#taehyung devil au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

borathae · 8 months ago

Text

↳ Index [Day 01 - Hotel Room Sex]

Pairing: Good Puppy!JK + Soft Mistress!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Rockstar!Jungkook

Kinks: porn with plot cause it's my demisexual ass, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, nipple play, nipple sucking, hair pulling, passionate pegging in missionary, use of a buttplug, lube, frotting, handjob, orgasm control, multiple orgasms (m.receiving), overstimulation, he pisses himself because it feels so good, subby boy tears, praise, dirty talk, possessive talk, muscle kink, cuddly and giddy aftercare

Wordcount: 9.2k

a/n: i can't believe i'm actually insane enough to do kinktober. besties, we're in for a ride :) this is based on this ask 💙

Jungkook sings about sex and drugs and getting drunk. He sings about the girls he fucks and kisses and how they all worship him. And he isn’t wrong. They worship him by the base of the stage, stretching their arms to him and screaming their throat raw, as if he was their god.

You don’t blame them. Jungkook looks good. Way too damn good. He is the lead singer and guitarist of his band Black Omens, a rock band known for its enchanting vocals and heavy guitar riffs. He has a certain style of singing and of playing the guitar which drives the fangirls wild. The stage is always lit in red shades and you will always find him in tight leather pants and tank tops. Sometimes he wears no shirt, showing off his tattoos and piercings. His hair is always a certain kind of wet on stage, hanging into his sexy face messily which truly fits the lewd topics he sings about.

And the girls go wild. He sings about being their master, their devil twisting their world all while he fingers the guitar and makes sultry eye contact with the crowd. They love it, you watch from the back with a knowing roll of your eyes. If only they knew.

The concert ends after the second encore with roaring applause and screeches. Tears are spilled and way too many undergarments thrown at the band. What a bunch of weirdos. You are jealous of them. Well, maybe not jealous but threatened. Jungkook promises you that he is loyal, that what he sings about isn’t how he truly feels, but with each concert your devotion to trust him shrinks. He asked you to come on tour with him, not wanting to be away from you again for months on end. You quit your old job two months ago because your manager decided to slip his hand under your colleague’s skirt and you broke his nose for it. Fair enough, you didn’t quit, you were fired, but you left with your head held high, knowing that your actions also resulted in your manager losing his job. And so you were unemployed and therefore had free time, so you agreed to come with Jungkook on his tour and postpone the job hunt until after. You had enough money saved up to live comfortably after the tour and while on tour didn’t need to spend any because the band budget paid for everything. Of course you agreed, but you slowly started to regret it. Jungkook sings about sex and drugs and getting drunk, he sings about all the women he dominates while thousands of willing women scream at his feet in hopes of being picked. You are only that strong in your belief that Jungkook is loyal before it finally starts to affect you.

Tonight was an especially bad night. While the band was saying goodbye, Jungkook brushed hands with a few fangirls – all of the band did – and it made you furious. The way they looked at him, how they grabbed him and basically begged to be his next willing thing to dominate made you furious.

The band leaves after their goodbyes, talking to each other as they jog down the stairs.

Hoseok, the drummer, and Yoongi, the lead guitarist, share a water bottle. They’re the first by your side, followed by Taehyung, the bassist, and Seokjin, the keyboardist.

“Alright now guys, good job up there. The crowd went wild for you tonight”, Namjoon, the manager and their good friend, says, appearing beside you as well with his phone in hand. He is always busy, always networking, always socialising. The guys jokingly call him their secret leader because he does all of their social tasks. He always accepts the teasing with an exasperated sigh and a “you’re not wrong you know? You’d be lost without me.”

“Thanks man. We felt pretty pumped up there. Fuck, it feels good to make music with you guys”, Yoongi says, boxing the air in a release of good adrenaline.

“Man, the ad-libs you did during Chained Up were fucking fire man, no lies”, Hoseok praises him.

“Says the right one. You were on fire during Spit. You and Taehyung. Man, your solo was great.”

Taehyung smiles, patting his back, “thanks man. I only followed Seokjin’s cues. You were lit, my man.”

“Man thanks seriously”, Seokjin says and accepts a bottle of water from Namjoon, downing it in one go.

Jimin, the third guitarist and second vocalist, finally comes backstage. He can scream really fucking well. He showed off the skill multiple times tonight, driving the crowd wild. Following Jimin, is Jungkook, smiling drunkenly from the successful night. Outside the crowd is still screaming for them. You can barely even look at him. He is a cheater, you just know that he is.

“Man, what a show”, he comes stumbling, arm falling around your shoulder. “Hey baby. Did you like the show?” he lulls, leaning so he could kiss your lips. He is sweating a lot, which you normally don’t mind but tonight it annoys you.

“You’re sweaty”, you say coldly, taking a step back.

Jungkook brushes off the embarrassment with a confused laugh and his eyes exchanging confused looks with the others. They aren’t any wiser.

“Did you all hear how I screamed during Save Me tonight?” Jimin tries to change topic. The others gladly take it, continuing to talk about the concert as you make your way to the greenroom. Jungkook tries to hold your hand when no one is looking, but you refuse him.

“What’s wrong?” he whispers.

“Nothing”, you refuse him answer, painting a crease of displeasure between his brows.

The guys get ready and unready in front of you. Of course they don’t get fully naked, but you have seen every single one of them in their underwear before. You are mostly on your phone or doodle in your notebook when they do because you don’t care to see their nude bodies. They are mostly talking about the concert and whether or not they should go for some beers later. You don’t partake in the conversation, sulking like an immature girl. You are aware that you are being immature, but you also can’t stop. Just hearing Jungkook’s voice makes your blood boil tonight. The latter keeps glancing at you with his brows furrowing more and more.

They are already dressed when the security guards come. You loathe this moment.

“Derek, hey man”, Jimin greets him.

“Hey, so uhm, there’s some fans outside who wanna see you.”

The insinuation is clear to everyone and you can’t stand it. Now granted, you like all of them, they are amazing and wonderful people and you are happy when they get a fun night if that is what both parties want clearly. They don’t allow anyone under the age of twenty six because that’s the age where most humans actually know what they want and they also have a clear rule that the people need to be completely sober and clear headed. There are contracts involved, ensuring the safety of both parties so the consenting women knew they wouldn’t be forced to do anything out of their comfort zone. It was an honest deal, still a little weird, but honest and safe, but you hated it nonetheless. Because Jungkook always went with the others. Not for sex because not every fan was here for that. Some just wanted a picture or an autograph and he wanted to make those fans happy and yet you still always dreaded the moment, thinking to yourself “what if tonight is the night he finally has enough of me and goes back to the hotel room with another girl? Will I have to sleep on the streets then? Will he make me watch knowing that it will hurt me?”

You never had such thoughts before, but this tour has been truly making you go crazy.

Tonight, Derek’s arrival made your stomach churn painfully and you almost threw up the enchiladas you ate earlier.

The guys leave the greenroom chatting with each other. You know that Yoongi and Seokjin won’t go home with anyone because that’s not in their comfort zone. They will pose for pictures and thank the fans for their support. There is a fifty-fifty chance that Taehyung might leave with someone, depending on the vibes. Jimin will most definitely leave with someone, no hesitation. Hoseok is only there for pictures unless there is someone his taste (he leaves with someone at most locations, he is just trying to act like he isn’t a fuckboy). Sometimes there are people for Namjoon as well, who he always declines with red cheeks. Jungkook, well, frankly you don’t want to think about him.

He follows the others, laughing and joking. Most are out of the door when he stops and looks back at you.

“Baby?” he queries.

“Mhm”, you hum, not looking up from your phone.

“Wanna come with us? Meet some of our fans?”

“Go and meet them yourself, maybe one of them can Suck It, Lick It, Ride It”, you throw back his own lyrics which he sang to the crowd as his hand was on his clothed crotch.

“Huh?”

You jump to your feet to stomp away, but Jungkook catches your wrist, tugging gently but with strength.

“What’s wrong? Why are you saying that?”

“Let go of me, I don’t wanna be touched.”

“Sorry.” He lets go instantly, studying you intensely. “Talk to me. What’s wrong, baby?”

“JK, you coming or what?” Hoseok asks, sticking his head back into the greenroom.

Jungkook looks at you pleadingly.

“Tch”, you scoff, turning your back to him.

Jungkook’s features tighten in confusion, panic and heartbreak. He forces a smile on it.

“Coming, don’t worry”, he says and leaves with Hoseok after giving you one last look over his shoulder.

Just like you had predicted, the known guys leave with someone while the others only take pictures. You all leave for the hotel room together, sharing cars. Yoongi and Seokjin share the car with you and Jungkook. Namjoon is with you as well, on his phone of course. The others take the other car.

Because of the missing privacy, Jungkook can’t talk to you, destined to sit next to you while you refuse to be touched by him.

You booked rooms on the seventh floor, saying your goodbyes on the hallways before disappearing inside your rooms.

The door closes behind Jungkook.

You slip out of your shoes and then you are already gone from the entrance, fleeing into the living area of the big room.

You sit down in one of the chairs and open the room service menu. You aren’t hungry, but don’t know what else to do.

“Can we finally cut the crap and talk?” Jungkook enters the room.

“Do you want room service?”

“No. I wanna talk to you about what’s bothering you ‘cause something clearly is.”

You lower the menu, glaring at him. He is glaring back with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Nothing’s bothering me.”

He throws his hands in the air and drops them, letting them slap against his thighs as a gesture of complete defeat. It makes a loud sound of impact on the leather pants.

“Very mature of you, seriously”, he says with annoyance in his voice, “I’m taking a shower, maybe you wanna talk about it afterwards.”

You don’t move from your spot during the time he takes to shower, sulking and feeling embarrassed. Jungkook isn’t wrong. You know that being a sulky girl isn’t very grown-up of you to do, but you just can’t help it. What if you speak up and he confirms it? What if he says that it’s just sex, babe? You love him so much, but what if he doesn’t love you in return?

Jungkook, who notices that you haven’t shifted one bit in the chair even after almost forty minutes, stops in his tracks to sigh in defeat.

“What’s the matter? Just talk to me.”

You glance at him. He is only in his towel now, carrying his clothes under his arm. His hair and face are freshly washed, vast of any product or makeup. This is the kind of Jungkook only you get to see. The real, unfiltered human. It should be enough to make your heart see that you are everything he needs, but it’s not.

“Nothing, I don’t know”, you murmur, looking away

“___ please. I know something is wrong, please let us fix it.”

You throw your hands over your face to muffle the sudden sob you want to let out.

Jungkook drops his clothes and hurries to you. He sits down on the chair opposite of you, dragging your hands away.

“Talk to me, my love. What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you homesick?”

You shake your head.

“Is it the rooms we stay in? I know they’re not the most comfortable sometimes and-”

“No, not that.”

“Well, what then baby?” he asks softly, wiping your tears.

“I’m scared.”

“Scared of what? That I’ll overdo it? I promise those days are over. I’m twenty seven now, I learned from-”

“No, the girls.”

“The girls? Why are you scared of girls?” He scoots closer, takes your hands and speaks in a serious voice. “What happened in Jakarta won’t happen again. I promise. We upped the security, so nobody can climb on stage again and try to kiss one of us. I promise I’m gonna stay safe.”

“And loyal too?”

Jungkook is silent. In shock and confusion. Very obviously not in caught panic. He is merely lost for words, trying to make sense of what you just asked him.

“What did you just say?”

“You heard me. How can I know that you’re gonna be loyal?”

“Because I took you on this tour with me.”

“And if you hadn’t?”

“I would have called you each night.”

You search for words, studying his face.

He clicks his tongue and speaks your name as softly as possible, cradling your face, “oh my sweet love, why are you feeling like this all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just…” You sigh in defeat. “I’m just tired of hearing you sing about dominating countless girls when I know I could never give you that. And then they, they scream at your feet as if you were their god with such actual, pure devotion in their eyes. I can’t compete with all of them.”

“But you don’t have to compete with them. I love you and that won’t ever change.”

“I can’t be like them.”

“Good. I’m in love with you, not them.”

A smile hushes over your face. Jungkook smiles back at you, closing the distance to peck your lips. You accept it with a whimper and a tremor.

“Aw baby, don’t cry. I’m here”, he says, hugging you against him.

You hug him back, sniffling into his neck.

“Why are you feeling like this all of a sudden? Was it something I did?” he asks.

“No, it’s just that it’s been a lot, actually, watching you have thousands of girls at your feet each night. And, and then when they come backstage I get so scared. I keep thinking what if tonight is the night he finally has enough of me and goes back to the hotel room with another girl? Will I have to sleep on the streets then? Will he make me watch knowing that it will hurt me? I’ve been feeling so insecure lately and scared that one of them will be more your type than me.”

“No, I’m sorry, my baby. You don’t have to feel this way, I love you and only you.” He gives you a tight squeeze. “Please believe me. I love you so, so much. You’re not in any kind of danger, I mean it. I see these people as fans of our music, nothing more. You’re my everything. Okay?”

“I am?”

“Yes, you are.”

“Thank you for saying that. I love you too.”

“Is that why you were being cold to me? Because you felt too insecure?”

“No, I guess…I’m sorry for being like this. I try not to be, but it’s hard. It’s just that my voice never mattered to others and if I spoke up I was ridiculed.”

“Don’t apologise, baby. I understand. Thank you for talking to me, I know that wasn’t easy.”

“No.” You sniffle, squeezing him. “No, it wasn’t.”

“There, there”, he rubs your head as he talks, “it feels better now though, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, very.”

“For me too. I was really hurt when you ignored me. It makes me really anxious and I would really like it if in the future, you could maybe give me a short notice if you still need time to be ready to talk.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to tell you if I still need time in the future.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry for giving you reasons for doubting my loyalty to you. What do you need me to do in the future?”

“I don’t know. I know the image you guys have is kinda detrimental to your success and I don’t want you to lose the connection you have with your fans. I know they matter to you.”

“Yes, as fans. You matter to me as my partner. I want to make you happy first and foremost.”

“Maybe, I don’t know, maybe you could be cuter with me?”

“Cuter? Then I have an idea. I’ll dedicate at least one song to you each gig. Alright?”

You giggle.

“Yeah, you like that. I like it too, my muffin.”

You nudge him away.

“Don’t call me that.”

He grins boyishly, earning himself another nudge.

“I’m taking a shower, you egg. If you wanna order room service, go ahead”, you tell him and stand up to leave.

“Yes okie. Are you hungry?”

“Not really, but you can eat something.”

Jungkook is lounging on bed when you come outside.

“Did you order something?”

“No, I-”, Jungkook’s words get stuck in his throat.

You wear the towel around your hips, forcing him to do a double take because he definitely didn’t expect the view. With a content sigh, you drop onto the mattress beside him. You aren’t blind to the way his eyes gawk at your tits.

“Like what you see?”

“Bouncy”, he gets out and gulps.

You laugh, “yes, boobs tend to do that with movement.”

“Ah, so pretty”, he closes the distance and buries his nose into your side boob with a cute hum. His tattooed arm is around your waist like this. He kicks his feet happily, humming cutely as he nuzzles your boob.

You snicker, enjoying the attention to the fullest. He lifts his head and grins up at you.

“You know, I was thinking”, he says, tracing your side with his fingertips.

“What were you thinking?”

“We could order room service a little later and I’ll show you my devotion first.”

“Your devotion?” you ask, feeling tingly.

“Mh-hm”, he nods his head, lowering it to your chest afterwards so he could mouth at your tits. He does it softly and very teasingly. “You know me. How I really am, what I really want”, he speaks between his kisses, speeding up your breath with it. His pierced lips brush over your nipple, forcing it to harden and tingle.

“But I feel like you’ve started to forget that”, he whispers, darting the tip of his tongue out to trace your nipple.

You squirm on the sheets. Jungkook ends the slow feast with a gentle suck and then he is already back to feather light kisses all over your chest. He even climbs between your legs for better access, raising your breath to quickened levels.

“Which means, I gotta let you put me back in my place.”

He lifts his head, lips so very close to kiss and sultry eyes getting lost in yours. Your heart is racing like crazy. You are so attracted to him.

“Peg me, my goddess. I’ve been acting out of line, I need to be curbed again.”

“Kook…”

“Please?”

You gulp. He makes puppy eyes at you. His temptation is powerful, you must admit. Pegging him tonight would definitely cure your insecure heart. There is nothing more sensual than being inside him and he looks so, so good taking it. You like to argue that this is when he looks best. The temptation is unbearable, but you can’t give in yet. He has to work a little harder for his reward.

“Yah”, you slap his chest gently, “you can’t just do that to me.”

“Why not?” he chuckles.

“Because you’re being unfair with your techniques. You wanna be pegged? What about me? You think I’ll let you get everything after what you did?”

Jungkook mewls, sagging his shoulders in defeat. You are already playing into it. This is both real, but also meant to rile him up.

“Of course not, I’m sorry. I, I shouldn’t have suggested that”, he says and bows his head, using it as an opportunity to begin licking your breasts again. He places his hands under your armpits, dancing them down your sides and up again.

You close your eyes, melting into the pillow with a slight scoot forwards.

“Can I make it up to you, Mistress?” he asks, mouthing at your right nipple.

“Yeah…”

“Thank you, wow, thank you”, he gets out.

He sucks on your nipple one last time then takes on another journey. He uses his tongue for it, swirling it down the middle of your stomach. You follow it with an arch of your back, sighing his name. You are so addicted to his touch.

“You’re the most beautiful woman”, he rasps, supporting his words with needy kisses all over your lower stomach. You are sensitive there so this is riling you up like crazy.

“Kook, no teasing”, you mewl, thrusting your hips up desperately.

“Mhm.” He fumbles with the towel. “Can I open it?”

“Yeah, quick.”

He chuckles, opening it with a skilled tug. He sits back on his feet as he unravels you, smoothing the towel out on each side of your hips. His eyes are mesmerised by your pussy, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Wow, I’m just…wow.”

You prop your legs up and part them. Jungkook gulps and moans afterwards.

“I can’t believe you’re real”, he whispers.

“I taste good too, you know?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. Oh my Mistress”, he murmurs and lies down on his stomach, arms wrapping around your thighs and fingers digging deep into your softness. He buries himself in your warmth with a needy mewl, instantly beginning to attack your clit with eager sucks and quick licks.

“Oh”, you let out, twitching in surprise. “Woah.” You croak, grabbing his hair to twist it.

Jungkook mewls into you, enjoying the burn on his scalp and the overwhelmed throbbing of your pussy. He knows that he went for it rather aggressively, but he had to. You are doubting his devotion to you. He needs to show you that he starves whenever he isn’t between your legs. You need to know that your taste is all he ever wants.

“Holy fuck, you’re being - ah - shit, Kook fuck ah, you’re being ah rather, ah, rather aggressive, mhhhm, wouldn’t you say-aah?” You somehow get out, writhing under his mouth.

He nods his head and moans his words against you. “All I want is you. I was so starved.” His tongue glides through your folds, filling your walls for a change. Not that your clit is getting a break. He uses his pretty nose for it, sinking into your sweetened scent as he grinds his nose into your clit while he tongue fucks you quickly.

You growl deeply and roll your eyes back sensually, arching your back. Your legs fall open weakly, now held only by Jungkook's strong arms and his needy hands.

“You’re insane, holy fuck.”

Jungkook hums and breaks away sloppily. He talks as he kisses your pussy. “Yeah, insane for you. My fucking goddess, my everything, my life. Fuck, I want you.” He takes your clit between his messy lips and uses his skilled tongue on it.

“Oh god, stay there ah!”

Jungkook mewls in understanding, gazing up at you with darkened yet devoted eyes. You are so loud. Your chest is lifting and rising quickly. Fuck, your tits are so sexy. Jungkook slides his right hand from your thigh to cradle your tit instead. It takes him a second of fumbling and then he has your nipple between his fingers, rolling and massaging it just how you like it.

“Kook, baby”, you keen, holding his hand and twisting his hair at the same time. You don’t stop him, you just want to hold so much of him. He makes you feel so good and you need to make sure this is real.

Jungkook purrs into you, closing his eyes sensually. You are writhing so happily, moaning because of him. Are the others hearing you? Are they hearing that he makes you feel good because he is yours? A part of him hopes that they can. Especially the women going back to the hotel with his friends. He furrows his brows, suddenly feeling angry at them. How dare they make his woman feel insecure. Hopefully they hear how good you feel right now, hopefully they get the fucking message that Jungkook does all of this for you.

“Slow down, ah, Kook slow down you’re being so, ah fuck, so aggressive”, your squeaks rip him back to reality. He has been pressing his mouth into your pussy as tightly as possible, almost licking your clit raw. Fuck, he was so angry at the world that he was too rough with you.

He whimpers, lifting his mouth, “I’m sorry. Fuck, I can’t exist without you, I’m sorry I was…I just love you so much”, he lulls, kissing your clit as apology.

“You’re such a munch, ah fuuuuck”, you sigh, opening your legs even further. You guide his hand to your other nipple for a change because even that he rubbed raw. Jungkook switches arms for it quickly, moaning when you hold his new hand as well. His right hand he guides down to your pussy, burying his two longest digits in your dripping warmth.

“Jungkook!” you yelp, thrusting your hips.

“Yours. I’m yours”, he mewls, connecting his puffy lips with your clit so he can lick you again. Up and down, up and down, up and down. You like this the most, walls throbbing around his digits as he uses them to stimulate you from the other side as well. You clench down on him, making it feel so much better for you.

“I can’t hold back anymore.”

Jungkook mewls and opens his eyes. He needs to watch you break apart. First you throw your head to the side and lift your brows. Then his name falls off your tongue and your mouth stays open. Next a loud moan and your back lifting off the sheets. Finally the rhythmic throbbing begins and Jungkook knows that he has you orgasming on his tongue and fingers.

He whimpers into you, feeling high and trying to do the best job at keeping the touches perfect for you.

“Wow, holy fuck”, you come down with a curse, flinching when he overstimulates you with needy licks. You tug on his hair. “No more, puppy.”

Jungkook mewls sadly but obeys. He slips his fingers out and drops your nipple, placing both hands on your thighs instead so he could guide them to his lips. He needs more of you. Now that you deny him your sweet cunt, he needs to find relief in the softness of your thighs. He sucks and kisses the tender flesh, listening to your voice as you talk to him.

“You were fucking insane tonight. What the hell?”

You writhe in the aftershocks. Jungkook changes thighs, worshiping it with throaty mewls.

“I can’t tell whether I came with my clit or my g-spot or my fucking nipples. Oh god, Kook.”

He whimpers, humping the mattress. Good. That’s good. He did this to you. It’s all he wanted.

“You’re insane, seriously.”

“I love you, couldn’t help myself”, he lulls and dares to kiss your pussy. Gently.

“Ah”, you gasp and chuckle, burying your hands in his hair to ruffle it, “stop it, you munch.”

Jungkook mewls, shaking his head as he places more kisses on your well eaten pussy. You smell so good after a high. He is delirious between your legs, floating on cloud nine.

But you are sensitive and so you pull him up with a gentle tug to his hair.

“Be a good puppy.”

He finally comes up, letting out a sweet sigh of your name. His lips are glossy from your orgasm, his damp hair sticks to his forehead. He lays himself down over you, gazing at you dreamily.

You brush his hair out of his face, cradling his cheeks. He mewls, lowering his eyes droopily as he leans into your touch.

“This was amazing, thank you.”

He shakes his head, “thank you for letting me taste you, Mistress.”

“Gosh you sweetie. Wanna have a reward?”

“Yes please”, he whimpers, eyes glassy in devotion.

“I knew you would like that. Get ready for me, yeah?”

“I already am, Mistress.”

“What?”

Jungkook breaks out of your touch to turn his back to you. He is kneeling between your legs, lowering himself to his elbows so his back is arched and his butt lifted into the air. The towel is still covering him.

“What do you mean? Are you wearing a plug?” you ask, sitting up to tug the towel from him. It falls on the sheets, revealing his sweet bubble butt to you and the big plug lodged right between his cheeks.

“Jungkook, what the hell?” you get out, gawking with parted lips and widened eyes.

He whimpers cutely, wiggling his hips. You still them with a hungry grip, making him moan just for you. He looks over his shoulder at you, carrying nothing but submission in his pretty eyes.

“I put it in before the concert. I planned on asking for your strap after the show, but then we had this fight and I gave up on it.”

