, surrounded by the rest of the boys, watching closely and making teasing noises that shook his very core.

“YA!”

Jin’s voice booms throughout the spacious room, overtaking the loud music playing through every speaker. The group scatters, every person with a horrified look on their face…. yours hurt the most.

Rage was unfamiliar to Jin. He didn’t know what to do with it, feeling it then and there. One would normally shout or yell, question and guilt, as he’s seen and studied before… but his lips were frozen in a frown. He wondered if it was common for one to cry out of fury, though no tears streamed down his face… he knew how to hold them back. His senses confused him, distorted, forced to venture into uncharted territory. Jin could hear differing calls of “Hyung” and what must’ve been excuses as someone turned off the music - all muffled and intelligible. Through it all, he could hear only the soft call that left your lips amidst the chaos, “Jin, my love…”

With his eyes still fixated on you and the words that ease his sole, the knot within him came undone.

His throat throbs and everyone knew what it meant, though no one was close enough to see the pools in his eyes.

“Everyone leave,” you command, and the room is empty save for you and Jin within seconds.

The downpour starts. Though his face was frozen cold, Jin’s body allowed him to move, and all he could do was pace the studio and ignore your small steps toward him. When he finally stops, you’re close enough to stand before him, your head no longer hung so low. The guilt on your face was almost enough to make Jin forget his feelings.

“….I’m so sorry, my love,” you say after a moment’s silence. His lips tremble at the words, wanting to refute them… he doesn’t need to say it for you to understand.

His breath is hitched when he sees your hand extend towards his face, which he tilts just as he always would when you did this. He exhales as you do when you cup his face so gently, moving to your touch as his tears are wiped away. But when your hand brushes over his mouth, he can’t bring himself to purse his lips into a kiss as he always would. The dark seed within him still tugged him back from fully diving in.

“Sit for a moment?” you ask, and he nods, feeling his knees giving way as you lead him to the two weirdly placed chairs by the giant mirror wall in Hoseok’s studio. While you sit with your side to the back of the chair to face him better, he slumps against the hardwood backing, staring at the ceiling as his eyes dry up so he can finally face you once again.

“I can’t talk much. I.. what is this? What am I?” he mumbles with a strained voice, pushing the skin at his temples. “Fuck… I’ve tried rehearsing this, and even then, the words just didn't come out. I can't put a name on it, but I don’t like what’s been happening. All of it. No… No, not all of it.” Jin breathes deeply before continuing. “My girlfriend is never around, and not only that, she spends all her time with my best friends… without me. I know you’re on your journey for more self-discovery and that you really like the boys, so I feel like a piece of shit for feeling this way and for saying this, but… fuck, I’m... I'm angry.”

Jin sees you take in his words, brushing away a couple of runaway tears. “I understand. You have every right to be pissed,” you repeat. “I… shit, I’m sorry, Jin. I never meant to exclude you, my love. The boys don’t either… but that doesn't excuse it... It doesn't." You go stone cold, as though you were replaying the time that's passed over and over in your head. "Will you allow me to talk for a little while? Can I… unpack it all on my end?”

How could he not? Jin nods.

“I learned a whole lot on this 'quest’ which started with your support, I may add - and I’m not blaming you here. I’m thanking you, honey… You’ve been incredible.”

Already, Jin starts feeling sick, hearing the words of a definite breakup speech and knowing that he was the furthest thing from incredible. His friends were. All he can do is watch, now looking at his fingers as he bites his own nails on an unsteady hand.

"Most guys would never even suggest to their girlfriend the idea of her hanging out with his friends - alone. I'm so grateful, honey, and not only that, it actually might be one of the sweetest, most attractive things you've ever done..."

H-huh? Jin tugged at his own sweater, thinking of the possible ways you'd get to the end of your speech and the conclusion that stated what he ultimately feared - that the attraction, or worse, the love, wore off with all you were left with.

“But most of all, I'm grateful. I'm different. I probably wasn't around that much for you to see, but... on this quest, it was as though I unlocked parts of myself I didn't know I had. That was a past version of me, the girl who was in an eternal reading slump, and was too scared to do much else but stay in that slumpish cocoon... I love my cocoon and staying in, don't get me wrong, but I just have more things that give me joy. I feel more certain of myself - like more of that confidence you rubbed off on me. It seems trivial, I know, but everything... everything helped."

You were right. Jin hadn't seen any of it - the rewards of your quest. He cursed himself, knowing he could have if he only paid attention, recalling warped memories of your pride and new experiments. He didn't have to take your word for it, seeing some of it now. You were more sure of yourself. Bold. Happier. That one note settled it - if this grand speech were to end the way he had expected, all that mattered was that. That you were happier.

"That's good," he croaks. "I'm proud."

"I'm proud of myself, too," you nod. "I am the slightly more improved version of myself I knew I could be. Maybe I could be even better, I don't know... but through it all, I kept repeating to myself the same phrase, over and over again. 'You’re enough. You’re always more than enough. Just the way you are. You’re good. You’re great. You’re beautiful. I love you.' Those words... that's what kept me going more than anything."