“Holy fuck….”

“I’m yours for life, Mistress.”

Your eyes meet. He is honest. You gulp, squeezing his hips as your eyes switch back to the plug. It is black in colour and has a round base. The silicon is made of the highest quality, sitting so perfectly in his hole.

“You performed with it in?” you ask, voice croaky and frail because he has you so weak.

“Yeah. It was so difficult sometimes. I kept thinking of you and trying not to get hard.”

“Holy fuck and I was being fucking jealous…”

“It’s okay, Mistress. I was yours all the time.”

“Holy shit”, you whisper, soaking the towel with your excitement. “I can’t believe you held a concert plugged up. This is so hot, I can’t process it.”

“Just for you, Mistress.”

“Kook, wow. And when we talked?”

“No, it wasn’t in.”

“Did you take it out in the shower?”

“Yeah. I hid it in my clothes but then, then we made up again and I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry Mistress, I put it back in.”

He mewls and sticks his ass closer to you, revealing more of it. He is such a natural at arching his back. Holy fuck, you are dripping like as a fucking river.

“Please, can you be inside me? Please, I need you inside me, please”, he begs.

“Fuck, you’re so hot”, you get out, giving his buttocks a spank each.

He flinches both times, moaning sweetly and fingers twisting the sheets. The impact was just harsh enough that his skin reddens a little where you struck him. Not much, it is but a cute little flush.

“You’re blushing now, puppy”, you tease him, rubbing the tender spots.

Jungkook curses under his breath, burying his face in the sheets with a sensual roll of his eyes.

“Hm, cute”, you smile, giving his tailbone a kiss before straightening up. “Stay like this for me, okay?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

You get everything you need to make him yours, putting it on next to the bed. Tonight isn’t the first night you peg Jungkook on this tour or in general for that matter. Anal sex is quite the regular thing between you and him and tonight it feels especially hot.

To think that he performed plugged up. You might need to rearrange his guts for it. You place the lube bottle in the sheets and climb back onto bed behind him, running your palms along his butt. Jungkook’s breath quickens, he squirms a little. You know that he is so, so excited right now.

“Mhm, you’re tempting me being like this, you know?”

He mewls, arching his back.

“So pretty. Makes me wanna pound you like we’re two fucking dogs in heat.”

He moans, heavy cock twitching between his meaty thighs and hole moving the plug needily. It gets him off like crazy when you talk rough with him.

“You liked that, didn’t you?”

He nods his head vigorously, giving you a sweet cute moan.

“Of course you did. It’s a shame that I don’t want this.”

“Huh?” he peeks at you pleadingly but gulps when he sees the dirty smirk you are sporting.

“Get on your back, puppy. Now.”

Jungkook obeys as quickly as his wobbly knees allow him. He flips right where he is, head facing the foot end of the bed and feet the pillows.

“That’s it”, you rasp, lying yourself down over him with your hands on each side of his head.

He gulps, gazing at you in devotion. He reaches up and grasps your wrists, arching his back just for you. His dark hair is ruffled on the white sheets.

“That’s what I want. I wanna look at your pretty face as I make you mine.”

“Mistress…”

“Yeah, you like that too, don’t you?”

“So much”, he whimpers, nodding his head vigorously. He lets out a little sob, “please I’m so horny, Mistress.”

“Of course you are. You can sing about being a girl’s Master all you want, but that’s not you, is it? You don’t get off to that, do you?”

“No, Mistress”, he shakes his head, pouting in desperation, “no, I’m Mistress’ puppy. You, you get me off.”

“Yes, I do. You’re mine. Mine to form and command and own.”

He moans, thrusting his hips up which results in your strap to rub against his cock. He whimpers and does it again.

You glance down and chuckle.

“Would you look at that”, you sit up, kneeling with his legs slung around your thighs. You pick up his cock and yours, squeezing them together in a sensual handjob.

“Holy fuck”, Jungkook croaks and rolls his eyes back, head digging into the sheets and arms reaching high above it to twist the sheets. He arches his back, toes curling on the sheets and cock throbbing against yours. The power you have over him is so obvious to you and it’s getting you off like nothing else. He might have thousands of girls screaming at his feet, he might be singing for them but in your hands, he is turning into a pretty puppy with just the first touch. Only you get to make his body move like that. Only you get to make his face pull this expression. And only you get to make him sing in such ways.

“That’s what I mean. That’s the fucking view I want, puppy. You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Yourssss”, Jungkook mewls, dragging out the word in a sweet moan as his body writhes on the sheets against his will. Because when he is in your hands he has no own will, no own thoughts. You control him, everything he does, every movement his body makes.

“Mhhm mine, all mine”, you purr, looking at your cocks so close together.

The dildo you have strapped into the harness is translucent because there is something incredibly arousing about seeing it inside Jungkook. It makes his hole look so pretty. It also looks very pretty against his cock.

You open the lube bottle with your other hand and tilt it over your cocks to squirt a good amount down on them. Jungkook reacts in a mewl of your name and his cock throbbing against yours.

“Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck”, he curses repeatedly under his breath, lost in the frotting with closed eyes and an agape mouth. His throat looks so sexy like this.

You spread the lube on your cocks, doing a good job with it. You even break them apart for a bit to jerk them off with one hand each. Jungkook kicks the sheets, voice cracking in the back of his throat.

“Stay still, puppy.”

“I’m sensitive”, he mewls, kicking again despite trying not to.

“I know you are. You always are. Just try for me, okay?”

“Oh god”, he whispers, following it up with a desperate keen. He tenses his thighs, forcing his legs to stay still as best as possible. His abs rifle as well, trying so hard to keep his hips from squirming.

“There we go. Good puppy”, you praise and press your cocks together again. You wrap both hands around them, using them to pump you from the bases all the way to the tips.

“A-a-ah”, Jungkook lets out loudly, squirming instantly.

“Puppy”, you warn in a laugh.

“I’m sorry I- oh!” he sits up as best as possible and grabs your hands tightly.

“Hm?”

“Stop, holy fu- wait please. Let go.”

You let him pull you away, gawking at his face so you wouldn’t miss the grimace of agony he pulls. He frowns, gritting his teeth and curling his lips back. He looks so angry like this, but you know better. He was one second away from orgasming.

“What’s the matter?” you feign your ignorance.

“Close, fuck”, he growls and pushes your hands to your sides, so he can cradle your face instead. He kisses the first spot his lips touch, breathing all over your face. “___ oh my god.”

You chuckle softly, caressing his waist. You can feel how heavily he breathes.

“Why didn’t you let go?”

“I can’t. Not yet. If I let go, I get too tight and…”

“And you can’t get tight yet. Oh puppy, you’re such a good boy. Wanna stay loose for Mistress, mhm?”

“Yeah”, he mouths at your nose. “So loose. Oh god Mistress, please can you be inside me?”

“You’re so perfect. Lie down again, okay?”

Jungkook follows your instructions. You touch his thighs and he is already propping his legs up to give you easier access.

“Very good.”

You turn away for a second to grab a pillow, turning back to Jungkook already having lifted his butt.

“Look at you. You’re so obedient tonight.”

“I’m always obedient.”

You laugh, “no, sometimes you’re being a little brat.”

“That’s only when the concert was really fun. I’m too hyper afterwards.”

“Yeah, I noticed this too. You’re an egg, you know?”

He huffs out air, “why do you get to call me egg, but I can’t call you muffin?”

You smile and place yourself atop of him, lowering yourself to your elbows to brush your lips against his’.

“Because I say so.”

“Holy fuck, please kiss me” he breathes, mesmerised beyond saving.

“Mhm, soon”, you tease and straighten up again.

You run your palms down the inside of his thighs, calling his attention to your touch.

“Are you comfortable like this?”

“Yeah, really.”

You brush your hands past his cock, speeding up his breath because he knows what will come next. You trace the plug, meeting his eyes.

“Relax for me.”

He exhales shakily, nodding his head.

“There we go. So good.”

You pull the plug out slowly, making him moan with a throbbing cock. You moan with him, almost drooling at the view. The plug is huge. At least four inches in length and with a diameter as girthy as your strap. His hole barely wants to give it up, stretching around it as you free him from it.

“Holy fuck, you walked around with this inside?”

“Yes, oh god Mistress oh god, oh god.”

“This is so sexy. Fuck…Kook…you’re so sexy.”

The plug slips out, forcing his hole to squeeze out hot lube. Thankfully you laid out a towel under his butt because he is already making a mess.

“I hate this, oh god I wanna be filled up”, Jungkook mewls, squirming in agony.

“Soon, puppy.”

You place the plug aside and spread new lube in your palm to cover your cock with it. The excess you spread on his lose hole.

Jungkook calms down at the touch but only because it means that he will get your cock soon. He glances at you as best as the position allows.

You smile at him, scooting closer. It happens naturally that he drapes his legs over yours so your thighs were under his propped up legs and you could be so much closer. Your skins are melted together like this, sharing warmth. It feels so good to know that only you get to experience his body heat this way.

“Are you ready?”

“So ready, oh god.”

“Take a deep breath in for me.”

He obeys your command.

“Good, hold it in for three…” you guide your cock to his hole, “..two…” you touch his hole with your tip, “...one, release”, you push inside.

Jungkook release the breath in a squeaky moan, fingers gripping your thighs instantly and head rolling to the side. You stop with his rim around your tip.

“Look at me.”

He obeys.

“There we go. Keep looking at me as I slip it in. I wanna see how handsome you look.”

You move again, pushing your cock further into him. It is so easy to fill him. There is no resistance, just utter willingness to take you.

Jungkook lets out one sound - one breathy, beautiful sound - and then one tear spills from each of his eyes, running down his temples.

“Hey, are you okay? Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head, furrowing his brows as he croaks his words.

“Just love you so much.”

“Oh.” You bottom out. “I love you too.”

“___ oh god” he chokes out and rolls his eyes back, squeezing them shut. He spills new tears like this, dimpling your thighs from how needily he holds you.

“Try to breathe, okay?”

He nods his head, throwing it back a moment later when you begin rolling your hips into him. He moans your name with no hesitation, arching his back as if it was the best feeling he ever experienced.

“Is this good for you?”

“It’s the best I ever felt, oh god.”

“Shit, my stomach’s so tingly because of you. You say the hottest shit.”

“Keep moving please, oh…oh!”

His hole moves around your cock. He is so flushed on his rim and so pink inside. You see both. Just as you see his cock twitch each time you bottom out. He is trembling so much, moaning so loudly that you want to keep moving just so he doesn’t stop. Is he loud enough that the others hear him? Do the fans hear him? Is it finally enough to show them that he is yours and only yours? Parts of you hope that they can hear him moan on your strap.

You roll your hips into him, burying your cock deep in his dripping walls. You stay there, writing your name. Jungkook’s moans rise in pitch, he arches his back and curses against his will.

“Am I hitting it, mhm?”

He nods his head vigorously, leaving nail marks on your skin.

“Yeah? Right there?”

You place the flat of your palm on his lower stomach and press down. Your cock hits your palm through his stomach. Jungkook wails up, reaching up to press his hands into his eyes and twist his hair at the same time. His sculpted arms are flexed like this. The noises he makes are like music to your ears.

“Right there, I know. I can feel myself inside you, puppy. You’re so filled up with me.”

You don’t expect Jungkook to answer you. His helpless, drugged out noises are everything you need. He is such a good singer, so talented and perfect but he sounds best when you make him moan. The range he shows during such moments is impressive. How can go from deep growls to the highest squeaks and he never sounds off. Honestly, you could get off just listening to him. You really could.

“Right there, good puppy. You’re taking me so well.”

You draw circles with your palm as you fuck yourself into him. You need him stimulated from as many angles as possible. You need him to feel stuffed and feel every fucking one of your long, drawn out thrusts. You aren’t fucking him right now, you are making sweet possessive love to him. You need every second to feel like endless ecstasy to him.

And oh how it does. How you mess him up. How weak he is in your hands.

You can feel it in his stomach first then watch it in his face.

“Is this good, mhm?” you taunt.

“I have to cum.”

“Don’t let me stop you.”

Jungkook sobs your name, pulling his own hair back as he breaks around your strap. He becomes restless, but you push him down with your hand on his tensing stomach.

“There we go. Let that pressure go, such a good puppy. Cumming so good with your ass”, you talk him through it, watching in fucking obsession.

You are making him cum without touching his cock. He needed to have your strap so badly that he can orgasm just from it. Oh you are going to make him scream once he calmed down.

You give him a few moments to catch his breath after his high, allowing his hole to relax around you.

“How was that?”

Jungkook squeaks and mewls weakly, nodding his head.

Knowing he is too ruined to see, you spread more lube on your cock then finally lay yourself atop of him.

One hard thrust is all it takes. Jungkook rips his eyes open, taking it with a squeal and his brown eyes so big.

“You’re not done. Hear me?” You rasp, thrusting into him deeply and harshly.

“___!” He yelps, grabbing your shoulders.

Your eyes are darkened and widened in craze, pinning him down until he feels small and tiny. His hole is throbbing, his insides are so sensitive. Jungkook’s toes curl against his will, he hears his own pulse in his head. This is so overstimulating and he can’t escape it.

Another deep thrust forces him to slip closer to the edge. You chase him, using the momentum to drill your cock into him until his ass connects with your thighs in a loud slap. His back bends, his feet fly into the air and collide with your lower back.

“Yeah, that’s it. Wrap your legs around me”, encourage him in a growl, twisting the sheets beside his head. His weakened fingers fall from your shoulders, grabbing his own hair again as he cries under you.

“Mhm look at your arms like this, so fucking sexy”, you rasp, licking along his biceps before you end it with a deep thrust. The kind which shakes him to his very core and drags an ecstatic moan from his tongue.

You lick his other arm as well, rewarding his very presence with another thrust. Jungkook shakes under you, stomach convulsing and hole desperately trying to push you out. Not that he wants you out. It happens against his will. You fuck him so good that his body reacts by trying to push. It brings the most sensitive parts to the surface. The parts which are soft and tender and so easily stimulated. Jungkook keeps switching between clenching and pushing, having no control over it as you have him under your spell.

All he can do is make whatever kind of noises you fuck out of him and pray that he will survive this night. You are so assertive in your thrusts, so possessive in the way you claim him. Granted, you always get a little possessive when you peg him, but tonight it is the main motivator for each of your skilled thrusts and it’s ruining him.

“You’re mine. Holy shit, you’re mine.”

Jungkook wants to say it back, but he can’t. He rarely loses his ability to speak, but he has no words left tonight. You never felt like this before. You never fucked with such force, such depth and craze. And he never felt so frail before. He is so much stronger than you and yet he can’t use any of it right now. His legs tremble around your waist against his will, his arms feel like useless noodles as you lick and bite them repeatedly and his torso is on fire from the constant pleasure you shoot up his body.

He is yours. Don’t be mistaken. He is yours and yours and yours. He just can’t say back. He physically can’t talk.

“All of this is mine. Shit puppy, I love you like fucking crazy. I need help.”

You bite his biceps especially hard, making him sob and drop his arms weakly. His flesh slips from your teeth, his messy face comes into your view. He looks ruined. Teary, snotty, sweaty and flushed. You lower yourself to your elbows and cradle his face, resting your forehead against his’ while your hips chase his depths.

“All mine. For life”, you whisper.

“You’re making me cum”, he sobs, orgasming on your length a second later. He reaches for your face and cries, whimpering your name like his last call for saving. But there is no saving him from the kind of high you give him. He has to get through it even if it feels so good that he loses himself to it. Even if it is so hot that his body is burning. Even if it digs so deep that he actually feels every single nerve in his body make sense of it.

And because you are you, you make it even better by picking up his cock and jerking it off quickly.

Jungkook screams, fleeing you until his head falls over the edge and tangles in the air. You chase him, drilling his throbbing hole in quick rolls of your hips while your hand milks his cock.

“Give me everything, puppy. Every single drop.”

“I have to pee! Please too much! Too much. I’ll piss myself, please!”

“Don’t hold back. Let it happen, puppy. Fucking piss yourself for me.”

You twist your hand around his cockhead and fuck his swollen prostate, sealing his fate. The stimulation is too much, the pleasure too big. Jungkook gets set off one last time, finally orgasming with his cock. He shoots a huge load of creamy cum at first, covering his own torso and parts of the sheets. Then it happens just as he had said. He spurts sweet pee everywhere, crying like a pathetic boy as you help him get reborn.

You climax like this with him, spilling tears from the beautiful view in front of you. You own him to the point where you control his bodily functions. He pisses himself for you and screams your name as he does. This is like heroin to you.

Jungkook tightens up painfully after his high. He reaches for you with one hand, using the other to hit the mattress in his safety gesture.

You let go of him instantly, stilling your hips.

“Out please out.”

“I am. Relax and breathe. Breathe.”

You slip out of his painfully tight hole, soothing it afterwards with soft rubs.

“Breathe baby, it’s already done.”

“Holy fuck, oh god”, he croaks and then the next moments are filled with sounds of you and him catching your breaths.

You know that he needs this and you need it too. You can’t stop looking at him and the puddle he left on his own torso. His own cum mixes with it. His sweat does too. He did this for you. Because you told him to. You really don’t have to worry, do you?

Jungkook comes back to you, trying to sit up.

“Ah, everything hurts”, he gives up, head still tangling over the edge.

“Wait. I’ll wipe you down and then help.”

He lets you clean him.

“Wrap your arms around me.”

He obeys, giggling in surprise when you tug him up moments later. Like this, you and he are facing each other, legs tangled together and bodies so close. You cradle his neck and rub his upper back, gazing into his beautiful eyes.

He has his fingers in your hair as deeply as possible, eyes lost in yours.

“I love you”, you whisper.

“I love you too”, he breathes and spills tears.

You wipe them instantly, “don’t cry.”

“I’m happy. You made me feel so good.”

“Yeah? It felt so good for me too. Oh Kookie”, you cradle his cheeks, resting your forehead against his’, “you peed yourself for me.”

“I would do it again. It’d do anything for you.” He hugs you, face hidden in the safe crook of your neck. “I never experienced something like this before. Not with anyone. I can’t believe this happened to me. Thank you, ___. It felt so good, you have no idea.”

“Mmh no I think I’m getting an idea.”

“You do?”

“You’re making me squirt regularly, remember?”

He snickers, nodding his head.

“I know how you felt.” You hug him tighter. “I’m so glad you felt this way. Shit baby, I feel so giddy. This was so perfect for me.”

“Yes, it was perfect. Thank you for being like this. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He nuzzles and sighs. There is no more bad blood between you and him. You love him and he loves you, it is finally clear to both of you again. This is all that you needed tonight. Oh, how wonderful it is to be together.

“So, about room service. I was thinking. We could order two things from the menu each and then share it. So we get to try lots of food.”

“I get that the pegging made you hungry?”

“Mhm, you basically fucked a new stomach into me. I gotta fill it.”

You laugh loudly, breaking away to look at him.

“It’s stuff like that which makes you an egg. You say the weirdest stuff. Only an egg can do that.”

He laughs.

“Well, only muffins complain about this which makes you The Muffin of all the muffins.”

“Oh Kook, you cutie. I’m so happy with you”, you giggle, pulling him back into the hug. One which he falls into gladly and with a fluttering heart. “Don’t ever break my heart. Hear me?” you say, plead even.

“I wouldn’t even dream of it. Your heart is safe with me. Actually, I’ll build it its own cozy home and make sure it’s always taken care of. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. If your heart was a flower, I would water it each day and give it sunlight so it won’t ever have to wither away.”

You melt with him, spilling tears on his naked shoulder.

“I love you, Jeon Jungkook.”

“I love you too, ___.”

871 notes · View notes

wildestdreamsblog · 3 months ago

Text

Latibule Season 2: VIII

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which he lost his latibule.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: We actually made it to the last chapter???? I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did!

Masterlist, Latibule 2.VII

“Are you not going to stop them?” You asked in exasperation at the extremely relaxed Kim Seokjin despite the violence you knew was occurring several floors down, or also known as Yoongi’s torture chamber as per Taehyung.

He was staring down at his phone, lounging on the sofa while browsing through expensive baby clothes you knew your son would just grow out of in a few months.

“Does baby Yoongi like pink? I think he’d look dashing and adorable in this,” he asked nonchalantly as he showed you his phone. Meanwhile, you only gave him a blank look. “Ah. Right. I forgot you’re almost a 100% blind. My bad.”

You groaned at the unmovable man in front of you. As soon as Namjoon declared the two of you married, Yoongi softly asked you to take the baby from Hoseok and before you knew it, he punched the aforementioned man too hard that blood trickled down his busted lips. You knew Hoseok was insane, you just didn’t know he was insane enough to laugh at Yoongi while he was dragged down the basement. Namjoon was sighing as he followed them down, together with Jungkook and Jimin.

On the other hand, Kim Taehyung opted to stay here because he claimed that he would only be bored there. He was just sat there on the sofa, intently watching a documentary on poverty. His gaze never wavered from the face of the journalist. You supposed her voice was strong and her way of telling the story was both compelling and evocative.

“What about you, Taehyung? Shouldn’t you stop them?” you implored as you grasp his surprisingly hard arm.

Taehyung didn’t even tear his eyes off the journalist. He pouted as he shook his head. “No, noona. Sorry. I’m busy watching my future-”

“Future what, Taehyung!?” Seokjin suddenly quipped up, his eyes sending daggers of suspicions at the younger man’s direction.

Taehyung blinked owlishly as he turned to his hyung. “Hmm. I haven’t gotten to the part yet. I just know she’ll be in my future.”

“I cannot emphasize this enough, Taetae. But we absolutely do not need another Yoongi in this family who ran rampant when he lost her-” Seokjin said as he pointed at you.

“Then do we need another Namjoon hyung?” he asked innocently.

“You mean that lunatic who relocated his secretary’s ex-boyfriend to the afterlife and claimed their child as his own? No!”

Taehyung nodded thoughtfully, “What about another you, hyung? You know, someone who sabotaged doctor noona’s transfer to other hospitals but still ended up losing her after being together for several months who also moved her to his house one week in dating and now cannot find her and is desperate enough to-”

“Anyway!” Seokjin cut him off before sighing so deep you thought he lived three lifetimes and was already tired of it. “Don’t worry about Hoseok. That bastard is an idiot, but he is also intelligent as fuck. He will come out of it alive. Yoongi just has to make him bleed.”

“But what if he kills him?”

“Then he doesn’t deserve to be a Bangtan if he can’t come out of that alive.”

“Come on, fucker, also known as Satan’s competitor to the throne, is that all you got?” Hoseok asked amidst the busted lips and beaten and bloodied body of his.

Yoongi was not fairing any better. He was just as bruised as Hoseok but the devil didn’t even care. He was smirking even as he got hit by Hoseok, and even laughing loudly as he hit him back.

“He really is crazy,” Namjoon commented as they watched the two beat each other to death. “No. They are both insane.”

“At this rate, they’re going to end up both dead,” he added when a new batch of blood drops on the floor.

Jungkook watched from where he was standing, his eyes following the pair’s movements. Sure, they were both doing this to inflict pain to each other, yet he noticed something peculiar. All of Yoongi’s attacks was to end Hoseok. On the other hand, that man was attacking to just to inflict pain on him. Interesting.

“Shouldn’t we stop them? They’ve been going at it for a while…” Jimin brought up in concern, biting his lower lip. This was a thing that he always did when he was anxious, a habit he never outgrew.

“I should stop th-” Namjoon was about to step forward when Jungkook spoke.

“Let them, hyung.”

“Jungkook!”

The aforementioned man looked at them with his doe eyes. “What? Hoseok hyung deserves to hit Yoongi hyung just as much as he deserves to hit Hoseok hyung.”

“What the fuck is that logic, Jungkook?!” Jimin asked in exasperation as he turned to the youngest.

“Well, Yoongi killed noona-”

The aforementioned man pushed the bloodied Hoseok down to the ground, their breathings hard as he stared down at the Hoseok. “This was the reason?”

Hoseok spat down the blood to the ground before he wiped the side of his mouth. He was now sneering up at Yoongi. “What else would it be, fucker? You killed the only person I love! You ended her when you knew doing so would end me as well! I thought you were my brother! I treated you like one!”

Yoongi scoffed up, his eyes clenched shut. “You fucking idiot,” he whispered. “She was our sister. Why would I fucking kill her?”

“Stop fucking lying, Yoongi!” he screamed as he stood up, facing the man head on with renewed anger in his eyes. “I saw you that night!”

The thing that was the most peculiar was that despite Hoseok’s blazing anger, Yoongi only now reciprocated it with his cold and calm demeanor. “And what exactly did you see?”

13 years ago

The mansion was in chaos.

Everything was on fire.

The war they waged against Seokjin’s father was not without any casualty. The soldiers took sides; the younger ones sided with the mafia prince, as well as those that wanted a change and those that were fed up with the senseless battles the mafia king was leading them on. On the other hand, the traditional and older mafias that were higher in hierarchy didn’t want the change. Why would they want it when they benefited the most from the current leader?

But they underestimated Kim Seokjin. They underestimated the monster they raised.

And that night, as the mafia prince watched the mansion burned down with a satisfied smile on his face, Hoseok was desperately looking for her. He lost track of her amidst the battle. He knew she could hold her own, having trained alongside the brothers. He didn’t doubt her ability. But damn it, he had a bad feeling about it. And so he braved the fire, he braved the unbearable smoke and went inside the blazing mansion.

He just wished the bad omen he was feeling was nothing.

But alas, it was a wishful thinking. He barged into the main office, desperately calling out her name, just in time to see Yoongi pulled a knife from her shoulder. The squelching sound of blood was sickening, the look on her face as she gasped from the pain was a nightmare. The fire illuminated the scene, and the suffocating smoke was thick, curling through the air, choking every breath with its acrid sting.

“Yoongi hyung?” Hoseok asked with a small voice. What…what happened? Why was Yoongi holding the knife?

Yoongi turned to him slowly, looking like the devil he knew he was, the fire surrounding them made him looked like one. The fire emphasized and illuminated the scar in his eye.

“W-what happened, hyung? Did you hurt her?”

“Hoseok.”

Hoseok turned to her and saw tears slipping down her face. It was the face he loved so much. He loved her so much and now she was dying.

“What did you do?” he asked in disbelief, his feet moving before he could even think of the danger. He was so near her, he could have saved her, but the ceiling gave in.

He would have died had Namjoon decided not to follow him.

He would have followed her had Namjoon not pulled him back just in time.

When he woke up in the hospital, he learned that everyone was safe.

Everyone was okay, except her.

Even the fucker Yoongi who was last seen holding her survived. How could he survive when she didn’t?

There were whispers that she was a spy…but surely, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t kill her over mere whispers, right? They grew up together. There was no way in fucking hell that he killed her over it…right?!

Moreover, there was no way she could betray him. She wouldn’t. Hoseok refused to believe she did.

Because if she could easily betray him, that meant that she never truly loved him. Not like he did.

“You know what I saw.”

“But did you know what you really saw that night, Hobi-ah?”

Jungkook turned to Jimin who was listening just as intently as he was. “What mental gymnastics type of shit is hyung saying?”

He was quiet for a moment, and Jungkook would have believed he wouldn’t answer when he finally did. “In this case, I’d like to believe it’s nothing but the naked truth,” Jimin responded, never taking his eyes off the two men. The way Yoongi pulled back when he heard of Hoseok’s belief was enough to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“I saw you. You pulled the knife from her! She bled in front of you. If you didn’t kill her, why then were you the only one that survived when you were with her?!” At that point, Hoseok’s vein was protruding, his words got louder and louder. They never saw him act that way. They never saw him lose control.

They should have known he only let go when it came to her.

Maybe, he should have done this long ago. Maybe then, he wouldn’t house the decade-old hatred he had been feeling in his heart. Maybe then, they could have the brother he used to be.

“So you tried to kill my angel because of that? You tried to kill her. You tried to kill me. And when that wasn’t enough, you stole the life that should have been mine. You stole my son away from me. You did all those things because of that?”

“And those were still not enough to atone for killing her!”

Yoongi sighed and shook his head. He turned around, walking away from Hoseok and to the chair before he slumped down on it in weariness. His white shirt was bloodied, and no way was it salvageable. His dark hair was disheveled, and the eye that did not house the scar was shut close from the swelling. He regarded Hoseok for a moment as though deep in thought.

“I agree. Those aren’t enough. You should have done more,” he conceded as he leaned back on the chair.

“Hyung!” Jimin protested.

“Why? He’s right. All those things won’t be enough. If I really killed noona knowing full well that she was the center of this moron’s world, then what he did to me was simply not enough. Right? Oh wait…” he trailed off before a smirk graced his busted lips. “Except that I didn’t kill her.”

“That’s enough, hyung! I saw what happened,” Namjoon quipped, wanting nothing but for all of this to have the conclusion it deserved. Everything was in chaos, and the Bangtan itself was in the brink of collapse if this would not be fixed.

“You saw me pulled the knife. You’re a fucking attorney, right, Namjoon-ah? Then answer me this. Is what you saw conclusive enough for you to decisively say that I put the knife in her?”

“You fucker. What the fuck are you saying?” Hoseok asked in disbelief.

“I didn’t kill her, Hobi-ah.”

“You did!”

Yoongi laughed. He laughed for such a long time before he stood up and calmly walked to the door. He was so relaxed as though he wasn’t trying to kill Hoseok mere moments ago, or that he just didn’t drop another perspective from what Hoseok religiously believed in for the past 13 years. He was to the door when he stopped laughing.

“You know what, now that I think about it…I’m not entirely even sure she’s fucking dead.”

The elevator dinged, announcing Yoongi’s presence.

You were sick in worry. It had only been more than two hours since he dragged Hoseok down, and you felt every ticking second of it. No one would tell you anything. The two men with you were completely useless and they couldn’t have been more disinterested even if they tried to. The hatred between Yoongi and Hoseok was more than a decade deep. From what you gathered over the years, Hoseok was retaliating over something that Yoongi committed. And now, Yoongi was retaliating for what Hoseok did to them.

It was a never-ending cycle. You just hoped that it wouldn’t end with either of them dying for it to stop.

The elevator door opened. Min Yoongi was staggering as he walked to where she was. He was using the walls for support, his other hand clutching his stomach.

He was drenched in blood, his immaculate face covered with bruises and wounds. He was obviously hurt, and yet, the sight of you trembling with tears in your eyes was what pained him more.

“Why are you crying, my angel?” Yoongi asked in concern as soon as he reached you, his hand cupping your face gently as he looked down at you with worry in his eyes. “What happened, my love?”

You grasped his hands, feeling the cuts scattered on them. “Y-you need treatment. You-you’re hurt-”

Yoongi pulled you softly to his chest, encircling your crying form to him securely. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being alive,” Yoongi whispered. “For giving me a family. For existing the time as me. For…loving someone as twisted as me.”

But most of all, he wanted to thank her for coming back to him.

At that time, Yoongi wanted to believe that he did the right thing. Removing noona from Hoseok’s life was what was necessary back then. It was the right thing.

But was it really?

He took the fall for noona’s absence. His naïve, younger self surmised that it was better to not say anything, that his silence was enough. He thought everything would go away with enough time, that Hoseok would eventually move on. He couldn’t have been more wrong. He suffered the consequences.

And you… yousuffered the consequences, too.

He was foolish to think that his love for noona was something that would dwindle in time. That love such as Hoseok’s, or rather, his obsession, was not heavy enough to do all this. But now that he had you, he knew better.

Yoongi was wrong.

“Eomma?”

The events of the day had surely exhausted the toddler. Despite the chaos and Seokjin’s annoyance when Yoongi pushed him out of the penthouse after he treated him, he slept soundly. Now that he was awake, his curious eyes observed his surrounding, taking in the unfamiliar place in silence.

“Hi, my love,” you greeted him, reaching for him. His smell calmed you. You hadn’t seen him for what felt like forever. You wanted his life to be better, for calm to reign for the rest of his life. And yet, you were back to where you started.

All those bad thoughts vanished when he wrapped his little arms around you. “Eomma!” he squealed excitedly. He was giggling as he hugged you when the bedroom door opened.

Yoongi was freshly showered and sported a black cotton shirt and comfortable pants. His hair was damped. He was a confident person, yet when his son turned to look at him, he seemed to not know what to do.

"Eomma, who?" Your son asked, his little lips pouting as he glanced up at you, wide-eyed and full of curiosity. He looked so much like Yoongi when he was younger—his expression, the innocence in his gaze, even the way he furrowed his brow when he didn’t understand something.

You were quiet for a moment until you extended your hand to Suga. It was all he needed. He reached for your hand and sat beside you in the bed. His pale skin was just like his son’s. He wanted to hug the little boy, but he knew he was nothing but a stranger to him.

“That’s appa,” you answered with a smile. Your son tilted his head to the side, the way he always did when he was thinking hard, his brows knitting together in the sweetest frown. Yoongi’s heart clenched at the sight. His son.

"Yoongi, meet Jiwon," you said gently, your voice barely above a whisper. You said his name with such tenderness, as if bringing him closer to Yoongi with just the sound of it.

“Jiwon,” he muttered, saying his son’s name for the first time. “Min Jiwon.”

The little boy blinked, still not fully understanding the significance of the man beside him. He regarded Yoongi for a long moment, brow furrowing again, but then a soft smile appeared on his face, the kind of smile only a child could give—pure and uncomplicated.

“Owwie?” Your son asked, pointing at the bruise on Yoongi’s face, his voice filled with concern. The small frown still creased his forehead, a mix of innocence and empathy as he tried to make sense of the man’s injury.

Yoongi smiled, holding the small hand that was pointing at his face.

His son.

He was finally holding his son.

“Not anymore, my son.”

“Owkay I kiss to heal!” he declared earnestly, his face brightening with the simplicity of his gesture, his little lips pressing gently against the wound.

Yoongi froze for a moment, his breath catching in his chest. He couldn’t believe it—this tiny child, this little person who had never known him, was offering him a piece of innocence and love that he didn’t deserve. He had always imagined this moment, but he never could have predicted how much it would pierce through him.

Yoongi blinked, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. He smiled, though the emotions swirled inside him, raw and unspoken. "Thank you, my son," he whispered softly, his voice barely above a murmur.

“Thank you, my wife,” Yoongi looked at you with tenderness in his eyes.

You gave him more than he deserved. You gave him a family.

Yoongi’s eyes snapped open.

It was late, much later than Yoongi had realized. The stillness of the night wrapped around him, the only sound being the steady breathing of his family beside him. He could hear the soft inhale and exhale of your chest, and Jiwon’s tiny, rhythmic breaths between you and him in the bed. It was the first night he had spent with his family, the first night he could legally say that his angel was now lawfully his. A feeling of warmth spread through him as he watched you both sleep soundly, Jiwon nestled safely in the crook of his arm.

It should have been peaceful, this night. It should have been perfect.

But Yoongi’s instincts were screaming at him. A sudden prickle of unease skittered down his spine. Something was wrong. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

He smelled danger.

Every muscle in his body tensed. He needed to divert the threat, to keep you both safe, no matter the cost. His training kicked in, adrenaline flooding his veins as he silently slid out of bed. Every movement was practiced, swift, calculated. He stepped lightly on the cold floor, his feet making no sound as he crept toward the door.

He could hear it now—three sets of footsteps. Slow, deliberate. They were methodical, careful, but not quiet enough.

Yoongi’s lips curled into a barely perceptible sneer as he made his way to the door. He slipped out into the hallway, his footsteps just as silent. His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness. It was no different than the shadows of his past—quiet, lurking, hiding danger.

He knew the layout of this place better than anyone else. He had memorized every corner, every blind spot. Crouching down behind the table in the hallway, his hand grazed the knife he had hidden there, the cold steel meeting his palm like a promise.

They had no idea who they were dealing with.

Yoongi exhaled slowly, his heart pounding but steady. His grip tightened around the knife, eyes trained on the shadows at the far end of the hallway. They were still a few steps away, but he knew time wasn’t on his side.

Three men?

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, mixed with a bitter, cynical edge. Who was this asshole who sent only three men to eliminate him? Seriously? Was that supposed to intimidate him? It almost felt like an insult.

The first man rounded the corner, his shadow barely visible in the dim moonlight streaming through the window. Yoongi’s fingers flexed around the knife’s hilt, his breath steady. The man was just a few feet away, and Yoongi knew he couldn’t hesitate.

With a swift motion, Yoongi darted from his hiding place, slamming the knife into the man’s side before he even had a chance to react. The man crumpled to the floor, gasping as Yoongi pulled the knife free with a quiet flick of his wrist. Blood stained the floor, but Yoongi didn’t even flinch.

One down.

The second man was already drawing his weapon, but Yoongi anticipated his movements, lunging forward with lethal precision, using the table as leverage to knock him off balance. The sound of the man’s body hitting the floor echoed in the silent house, and Yoongi was already on top of him, pressing his knee into the man’s chest and twisting his wrist until the gun slipped from his grasp.

Two down.

The last man was quicker, his eyes darting frantically between Yoongi and his fallen comrades. But he was already too late. Yoongi’s hand reached for the gun in his waistband, bringing it up in a single fluid motion as the man tried to raise his own. Yoongi fired once, twice, the shots ringing out sharply in the quiet night. The man’s body jerked with each bullet, before he collapsed, lifeless.

Three down.

Yoongi stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, his gaze scanning the hallway. It was over. But the danger wasn’t gone—not yet. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, then slipped the gun back into his holster. His heart was pounding, but his movements were calm as he wiped the knife clean with a cloth.

Quietly, he fished the phone from his pocket and mindlessly took a picture of the scene and sent it to their group chat, prompting for an emergency meeting at the Bangtan’s headquarters. Next thing he did was dialed for Jimin. He knew what to do.

The first to step through the door was Park Jimin, his presence commanding, his eyes scanning the scene with practiced precision. He barely glanced at the bodies on the floor before his gaze locked onto Yoongi, a silent understanding passing between them. Behind Jimin, the rest of the crew filed in—armed, alert, ready to take action. The air thickened with the weight of their presence. Yoongi knew the drill. The storm was only just beginning.

The troop saluted at him and they were quick to assess the situation, recording and preserving the evidence of the crime. They couldn’t allow this to slide, not when the chief of police, Min Yoongi, had been targeted. The idea of him being a victim? Unthinkable.

Jimin gracefully walked to where he was standing. Yoongi stood apart from the chaos, a cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. He exhaled slowly, the smoke curling around his face like a shield. His anger was palpable—his body rigid, his eyes narrowing as the team moved around him. He was barely holding onto the thin thread of sanity that had kept him grounded. His hands were steady, but his mind was a storm. His family was safe, on their way to the headquarters now with the army of men he trusted, but the unsettling calm in his chest only made his rage more dangerous.

“Reporting this to the police?” Jimin's voice broke through the silence, a smirk tugging at his plump lips as he approached. His footsteps were light, almost graceful, as he surveyed the room, his eyes flicking over the men as they worked. “Bold move, hyung.”

Yoongi scoffed, his gaze flicking to Jimin, but he didn’t move a muscle. His fingers tapped the side of his cigarette, the ember glowing in the dark. The sarcasm in Jimin’s voice didn’t faze him. “I’ve already been beaten up by Hoseok earlier, so I’ll just tell them those three assholes did this to me. Self-defense, you know? Trespassing. I’m sure the story will hold up fine.”

Jimin chuckled, shaking his head, but the amusement in his eyes faded as he studied Yoongi. The older man’s expression was cold, a warning to anyone who dared to underestimate his resolve. The anger simmering beneath the surface was a storm just waiting to break free.

Yoongi’s lips curled into something between a grin and a snarl, his eyes sharp as they narrowed on the scene. He tossed the cigarette aside, grinding it into the floor with his heel, and turned toward Jimin. “You know what’s even better?”

Jimin raised an eyebrow, his expression cautious but curious. “What’s that?”

Yoongi’s voice was low, cutting through the tension like a blade. “Call the reporters. I want this shit to be known throughout the country. Making an unprecedented attack on the chief of the police? And his family? His wife that is blind? And his young son? Guess whose sympathy the public will side?”

Jimin blinked, clearly surprised by the request. But Yoongi’s eyes were steely, full of something dark and dangerous. His gaze flicked to the team, who were still working meticulously in the background.

“They need to know who fucked with the wrong man,” Yoongi continued, his voice a low growl. “And the first person who reacts? The first one who does anything different… will most likely be our fucking enemy.”

Jimin's smirk faltered, replaced by the same steel in his leader’s eyes. He didn’t need to ask who Yoongi was talking about. He understood. It wasn’t just about the attack anymore. It was about sending a message—a statement. Whoever was behind this wasn’t just after the chief of police. They were challenging the entire fucking empire.

Jeon Jungkook was the last to enter the room. He held his hand up, silencing the comment Seokjin was clearly about to make on his pajamas.

“It’s 3 in the morning. Don’t, hyung,” he stated, placing his trusty laptop down on the table.

All of them were gathered there, their faces that of seriousness except for Taehyung who was just playing on his phone as though the situation was not grave enough to merit his attention. But the situation was bigger than they initially thought. Someone was foolish enough to go after one of the leaders of Bangtan. An attack to one was, and should be, considered an attack to all.

This ends now.

All of them was there…well, except for Hoseok who they hadn’t seen since the confrontation. However, to what Namjoon divulged, Hoseok was in his own mansion.

Yoongi sat at the head of the table, the whiskey glass in his hand the only thing that betrayed his seething anger. He didn’t speak, but they all knew that a quiet Yoongi was the most dangerous of them all. The air around him seemed to hum with unspoken rage, his silence more ominous than any outburst.

Jungkook sighed, rubbing his eyes. He’d barely slept, and now this. As if things weren’t already complicated enough. He didn’t have the energy for the usual banter. Seokjin, on the other hand, was pouting dramatically, his voice whining as he complained about how the stress of Bangtan’s messes was taking years off his life.

“JK,” Namjoon called for his attention before smiling at him. “Tell us about what you found.”

He nodded before quickly tapping on his laptop. The hug screen in front of the table reflected his findings. “Among our known enemies, as well as people who have been acting strangely lately, these three are the main suspects. First, the one we blew out the ship last year. Second is the-”

Jungkook nodded and immediately began tapping away on his laptop. The large screen in front of the table illuminated as his findings were projected for everyone to see. His fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard, and soon the list of suspects was clear.

“Among our known enemies, as well as people who’ve been acting strange lately, these three are our main suspects,” Jungkook said, his voice steady despite the overwhelming tension. “First, the one we took down last year—the one we blew out of the water in the shipping deal. Second—”

“It’s the third one,” Taehyung interrupted suddenly, his bored eyes finally lifting from his phone to the screen. His voice was casual, as if he wasn’t dealing with the aftermath of an attack on their own.

“What?” Jimin asked, his eyes narrowed in curiosity. He looked at Taehyung, confused by his nonchalant interruption.

Taehyung rested his chin on his hand, the playful air about him from earlier gone as his expression became serious. “It’s the senator. The aspiring president in the upcoming election.”

There was a brief silence before Jimin spoke up again, his brows furrowing. “The senator?”

Taehyung nodded, his tone unchanged, still calm as ever. “He’s been in our pockets for a long time. We’ve been backing him for years, keeping him in line, helping him with his ambitions. But suddenly, we told him we wouldn’t be supporting his bid for president anymore.”

Jungkook looked up from his laptop, his expression now tense. He knew where this was going.

Taehyung continued, his voice growing colder. “The only dirt he has in his ledger? Us. The Bangtan. If we don’t support him, then we’re supporting the other guy. And that’s the last thing he can afford. Losing our backing would destroy everything he’s been working for.

And they all know what happens if they lose our support.”

“Taehyung-ah, that’s a heavy accusation. Do you have any proof?” Seokjin asked.

He nodded, showing his phone to them wherein it showed how he messaged several people with one sentence.

You messed with the wrong people.

The only one who didn’t answer? The senator.

“And well, my sources tell me he’s on the move right now. The fucker is on his way here. So…should we keep going with this pointless meeting or should we head out for war? Because, you know, this is getting honestly boring.”

Before anyone could respond, a loud explosion rattled the walls of the headquarters. The sound of glasses shattering echoed through the room, sharp and continuous, as the windows cracked under the force. Instantly, all six men were on their feet, instinctively reaching for their weapons and preparing for what was about to come. The tension in the air now felt like static, crackling with violence.

The senator had moved first.

Fucking politics.

Yoongi sneered as they all moved to action. “If you get out of here alive, Namjoon-ah, I’m making you a fucking senator!”

“Hyung!”

Well, they did need a political backing. And who better to do that than Namjoon?

The sound of another explosion came, followed by distant gunfire. The senator’s men were already here. They didn’t have time to waste.

Jimin’s sharp eyes narrowed as he pulled on his jacket, his hands readying his gun. “What a fucking foolish man,” he muttered angrily, his voice low but carrying the weight of experience. The last time a chaos with this magnitude was unleashed was when they overthrew Kim Seokjin’s father.

Jimin was already up, moving fluidly, shooting back with precision. His aim was flawless, every bullet finding its mark. The others moved with the same deadly efficiency, but Yoongi’s mind was already a step ahead. His eyes darted to the monitors, where enemy positions were flashing in real-time. He knew the layout of his headquarters inside and out, but it was clear: the senator had come prepared. This wasn’t just a raid—it was a full-on assault.

The next blast came from the front entrance, a massive explosion that blew the doors off their hinges, sending fragments of concrete and wood scattering across the hallway. The force of it sent Yoongi stumbling back, his ears ringing. He recovered quickly, shaking off the disorientation, and rose to his feet.

“Stay alert! They’ll breach the back soon,” Yoongi ordered, voice cold and commanding. He was already heading toward the armory. This wouldn’t be over quickly.

"Taehyung, take the right flank. Namjoon, the left. Jimin, Seokjin—get to the control room. Jungkook, you’re with me. We take the front. Clear?"

"Clear," Taehyung responded, his voice low and focused as he sprinted toward the hallway.

Jimin didn’t need to be told twice—he was already moving. The rest of Bangtan didn’t hesitate either. They were soldiers in their own right, and they knew what was at stake.

Gunfire erupted in the hallway as the attackers advanced. Bullets ricocheted off the walls, but Yoongi was already moving with ruthless precision, his weapon blazing. He took out two men in quick succession, his face impassive as he executed the moves he had perfected over the years. Jungkook was at his side, equally efficient, his gunshots timed perfectly with Yoongi’s.

The sound of the explosions and gunfire seemed to blur together, the chaos intensifying as more men poured into the building. Bangtan’s headquarters had become a battlefield.

Yoongi’s eyes scanned the area, taking note of the positions of his enemies. Every move was calculated. He ducked behind cover, reloading his gun, then came up again, firing without hesitation. The senator’s men were aggressive, but they were no match for Bangtan’s precision and training.

In the distance, the unmistakable sound of a helicopter's rotors beating against the air told Yoongi that their enemies weren’t just coming on foot. The senator had everything planned. It was a full-scale operation.

"Hyung!" Jungkook’s voice cut through the noise, and Yoongi's gaze snapped to him. The younger man was taking down enemy after enemy with ruthless precision, but his face was set in a grim expression, his tone heavy with urgency. "You have to take noona and Jiwon away from this! We’re being surrounded! Backup is a good ten minutes away. You have to keep your family safe!"

Yoongi’s throat tightened at the mention of you and Jiwon. The very thought of you being anywhere near this madness made the blood in his veins run cold.

His eyes flicked to the doorway where you and his son were hidden, safe for the moment, but Yoongi knew that wasn’t enough. He could feel the pressure mounting, the walls of the building seeming to close in with every passing second. The helicopter overhead was a clear indication that the senator wasn’t messing around. This was orchestrated. This was personal.

“We’ll survive. Noona needs you more than us,” Jungkook repeated, his voice a low growl as he fired off a few more rounds, taking out two more of the senator’s men who were sneaking up behind Yoongi.

He hesitated only for a moment, before his jaw set in grim determination. His eyes darted toward the hallway where he had last seen you and Jiwon, the precious little family he thought he could protect.

“Go. Take care of yourself, hyung,” Jungkook said before dashing off into the fray, moving with the precision of a seasoned soldier, disappearing into the shadows as he fought off another wave of enemies.

Yoongi didn’t wait. He moved quickly, every muscle in his body tense as he pushed his way through the chaos, his gun at the ready. As he passed the hallway leading to the room where you and Jiwon were, he felt his chest tighten with a sense of urgency. He couldn’t afford to hesitate.