Jin's breath is hitched when he's finally able to look at you so directly, at the woman he loved with his entire being, quoting his own words. He had meant every word then, prior, all throughout, and would for eternity. If those simple words were enough to help, though he was certain they were not enough to capture the depth of his love, he had served his purpose in life.

"I was entirely motivated by self-love and your love for me, Seokjinnie. I fucking love you," you exhale, and Jin does too, coming undone. All he could do was hang his head low as the tears instantly return, and in seconds, you're at his knees, reaching for him. Like he'd foolishly been dreaming of...

"I don't deserve you. I've been so... so..." his low voice trails off.

"My love, let me finish, hmm? It'll help," you whisper, trying to hold onto any piece of him, and Jin lets you, feeling a rush through his very soul at him being called as such by you. He just hoped he wasn't awaiting more cushioning for a devastating blow... even so, it was one he was now reminded to fight for.

"I have to talk about the boys. I obviously enjoy the hobbies I do with the baby boys - you remember when I told you how I love how strong I feel now? How I feel creative for the first time since high school? That holds up, and in truth, the boys are just angels. I developed such a close friendship with Jiminie, Taehyungie, and Jungkookie that I don't think I can let that go. I just adore them…. and so much so that I’ve been trying to set them up with the girls - Nana, Kiki, and Mina.”

A breath escapes Jin, his fingers stroking his chin. It made sense, he thought. Nana and Taehyung in particular would be perfect together…

“I know you’re closer with the older boys, and I haven’t forgotten them. Namjoon is very cool, but… pretty much none of what he likes works for me. Hiking is as bad as fishing, no offense, and art is only fun when we’re mindlessly having fun in the studio. Otherwise…” You scrunch your nose at the thought, shaking your head violently in disapproval - the endearing act that never fails to make him giggle, even now. “The only reason we keep in touch is to talk books, which… you know I’ve always liked,” you explain.

Jin nods. You and Namjoon’s reading speeds always made him feel like a third-grader. You’d sooner finish reading a 700-page book than learn how to make a simple grilled cheese sandwich - Namjoon was the same. In a world where most people were not as such, at least you two clumsy nerds know of each other, he thought.

“Dancing was… always on my list of things to try, believe it or not. You were there when I brought it up to Hoseok,” you recall the interaction you’d had weeks ago, and so does Jin, who had been so taken aback at your suggestion to Hoseok, having assumed you’d want fashion or social media advice from his savvy friend. You’d never danced sober more than simply swaying, even on the most private occasions… there was never any reason for him to know dancing was always a thing you’d wanted to try... but then again, perhaps the 'new you' had been buried too deeply. But it took guts to ask Hoseok - he knew you knew that as well - the sheer courage and confidence that must've settled in only recently….

“But…. I pretty much told him that I didn’t want him to teach me anymore after the first lesson. He’s like… really fucking scary, Jin, holy shit. I know you've mentioned it, but I didn’t think he was capable of being like that! I thought he was going to kill me!” Another giggle escapes him at your shock. If you had simply run the idea by him, he’d have told you that already, he thinks to himself, as he did after your hike with Namjoon, but he chooses to say it out loud this time. “Oh, lesson learned, believe me, honey. I passed it off as me wanting a female instructor, which I do. Because well….I couldn’t tell Hoseok I wanted to learn burlesque dancing now, could I?”

“Bur-burlesque?!” Jin says, leaning forward as if it’d make him hear any better.

“Mhmm….” The faint, smug smile on your face calmed his heart - it’d been a while since he’d seen you as such - but it did nothing to calm his mind. Just the mental image of you…. “And pole dancing too. I keep telling my instructor that I want to surprise my boyfriend, so she helped me come up with some choreography involving… things you like.”

Jin’s excitement fades when he remembers - the song. “Was that what you were showing the boys?! When I walked in….”

“As if. That’d be for your eyes only, honey. When you walked in, we were just teasing Jimin about something stupid. The song just came up on shuffle.”

Jin shakes his head and stands up to pace the room, replaying the scene once again and scolding himself. Once again, it’s as though you can read his thoughts. “It probably looked odd from your angle…”

“Why was everyone there? Wait, was that Yoongi in here too?” It’d taken Jin this long to realize Yoongi had been present as well. Save for the makeshift therapy session Jin had wanted to have earlier in the day, he had been trying to schedule appointments with Yoongi all week - a needed fishing trip and a work meeting, but his friend only ever answered when Jin had been fast asleep. Had Yoongi been here for Hoseok? Jimin?

“My day started with Yoongi,” you sigh.

You?! The one person who knew of his desperate attempts to get to Yoongi?! he thought, so shocked he had to sit down, opting for the space on the floor in front of you instead of the chair.

”No secrets, especially since I’m laying everything out today. It was my first time hanging out with Yoongi, just so you know. I wanted to pick out a good anniversary gift for you since that’s coming up, and we went shopping for all these fancy liquors. Then, he was just meant to drop me off here at the studio, and after my lesson, I found out he just stayed since Hoseokie was already here in the other room with Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung. And Namjoon… he was just here, I guess. Actually, I think he’s hiding that he’s dating one of Hoseok’s dancers. The boys seemed to tease him about it?”