"Stay low. Stay quiet. Don't make a sound," Yoongi ordered as he approached you, his voice calm but sharp, like steel wrapped in velvet. His gaze was burning, determined. He could feel the weight of his promise to protect you.

He found you in the small, dark room where you were trying to comfort Jiwon, who was clutching a stuffed bear to his chest, eyes wide in confusion. You looked up, your face pale, but there was a quiet strength in your expression. You already knew. You could feel it, too.

Yoongi moved to you quickly, kneeling in front of you. He cupped your face gently, brushing away a tear that had escaped down your cheek, and locked eyes with you.

“We’re leaving now,” he said softly but firmly. “Stay close. Don’t look back.”

You nodded, your grip tightening around Jiwon. There was no question in your eyes. The world outside was in chaos, but you trusted Yoongi, and that was all that mattered right now.

With one last glance at his son, Yoongi turned and led you down the hallway, his mind racing. He wasn’t just fighting to protect you—he was fighting to keep his family whole. And no one—no one—was going to take that from him.

The getaway car was so nearby. He moved his family as quickly as he could, but with you being almost full blind made it difficult. As they rounded the corner, a sharp noise shattered the air. Yoongi’s heart lurched as three masked figures emerged from the shadows, blocking their path. Their weapons gleamed ominously in the dim light. Yoongi’s blood ran cold, but his movements were swift—he spun, instinctively pushing you and Jiwon behind him, using his body as a shield.

Before he could even point the gun at them, three successive shots pierced through their head and their bodies fell down with a thud, revealing Hoseok.

Hoseok lowered his gun, his expression unreadable, his stance calm yet deadly. The hallway, once filled with the sounds of chaos, was eerily silent now, save for the heavy breaths from Yoongi and the distant crackle of the fighting outside.

Yoongi blinked, the shock of the sudden shift in the situation still gripping him. Hoseok? He had barely registered his presence, too focused on the danger ahead.

“What? Are you not going to hurry?” Hoseok’s voice was light, almost amused, but his eyes were hard. There was no room for hesitation, no room for weakness. He was the last person to show any sign of mercy, but right now, there was a flash of something in his gaze that told Yoongi everything—Hoseok had no intention of letting anything happen to his family.

Yoongi didn’t waste time on words. His instincts took over. With a sharp nod, he motioned for you and Jiwon to move faster.

Once Yoongi had secured his family in the car, he took a moment, standing still in the chaos that surrounded them. Without a word, he stepped closer, cupping your face gently, his thumb brushing away the tears that had fallen. His gaze was soft but filled with a sorrow that hurt more than anything. And then, as though time itself had stopped, Yoongi leaned down and kissed you deeply.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It wasn’t just a goodbye. It was everything he couldn’t say, everything he couldn’t protect you from. It was the way his lips moved against yours—slow, desperate, full of meaning. It was a kiss that burned with the intensity of his love and his fear. He kissed you as if he were memorizing every sensation—the way you fit against him, the way your breath mingled with his, the way your heart raced in sync with his own. This moment, this fragile piece of time, was all they had.

You clung to him, your sobs breaking through as you gripped his hands with a desperation that mirrored his own. “Come back to me, okay? Come back to us,” you cried, voice trembling, raw with fear and love.

Yoongi’s chest tightened. He smiled, but it was the kind of smile that felt like it could tear him apart. Instead of answering you, he whispered those three words that had always meant everything between you two, but in this moment, they felt like a promise, a plea, and a goodbye all at once.

“I love you.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before he pulled back, his eyes never leaving yours. But there was no more time. He stepped back, heart breaking with every second that ticked by. His gaze flickered to Jiwon, and without hesitation, he reached for his son. Pulling the boy into his arms, Yoongi hugged him tight, pressing his forehead against his son’s.

“Be safe, Jiwon,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion.

Then, with one last lingering look at you, he straightened up, his face hardening into a mask of resolve. There would be no time for hesitation. He turned and walked away, each step more purposeful than the last. He knew what he had to do. But with every step, the ache in his chest only grew.

Hoseok looked at Yoongi who was marching to him instead of inside the car. “What the fuck? We have no time. You have to leave–”

Yoongi threw him the keys. “You take them to safety. You get them out of here. You get them to safety, no matter what happens. You take care of them, Hoseok. Don’t let anything happen to them.”

“H-hyung,” Hoseok muttered in confusion.

“You’re the better driver between the two of us. Keep them safe, Hoseok. Keep them safe, and I’ll take you to noona myself.”

Yoongi had five minutes.

Five minutes until backup arrived, and he had to make every second count. His heart pounded in his chest as he rushed back to the scene, every step calculated, every movement with purpose. His family was safe—for now. You and Jiwon were miles away from the chaos, out of harm’s way, but Yoongi knew this fight wasn’t over. Not until every last enemy was on the ground.

He weaved through the wreckage, his men fighting tooth and nail. The sounds of gunfire, shouts, and explosions filled the air, but Yoongi moved like a shadow—silent, swift, and relentless. The tide of battle had already begun to turn. His team, the Bangtan, were forces to be reckoned with. Their enemies were dropping like flies, overwhelmed by the sheer precision and ruthlessness of the Bangtan army. They’d been underestimated, and Yoongi intended to make sure they’d never make that mistake again.

There was no hesitation now. Victory was within their grasp. Yoongi could feel it, in his bones, in the tension of every muscle, in the pulse of adrenaline thrumming through his veins. He was going to win this. He would make sure of it.

But just as Yoongi allowed himself to believe victory was imminent, it came—the sharp, searing pain of a bullet tearing through his shoulder. His body jolted, the force of the impact sending him crashing to the ground.

The battle was still raging, but it was quieter now. The enemies’ numbers were dwindling. Yoongi knew they were on the verge of ending this. He had to keep fighting.

Meanwhile, miles away, a car sped down the road, the tires screeching as it rapidly approached the getaway car. It was coming for you. Hoseok’s eyes narrowed as he watched the car in the rearview mirror, knowing that the danger wasn’t over yet.

In a split-second decision, Hoseok swerved the car, taking a sharp turn that threw everyone inside off balance. The vehicle came directly into the path of the oncoming car, his body bracing for the impact. His mind moved faster than his body, and in that moment, he knew what he had to do—he had to take the hit. His team, your family—they were more important than him.

The crash was deafening. Glass shattered, metal crumpled, and Hoseok’s body jerked violently from the force of the impact. But he didn’t care. All that mattered was that you were safe.

As the world around him fell into chaos, Yoongi’s world came to a halt. His pulse raced, but his vision began to darken. He had to finish this, he told himself. He had to finish it for you, for Jiwon, for his family, and for the legacy of the Bangtan.

But in that split second, everything stopped. The roar of battle, the screeching tires, the pounding in his ears—everything faded into the background.

Epilogue

#bts fic #yandere bts #min yoongi fic #bts yandere #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x y/n #yandere min yoongi #bts fanfic #yandere min yoongi x you #min yoongi yandere #yoongi fic #yoongi x reader #bts mafia au #mafia bts fic #bts mafia #bts #mafia min yoongi x you

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bangtanficsforyou · 9 months ago

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Fine Line (02)- Patreon Exclusive

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader.

Au: Enemies to lovers.

Word count: 4.5K

Genre: angst, smut, fluff

Summary: You hate Jungkook. Jungkook hates you. It's simple. Until it isn't.

Read part one here.

A/N: This is my first patreon exclusive and I'm really excited about it. Can't express my gratitude for the support that I have received on my Patreon. This is probably just a means to express that 💓. To whoever is reading this, I love you 💗.

ah, well, Y/N is a literal child and there's some kissing stuff going on but we don't know who's that between so shhhhh 🤫

Things between you and Jungkook are not the same anymore.

Well, you have been pretty normal. It’s Jungkook who has not been his usual self with you. No matter how hard you have been trying to ignite the flame of bickering filled with animosity—you have been purposely avoiding the word hate—nothing has been working!

Take today for example, the four of you—you, Jisoo, Taehyung and Jungkook—had gone shopping and you had sarcastically passed a comment when you saw Jungkook showing interest in a plain black t-shirt.

“Well, you know how they say black is the color of the devil,” a smirk adorns your lips as you sweetly speak the words. “I think this shirt would really suit you.”

Jungkook to your surprise, had not retorted with a sarcastic comment of his own. Instead, he had nodded with a serious look in his eyes.

“I think you’re right. I’ll get this. Thanks Y/N.”

THE AUDACITY!!!!! The audacity of this man to fucking say thank you!!!! Not to mention the fact that he actually went ahead and purchased that very same t-shirt. And never ever to mention the fact that for a brief moment you had agreed that he would look good in it, cause why mention things that never happened? Hehe.

What’s important is, you’re not one to give up.

One fine day, Jungkook just decides to question the animosity between the both of you as if he wasn’t just as much of a participant in it. And now, he is trying to prove his point and making it look like it was all you all along. Huh! As if you would let him succeed. You will prove it, that the animosity has always been mutual and that it shall remain so.

You’re a girl on a mission, who will never admit defeat.

#jungkook x reader #Jungkook smut #Jungkook angst #Jungkook fluff #Jungkook au #Enemies to lovers #Biker Jungkook #Jungkook fic #Jungkook FF #BTS fic #Jungkook scenarios #BTS scenarios #BTS FF #Fic: fine line

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lo1k-diamonds · 8 months ago

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Stellar Behavior 💜 Part 1

“What is worth an innocent’s life? You decide.”

PAIRING: Officer!Yoongi x Mafia (f)reader

SUMMARY: Yoongi has been in the police force for long enough to know that the system isn’t perfect, so when an injustice is about to put his protégé in jail, he has no other choice but to go to you. You’re the devil, but you’re hard to resist, and he needs to decide between falling into temptation or showing you that two can play the game.

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

GENRE: Gangster AU, Law AU, enemies to lovers, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: corruption, power dynamics, blackmail, threats w/ a knife, slight degradation, sexual favors, oral (f rec)

A.N. I'm soooo excited, this fic is 🔥 Infinite thank yous to @moonleeai and @downbad4yoongi for working through my crazy and being incredible! Enjoy 🔥🔥

Masterlist | Masterpost | AO3 | Wattpad | Next Chapter >

Yoongi huffed and threw his eyeglasses onto the keyboard, rubbing his eyes so roughly he saw lights. It was no use; no matter how much he went over the evidence, again and again, he couldn’t change it.

“Hyung.”

He uncovered his eyes, only to be met with Taehyung’s sadness. His shoulders sagged from the sleepless nights ever since Jimin had gotten arrested, with dark circles bringing even more desolation to his otherwise heavenly features. He knew it wasn’t Taehyung’s intention, but the sight only unnerved Yoongi even more.

“Go home, get some sleep.”

Taehyung flinched, “But—”

“That’s an order, Officer.”

Taehyung stiffened and instantly bowed and showed his respects to his Superintendent before turning and leaving. Only then did Yoongi heave a deep breath and observe around him. It was weird seeing his department at the police station empty, without the officers at their desks taking calls or doing paperwork while on one of their 24-hour shifts. But they had all been shaken up, and so he had sent them home.

He was proud of his Division, and as their Chief, he couldn’t be more certain of everyone’s conduct and character. This included Jimin’s, and it was the reason why he was losing his mind over this case.

No matter how much he reviewed the footage and evidence, there was no mistake — Officer Jimin had seemingly shot his partner dead during an arrest gone wrong. This was a natural conclusion, judging by the body camera of the now deceased cop, Officer Junghee, that had captured Jimin nearing him with a fuming pistol in his hand. One that matched the ballistics report on Yoongi’s desk.

This was why the prosecution wanted to charge him with manslaughter at the very least, but Yoongi could not be convinced. The body camera also captured the panic in Officer Jimin’s voice and expression as he tried to save his downed partner. Yoongi didn’t care if that was Jimin’s gun or if it was fuming in his hand — he didn’t believe it.

“It wasn’t me!” The words Jimin shouted as he was arrested conveyed an absolute world of hurt and combined with the shock in Jimin’s eyes was seared into Yoongi’s retinas, causing him to dig the heel of his hands into his eyes again. But no matter how much he attempted to change the image, it wouldn’t. Jimin, his protégé, was still being handcuffed and taken away while begging, “I didn’t, you have to believe me! He put it in my hands! Hyung!”

Yoongi nudged his eyeglasses off the keyboard, locked his computer, and grabbed his coat. On long nights like these, he didn’t bother staying in uniform, only wearing black pants with a white shirt and his badge and holster belt. He made his way outside and got into his car, acknowledging whoever he met along the way. Temperatures were freezing, and his car didn’t start immediately. He reached for his nicotine gum while he waited for the car to warm up. When it finally started, so did the 3 AM news on the radio right as he left the parking lot.

“In a shocking revelation, an officer from the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency shot his partner dead after pulling up to a suspicious vehicle in Dongjak District. The mounting evidence is undeniable, and the prosecution is discussing the potential penalty in such a case, with the spokesperson revealing in a press conference that while mistakes happen, justice needs to be served.”

Yoongi kept chewing and driving as the prosecutor’s voice echoed through the speakers. On the outside, Yoongi was the picture of calm, cool, and collected, but inside, he was fuming. He had spoken with the prosecutor many times, who preferred a clean-cut arrest to build his case to run for whatever political role he was after rather than fight for justice, as he claimed. Yoongi had always known that multiple interests abound in the justice system, but now he was starting to get pissed.

When he parked the car, he looked outside through the windshield, observing quietly as the people moved in and out of the Aether. The bouncers kept drunks at bay, and despite the booming music and the flashy lights, everything looked normal for a nightclub.

He removed his belt and badge, shoving them in the glove compartment so hard that something fell out. He reached to grab it from the floor, his frown instantly turning into a scowl. It was a photo of him hugging a woman, laughing, taken many years ago when they were still happy. When they were not even married yet, let alone divorced.

He got out of the car and ripped the photo into as many tiny pieces as possible, dropping the scraps in a trashcan along with his gum. Then he stopped in front of the bouncers with his hands in his pockets, saying six little special words.

“I want to see the boss.”

The first bouncer just scoffed a laugh and shook his head, but the second one eyed him from head to toe, “If you’re here to inspect, then you have to identify yourself first.”

“Not an inspection,” Yoongi said nonchalantly, glancing around. “It’s not an official visit.”

The smirking bouncer kept the flow of the people going in and out while the serious one, resembling the first almost to a T, pressed his earpiece further into his ear, waiting for orders. Yoongi had noticed the cameras already while he was walking up, and he wondered how long it would take for them to know exactly who he was and why he was there.

The serious bouncer moved closer to him, “Are you armed?”

“No.”

“I have to make sure.”

Yoongi glanced at him, then nodded, raising his hands as he let the man make sure he was unarmed. When the tall man rose from his knees after checking Yoongi’s ankles, he lowered his arms and waited for the goon to catch his breath.

“Alright, you can go in.”

He moved past the bouncers and into the entryway, but he hadn’t even made it to the coat check when someone approached him. Just by the light clothing, styled hair, and badge hanging on his belt, Yoongi could immediately tell that the man worked there.

“Follow me.”

Yoongi wasn’t there to sightsee, but he could appreciate the columns and marble structures and statues. Along with the paintings, velvet curtains, and carpets, it made the Aether look like a temple or divine abode of the Gods. The aesthetic intensified as they went up the stairs, but he didn’t have time to register much. In a second, he was walking into what appeared like an ordinary office — a pleasant space with a large desk at the center in front of huge dark windows that showed the lights flashing from the dance floor. He ignored the liquor table, the cabinets with files, and the black velvet sofas to the side. What his eyes were immediately drawn to was you — you who had pushed the large computer screen to the side so you could watch him come in. Your chin rested graciously on your intertwined fingers, with your elbows on the desk, eyes flickering with amusement, watching him through dark curled lashes. He hadn’t even noticed he had walked to your desk or that the door had closed behind him, but then you stood up, letting your delicate arms fall alongside your tight black dress. Your black, straight hair slid over your shoulders, framing the plunging cleavage of your dress, and when you smiled, he felt hot—molten hot.

“Welcome, Superintendent,” you smiled with a glint of amusement, your perfect teeth shining in the overhead light, and he clenched his fists behind his back. “Or should I say Yoongi? I was told you weren’t here in an official capacity, but…” You eyed him from head to toe, and he did his best to stay poised and calm. “You don’t look like you’re here to club.”

Yoongi was already sweating, not out of nervousness but because of you. Because you always eyed him like you owned him, always had a hint of mischief to every smile, and were always as elusive as a ghost. One he couldn’t catch and had grown tired of running after.

Still, hearing his name in your mouth for the first time… made him pull on the collar of his shirt, “Not here to party; I’m here on business.”

Your eyebrow twitched, and he looked at you seriously; you were a cunning fox of the worst kind. Worse than a weed, than a pest, than the bloody smoke still hanging in the air and making his fingers twitch. He had a simple goal, and he had to stay focused.

“Not an official visit, but you’re here on business…” you mused out loud then shrugged. “Soon, it will be four in the morning,” you revealed with a hint of disdain as you neared the table that held liquor in crystal decanters. “Surely, if you wanted to do something official, you’d wait at least three more hours?” You chuckled as you poured a finger of whiskey into a glass. “Want some?” He shook his head, and you shrugged again. You made your way back to your desk, but instead of going around it, you perched on the side of it, close enough for him to see your dress parting, giving hints of your upper thighs, “What can I do for you, Chief?”

Yoongi had nerves of steel; he ignored the lush skin of your thighs, the cleavage, the numbing sound reverberating through the walls, the dimmed lights, and the way your eyes seemed to challenge him with every blink.

He focused, “I want your help.”

Your eyes widened comically, the image of innocence and confusion, “Mine? What could such a powerful person need from me?”

Thankfully, your coy attitude irritated him and helped him concentrate. “I know the suspicious car they were chasing was one of yours.”

Your eyes widened even more, but this time, you brought your glass to your lips to hide a smile, “My, my, Officer. I know I have many cars, but to say I was a fugitive—”

“You know what I mean,” his jaw clenched, and you licked your lips.

“I don’t,” you could only smile, and he clenched his fists again. There it was. It pissed the fuck out of him. “Are you going to arrest me, Chief? Make good use of those deduction skills of yours and put pretty handcuffs around my wrists?”

He hated that his heart jumped in his chest as you whispered salaciously and leaned into him, shortening the distance between you. He hated how tempting you looked, and he hated the way your eyes fixed on his, as if you were ready to follow suit with your provocation. You were probably a tease like that with everyone all the time. It pissed him off even more.

He only blinked, ever the master of showing a relaxed demeanor, “I have no evidence to arrest you, nor am I here in that capacity.”

It instantly hit him, as you straightened your back and finished the drink in your hand, that he was going to have to ask for your help. Not outsmart you, not convince you, not squabble with half facts and hunches — he needed your help and that meant he had to come down off his pedestal.

“My— An officer from my team will be sentenced for something he didn’t do. I’m out of options; I’ve hit a dead-end.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line as you put down the empty glass, “Don’t tell me — the system he holds and protects with his life won’t even try to prove his innocence.”

His jaw clenched; he hated that you weren’t completely wrong. “I’m trying to prove his innocence.”

The corners of your mouth twitched in a smile. “What makes you think I can help?”

He kept his mouth closed for a thoughtful moment. There was no use in accusing you again. Your smile wasn’t sly, so he decided to go for it. “You’re one of the biggest players.”

“Me?” You acted surprised, “I just own a few businesses here and there…”

“They say you’re the one to contact for information.” You tilted your head, and he insisted, “Even if that wasn’t your car, you’d know about it because it was on your turf. You’re you. I just know you know something that can help us solve this.”

That answer seemed to satisfy you because your lips and eyes revealed a small yet genuine smile that caught his breath. It made him realize he was leaning towards you now, exposing himself like that, but he couldn’t bring himself to hate it. Not when you looked at him like that, feeding into his hope.

“Say I do,” you started, eyes fixed on his. “Say I have evidence that could exonerate Officer Park.” He snapped straight; he had never told you the name of the Officer, and the media didn’t know it either. Yet what got him were your words, “Why would I help you?”

He clenched his jaw so hard that his teeth clicked. He just about growled with the way irritation mixed with his desperation, making him reel.

“Come on, Chief. Talk to me,” you pressed, wanting him to push through both the shock and the stick up his ass. “You must be desperate enough if you’re asking for my help, and I’m not denying it. I’m saying I might have what you need. What would you do to save an innocent from prison for life or worse?”

He didn’t think, “You have it? Something that could undeniably prove his innocence?”

He knew before he was done asking that it was impossible and that he was acting crazy. Yet, you leaned into him, meeting him halfway, your breath hitting his chin, “In those exact words? I do.” You sat back and let your words sink in, not knowing they gave him a full-body shudder. He always knew you were powerful and had your ways, but holy shit— “What do you have that I want?”

He opened his mouth but instantly closed it. Objectively, he had nothing. But maybe there was something he could do. First, though, he needed to know it was real. “What evidence do you have? Show it to me—”

“Hmmm, no,” you pressed your lips and twisted your nose, displeased. “That’s not how this works. This is based on trust. Besides, you don’t seem to have anything to offer.”

For a split second, he wondered if you were bullshitting him, but he honestly didn’t care. He had to do something. “You want something concrete for a maybe?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” your tone hardened as your expression lost humor.

“Alright, name it. Tell me what is worth your help.”

His tone was soft, and it worked to soothe you. His dark eyes helped; there was so much willingness in them, and you liked that. The man there asking for your help to correct an injustice was the kind of man you were looking for.

“Since you asked,” you cheekily started, pulling your hair behind your shoulders. “I want three things.” He didn’t even blink, so you continued, “The first is a favor. Of my choice and at my discretion whenever I shall need it. The second is for you to get on your knees. And the third is for you to eat.”

He blinked, “What?” He looked down to follow your hands over your thighs, and you spread your legs for him, though the black dress covered between them. He shook his head in bewilderment, “You’re crazy!”

“Crazy?” You chuckled, “I think I’m being quite reasonable.”

“You— Do you hear what you’re asking?”

He sounded breathless and could feel the heat on his cheeks, which was not ideal. He almost managed to step back, but a quirk of your eyebrow kept him still — he needed that evidence.

“Oh my, Chief Min. Are you getting heated at the thought of a couple of favors?” He scoffed, and you continued your tease, “Or is it the knees? Too proud to beg?”

“No, not too proud,” he mumbled between teeth. He was ready to kneel on the floor and beg, and the heat rising in his neck told him the rest wasn’t a problem either. And that was the problem. “The favor—” He cleared his throat, scratching it, “What is the favor?”

“I don’t know yet,” you shrugged, and it seemed to him like it didn’t matter. He knew that couldn’t be true, that had to be what you were really after — something specific from the Superintendent of the Seoul Metropolitan Police. And yet your eyes were shining in such a way that he almost forgot who you were. Almost.

“Something illegal, no doubt.”

You sighed and he took the moment to let the anger cool him — you were a criminal about to use his good intentions to surely accomplish something even worse. Instead of cooling him, irritation made him snap his knuckles and shift on his feet.

“I don’t know what it is, but it shouldn’t matter,” you said more coldly, squinting your eyes. “What is worth an innocent’s life? You decide.”

There was a hint of impatience in your tone that only riled him up more. He turned to you, “What’s stopping me from just—”

“You’re not that stupid,” you interrupted, raising your chin. His eyes noticed the surveillance cameras and you smirked, “They’re not who you should be concerned about.”

Your smile was predatory but he scoffed. You didn’t need to threaten him, and he didn’t like the coercion. He refused to look at you for a moment, giving you the impression that he was weighing his options. In reality, he was figuring out what angered him more — the fact that he was about to make a deal with a devil like you, or that he was that turned on from it.

You huffed and got off the desk, your heels clicking on the floor like a timer had just gone off. “Never mind—”

He grabbed your arm to keep you from walking away, and in a second, something sharp was poking his lower stomach. You both froze in place, your gaze angry and fixed on his, while his heart raced inside his chest. He didn’t let go of your arm, and you didn’t lower your knife.

“I never heard a yes from those pretty lips, so…” you spoke quietly, then pressed the blade harder. “Hands off.”

He knew you could put your money where your mouth was, and that if you wanted to kill him and get rid of him, you would. Yet, his grip didn’t lessen as he observed you. He was still trying to figure things out — not what to do, but you. He hated you objectively; you represented everything wrong with the world. Jimin was innocent; you shouldn’t be bargaining for his life, you should do the right thing. But you weren’t, you wanted to play with fire. Maybe even to get burned.

“What is it…” he started quietly, still eying your angry eyes. “Is it the risk? The humiliation? The footage for blackmailing me later? The power over a figure of authority?”

You scoffed, leaning in to answer just as quietly, “No risk, Chief. The footage might be insurance, but you’re a man of your word. No power over you because you’ll be doing it willingly. And no humiliation,” you chuckled. “It’s a privilege to eat at this table. Although…” You looked down, then smirked. “I can play if that’s what you like.”

He looked away from your eyes for the first time and almost flinched; his pants had a tent. He couldn’t even think; why was his body betraying him like this? He tried pulling away and letting you go, but you pressed the tip of your knife harder.

“Nuh-uh,” you whispered, taking a deep breath a little closer to his neck. “I heard the missus left cause you couldn’t get it up, but won’t you look at that—” Your tone was sly, and he gripped your arm harder in retaliation. You laughed, “I guess she just didn’t know how to play. Or maybe you like this,” your voice lowered wantonly, and a shiver ran up his spine as though he was starting to attune to it. “Like not having a choice, to be in danger, to be forced to do something reprehensible.”

He had to lick his lips because for a second he thought he was drooling, “I have a choice.”

You smiled and his cock twitched, “Then choose.”

He eyed your smile and leaned into you, but you chuckled and playfully pressed the tip of the knife to impose distance, ignoring the red droplets tainting the fabric.

“On your knees, Chief.”

His eyes snapped to yours, and he pulled you by the arm, disregarding the blade, so you’d walk back until the back of your thighs hit the desk. Then, he gripped your hips and helped you on the desk, fisting your dress in the same movement to get it out of the way as he kneeled between your legs. Your knife had slipped from your hand as you rested them on the desk for support, and you didn’t think to pick it back up. You wanted him to eat you and mean it, but he was going above and beyond — nuzzling your thighs and inhaling your scent, frantically fighting with your dress, and trying to pry your legs further apart so he could have access.

When his nose poked your clit, you jumped in place, and his fingers dug into your hips, even through the fabric of the dress. Just looking at the way he was fighting to get his mouth on you was positively melting you, but you wanted it to actually happen.

“Slide them down,” you breathed after he nuzzled and licked your core through your panties enough times to cover you with goosebumps.

He immediately obliged, and you shimmied to help him get rid of them. He threw them on the floor, then gripped your legs apart before giving you a look that seared you in place. You didn’t know what it was, but you were living for it, and the excitement burned your gut. The Superintendent looked like a piece of forbidden heaven between your thighs; who knew he’d have you melting like this just at the hint of doing what you asked?

A smirk spread on your lips as he kept struggling with your dress, until suddenly — rip. He bunched the fabric and pulled it, causing the slit that revealed your thigh to rip, and you chuckled. You liked that energy, that hunger; the way he was willing to destroy to have his way. Instantly, he had free leeway to uncover your core and press his mouth, rolling his tongue all over your slick folds.

You jolted with a sigh, gripping his hair at the back of his head. The more he laved his tongue over your slit to taste you, the more you had the urge to move, but you stayed still. With your eyes closed, you enjoyed every second of his discovery, from his licks to his tasting and humming. You heaved the breath you were holding when he nibbled your heat right before finding your clit to suckle, and your voice finally came out. You could almost laugh at how easily he had found his way, but your mind wasn’t there. While he found his rhythm, you guided him with expressive sighs, grazing your acrylic nails over his scalp without ever forcing him. You wouldn’t; his hunger was part of the power trip. Chief Min would eat you, give you what you wanted, and service you because you had that much power. You could bring someone like him to his knees. He liked it.

You suddenly pulled on his hair so he’d look up at you, and he did, not even bothering with a quizzical look. You bit your lip to stop a smile and relented your grip, and he looked down for a second. It was all it took for him to get back to it, and you let your head fall back with a sigh — case in point.

“The things you do for duty, Chief…”

His tongue kept laving over you as if you were desert, focused, regardless of your taunt. In fact, he seemed to have forgotten where he was or why because his hands started gently exploring your spread thighs. His fingers pressed to your curves and didn’t stop even when he felt the garter that held the knife you had used on him. Instead, he pulled on it, making it snap against your thigh, ripping a stronger moan from you.

It was then he realized you needed something stronger, so he pressed his face harder against your cunt, latched onto your clit, and started rutting into you. You were surprised but instantly melted, and your fingers curved around his hair. The grind of his lips pressing into you while his mouth held the suction was already maddening, but the thrumming of his tongue on your clit was the cherry on top. You didn’t have time to make it a challenge, or maybe you didn’t want to; his rhythm was perfect against your heat, and you moaned when it intensified. The strumming was precise and maddening, each tap firm and steady, giving you enough time to despair for the next one and moan when it came, leaving you to anticipate what would come next.

Your hips started moving on their own, and that was when you knew you had let go. There was no point in pretending he wasn’t doing it just like you wanted, or that you weren’t rolling into his face to feel him harder, forcing him to dig his long fingers into the flesh of your hips as he drank the slick melting out of you. The very sounds of his humming and licking drove the blood to your cheeks and emboldened your hips, messily humping against his mouth. You could feel the edge right before you, and every time you ground on his mouth, you thought that would be it.

“Fuck,” you groaned between teeth, looking down to find burning brown eyes drinking you more greedily than his hot mouth. He wasn’t stopping you or holding you back, he was letting you fuck his mouth however you wanted, and it popped you.

You let your head fall back and pressed his face to your cunt, your moans pitching higher when he sucked harder, as if to pull all the pleasure out of you like it was venom. He rode your climax with you, gripping your trembling legs around him as though he wished you’d smother him, and finally, you looked down. Your walls were still throbbing in the aftershocks when he dragged his tongue across you slowly, and you groaned through a smirk, then pulled him away by the hair.

“Easy there,” you smiled and let your legs down.

You quickly pulled your dress down to cover you again while your other hand raked through your long hair, putting it in place. He rose slowly to his feet with his eyes on you, and you didn’t even try hiding your heaving chest; he could see it well with such an observant gaze. His eyes were so intense that you shuddered and bit your lip, but avoiding them only landed your own on his evident arousal, and you smirked.

Looking up, for a moment, your taunt got caught in your throat. Min Yoongi looked the absolute best covered in your cum from nose to chin — deliciously ravenous.

You licked your lips, raising your hand to his face but stopping before you touched him. He mimicked you, his pink tongue collecting your slick over his lips while he focused on yours. Still, when your hand moved down, so did his eyes. You smirked, dodging his erection at the last second to hide your hand under your dress.

You hummed, closing your eyes as your fingers collected your wetness mixed with his saliva, and then brought them straight to your mouth. You licked them first, tasting what he did before putting them in your mouth and sucking.

You clenched, knitting your eyebrows as you realized how turned on you were. You were throbbing and craving something to push into you and fuck you senseless, and opening your eyes, you saw the same urge staring right back at you.

Your fingers left your mouth with a pop, and then you smiled, shaking your head, “Should have asked for a good fuck too.”

His dark eyes stayed on yours for a moment, and even when he wiped his chin with the back of his hand, they remained on yours. It was almost a taunt, and you grinned; you loved a good challenge, and even more the kind of fucking that lustful gaze promised. But you knew the worth of asking, and you were not going to come out losing.

“Maybe next time.”

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koooobi · 7 months ago

Text

Devil Town | Teaser (M)

genre: paranormal, ghost!au, supernatural, smut, fluff, angst

pairing: ot7 bts x reader

summary: She eagerly stepped into her new home, filled with excitement and a sense of newfound independence. Unbeknownst to her, the house held a hidden secret, as seven ethereal beings lingered within its walls, trapped in a realm between the living and the dead. Their presence would soon intertwine with her life, revealing a haunting tale of mystery where she would be forced to free them, bringing them back to the land of the living.

series masterlist | masterlist

Your first few days in the house were a whirlwind of unpacking and organizing. You carefully placed your favorite books on the shelves, hung up curtains that caught the light just right, and arranged cozy touches that turned each room into a small sanctuary. Boxes lay scattered, slowly dwindling in number as you added pieces of yourself to the space, arranging and rearranging until it felt less like an empty shell and more like a home.

By the time you were finished, you sighed in satisfaction, leaning against the worn wooden banister that framed the staircase. It was quiet—almost too quiet—but the kind of silence that felt peaceful, wrapping you in a sense of calm. You didn't notice it at first, the faint sounds overhead, until you settled onto the couch with a cup of tea and heard a soft, rhythmic tapping drifting down from above, coming from the attic.

You tried to brush it off. Old house, old noises, you told yourself, trying to dismiss it as just the floorboards settling. But curiosity gnawed at you, and with each passing minute, the sound seemed to grow louder, almost rhythmic, as if calling your name.

Finally, with a deep breath, you set your cup aside and rose, casting a glance up the dim stairway. You grabbed a flashlight, though you weren't sure why; something about the attic's shadowy corners unsettled you in a way you couldn't quite explain. Still, you found yourself climbing the stairs, the air growing cooler with each step, a hint of something stale lingering in the air.

At the top, you hesitated before pushing open the attic door, half-expecting dust and cobwebs, maybe a few forgotten boxes. But as your flashlight's beam swept across the room, you froze. Across from you, lined up along the far wall, was a row of portraits. Each one was framed in intricate, dark wood, perfectly preserved but muted in haunting grayscale tones.

Heart pounding, you stepped closer. Seven faces, frozen in time, gazed back at you—young men, each expression somber and strangely intense, as though they had secrets hidden just behind their eyes. The photographs were stunning in their detail, each capturing a distinct personality, a different mood. They wore vintage clothing that seemed pulled from another era, their gazes seeming to follow you, almost as if they were watching, waiting.

Chills prickled down your arms as you moved down the row, taking in the portraits one by one. A strange familiarity tugged at you, though you couldn't place it. You didn't know them, but something about them felt almost... known.

As you leaned in closer, the silence shattered. A whisper, barely audible, brushed past your ear. You spun around, flashlight trembling in your grip, but the attic was empty. The air seemed to thicken, the temperature plummeting as if an unseen presence lingered in the corners. Turning back to the portraits, your heart raced, the weight of their stares pressing down on you like a physical force.

And then, something changed. Each portrait bore a small brass plate, each engraved with a single name, each name familiar, but now feeling strange and haunting in this setting. Seokjin. Yoongi. Hoseok. Namjoon. Jimin. Taehyung. Jungkook.

Your breath caught as you stared into their eyes. For a split second, you thought you saw the faintest glimmer of movement—did they just blink? You stumbled back, heart pounding, questions swirling through your mind. Why were they here, preserved in this lonely attic? And what did it mean that you had found them? The whispers began again, soft as a breath, as if the walls themselves murmured secrets you weren't meant to hear.

Panicked, you turned and fled down the stairs, the lingering image of their eyes etched in your mind. Yet as you descended, the unnerving feeling wouldn't leave you. No matter how you tried to shake off the encounter, you couldn't help but feel you had disturbed something hidden, some mystery that lay just beyond reach, waiting for you to unravel it.

#bts yandere #bts ff #bts x reader #jungkook ff #taehyung ff #jimin ff #jung hoseok #namjoon #seokjin #yoongi #taehyung #jeon jungkook #jimin #bts x you #bts fanfic #bts smut

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star-my · 1 year ago

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BTS Fic Recs ☆ Tumblr (i)

These are all available on tumblr as of April 2024. Some are likely crossposted on ao3 as well.

~Ao3 RECS HERE~ ~Recs (ii)~ ~Recs (iii)~

Almost all are complete works, those with “+” after WC are incomplete. Most are BTS x (F!)Reader.

Most of these are Mature or Explicit (usually because of smut) ~ mdni ~ italicized titles rated G or T ~ Please read responsibly

If any authors tagged here wish to be removed/untagged, please lmk! | Shoutout to @ggukkiereads who does an amazing job creating rec lists, which helped me find many of these fics

F2L = friends to lovers ; E2L = enemies to lovers ; FE2L = frenemies to lovers ; R2L = rivals to lovers ; BFB = best friend's brother ; BBF = brother's best friend etc

OT7/Multi

☆ BTS Reactions by @dreamescapeswriting | SFW + NSFW |

☆ BTS Scenarios by @btsjfans | SFW + NSFW |

☆ BTS Scenarios by @bulletproofwhalien | NSFW + SFW |

☆ BTS Scenarios by @salvejoon | SFW + NSFW |

☆ BTS Scenarios by @sunshine-and-bangtan | SFW + NSFW |

☆ Desperado Series by @heartbeatan | Mafia AU | PJM, JJK, KTH (in progress) | 60-160k(+) each

☆ The Company series by @btsmakesmehappy | Agent AU | 25-37k(+) each (in progress)

☆ Mafia BTS Reactions by @ninetailedfoxmanchi | Mafia AU (+Yandere AU) |

☆ #CodeBTS series by @yminie | Mafia AU | 1-12k each

Kim Namjoon

☆ The Ghost in Apartment 1403 series by @notsoguiltykpop | Ghost AU, Supernatural AU, Roommate AU? | ?k

☆ beauty & the bookworm by @jungshookz | E2L Library AU, Uni AU | 20k

☆ la vie en bonsai by @jungshookz | S2F2L Neighbours AU, Baker AU | 38k

☆ The Seven Nights series by @theunknowncryptid | SMAU, Mafia AU | 13k

☆ real magic by @heretobbtstrash | S2F2L Single Parent AU, Coffee Shop AU, Coworkers AU | 17k

Kim Seokjin

☆ {Unavailable}

Min Yoongi

☆ Take One by @untaemedqueen | Pornstar AU | 24k

☆ The Deal series by @untaemedqueen | Mafia AU | ?k

☆ suit & tie by @jungshookz | CEO AU, Office AU, Coworkers AU, PA AU | 21k + drabbles

☆ hellish by @jungshookz | E2L Demon AU, Roommate AU | 22k

☆ strike a chord by @snackhobi | S2L Pianist AU, Bar AU | 16k

☆ straight shooter by @snackhobi | F2L/E2L Cyberpunk AU, Dystopian AU | 14k

☆ devil with the mint hair series by @theharrowing | E2FWB Brother's BFF AU, Stoner AU | 11k+

☆ a wager of lords and love by @hisunshiine | S2L Historical AU, Arranged Marriage AU | 7k

☆ daechwita by @chemicalpink | Daechwita AU, Assassin AU | 10k

☆ stay by @luffles424 | Daechwita AU, Assassin AU | 3k

☆ daechwita by @se0kie | Daechwita AU | 4k

☆ make me proud by @moonscriptsx | Established Relationship AU, Canon Idol-verse | 6k

☆ by its cover by @kittae | S2L Cat Dad AU | 2k

☆ misfortunately, yours by @sor-vette | S2F2L Dark Fae AU, Dark Fantasy AU | 32k

☆ mixtape by @jungblue | F2L Uni AU, Radio AU | 15k

☆ cyberslut by @kimnjss | SMAU, Uni AU, Fboy AU | ?k

☆ alive aha fxck by @softyoongiionly | F2L Neighbours AU, Vampire AU | 43k

☆ a brew of wings by @inkedtae | S2F2L Dragon AU, Witch AU | 10k

☆ fury of their scales by @kpopisthereasonihavenolife | Dragon AU | 18k

☆ inheritance series by @jincherie | Hybrid AU | 21k

☆ tuxedo series by @whatifyoulivelikethat | Cat(-shifter?) AU, Roommates AU | ft JJK | 49k+

☆ Assuage series by @btsqualityy | Omegaverse AU, Werewolf AU | ?k

☆ show by @httpjeon | Pw/oP ft BTS | 2k

☆ drip by @here2bbtstrash | Pw/oP | 5k

Jung Hoseok

☆ midnight confessions by @snackhobi | BFF2L Coworkers AU, Office AU, Buzzfeed Unsolved AU | 27k

☆ the bride of ashmedai by @jeonggukingdom | Demon AU, Arranged Marriage AU | 13k

Park Jimin

☆ The Bird Cage series + The Lion's Den series by @untaemedqueen | S2L Mafia AU | ?k

☆ Set It Off series by @btsqualityy | Mafia AU | ?k

☆ the hunt by @httpjeon | Shifter AU, Fantasy AU | 8k

☆ lovebug by @httpjeon | Hybrid AU | 12k

Kim Taehyung

☆ Pied Piper by @untaemedqueen | Mafia AU, Established Relationship AU | 10k

☆ maybe i do series by @chateautae | Arranged Marriage AU, Chaebol AU, CEO AU | 410k + drabbles

☆ kinda hot by @kimnjss | BFF2L SMAU, Uni AU, Fboy AU | ?k

☆ nip it in the bud by @opaljm | Brother's BFF AU, Piercing AU | 10k

☆ heatwave series by @curly-bangtan | F2L Roommate AU | 12k

☆ under the covers by @jessikahathaway | Agent AU | 23k

Jeon Jungkook

☆ heavy lifting by @snackhobi | Coworkers AU | 13k

☆ Miss Vagabond by @bubblesuga | F2L Gamer AU | 8k

☆ blizzard by @curly-bangtan | S2L Roommates AU | 16k

☆ Sparkle by @btsmosphere | F2L Roommates AU | 3k

☆ Hands-On Learning series by @ladyartemesia | Uni AU | 5k

☆ kiss it better by @jincherie | Uni AU, Sports AU, Cheer AU | 12k

☆ ghosts just wanna have fun by @sugaxjpg | Ghost AU, Supernatural AU, Uni AU | ft MYG + KTH | 20k

☆ tell me your secrets (i'm all ears) by @jinpire | Uni AU, Hybrid AU | 7k

☆ under the bridge by @jincherie | Hybrid AU | 11k

☆ Swipe right by @ppersonna | BFF2L Tinder AU | 9k

☆ overtime by @cupofteaguk | CEO AU, Office AU, PA AU, Coworkers AU | 12k

☆ I won't stop you series by @imsarabum | Vampire AU, Fantasy AU, Office AU, Coworkers AU, CEO AU, PA AU | ?k

☆ life eternal by @jungkookiebus | Fae AU | 9k

☆ hotter than hell series by @chateautae | Demon AU | 136k

☆ Hellblazer series by @jungkookiebus | Demon AU, Constantine AU | ?k

☆ agent of love series by @ppersonna | SMAU, Agent AU | ?k+

☆ strawberry kisses series by @kimnjss | SMAU, Brother's BFF AU, Tinder AU | ?k

☆ drag me down (to hell) series by @kimvtae | Mafia AU, Single Parent AU | 58k (abandoned)

☆ Concealed Weapon by @gimmesumsuga | Mafia AU, Husband AU | 10k

☆ hate sex by @yeoreos | FWB Pw/oP | 4k

Overall Favourite Authors (If I recc'd all their works like I want to/more than I have, I'd have to make this series even longer >.<)

☆ @bonvoyagenoona's masterlist

☆ @chateautae's masterlist

☆ @flowerwrites06's masterlist

☆ @here2bbtstrash's masterlist

☆ @hollyhomburg's masterlist

☆ @icyhobi's masterlist

☆ @jungshookz's masterlist

☆ @justcallmenikki7's masterlist

☆ @kpopfanfictrash's masterlist

☆ @ladyartemesia's masterlist

☆ @luxekook's masterlist

☆ @magicalsalamander's masterlist

☆ @yminie's masterlist

☆ @yoonia's masterlist

#bts fic recs #group: bts #type: fic #i think i did a pretty good job of hiding my yoonkook bias if i do say so myself :]

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chimcess · 5 months ago

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Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Other Tags: Football Player!Hoseok, Teacher!Reader, Firefighter!Namjoon, Older Brother!Namjoon, Architect!Taehyung, Older Brother!Taehyung, Property Developer!Jungkook Genre: Christmas AU, Strangers to Lovers AU, Crack (low-key), Romantic Comedy, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Angst, Smut Word Count: 27.1k+ Summary: It's Christmas, but the HOA is being a real Grinch. Hoseok is determined to save the holiday for his niece and nephew, but he'll need some help to pull it off. With a little teamwork from the trio living across the street, he might just be able to outsmart the HOA and make this a Christmas to remember. Warnings: HOA being the devil (wow, what a surprise...), Jealous!Taehyung, Namjoon is so over his shit, Reader too, Tae and Joon are both overprotective, Hoseok is a really great uncle, Halmark Christmas movie ass storyline, strong language, sexual tension, slight public exposure (completely on accident), kissing, tongue kissing, making out, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple positions, protected sex (wrap it up), lowkey soft dom Hoseok, handjob, multiple orgasms, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: Happy holidays!

The cold had settled in early this year, and Hoseok felt it in every corner of Colorado. December wasn't even over, but winter had already made itself comfortable, like an uninvited guest who planned to overstay. This wasn't the sharp, biting cold he knew from Illinois—the kind that slapped you in the face and stole your breath. No, Colorado's chill was cunning. It lingered just out of sight, waiting to slip into your bones when you least expected it.

Heated seats in his Land Rover weren't just a fancy perk; they were a necessity. Survival gear, really. His friends teased him about his top three reasons for loving his car. Number one was always the sound system—naturally. But if Namjoon was asking, he'd wax poetic about the impeccable safety ratings.

He hadn't meant to drive four hours from Denver to Salida on a whim. But when his sister Ji-woo called yesterday, her voice frayed at the edges, everything else took a backseat. She'd offered him a home-cooked meal, which was suspicious in itself. Ji-woo didn't cook unless there was a crisis. An invitation for a "warm, homemade dinner" was basically code red.

Without a second thought, he'd tossed an overnight bag into the backseat and hit the road. As he navigated through her labyrinth of a neighborhood—every house a carbon copy of the last—he understood why she always complained about getting lost. It was like driving through a real-life game of Spot the Difference, except there were no differences.

But it wasn't the monotony that made him pause when he pulled up to her house. It was the darkness. No Christmas lights twinkling in the frost, no inflatable reindeer wobbling on the lawn. Nothing. Ji-woo, who usually turned her home into a festive explosion the day after Thanksgiving, had left it bare. Hoseok pulled his jacket tighter as he stepped out, boots crunching on the icy driveway. He knocked on the door, the sound echoing down the eerily quiet street. His breath formed little clouds as he waited, a gnawing worry settling in his stomach.

Across the street, Taehyung squinted through his living room window, eyes fixed on Hoseok. "Someone's at Ji-woo's place," he mumbled, not budging an inch.

In the kitchen, Y/N shook her head with a smile. "She's allowed to have visitors, you know," she called out, balancing a tray of hot cocoa and freshly baked cookies.

"He looks... suspicious," Taehyung grumbled, still glued to the glass.

"Or maybe he's just cold," Y/N teased, setting the tray down on the coffee table. "Come on, leave the poor guy alone. We've got Elf queued up and everything."

Taehyung finally tore himself away from the window, his gaze drifting to the marshmallows melting into the cocoa. "Did you make the cookies with peanut butter chips?" he asked, feigning nonchalance.

"Like I'd forget," Y/N replied, a grin tugging at her lips. "No Kim family recipe skips the peanut butter chips."

He took a bite, his features softening as the familiar taste hit. "Dad would've approved," he said quietly.

"Yeah," she agreed, the moment hanging between them like a delicate ornament.

Back outside, Hoseok knocked again, shivering as a gust of wind snuck past his collar. He was about to fish out his phone when the door creaked open. Ji-woo stood there, her hair piled messily atop her head, eyes shadowed with exhaustion. But when she saw him, a flicker of relief crossed her face.

"You're here," she breathed, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Of course I'm here," he murmured into her hair. "You promised me a dubious home-cooked meal, remember?"

She laughed softly, the sound muffled against his coat. "Come in before you freeze."

Inside, the house felt... empty. Not physically—the furniture was all there—but the usual warmth was missing. No garlands draped over the fireplace, no stockings hung with care. Even the Christmas tree in the corner looked half-hearted, as if it knew it wasn't living up to expectations.

Ji-woo sank onto the couch with a weary sigh. "I think I made a mistake moving here."

Hoseok settled into the armchair across from her. "What's going on? Did the Grinch steal your decorations?"

"Worse," she groaned. "The HOA did."

He raised an eyebrow. "They're anti-Christmas now?"