“Oh shit, good. He’s always had a crush on her,” Jin smiles to himself. It starts out as happiness for his dear friend, knowing how deeply Namjoon’s affections could run, and when the crush began. It was right at the start of Jin’s own relationship with you. At that time, for the first time in over a decade, Jin finally understood his friend. Namjoon loved love. He got so caught up in the idea and complexities of love, talking endlessly about how it’s the center of the universe, tying everything together. “It is science,” Jin would always rebuff until he couldn’t. Until he understood. He wasn't going to forget any of it again - not even for a second.

And once again, the woman he loved cups his face, searching his watery eyes, and kneeling on the floor in front of him.

"….Did you ever feel this way?"

You consider his words and think over yours. "Angry? A little jealous? ....Lonely? If that's what you've been feeling... Yes, sometimes."

“Then you don’t have to be sorry, my love. I’m sorry I got angry more than anything. I… didn’t like that. That wasn’t me…. was it?”

“Not the usual you, but it’s the human you. It’s within reason… I never saw you get jealous before, which is a green flag since I know you trust me - as you should! And I trust you! But still, as someone who gets jealous over you often… it weirdly reassured me, I guess? That you still want me.”

“…. Wait, you get this often?!” Jin blinks.

“Honey, I feel jealous whenever anyone follows their urge to say you’re handsome, which is very often. I always wish I could answer with ‘AND HE’S MINE’ and giggle like a little leprechaun who's hoarding a pot of gold all for himself,” you say with a tone so serious it makes Jin erupt in his signature dolphin-noise laugh for the first time that night.

“I’m always yours! And I always want you! Honey… this is a dark feeling. How do you deal with it often…. I… I never want to feel this way ever again,” he exhales, tugging on the fabric of your top before your hand covers his.

“I deal with it because you always remind me that you’re mine and I’m yours, like you did just now. Because you make sure I know you love me. I… I try. I promise I’ll try harder, my love.”

“No, honey, you do more than enough. I know you love me. I do. I was just… blinded, I guess, which I fucking hate. I… I thought I’d be stronger, better than to fall into this stupid mental rut.”

“You’re human. You’re my human,” you smile, hand slowly trailing down Jin’s cheek but lingering your touch over his pursed lips. Jin’s hands find your waist, and your arms immediately wrap themselves over his shoulders. When your racing hearts calm together in sync, and your breathing follows, the world falls into place and both of your meaningless defenses yield. Your bodies and spirits rest against one another, tired, aching, and longing. Jin wanted just this. To keep you close, for all eternity, if he could… if you’d wanted the same. He’s reassured when his attempt to tighten his embrace falls short, realizing how closely you’ve been holding him in turn. It was physically impossible to be any closer, and still, it wasn’t enough. Exhaling against you, with a hand somewhere in your hair at your back and the other holding your head, his senses overwhelm him once again. It’s too much, the love he’d felt at that moment. Dreamlike, even when he notices that his hand had been lying right over your bra strap. And he remembers even more.

“So… burlesque, huh?” Jin smirks.

“What do you think the chairs are here for?” Turning, Jin’s jaw drops when sees the two now-empty chairs. He tries to hide his excitement by covering his face when he sees you, sure it is red already.

“Oh, with a reaction like this, I’m definitely keeping it as a hobby then. I’m good at it too,” you smile, brushing his hair. “It’ll be good and all for you, baby. Painting random shit and fitness has been fun, especially with the younger ones, and burlesque will be for the both of us. But! My quest is not over, and my introverted self is not fulfilled just yet. I still have crocheting, writing, blogging, and photography to try out. I want something that’s entirely mine.”

“I promise that I support you with trust, love… always,” Jin thinks over his words, fidgeting with his fingers.

“And…I’m…..entirely yours,” he says quietly, a smile finally fixed on his face.

“And I’m yours,” you say with a smile, finally pulling Jin into a kiss that he can’t help but melt into. It’s soft, quick pecks and affectionate murmurs until you straddle his lap. Suddenly, it’s as though your entire mature conversation and successful attempt at communication never happened, and you replayed it all then and there. He reaches for you, pulling you down and onto him until you gasp. At that, Jin’s hand at your nape pushes you into his kiss, and you let him. He bites at your lower lip, moaning when you’re quick to do the same back, yet his sounds grow louder when he lets you passionately kiss him all over. In a fight for stability, he grabs onto the nearby chair and breaks away so suddenly.

“The - the damn boys are still here. I think I heard something break in the corridor - it’s either Namjoonie or Jiminie.”

You open your mouth to say something but don’t, looking at Jin instead. “If they’ve been trying to eavesdrop and want the gist of it, how would you like it if I fake moaned your name a bit too loudly so they know I’m yours and only yours?”

“It doesn’t have to be fake, though, does it?” he asks, leaning back on his elbows and lying in wait, positioned in front of the mirror. Seeing a turn in your gaze seconds before you pounce on top of him, Jin is electrified. Your name leaves his lips and his yours, not just as a moan but a promise. A quest of his own. To make you happier and happier for as long as he lived and more. To find a new way to love you every single day. You deserved as many as the universe had to offer.

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