"More like anti-fun. They have all these rules—no colored lights, no inflatable anything, no decorations that could be considered 'tacky' or 'disruptive.' Everything has to be white lights, tastefully arranged. It's like living in a Christmas museum."

"You're kidding," he said, but one look at her face told him she wasn't.

"The kids are miserable," she continued. "Arabella keeps asking why our house doesn't look 'happy' anymore. Maxwell made a protest sign that says 'We Miss Santa' and wants to picket in front of the HOA president's house."

Hoseok couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, he's got your flair for the dramatic."

"Tell me about it," she sighed. "I tried to explain, but how do you tell a seven-year-old that some people think joy is gaudy?"

He leaned forward. "Have you talked to the HOA? Maybe there's a loophole or something."

Ji-woo rolled her eyes. "Oh, I've talked to them. Rachel McDonald and her sidekick Tiffany Wallace run the place like it's their personal kingdom. They're like the Plastics from Mean Girls, but with power suits and a vendetta against colored LEDs."

"Oh, fantastic," Hoseok mumbled. "Mean girls with a homeowners' association to rule. Just what you needed."

Ji-woo laughed without much humor. "It gets better. Rachel's husband, Jeff? He spends his days flirting with the younger moms at the playground, always going on about how he could've gone pro if not for his 'career-ending car accident.' He was the high school football star, and he never lets anyone forget it."

"Let me guess," Hoseok said, already seeing the picture. "He's one of those guys who peaked in high school?"

"Exactly," Ji-woo confirmed. "And he's a total mess. He almost hit one of the Kim siblings—Y/N, the youngest—after a football game. Drives around drunk like he owns the place."

"Wow," Hoseok muttered, a knot forming in his stomach. "And nobody does anything about it?"

"Small towns," Ji-woo sighed, shrugging. "People overlook a lot, especially when it comes to the so-called golden boy. It's infuriating."

Before Hoseok could respond, a high-pitched voice sliced through the air.

"Uncle Hobi!"

A whirlwind of pink pajamas and tangled black hair hurtled across the room, colliding with his legs like a tiny freight train. Hoseok barely had time to steady himself before Maxwell wrapped his arms around him, nearly toppling them both.

"Whoa there, buddy!" Hoseok laughed, ruffling the boy's hair as he crouched down to hug him properly. Maxwell's face beamed up at him, eyes sparkling with pure joy. "How've you been?"

"Good!" Maxwell chirped, bouncing on his toes. "You're staying, right? You can stay forever now!"

Before he could answer, another figure appeared in the doorway—Arabella, her dark eyes casting a skeptical glance toward the window, as if the lackluster holiday lights were a personal affront. She was more reserved than her brother, but when she saw Hoseok, a small smile played at the corner of her mouth.

"Hey, Arabella," Hoseok said gently. "Think I can get a hug from you too?"

She walked over slowly, her steps measured, but when she hugged him, it was warm and sincere. The weight of their little arms around him filled the room with a lightness that hadn't been there moments before.

Just like that, the house felt a little less cold.

They say a watched pot never boils. Turns out, a watched coffee maker isn't in any rush either. Y/N hovered over the machine, silently pleading for it to hurry up—as if her very survival depended on that first cup. And honestly, it did. Without coffee, she was more like a friendly ghost drifting through her own kitchen.

The toaster snapped up with a clatter, launching her bagel into the air. She caught it instinctively, barely registering the motion, and spread a generous layer of garden veggie cream cheese on top. Her eyes kept drifting back to the coffee maker, as if it held all the answers. Finally, it gurgled to a finish, and she poured herself a mug with the kind of reverence usually reserved for sacred ceremonies.

The first sip was bliss—a warm embrace that chased away the lingering fog in her mind. For a moment, everything was peaceful. No second graders vying for attention, no stacks of ungraded papers looming over her. Just her and the coffee, wrapped in a quiet truce with the morning.

But peace was fleeting.

"That car's still there," Taehyung's voice broke the silence, rough and low like gravel underfoot. He shuffled into the kitchen, more bear than man, still tangled in the remnants of sleep. Before his own caffeine fix, Taehyung was best approached with caution.

Y/N took another sip, unfazed. "They pulled in late last night," she replied evenly, not rising to his grumpy bait.

He grunted, grabbed a mug, tore open a packet of Pop-Tarts, and retreated back to his room, a nocturnal creature avoiding the daylight. Y/N smiled to herself, already looking forward to her morning walk—the one slice of the day that was entirely hers. She laced up her sneakers, threw on a jacket, and stepped outside into the gentle hush of their new neighborhood.

Salida was still strange to her, each house a mirror image of the next, every lawn meticulously maintained. It was pleasant enough but felt more like a pit stop than a destination. Taehyung had found them a good deal here, courtesy of his job, and it served its purpose—a temporary escape while they figured out their next move.

She set off on her usual route, the cold air refreshing against her skin. The fog hung low, turning the streets into a watercolor painting of muted grays and soft edges. She let her mind wander, savoring the solitude.

Then she noticed it—a flicker of movement in her peripheral vision. At first, she thought it was a trick of the fog, but there it was again—a figure moving with effortless grace, just enough to catch her eye. Tall and solid, with an athletic stride. One detail snagged her attention more than she'd like to admit: a very, very nice backside.

Y/N felt warmth rise in her cheeks and shook her head, half-amused at herself. Who was that? She didn't recognize him, but then again, she and Taehyung weren't exactly mingling at neighborhood block parties. Taehyung was more invested in keeping tabs on the comings and goings around them—especially since Ji-woo had moved in across the street.

A small smile tugged at her lips as she continued her walk, her heartbeat just a touch quicker than before. The cold nipped at her face, but she hardly noticed. Her thoughts were elsewhere, caught up in that brief, intriguing glimpse.

Would she see him again?

It was a silly thought, and she laughed softly to herself. Still, there was a flutter in her chest—a tiny spark that felt new and welcome. By the time she looped back to the house, her cheeks were flushed, and not just from the cold.

Inside, Taehyung was hunched over his coffee at the kitchen table, looking marginally more awake but no less grumpy.

"What took you so long?" he asked, one eyebrow arched. "And why are you grinning like that?"

She shrugged, aiming for nonchalant. "Just enjoying the morning."

He gave her a skeptical look but didn't press further, muttering something unintelligible as he turned back to his mug.

Y/N just smiled to herself, knowing full well that her morning walks had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.

Hoseok pushed open the front door, a gust of cold air following him inside. His lungs burned pleasantly from his morning run, and despite the sweat cooling on his skin, he felt invigorated. December had painted the world outside in shades of white and silver, but inside, the house was warm and smelled like coffee.

"Uncle Hobi, quiet," a small voice scolded.

He looked down to see Arabella standing there, hands on her tiny hips, clad in bright pink pajamas that were a size too big. Her serious expression was almost comical on such a small face.

"Sorry, Ari," he whispered, grinning. He crouched down to her level, arms open for a hug.

She hesitated. "You're sweaty."

He laughed. "Can't argue with that." But before he could retract his offer, she stepped forward and gave him a quick squeeze, then immediately wrinkled her nose.

"Yuck. You need a shower," she declared, pulling back.

"Noted," he said, raising his hands in surrender.

She toddled off toward the living room, probably to her favorite spot by the Christmas tree—the one that looked a bit forlorn without its usual explosion of lights.

Hoseok headed into the kitchen, where Ji-woo leaned against the counter, a mug cradled in her hands. She raised an eyebrow as he entered.

"You're up early," she remarked.

"Couldn't sleep," he replied, grabbing a glass of water. "Too many thoughts buzzing around."

"Ah," she said, taking a sip. "The infamous Hoseok brainstorm."

He grinned. "I've got an idea."

She eyed him warily. "Should I be concerned?"

"Probably," he admitted. "But hear me out."

She gestured for him to continue but then scrunched up her nose. "Actually, maybe tell me after you've showered."

He feigned offense. "You and Arabella both. Is my post-run glow that unbearable?"

"It's less 'glow' and more 'glisten,'" she teased. "And yes."

He chuckled, backing out of the kitchen. "Fine, I'll cleanse myself of this so-called glisten."

"Thank you," she called after him.

As he climbed the stairs, his mind returned to his plan. The HOA's ban on colorful Christmas lights was the last straw. Arabella's disappointment each time she looked outside was palpable, and it tugged at him more than he'd like to admit.

Maybe if he could convince Ji-woo to take the kids to their parents' house for the holidays, they'd get the festive experience they deserved. And while they were gone, perhaps he could find a way to negotiate with—or outsmart—the HOA.

After a hot shower, he felt more human. The steam had cleared his head, and he dressed quickly, eager to share his thoughts. Back in the kitchen, Ji-woo was scrolling through her phone, a frown creasing her forehead.

"More HOA drama?" he asked, rubbing a towel over his damp hair.

She sighed, setting the phone aside. "They're sending reminders about the 'holiday decor guidelines.' It's like they have a vendetta against joy."

He poured himself a cup of coffee. "That's why I wanted to talk to you."

She looked up, curious. "Oh?"

He took a sip before speaking. "What if you took the kids to Mom and Dad's for Christmas? Let them have the full festive experience without the Grinch HOA ruining it."

She considered this. "I don't know... They were excited to spend Christmas here."

He nodded. "I get that. But here feels... stifled. They can't decorate the way they want. At least at Mom and Dad's, they can go all out."

She traced the rim of her mug with a finger. "I suppose Arabella would love baking with Mom."

"And Maxwell can help Dad set up the train set," Hoseok added.

A small smile played on her lips. "They would enjoy that."

"Plus," he continued, "I can stay here and see if there's any way to reason with the HOA. Maybe find a loophole or two."

She raised an eyebrow. "You and your loopholes."

He shrugged, grinning. "It's a gift."

She laughed softly. "Alright. I'll talk to the kids."

Relief washed over him. "Great. I think it'll be good for all of you."

As she stood to rinse her mug, she glanced at him. "What about you? Spending Christmas alone?"

He waved off her concern. "I'll be fine. Someone's got to hold down the fort."

She gave him a knowing look. "If you say so."

He leaned against the counter, thoughts drifting to the woman he'd seen on his run that morning. There was something about the way she'd moved, the determination in her stride. He found himself hoping their paths might cross again.

Y/N stepped into the house, shaking off the chill from outside. Taehyung's car was parked at an awkward angle in the driveway—a telltale sign of his mood. Inside, she found Namjoon sitting on the edge of the couch, his posture tense but composed. Taehyung paced the length of the living room, agitation rolling off him in waves.

"Hey," she greeted cautiously.

Namjoon looked over, relief flickering in his eyes. "Maybe you can talk some sense into him."

She set her bag down. "What's going on?"

Taehyung stopped mid-pace. "There's a stranger at Ji-woo's house."

Y/N fought the urge to roll her eyes. "You mean her brother?"

He crossed his arms. "We don't know that."

Namjoon sighed. "Tae, we've been over this. Not every new person is a threat."

"But we have to be vigilant," Taehyung insisted. "Especially after everything."

Y/N felt a pang in her chest. "I get it," she said gently. "But maybe we should give people the benefit of the doubt."

He shook his head. "You didn't see the way he was sneaking around."

Namjoon stood up. "How about this—I’ll go over and introduce myself. Invite them to the community Christmas party. If there's anything off, I'll pick up on it."

Taehyung considered this. "Fine. But be careful."

"I always am," Namjoon assured him. He grabbed his coat and headed toward the door. "Y/N, keep an eye on him."

She nodded. "Will do."

After Namjoon left, the room fell into a heavy silence. Taehyung resumed his pacing, though slower this time.

"You okay?" she asked softly.

He shrugged. "Just don't want anything to happen. Not again."

She understood. The past had left its marks on all of them. "I know."

He glanced at her. "You think I'm overreacting."

"I think you're protective," she said. "But sometimes that can come across as... intense."

He managed a small smile. "Understatement of the year."

She returned the smile. "Just try to relax a bit. Maybe focus on something else."

He sat down beside her. "Like what?"

She hesitated, then decided to take a chance. "I've been thinking about volunteering at the youth center's holiday event. Could use an extra pair of hands."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to distract me?"

"Maybe," she admitted. "Is it working?"

He chuckled. "A little."

They sat in comfortable quiet for a moment. Y/N's thoughts drifted to the man she'd seen that morning—the one with the easy smile and kind eyes. She wondered what his story was.

"Earth to Y/N," Taehyung said, waving a hand in front of her face.

She blinked. "Sorry. Zoned out."

"Thinking about your students?"

"Something like that," she replied, not ready to share her musings.

He studied her for a moment. "You seem... different lately."

"Different how?"

He shrugged. "Happier."

She considered this. "Maybe."

"That's good," he said sincerely.

"Thanks." She bumped his shoulder lightly. "See? Not everything is doom and gloom."

He smiled. "I'll try to remember that."

The late afternoon sun streamed through the window, casting everything in a soft, golden hue. Y/N felt a tiny flicker of hope ignite inside her chest. Maybe—just maybe—this Christmas would bring something new, something good.

She glanced over at Taehyung, who was slouched on the couch, half-watching a mindless reality show. He was still brooding, eyebrows knit together in that way that made him look both serious and a little ridiculous.

"So," she said, leaning back and stretching her arms over her head, "do you think Namjoon's going to make it back alive, or should we start assembling a search party?"

Taehyung grunted, eyes never leaving the screen. "Laugh all you want, but when Namjoon returns with the truth, you'll see. Mark my words, Y/N. I'm onto something big."

She hid a smile behind her hand. "Oh, I have no doubt you're onto something."

Life with her brothers was never dull—a constant whirlwind of conspiracies and overreactions. But she wouldn't trade it for anything.

Ji-woo stared at Hoseok like he'd suggested they celebrate Christmas on the moon.

"Absolutely not," she declared, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. "I'm not letting those Stepford wives think they've won."

Hoseok could practically see the steam rising from her. That familiar storm brewing in her eyes—a mix of stubbornness and simmering rage. The HOA drama had pushed her right to the edge, and suggesting they spend the holidays at their parents' place was apparently the final straw.

"Ji, it's just a suggestion," he said gently. "The kids might enjoy—"

"The kids don't want to leave their home for Christmas," she interrupted, her voice firm. "And I am not giving Tiffany Wallace and Rachel McDonald the satisfaction."

He sighed, bracing himself as she launched into a tirade. She recounted every passive-aggressive comment, every forced smile, every time they'd conveniently "forgotten" to inform her about some new HOA rule.

"And can you believe Tiffany had the nerve to ask if I was a lesbian?" Ji-woo fumed, her cheeks flushing. "As if it's any of her business! Probably just so she'd have something juicy to share at her next book club meeting."

Hoseok nodded along, his mind starting to wander. It wasn't that he didn't care—he did—but he'd heard variations of this rant many times before.

"And Rachel," Ji-woo continued, her eyes narrowing. "She looks down her nose at everyone, like she's the queen of this suburban prison."

He was just about to suggest they take a deep breath when a knock sounded at the door. Saved by the bell.

Ji-woo paused, exchanging a curious glance with Hoseok before heading to the door. He followed her, curious.

When she opened it, Namjoon Kim stood on the porch, his usual calm smile in place. He looked every bit the part of the friendly neighborhood fire chief, his uniform crisp and his posture relaxed.

"Captain Kim," Ji-woo greeted, her tone shifting to something warmer. "What brings you by?"

"Evening, Ms. Lee," he replied politely. Hoseok noticed the slight wince his sister gave at the use of her married name, but she recovered quickly.

"I was just over at the Kims'—the other Kims," Namjoon added with a chuckle. "Wanted to make sure you knew about the town Christmas party tonight. It's a big deal around here. Santa, caroling, more cookies than anyone should probably eat."

He handed her a colorful flyer, and Ji-woo's face softened as she took it. "That sounds wonderful. The kids would love it."

Hoseok stepped forward, offering a friendly smile. "Mind if I tag along?"

Namjoon turned to him, eyes widening slightly. "Wait a minute—you’re Hoseok Jung."

Hoseok gave a modest shrug. "Guilty as charged."

Namjoon broke into a grin. "My siblings are huge fans. Heck, I’m a huge fan."

Before Hoseok could respond, a small whirlwind barreled into his legs.

"Uncle Hobi!" Arabella squealed, her Elsa pajamas a blur of blue and sparkles as she hugged him tightly.

He scooped her up, her giggles filling the entryway. "Hey there, princess. Shouldn't you be napping?"

She shook her head vigorously. "Can't sleep. No lights."

Namjoon raised an eyebrow. "No lights?"

Ji-woo sighed. "HOA restrictions. We're not allowed to put up colored lights or inflatables."

"Seriously?" Namjoon's friendly demeanor shifted, a frown creasing his forehead. "That's... unusual."

"That's Tiffany and Rachel," Ji-woo muttered. "They've made it their mission to suck the joy out of the neighborhood."

Hoseok nodded. "Ari loves the colored lights. White ones just aren't the same."

Namjoon looked thoughtful. "Well, that doesn't seem fair. Maybe there's something we can do about that."

Hoseok watched him with interest. There was a quiet determination in Namjoon's eyes, the kind that suggested he wasn't one to let things slide.

"Anyway," Namjoon said, his smile returning as he looked back at Ji-woo. "Hope to see you all at the party tonight. And Hoseok, if you don't mind signing an autograph or two..."

Hoseok laughed. "Not at all. Happy to."

As Namjoon headed back across the street, Hoseok turned to his sister, still holding Arabella in his arms.

"Looks like this town has a few surprises," he remarked.

Ji-woo chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Oh, Namjoon? He's just the beginning. Stick around—you'll see."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

She patted his shoulder as she headed back toward the kitchen. "Trust me. You might even start liking it here."

He watched her go, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Maybe this detour wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Namjoon slammed the front door open, the sound echoing through the quiet house like a sudden clap of thunder. Y/N looked up from her book, startled. It wasn't like Namjoon to make a scene—he was the steady one, the calm one. But today, his face was clouded, eyes sharp and determined.

"Taehyung!" he called, his voice carrying up the stairs with an urgency that made Y/N's heart skip a beat.

There was a muffled crash from upstairs, followed by a groan. Moments later, Taehyung appeared at the top of the staircase, hair tousled and eyes bleary. He rubbed at his face, clearly pulled from a deep sleep.

"What's going on, Joon?" he mumbled, starting down the steps. He didn't seem to notice the tension radiating from his older brother.

Namjoon didn't waste a second. "Do you have any idea what kind of company you work for?" he demanded, pointing out the front window toward Mrs. Lee's house across the street. His voice was tight, controlled—but Y/N could hear the anger simmering beneath the surface.

Taehyung blinked, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Mrs. Lee just told me that Tiffany and Rachel are preventing her from putting up the Christmas decorations her kids love," Namjoon said, each word clipped. "Apparently, the HOA has banned colorful lights and inflatable decorations. Little Ari is heartbroken."

Taehyung frowned, glancing between Namjoon and Y/N. "I don't handle HOA rules," he said slowly. "I'm an architect, not a policy maker."

"But you work for the development company that runs this neighborhood," Namjoon pressed. "Surely you know someone who can do something about this."

Taehyung sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "I mean, I can call Jungkook. He's more involved with that side of things."

"Good," Namjoon said firmly. "Because it's ridiculous that kids can't have Christmas lights because of some overzealous HOA board."

Y/N stood up, hoping to ease the tension. "Maybe it's just a misunderstanding," she offered gently. "HOAs can be tricky with their rules."

Namjoon shook his head. "Whether it's a misunderstanding or not, it needs to be fixed."

Taehyung pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts. "I'll give Jungkook a call," he said, already heading toward the kitchen.

As he disappeared from view, Namjoon let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging. Y/N stepped closer.

"You okay?" she asked softly.

He nodded, but his eyes were still stormy. "I just can't stand the thought of those kids missing out on Christmas because of some pointless rule."

She offered a small smile. "You're a good man, Namjoon."

He gave a half-hearted chuckle. "Don't spread that around."

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the wall.

"By the way," Namjoon said, his tone shifting to something lighter, almost teasing. "I don't think Taehyung realizes who Mrs. Lee's guest is."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Namjoon's eyes sparkled with mischief. "The guy you saw over there this morning? That's Hoseok Jung."

Her mouth fell open. "Wait—the Hoseok Jung? As in the two-time Super Bowl champion?"

He nodded. "The very same."

Y/N felt her cheeks flush, memories of her morning walk flooding back—the tall figure jogging past her, the way he'd moved with effortless grace. She'd noticed him, sure, but she hadn't realized...

"Language, Y/N," Namjoon teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the grin spreading across her face. "I can't believe it. How did I not recognize him?"

"Probably because you were too busy daydreaming," he joked.

"Hardly," she shot back, nudging him playfully. "Besides, he was wearing a hat and sunglasses."

"Excuses, excuses."

Just then, Taehyung re-entered the room, looking exasperated. "Jungkook's in the shower, but his wife said he'll call me back soon."

"Great," Namjoon replied. "We need to get this sorted out."

Taehyung flopped onto the couch, rubbing his temples. "This HOA stuff is such a headache."

Y/N sat beside him. "We haven't really been paying attention to their rules, have we?"

He shrugged. "We put up a tree inside. That's about the extent of our holiday spirit."

Namjoon crossed his arms. "Well, maybe it's time we all got a bit more involved. Can't let a few grinches ruin Christmas for everyone."

Taehyung glanced at Y/N. "What's got him so fired up?"

She smiled softly. "Mrs. Lee's kids can't put up their decorations. Namjoon's on a mission to fix it."

"And Hoseok Jung is staying with her," Namjoon added, watching Taehyung's reaction.

Taehyung looked blank. "Who?"

Y/N laughed. "Only one of the most famous quarterbacks in football."

He raised an eyebrow. "You know I don't follow sports."

Namjoon shook his head in mock disbelief. "Honestly, Tae. Sometimes I wonder how we're related."

Taehyung smirked. "Well, I got the looks."

Y/N groaned. "And the humility."

Their banter eased the remaining tension, a familiar rhythm that brought a sense of normalcy back into the room.

"I'll talk to Jungkook as soon as he calls," Taehyung promised. "We'll figure something out."

"Thanks," Namjoon said sincerely.

Y/N rested a hand on Namjoon's arm. "You're doing a good thing."

He met her gaze, his expression softening. "Just trying to make sure everyone has a good Christmas."

She nodded. "And we appreciate it."

The doorbell rang, surprising them all.

"Expecting someone?" Taehyung asked.

Y/N shook her head. "No."

Namjoon went to answer it, and moments later, he called back, "Hey, Y/N, it's Mrs. Lee!"

Y/N exchanged a curious glance with Taehyung before heading to the door.

Ji-woo stood on the porch, a tentative smile on her face. "Hi, sorry to drop by unannounced."

"Not at all," Y/N replied warmly. "Is everything okay?"

She nodded. "I just wanted to thank you all. Namjoon mentioned you were looking into the HOA situation."

"Of course," Y/N said. "We're happy to help."

Ji-woo hesitated. "Also, I was wondering if you'd like to join us for dinner tomorrow night. Just a small get-together. My brother's in town, and it'd be nice to get to know the neighbors."

Y/N felt that flutter in her chest again. "We'd love to."

"Great," Ji-woo said, her smile growing. "I'll see you then."

As she walked back across the street, Y/N closed the door, leaning against it for a moment.

"Well?" Taehyung prompted.

"We're invited to dinner tomorrow," she said, trying to sound casual.

"Awesome," he said, already heading back to the couch. "Free food."

Namjoon gave her a knowing look. "Sounds like an opportunity."

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide her smile. "Maybe."

"Just don't forget to breathe if you meet your football hero," he teased.

"I'll manage," she retorted.

And as she glanced out the window, catching a glimpse of lights starting to twinkle across the street, she allowed herself to hope.

Hoseok glanced in the rearview mirror of his SUV, catching sight of Maxwell practically vibrating in his car seat. The little guy was a live wire, eyes wide and sparkling like he'd just discovered superheroes were real—and they all wanted to be his best friend.

"Guessing those cookies were rocket fuel," Hoseok chuckled. "Pretty sure bedtime's canceled tonight."

"You're really coming with us to see Santa?" Maxwell asked, his voice tinged with disbelief and a dash of hero worship. It was as if Hoseok had just announced they were flying to the North Pole.

"Wouldn't miss it," Hoseok replied, winking. "Gotta make sure Santa knows what's on my list, too."

"Yes!" Maxwell cheered, pumping his tiny fist in the air. Next to him, Arabella hugged her stuffed penguin a little tighter, her eyes dreamy. "Santa..." she whispered, like the name itself was magic.

Beside him, Ji-woo seemed lighter than she'd been in weeks, a soft smile playing on her lips as she adjusted Arabella's hat. The tension from the HOA drama had eased, at least for tonight.

They drove through streets awash in Christmas lights, the colors reflecting off the windows like a kaleidoscope. When they reached the town square, it was as if they'd stepped into a snow globe. Strings of lights crisscrossed above, a giant tree stood proudly in the center, and the air was filled with the scent of cinnamon and hope.

"Look at all the lights!" Maxwell exclaimed, pressing his nose against the glass. He was out of his seat the moment the car stopped, dragging Arabella toward the promise of candy canes and reindeer.

Hoseok spotted Namjoon across the way, deep in conversation with a guy who looked like he could bench-press a car. The man's gaze lingered a little too long on Ji-woo, and Hoseok felt a protective twinge.

"Glad you all made it," Namjoon called out, his smile warm enough to melt the snow. "Santa's about to arrive. You don't want to miss it."

Maxwell and Arabella needed no further encouragement—they darted off, laughter trailing behind them like footprints.

Namjoon turned to Ji-woo, his expression shifting to something more serious. "We're still waiting to hear from Jungkook about the HOA situation. Don't worry, we're on it."

The big guy next to him nodded. "We'll make sure your kids get their Christmas back," he said earnestly.

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, catching the familiar glint of recognition—and maybe a hint of rivalry—in the man's eyes. He offered a polite smile, keeping his thoughts to himself.

Before any awkwardness could settle in, the jingle of bells filled the air. Santa had arrived, not in a sleigh but in a decked-out pickup truck that somehow felt perfectly fitting. The crowd buzzed with excitement, kids bouncing on their toes.

Leading the procession was an elf with a bounce in her step and... Hoseok did a double take. Was her skirt tucked into her tights? He felt his cheeks heat up as he realized he recognized that particular shade of embarrassment.

That was jogger girl.

She was mortified, her face the color of holly berries as Namjoon discreetly fixed her skirt. She shot him a grateful, exasperated look. "Thanks, Joon," she mumbled.

"You're killing me, kid," he replied, shaking his head but smiling fondly.

Their eyes met for just a second—just long enough for Hoseok to catch that flicker of recognition, and maybe a bit of horror, in Y/N’s expression. He offered a small, sympathetic smile, the kind that says, It’s fine. We all have moments like this.

Pushing past whatever had unsettled her, Y/N fixed her elf hat and raised her voice, unwavering and bright, “Who’s ready to see Santa?”

A chorus of kids shouted back, “We are!” and just like that, everything felt easier. Arabella, looking serious and determined, walked straight up to Santa and climbed onto his lap without waiting for a nod or a smile. Santa seemed surprised but took it in stride.

“Well, hello there,” he said, steadying her. “What’s your name?”

“Arabella.” She paused, as if making sure he was paying attention. “I want our lights back.”

He blinked. “Your lights?”

“Our Christmas lights,” she explained. “The colorful ones that make our house happy.”

Hoseok felt a tightening in his chest. Arabella always got right to the point. No dancing around what mattered most.

Y/N stepped forward, her voice gentle, “Maybe Santa can help,” she suggested, meeting Hoseok’s eyes for a moment before turning back to Santa.

“Maybe I can,” Santa agreed, handing Arabella a small gift. She took it solemnly, thanked him, and slid off his lap. “Don’t forget,” she reminded him quietly as she walked back.

Ji-woo knelt down to Arabella’s level. “Do you want to open it now?” she asked.

Arabella shook her head firmly. “Max,” she said, making it clear she’d wait for her brother.

“Max, get over here!” Hoseok called, spotting Maxwell still chatting away with Santa, rattling off a mile-long wish list. Max finally darted over, breathless and grinning, and tore into his own present: a Lego police helicopter set. His eyes went huge, and he practically vibrated with excitement, already planning how he’d build it the second they got home.

Arabella, satisfied that her brother was taken care of, carefully unwrapped her gift. Inside was a plush Rudolph with a glowing red nose. Her serious expression softened. She held it up for them to see, then patted the ground beside her. “Read,” she insisted.

Hoseok didn’t hesitate. He sat right down on the cold pavement and took the little storybook that came with Rudolph. His voice was low and comforting as he read aloud. Everyone around them seemed to settle, leaning in, as if drawn by the warm circle of sound he created. Y/N found herself smiling. There he was, Hoseok—star athlete, local hero—sitting cross-legged in the town square, reading Christmas stories to a little girl who trusted him completely.

Arabella climbed into his lap without a second thought. He adjusted the book, making sure she stayed cozy. This wasn’t some perfect holiday postcard scene; it was just… real. Hoseok had a soft spot for his family. Watching him like this made Y/N’s heart ache in a sweet, unexpected way.

Namjoon, standing beside her, watched too. Pride and tenderness shone through his normally reserved gaze. He might look like the kind of guy who’d keep you at arm’s length, but around family, he melted. Y/N nudged him with her elbow, smiling. “If you keep staring, you’ll turn into a puddle.”

Namjoon chuckled quietly. “Can you blame me? That’s some top-tier uncle behavior.”

Y/N laughed. “You should be taking notes.”

“I am,” he said, straight-faced, which made her laugh again.

Meanwhile, Santa—Seth, actually—wandered off, muttering something about needing an ice pack, looking as if he’d just run a marathon instead of meeting kids all day. Y/N shook her head, amused, and headed back toward Namjoon and Ji-woo.

Namjoon kept half an eye out for Taehyung, who’d disappeared earlier. Taehyung had been trying to reach Jungkook about the HOA mess and the banned Christmas lights. Just then, Taehyung returned, looking both frustrated and determined.

“B’s livid,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “She’s got a lawyer looking into the HOA’s charter.”

Ji-woo sighed, glancing over at Arabella curled up with Hoseok. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Taehyung leaned in, lowering his voice. “Apparently the ban on colored lights was voted in by the homeowners after the fact. But if it was voted in, it can be voted out too.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Five bucks says Tiff and Rachel orchestrated the whole thing. They never let anyone just live their lives without making it about their rules.”

Namjoon’s mouth twitched, annoyed. “If those two are involved, there’s no shortage of shady behavior.”

Around them, the square glowed with holiday lights, kids played with new toys, and Hoseok’s voice continued steady and clear, reading to Arabella. It all felt unexpectedly warm and meaningful. If they had to go head-to-head with a cranky HOA to keep this feeling, so be it.

Hoseok’s voice carried over to them, calm and thoughtful. “If it was voted in, it can be voted out, right?” he asked, looking at Taehyung. Arabella’s head rested trustingly against him, her Rudolph still glowing.

Taehyung sighed. “Yeah, but it requires seventy-five percent approval. And we don’t have voting rights. We never got around to joining the HOA officially, and even if we did now, we wouldn’t be able to vote until next year.”

Y/N frowned. “Why didn’t I know about these votes? I never saw a single notice.”

Taehyung shrugged. “We bought early on. The HOA was still forming. And we don’t use their services—we handle our own lawn care—so we don’t get their updates. The other houses get lawn care and newsletters. We’re sort of on the outside.”

Y/N shot him a look. “Not everyone has the time to peek through blinds and track the neighbors’ every move, Tae.”

Namjoon cut in gently, “Play nice,” his voice carrying that quiet authority that ended squabbles before they started.

Taehyung cleared his throat. “Anyway, we don’t have standing to vote right now.”

Hoseok leaned back, thinking it through, his brow furrowing. “If we’re not part of it, are we even bound by their rules?” he asked.

Taehyung hesitated. “Technically, no. But I’m in a tricky position. Jungkook’s my friend and my boss. I’m supposed to follow the spirit of the rules, set a good example.”

Y/N noticed the determined light in Hoseok’s eyes. He’d just had an idea—that look said as much. And once Hoseok had a plan, he didn’t give up easily.

He straightened up carefully, making sure not to jostle Arabella as she slept against him, and then locked eyes with Taehyung. “I get it—you want to set a good example. But just hear me out. I think I’ve got an idea.”

Taehyung stiffened, like he already knew where this was going. “Hoseok, if this is about—”

“Let him talk,” Y/N said, her voice gentle but steady. “There’s no harm in listening.”

Taehyung exchanged a quick, resigned glance with Y/N—then with Ji-woo—and finally let out a sigh. “Fine. I’ll listen. No promises, though.”

Ji-woo gave Taehyung’s arm a light squeeze, an encouraging smile softening the tension. “Thanks. Sometimes his ideas are… a lot. But you never know, this one might actually be good.”

A small group of neighbors had drifted closer, curious eyes and quiet whispers surrounding them. Hoseok stood there, holding his niece like it was the most natural thing in the world, radiating a calm confidence that felt comforting, even to Y/N. He seemed so at home right here, right now, as if he’d been part of their crowd from the very start.

Hoseok glanced over at Maxwell, who was practically sleepwalking on his feet. “Maybe we should get these two home?” he suggested to Ji-woo, tilting his head toward the sleepy kids.

Ji-woo nodded right away, ushering them forward. “Yes. Let’s move this party back home.”

As they headed down the street, Hoseok shot Y/N a quick wink. It was casual, but it lit a tiny spark in the cold air. Taehyung noticed, of course, and let out a barely contained huff.

“That wink,” he grumbled, as if it might be the first domino in a chain of questionable decisions. Y/N could see that something about Hoseok got under Taehyung’s skin in a way he wouldn’t admit. She bumped his shoulder lightly.

“Relax, Tae,” she teased. “It’s just a wink.”

But Taehyung’s brow stayed knitted. “We’ll see,” he muttered.

Back in Ji-woo’s living room, the mood was tense despite the cozy lamps and the warm hum of the fireplace. Namjoon stood firmly in Hoseok’s corner, championing every idea Hoseok tossed out—like challenging the HOA or rallying the neighbors for a vote. Taehyung tried to get a word in, but every time he did, Namjoon countered with all the reasons they had to fight. He even suggested calling Jimin, their cousin who was the town sheriff, if things turned messy. It was a whole parade of big personalities with strong opinions, and Taehyung looked ready to pop.

Sitting curled up in her favorite armchair, Y/N decided it was time to mediate. “Joon, we hear you,” she said, leveling her gaze at him before looking at Taehyung. “But let’s give Taehyung some space to explain his side. And what if we ask Jungkook and Blair to weigh in too? If they back this plan, maybe Taehyung will feel better.”

Taehyung’s relief was almost tangible. “Yes—please. Call Jungkook and Blair. If we get them on board, I can at least know we’re not going rogue.”

He shot Hoseok an apologetic look. “I know you’ve got to get back to Denver soon,” he said, trying to sound casual but clearly feeling guilty. “I don’t want to mess with your playoff prep. I get that the kids should have a great Christmas. I just need you to understand my side.”

Y/N snorted, unable to resist teasing him a bit. “Tae, you’re sounding so diplomatic I’m waiting for Mr. Berty from fourth grade to show up and give you a gold star.” When Taehyung subtly flipped her the bird, she stifled a giggle.

Sighing dramatically, Taehyung relented. “Okay, fine. I’ll call Jungkook. Blair’s usually the easier sell, anyway.”

Namjoon nodded briskly, making a hurry-up motion. “Don’t just stand there. Make the call.”

Taehyung eyed the clock. “It’s after nine, bro. Isn’t this late?”

Namjoon smirked. “Jungkook doesn’t sleep before midnight, and Blair’s like a wind-up toy that never stops. They’ll pick up.”

With a low groan, Taehyung disappeared into the kitchen, phone already ringing. His muttering faded into the next room.

With him gone, Y/N decided it was time to shift gears. “The kids had such a blast tonight,” she said softly, hoping to ease the tension. “Arabella’s practically welded to that Rudolph, and Max… I mean, good luck getting him to think about anything besides that helicopter set now.”

Ji-woo’s expression warmed. “I’m just glad they had fun. Poor Santa Seth, though. He looked wiped out.”

Namjoon laughed. “Don’t worry about Seth. Beth’s probably got him on a steady regimen of ice packs and hot chocolate. That man’s taken bigger hits. Kids can be ruthless.”

Hoseok chimed in, his tone curious. “I saw there was a food drive. Is there a big need around here?”

Namjoon’s easygoing demeanor faded slightly as he explained. “It’s better now than a few years ago, but this place took a hit. The mill closed down some lines, people lost jobs. Recovery’s slow. Especially this time of year.”

Y/N nodded, voice quieter. “Lots of families are on the edge. You’d be surprised how many work full-time but still can’t get by. I’ve volunteered at the food bank. People slip through the cracks.”

Hoseok’s brow creased thoughtfully. “That’s awful. Every place I’ve played, I try to give back. My old coach used to say, ‘They show up for us, we show up for them.’ It stuck with me.”

A small smile tugged at Y/N’s lips. “Your coach sounds like a good person.”

Hoseok grinned. “One of the best. He’d ream me out after a bad game, but he never missed a chance to remind me what really mattered.”

Ji-woo laughed. “When he got drafted, I’m not sure who cried more—Coach or Dad.”

Just then, Taehyung reappeared. He looked relieved—less tense around the eyes. “Blair says they’ll be here tomorrow after five. Her dad’s visiting—first holiday without her mom—so they’re hosting him, but they’ll swing by.”

Namjoon raised his eyebrows. “Walter Reid’s a big name. When he weighs in, people listen.”

Y/N leaned over, giving Taehyung a quick side hug, feeling the unspoken weight he’d been carrying. “You’ve done everything you can.”

Namjoon nodded approvingly. “You did good, Tae.”

Ji-woo and Hoseok nodded too, their quiet solidarity reassuring him. And Taehyung, for the first time that night, allowed himself a long, steady breath and a small, hopeful smile. Maybe this Christmas would turn out all right after all.

The next evening, Jungkook and Blair Jeon showed up, each of them so strikingly different that Y/N’s head spun a little just looking at them. Jungkook was tall, solid as a cedar, with neatly combed black hair and eyes so warm and steady they felt like a campfire you could settle around for hours. He was the kind of person who didn’t waste words—he only spoke when it counted, and when he did, everyone leaned in.

Blair, meanwhile, was all sparks and fizz—blonde curls that bounced with every step, bright blue eyes that darted around the room, making sure she never missed a thing. She didn’t have to say a word to shift the energy; her presence alone brightened corners that had been dull five seconds ago. Even with their differences, it was clear they both cared fiercely, like they shared a quiet agreement: kindness first, always.

And then there was Walter Reid, Blair’s father, who seemed to take up more space than he actually occupied. He was tall and broad, his silver hair perfect, his face etched with lines that said he’d lived through more than anyone else in the room. He didn’t bother with unnecessary smiles. He didn’t need them—his eyes said he could see right through every half-truth and polite lie.

As Y/N explained the plan to bring back the Christmas lights that the HOA had so rudely snuffed out, Walter watched silently, his gaze like a judge’s final verdict waiting to be delivered. Ji-woo flipped through old photos, spreading them like evidence on a coffee table: once upon a time, this neighborhood had shimmered in December. Now, thanks to a few power-hungry board members, it looked like Christmas had decided to skip town.

Blair was practically hopping with frustration. “I’m telling you, Tiffany and Rachel are behind this,” she said, jabbing a photo as if it might give in and confess. Y/N nodded, unsurprised. Tiffany Wallace and Rachel McDonald were the type who wanted things their way and never bothered to pretend otherwise.

Hoseok stood beside Y/N, noticing—despite his best efforts—how good she looked in that cozy sweater and jeans. He tried to refocus, to catch up on whatever Walter and Blair were discussing. But it was hard when Y/N looked so at ease here, like this room and these people and these problems were all part of some soft tapestry he’d just been invited into.

“Babygirl, let me see those charter amendments,” Walter said to Blair, voice low and gravelly. Blair handed over the papers, still scowling. Walter’s eyes skimmed the text. “Recent changes,” he murmured. “Voted in by a slim majority. That means it wouldn’t take much to push them back out.”

Jungkook leaned in, nodding. “We just need the neighbors on board. Half of them probably don’t even know the rules changed. If we show them what’s going on, we could turn this thing around.”

Blair’s mood shifted from fury to determination in a flash. “Then that’s what we do,” she said, clapping her hands. “We bring them all in. We light the match.”

Y/N smiled, relieved. “We’ll organize a meeting. Show them they have a choice. People want Christmas back—they just need to believe they can have it.”

Hoseok grinned too, leaning forward, his voice warm. “I can help. I mean, I’ve got a few fans who might show up if it means Christmas lights and a selfie or two.”

Y/N glanced his way, heart feeling unexpectedly full. He wanted to be part of this, part of her world. It was a small thing—just lights, really—but something about the way he jumped right in touched her.

Walter eyed them all, unmoved, as if still deciding if this fight was worth the trouble. “What’s this got to do with me?” he asked flatly.

“Daddy, it’s not right,” Blair repeated, for maybe the hundredth time that night, each time with the exact same fierce conviction.

Jungkook rested a calming hand on her shoulder. “Let your dad take a look, Blair. We need his advice.”

Blair huffed, but she let Walter read. He turned pages with the careful patience of a man who’d picked apart trickier contracts in his time. When he finally spoke, his words were measured: “If you go public, you might draw attention you don’t want. The media could twist this. Make the HOA look like victims. Could complicate other projects in the pipeline.”

Blair looked ready to explode. “Who would side with the HOA?” she demanded, incredulous.

Walter’s gaze shifted to Hoseok, and this time his tone was almost fatherly. “You’re not just any guy off the street, kid. You’re a Seahawk. Your team’s PR isn’t going to love seeing you in a local tug-of-war.”

Hoseok grimaced, realizing Walter had a point. “I’ll check with them,” he said, sounding reluctant.

A tense hush settled over the room until Namjoon stepped out quietly. When he returned, he had Arabella in his arms, half-asleep and clinging to Rudolph. Y/N shot him a questioning look, but Namjoon just smiled and walked over to Walter.

“This is Ari,” he said softly. “Ari, meet Mr. Reid.”

Arabella blinked, clutching her Rudolph and peering at Walter with big, curious eyes. She gave him a tiny wave, all quiet courage and bedtime drowsiness.

Namjoon set her down next to the photos. Arabella, so serious for someone so small, pointed at the pictures. “Lights,” she said firmly, “Santa. Fix. Please.”

You could almost see Walter’s armor crack. He let out a weary sigh, running a hand through his silver hair. “Oh hell. Fine. Just keep it low-key, all right?”

Namjoon’s grin could have lit up a stadium. “Thank you,” he said, clapping Walter on the shoulder. Walter rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement there. “I knew you wouldn’t say no,” Namjoon teased lightly. “Marine training teaches you how to get results.”

Arabella squealed, hugging Namjoon’s leg. Y/N let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Maybe things were still complicated, and maybe they’d have to tread carefully. But at least they had a green light. At least they weren’t alone.

Hoseok’s eyes found Y/N again. He liked the way her smile looked in the soft lamplight. Liked that he was seeing her not just as some passing figure in his off-season life, but as someone he wanted to know more deeply. There was a story beginning here—one that he hoped they’d have time to tell.

Later that night, Y/N stood on her front lawn, arms folded over her coat, taking it all in. The new decorations weren’t over-the-top, but they were just enough. An eight-foot inflatable Santa beamed merrily at the snow, and multicolored lights wound around the porch and windows like cheerful ribbons. The whole place glowed. Across the street, Arabella pressed her hands and nose against the window, eyes gone huge with delight. Y/N smiled, feeling a tiny spark inside her chest—this was Christmas at its best, all bright colors and gentle wonder, nothing more complicated than a kid’s joy.

Walter had already taken off back to Denver, warning Y/N to brace for any fallout. But Y/N wasn’t worried. She knew how small towns worked: people loved their drama soft and manageable, like a soap opera they could switch off after dinner. Tiffany and Rachel would probably have plenty to say, but real consequences? She doubted it. If anything, it would all just turn into good old-fashioned grocery aisle gossip.

Inside, she could hear laughter drifting in from the living room. By the time she slipped back in, Blair had commandeered the couch—three glasses of wine deep—and was grinning at the ceiling like it had just told her the best joke in the world. Y/N had barely shut the door when Blair’s voice floated through the room, slurred and enthusiastic:

“He’s hot. You should totally tap that.”

Y/N stumbled, wide-eyed, nearly dropping her keys. “I’m sorry, what now?”

Blair rolled her head toward Y/N, eyes sparkling with a wine-soaked confidence. “Hoseok Jung!” she repeated, waving a hand dramatically. “Girl, hop on that train. Enjoy the ride.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flare with heat. Blair’s bluntness wasn’t new, but this was... a lot. “Blair,” she sputtered, trying for stern and failing. “He’s leaving tomorrow. He’s got a life in Denver, and I have classes. It’s not exactly a meet-cute that’s going to last, okay?”

“Ugh, whatever,” Blair said, swiping the air dismissively. “You can teach and have a life. And if he’s half as good in bed as he is on the field, you’re basically signing up for fireworks.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped. She glanced around as if the furniture might be judging her. “Blair!” she hissed, but a laugh slipped out despite her best efforts.

Blair smirked, taking another sip of her “truth juice.” “Oh, come on. After that jerk Garrett took off with Kate, don’t you think you deserve a little... holiday cheer? I’m not suggesting you run away and elope, just... sample the goods. I saw the way Hoseok looked at you.”

Y/N snatched at Blair’s wineglass, but Blair evaded with surprising agility for someone so tipsy. “I think you’ve had enough,” Y/N said, breathlessly, cheeks still warm.

Blair raised a brow, wiggling it like some kind of cartoon villain. “Don’t try to silence me. You know I’m right. You’ve been Miss Responsible for way too long. Let your hair down. Have fun. Specifically, have fun with a hot football player who’s clearly into you.”

Y/N let out a disbelieving laugh, reaching again for the glass. This time Blair conceded with a playful sigh, handing it over. “Fine, fine,” Blair said, leaning back like a starlet. “But remember my words when you’re old and gray: truth flows from the grapes.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, still smiling as she set the wine on the counter. But just as quickly as she dismissed Blair’s teasing, Hoseok’s face floated into her mind. She could picture him so clearly—his easy grin, the way he’d settled on the floor to read to Arabella, how natural he’d looked in this little world that wasn’t his. And, okay, yes... that spark in his eyes when he’d looked her way.

She closed her eyes for a second, trying to talk herself down. He was leaving tomorrow. Their lives were galaxies apart. He was... famous, for crying out loud. And she was a teacher with a comfortable, ordinary life. It’s just a silly crush, she told herself. A harmless holiday daydream.

From the couch, Blair’s voice drifted lazily: “I saw that look! You’re into him.”

Y/N huffed a laugh, flicking off the kitchen light and grabbing a blanket. She returned to the living room and draped it over Blair’s shoulders. “Go to sleep, B,” she said softly.

Blair’s eyes fluttered half-closed, a grin still tugging at her lips. Y/N watched her friend settle into a dozy contentment. The room fell quiet, the only sounds a distant car on a snowy street and the soft hum of the heater. For a moment, it felt like the whole house was holding its breath.

Y/N sank onto the edge of the recliner, hugging a throw pillow to her chest. She tried to imagine what tomorrow would feel like. Hoseok would head back to Denver, back to his team, his life. She’d keep teaching, keep living in this small town full of neighborly squabbles and cozy holiday traditions. Was there a chance something could cross the space between them?

Probably not. But it sure was nice to think about—even if only for tonight. It made her feel warm, a little bit braver, and just maybe, a tiny bit closer to the kind of magic that made ordinary people do extraordinary things.

Hoseok couldn’t get Y/N out of his head. It was like his mind had just grabbed onto the memory of her laugh and refused to let go. The way her grin tilted when she teased her brother, that quick, light-in-her-eyes smile—it all played on a loop behind his eyelids whenever he blinked. Plus, the way she moved, so confident and at ease, made him feel like some eager understudy watching a lead he was dying to impress.

And now, there she was, standing in her front yard, facing down two furious blondes as if they were yapping dachshunds trying to nip at her ankles. He could practically see the invisible line she’d drawn—You shall not pass!—and it made him grin. She looked fierce and steady, even as Blair, three glasses of wine in, half-waltzed, half-wobbled behind her, sloshing red liquid in dangerous arcs.

Inside, Ji-woo hovered near the window, hand poised over the curtain like she wanted to intervene but wasn’t sure if she should. Hoseok got it. Ji-woo had seen enough drama in her life, and from what he understood, some scars still felt fresh. She wasn’t big on conflict, not anymore.

“I’ll go,” Hoseok said, shrugging into his jacket. He could feel Ji-woo’s relief before she even answered. He’d offered partly to help Y/N, partly because he was, let’s face it, pretty smitten, and partly because he just hated seeing Y/N out there alone, dealing with what looked suspiciously like Mean Girls: Christmas Edition.

“Are you sure?” Ji-woo asked, voice low. She bit her lip, glancing out at the scene.

“Yeah,” Hoseok said simply. “I kind of got them into this. The least I can do is back them up.”

He stepped into the chilly night and caught the tail end of the blondes’ complaints. One waved a piece of paper at Y/N, like it was a holy writ and not just a crumpled memo. Blair was still in the background, humming something off-key and offering her wine bottle to an inflatable Santa.

Y/N sighed, exasperated. “Blair, maybe it’s time to go inside.”

Before Blair could respond, she spotted Hoseok like he was the second coming of Christmas. “There he is!” she crowed, pointing. “Hoseok Jung, Y/N! You gotta tap that ass, girl!”

Hoseok nearly choked on a laugh, managing to keep a straight face with heroic effort. He plastered on his best “professional athlete” smile—confident, friendly, utterly unbothered by chaos—and stepped beside Y/N. “Evening, ladies,” he said, voice low and calm. “Is there a problem here?”

The shorter blonde’s eyes went cartoon-wide. “Oh my god, you’re Hoseok Jung!” she squealed, as if she’d just met a unicorn holding a stack of Super Bowl tickets. The other blonde—taller, more scowly—floundered for a moment, caught between annoyance and fangirl bewilderment.

“Yes, that’s me,” he said, tucking his hands in his jacket pockets like it was no big deal. He nodded toward the decorations, the twinkling lights that had caused all this fuss. “My sister lives across the street. Y/N and her friends put these up for her kids. It’s Christmas—just trying to bring a little cheer.”

The taller blonde, Rae, tried to hold onto her scowl but ended up somewhere between a grimace and a pained smile. “They still break HOA rules,” she grumbled, but her tone had lost its teeth.

Hoseok tilted his head, the very picture of reasonable concern. “Y/N doesn’t belong to the HOA, though, right?” he said mildly. “Seems like a misunderstanding. Maybe you could schedule a meeting? I’m heading back to Denver, but Monday’s my day off. I’d be happy to join a neighborhood discussion. Clear the air.”

The blondes exchanged a look that said: We just got invited to a party with a celebrity. Rae cleared her throat. “Monday at seven might work,” she conceded.

“Perfect,” Hoseok said, with a smile so genuine it could’ve warmed a glacier. The shorter blonde sighed dreamily. Rae just nodded, all her bravado melted like butter on hot toast.

Behind them, Blair muttered something triumphant—something involving “bitches” and “booyah”—then promptly leaned against Santa, trying to give him a taste of her wine.

When the blondes drifted off, possibly to brag about their Monday meeting with Hoseok Jung, he turned to Y/N. “Need a hand with Blair?” he asked, already moving to steady her.

Y/N gave him a grateful, lopsided smile. “Please. She’s on a roll tonight.”

Hoseok scooped Blair up like a rowdy toddler and carried her toward the house, Blair giggling and whispering nonsense about quarterbacks and “naughty Santa” in his ear. The whole scene felt like a snapshot from a cozy indie movie—Christmas lights glowing soft around them, warm laughter inside, and Y/N at his side, her eyes dancing with amusement.

Once inside, he deposited Blair gently on the couch. Y/N straightened a bit, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks,” she said softly, arms folding across her chest. “She’s great, but... a handful when she’s had too much wine.”

He laughed, leaning against the doorframe. “I’ve seen worse tailgate parties,” he teased. “She’s entertaining.”

Y/N watched her friend burrow into the couch cushions, still clutching the wine bottle as if it were a cherished teddy bear, then turned back to him. Her expression had changed—softened, relaxed. “I guess I owe you one,” she said.

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, grinning. “I think we’re even. But I’ll keep the ‘tap my ass’ suggestion on the table,” he added, voice low and playful.

Y/N flushed pink and let out a scandalized laugh. “I can’t believe she said that,” she groaned, hiding her face in her hand for a second.

He shrugged, eyes never leaving hers. “She’s not entirely wrong,” he said, pretending to examine the lights on the wall. “I am pretty tappable, from what I hear.”

She rolled her eyes, giving his arm a gentle, playful shove. “You’re trouble, Jung.”

“Good trouble,” he countered, quiet and sure, something warm slipping into his tone.

In that moment, the world outside seemed to vanish. It was just the two of them in the soft glow of the Christmas lights, Blair’s faint snores in the background, and the distant hum of small-town life wrapping around them like a cozy scarf. Maybe he’d be back in Denver soon, and maybe they lived in different spheres. But right now, Y/N was right here in front of him, and he was more than happy to be a little trouble in her world.

With Blair sound asleep and softly snoring, Y/N suddenly realized something crucial: she was alone with Hoseok. The very Hoseok who’d heard Blair, in her infinite drunken wisdom, tell her to “tap that ass.” Fantastic. Just the scenario you dream of, right?

The air felt charged, like the hush after a good joke and right before everyone breaks into laughter. Y/N tried to find her footing in what always comforted her—simple hospitality. “Want something to drink?” she blurted, her voice coming out way too eager, like she was offering a lifeboat instead of a beverage.

Hoseok smiled, and there was just a hint of mischief in it. “Beer?” he suggested, eyebrows raised like he was testing her.

“Beer. Right. Coming up,” she said, grateful for something to do besides melt on the spot. She practically darted into the kitchen. “Is Corona okay?” she called, relieved to be behind the open fridge door, where he couldn’t see her flushed cheeks.

“Got a lime?” he asked, voice smooth enough to make her heart skip twice.

“Yeah, from taco night,” she said, rummaging around. “Taehyung’s obsessed with the whole lime-and-Corona thing. I think it makes him feel like he’s on some tropical beach, instead of here where the big excitement is a holiday HOA debate.” She rolled her eyes at herself, then handed him the bottle and wedge of lime.

“Nothing wrong with pretending,” Hoseok said, leaning against the counter. His gaze followed her movements so closely that she almost felt like a painting he was admiring. “So… you and Taehyung—twins?”

Y/N laughed as she twisted open her own soda. “Not quite. We’re a year apart. People at school called us the ‘Kim twins’ anyway. He’s tall and broad, and I’m built like my halmeoni. Still, I grew up hearing, ‘Oh, you must be Taehyung’s sister!’ which was my personal favorite.”

Hoseok smiled, something soft and understanding there. “My family’s scattered everywhere. Mom and Dad are in England right now, visiting my uncle. I’m grateful we all stay connected, even if it’s at weird distances.”

Y/N couldn’t help a grin. “Did you pack tights for the trip?” she teased, recalling something about England and stadium traditions—though maybe that was rugby.

He snorted, eyes crinkling. “The closest I have are my uniform pants. Not quite the same look.”

Uniform pants. Y/N’s thoughts took a brief, traitorous journey to how Hoseok probably looked in those uniform pants, and she nearly choked on her soda. Perfect timing, Blair mumbled something incomprehensible from the couch, followed by a muttered “Biotch,” and Hoseok burst into laughter so warm it filled the entire kitchen.

Y/N shook her head, fond but exasperated. “This is mild for her. Last time she hit the tequila, we found her on the roof trying to talk the moon down for a midnight chat. She was, um… not clothed.”

Hoseok’s laughter turned breathless, forcing him to set down his beer. “You’re kidding.”

Y/N held up her hands. “Swear. We got her down eventually, but not before she tried to sing a love ballad to a very startled raccoon.”

They both laughed, but then the mood shifted slightly as Y/N’s smile took on a sympathetic tilt. “This year’s been tough for her. First Christmas without her mom, plus they’re trying to start a family. I think it all just hit her tonight.”

Hoseok’s expression turned gentle, the understanding deepening. “Life sneaks up on you sometimes.”

A soft hush settled between them, a moment that felt more meaningful than anything they’d said. The twinkling Christmas lights in the other room cast a friendly glow, and Y/N wondered if this was how new memories formed—quietly, unexpectedly, in small-town kitchens while someone snored on the couch.

She cleared her throat, feeling the moment tiptoe toward something more intense. “Another beer?” she offered, holding the fridge door open like a shield.

Hoseok shook his head. “One’s enough. I try not to drink too much during the season. Gotta keep my focus.”

“Right, football and all,” Y/N said, stepping back and finding him suddenly closer—so close, in fact, that the scent of him was all warm fabric and subtle cologne. She almost squeaked in surprise but managed to keep it together.

Her breath caught as their eyes met, and suddenly he was there, right there, tilting his head so their faces nearly touched. If she’d wanted to move back, she couldn’t have—she was drawn in, completely, like gravity had decided this exact moment was too perfect to resist.

Then he kissed her. A soft, searching kiss that felt like a secret spoken aloud for the first time. She melted into it, her hands curving over his chest, feeling the heat of him through his sweater. His arms found her waist, and the gentle tension between them turned into something bright and urgent. She barely registered when he lifted her onto the counter, their breaths mingling, his kisses trailing softly down her neck, sending electric sparks skittering beneath her skin.

It was quiet and magical and everything she never knew she wanted at that exact second—until the clomping sound of boots in the hallway snapped her back to reality.

“Hey, Y/N, we got any food?” Taehyung’s voice drifted in, casual and clueless, like a bowling ball striking pins of romantic tension.

They pulled apart as if someone had flipped a switch. Y/N’s heart hammered in her chest, and Hoseok’s eyes were still dark and a little dazed. They stared at each other, caught in the aftermath of a perfect, impossible moment.

Taehyung’s footsteps got louder, heading their way. Y/N’s heart sank and soared at the same time. She shot Hoseok a look that said, We are so busted, and tried to smooth her hair, tried to pretend she wasn’t just thoroughly kissing a very famous, very attractive quarterback on her kitchen counter.

As Taehyung popped into view, Y/N forced a bright, shaky smile. But inside, a thousand thoughts danced and collided: He’s leaving soon, we barely know each other, what just happened, what does this mean, oh god oh god oh god.

She met Hoseok’s gaze one more time, and there was that spark again, a promise unspoken. Y/N swallowed hard, knowing her heart might never be the same.

After the kiss—that one kiss that had nearly knocked the air right out of Hoseok’s lungs—it was all he could think about. The memory of Y/N’s lips on his, the way she fit so perfectly against him, how the world had narrowed down to just the two of them… It was like stepping into a lightning storm and being thrilled instead of terrified. Now he was back in Denver, and it felt unreal. Had it been a dream? The more he replayed it, the more he wondered if she was slipping from tangible reality into wistful memory.

He hadn’t seen her since. Not once. He hadn’t even gotten her number—who did that in this day and age? It wasn’t until Monday, as he was sitting behind the wheel, driving back into the heart of Salida, that he realized how much was still unsaid. He’d told himself the HOA meeting was what drew him back, but deep down he knew better. He was here because of her, because he needed to know if that kiss had spun her world off its axis the way it had spun his.

Pulling into Ji-woo’s driveway, he couldn’t help but look straight across the street at the Kims’ house. Twinkling lights decorated the front yard in a way that seemed to laugh at the stuffy HOA rules. Arabella spotted him from the porch and let out a squeal that lit up her entire face—her delight so real and honest it warmed him from the inside out. Family was why he’d returned; he reminded himself of that. But even as he swept Arabella into a bear hug, laughing as she pointed excitedly at the lights, his mind drifted to another face entirely.

Ji-woo caught his eye, smirking just a little, like she knew exactly what was going on in that head of his. “She’s been waiting for you,” she said, voice light, but her tone held a deeper note—an understanding, maybe even approval.

Arabella waved at the lights, riled up with holiday glee. “Uncle Hobi, lights!” she insisted, as if he hadn’t noticed them glowing in the twilight.

“That’s right, kiddo,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “And I’m gonna do my best to make sure they stay right where they are.” Arabella’s grin was like a stamp of approval all on its own. Still, his mind kept wandering, drifting across the street, wondering if Y/N was inside right now, maybe looking out the window, remembering their last encounter the way he did.

He tried to ground himself with small talk. “Did you catch the game yesterday?” he asked Arabella, fully aware of her likely answer.

“No ball!” she announced primly, wrinkling her nose like football was the lamest invention ever. Hoseok chuckled and set her down, just in time to see a familiar Kia pulling into the Kims’ driveway.

Y/N stepped out, looking effortlessly put together in grey slacks and a soft pink sweater, a black coat draped over her arm. She moved with a kind of quiet grace that made Hoseok’s heart skip. From the way she carried herself, to the gentle curve of her smile—he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“Hey, neighbors!” she called, voice ringing softly through the crisp air. “Ready for tonight?” There was that easy warmth to her tone, the slightest lift at the end like an invitation.

Hoseok tried for nonchalance, even as his pulse fluttered. “Looking forward to it,” he said, hoping he sounded as smooth as he was trying to be.

Her gaze lingered on him a heartbeat longer than necessary. “If you want to come by beforehand, Tae’s making pizza, and I’ve got brownies.” She shrugged like it was no big deal, but her eyes flicked to him again, and the corner of her mouth curved in a secret smile that set off sparks under his skin.

Arabella squealed, clearly sold at the mere mention of brownies. Ji-woo laughed, holding her back. “I think she likes your idea,” she said, and Y/N answered with a light laugh of her own.

“Come whenever,” Y/N said, still looking at Hoseok. “Unless you have other plans?” There was a playful note in her voice, a gentle challenge. He swallowed, trying to find words, but Ji-woo jumped in first.

“Oh, we’ll be there,” Ji-woo said decisively, shooting him a look that said Don’t even think about backing out, buddy.

Y/N gave a small nod, that small smile still in place, before heading inside. Hoseok watched her go, his mind whirring with a hundred questions, a thousand hopes. He’d barely stepped foot back in town, and already they had dinner plans. He didn’t know what tonight would bring, but he was buzzing with anticipation—like he was on the field, seconds before the play that could change everything.

“Dinner with the Kims, huh?” Ji-woo teased, eyebrows raised, her voice sing-song with suggestion. Maxwell appeared out of nowhere, eyes big. “Did someone say brownies?”

Hoseok ruffled Maxwell’s hair absently. “And pizza,” he said, though he was only half-present. His thoughts were already across the street, trying to parse every smile, every lifted eyebrow Y/N had offered.

Inside the house, he could feel the warmth of family wrapping around him—but tonight, he wanted more than that. He wanted a moment alone with her. He needed to know if that night in the kitchen, their kiss full of promise and possibility, was just a beautiful blip… or the start of something bigger. Tonight, he might just find out.

Inside, Y/N felt like every one of her nerves had decided to start a chorus line on her spine. Holy hell—Hoseok was back in town, and he looked better than any memory could do justice. Her thoughts skittered around that kiss they’d shared once, the kiss that still had the power to make her heart pound whenever it popped into her head. She’d replayed it in her mind more times than she’d care to admit, always wondering if it had knocked him off-balance as much as it had rattled her. And now he was here, standing at her door again. If there was any fairness in the world, they’d get a second take on that unforgettable moment.

But first, there was her brother. Taehyung had a flair for throwing a wrench into her plans. “Tae!” she hollered up the stairs, trying not to sound frantic. “Get down here! Ji-woo, Hoseok, and the kids are on their way, and Joon’s coming, too!”

“Already in the kitchen, sis!” came his voice, and relief swam through her. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be a chaos-fest after all.

She found him amid a pizza-making operation so elaborate it could’ve been a culinary art exhibit. Pizza crusts spread out like blank canvases, toppings arranged in tidy rows, Taehyung wielding an olive oil brush as if he were painting a masterpiece. He glanced over his shoulder, giving her a casual shrug.

“I figured the kids could make their own pizzas,” he said, as if it were no big deal. “We can handle a few personal pies at once.”

Y/N stepped closer, touched by his thoughtfulness. “You know, you can be really sweet, Tae,” she teased, going in to pinch his cheek. He dodged with a mock-flex of his bicep.

“And don’t forget good-looking,” he tossed back, striking a ridiculous pose that made her roll her eyes.

“Stop that,” Y/N said, stifling a laugh. “You’ll scare the kids.”

They laughed together, comfortable and teasing, until the doorbell rang. Y/N ran a quick hand through her hair, adjusted her bra strap, tried to look casual. For the kids, sure, but mostly for their uncle. She flicked on the Christmas tree lights and opened the door just in time to see Maxwell rocket inside, followed by Ji-woo wielding a giant salad bowl. And then, Hoseok. He entered with Arabella perched in his arms, the sight of him so effortlessly handsome that Y/N’s breath hitched. Seriously, how did he manage to look even better than the last time?

“Brought salad,” Ji-woo announced, smiling warmly.

“Perfect,” Y/N said, ushering them all in. “We’ll need something green to balance all the carbs.” She nodded toward the kitchen. “Tae’s got a pizza station set up. The kids can go wild.”

Maxwell and Arabella shot off like tiny comets, squealing at the prospect of decorating their own pizzas. Arabella paused only to nod solemnly at Y/N’s Christmas tree, as if granting it royal approval, before joining her brother.

Y/N opened her mouth to say something else—but then she felt a gentle tug on her hand. Turning, she found herself face-to-face with Hoseok, standing much closer than expected. His eyes held a warm gleam, and she felt a flutter low in her stomach.

“Hi,” he said softly, voice pitched for her ears only.

“Hi,” she managed, just before he leaned in and brushed his lips over hers—a light, quick kiss that somehow still rattled her bones. It was shy and bold all at once, and it made that memory of their first kiss crackle back to life, reminding her just how good they’d been together.

“You never gave me your number,” he teased, dark eyes dancing.

She feigned nonchalance. “You never asked,” she said, a playful lift in her brow.

“I’m asking now,” he grinned, extending his phone.

She typed her number carefully, trying to keep her fingers steady and her face neutral, then handed it back with a smile. “There, now you have it.”

Before Hoseok could respond, two solid knocks rattled the door. Namjoon stepped inside like a man on a mission, still in his captain’s uniform, scanning the room as if expecting to find mischief afoot.

“Kid, you’ve gotta start locking that door,” he scolded, but Y/N just rolled her eyes.

“It’s Salida, Dad. We’re fine.” She motioned everyone toward the kitchen. “Tae’s making pizza, come on.”

Namjoon’s gaze landed on Hoseok. “Good game, son,” he said, giving a respectful nod. “Pizza ready?”

“Tae’s on it,” Y/N answered, slipping away from Hoseok with a quick, secret smile. She noticed Hoseok’s eyes following her—like he was reluctant to let her out of his sight—and her heart stumbled a little.

Namjoon grunted appreciatively. “If architecture doesn’t pan out, that boy could open a pizzeria.”

Y/N snorted. “Sure, because working for one of the biggest developers in the West isn’t enough for him. He needs a pizza empire.”

As if summoned by his new entrepreneurial calling, Taehyung appeared with the kids, all wearing holiday aprons. Maxwell’s had snowmen, Arabella’s had Santas, and Taehyung’s proudly proclaimed ‘Got Mistletoe?’ Hoseok joined them, kneeling down to admire the toppings. The kitchen swelled with laughter and chatter as everyone piled their pizzas high.

Soon, Ji-woo’s salad was making rounds, and they hovered together, waiting for the pizzas to bake. The air smelled like yeast and tomato sauce and spices. Light bounced off shiny ornaments on the Christmas tree just beyond the kitchen doorway. It felt like the set of a warm holiday special, the kind you watched curled up under a blanket.

Jungkook and Blair arrived, drawn by the promise of good food and the evening’s impending drama at the HOA meeting. Blair was especially giddy, eyeing the brownies and pizza like party favors at a carnival. But Hoseok barely noticed them. He was watching Y/N, watching the way she laughed with her family, the way she moved around the kitchen so naturally, as if this place had a gravity all its own, pulling them all closer.

Namjoon snagged a brownie, chewing thoughtfully before turning to Y/N with a mock-serious glare. “I’m gonna need these at the station’s potluck,” he said, lips quirking into a grudging smile. “Yoongi will have my head if I don’t show up with something good.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Magic word?”

Namjoon made a show of pouting. “Pleease, Sissy?” He drew it out until Y/N burst into laughter. The sound rang bright and clear, filling the room with an easy, loving warmth.

Hoseok leaned back in his chair, completely enchanted. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so at home in a place that wasn’t really his home at all. The memory of their brief kiss hummed in his veins, a promise that maybe this moment, this feeling, didn’t have to be temporary. Maybe it could lead somewhere real.

As he sat there, watching Y/N tease her dad, saw Taehyung and Jungkook ganging up on Namjoon with good-humored glee, and caught Arabella’s serious nod of approval for every single topping choice… Hoseok realized something. He wasn’t just attracted to Y/N. He was drawn to the life around her, the family she was part of, the easy, genuine way she cared for the people in her orbit.

She looked back at him then, as if sensing his thoughts, and in that glance was everything: the memory of their kiss, the humor in their banter, and a hint of something else—something hopeful and warm and bright, like a candle flickering to life in the dark.

Hoseok turned as Taehyung nudged him, offering a fresh plate of brownies with a conspiratorial wink. He took one, smiling as he popped it into his mouth. Sure, there was a meeting later and a hundred unresolved questions. But right now, in this laughing, glowing kitchen, Hoseok could believe that he’d found something worth holding on to—and her name was Y/N.

At the HOA meeting that night, Tiffany and Rachel swept in like it was some Saturday night hotspot—clicking heels, sequined dresses catching the fluorescent lights in a way that felt more tragic than glamorous. Blair had to step outside to control her laughter, and when she came back, her shoulders still shook quietly. The rest of them huddled in folding chairs that squeaked when you leaned back too far, trying not to stare too openly at the spectacle.

Tiffany and Rachel took their seats at the front beside old Scott Watts Sr., who looked about eighty and seemed to be only halfway tuned in. His son, Scott Jr., hovered near him, trying not to look mortified.

“Meeting called to order,” Rachel said in a voice that aimed for regal and landed closer to nasal. She shot Y/N a look that implied the Christmas lights issue was basically a personal vendetta. She even angled a sultry glance at Hoseok, but it landed somewhere between a sneer and the face you make when you realize the milk’s gone sour.

From across the room, Y/N caught Blair’s eye, and they exchanged smirks. If nothing else, this evening would make for some hilarious after-party commentary.

“This is about the clear violation of HOA bylaws,” Rachel droned, lifting her chin, “concerning the Kims’ front yard décor.” She delivered the line like it was a grave sin worthy of excommunication.

“I’ll have the tea,” Scott Sr. mumbled, cutting across Rachel’s speech. People turned and looked at each other in confusion, while Tiffany’s eyes rolled so dramatically Y/N half-expected them to pop out.

Tiffany jumped in next, puffing herself up. “As you know,” she said, “we voted two years ago for strict decoration bylaws to preserve the tasteful image of our neighborhood.”

“Tiff?” Deiondre Park raised her hand from the front row, looking perfectly composed.

“We haven’t opened the floor to comments,” Tiffany snapped, like a principal scolding a rowdy class.

“I believe it’s a clarification, not a comment,” cut in Deiondre’s husband, Jimin, in that measured tone only a traffic judge could master. Tiffany flinched—probably recalling the time she’d tried flirting her way out of a ticket and failed spectacularly.

From the back, someone shouted, “Let her speak!” and murmurings of agreement swelled through the room. Hoseok slid his hand over Y/N’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze. A quiet sign: We’ve got this.

“Deiondre,” Rachel said with a huge, fake sigh, “go ahead.”

“I just don’t recall a vote,” Deiondre said, voice steady and confident. “Are there notes from that meeting? Because I’ve never seen them. Nor have I heard these rules mentioned before.”

Heads bobbed, a subtle wave of dissent rippling through the crowd.

“Told you it was shady,” Namjoon whispered to Y/N, crossing his arms. He looked like he was ready to slap metaphorical handcuffs on Tiffany and Rachel.

“I remember something about preferring white lights,” Tanya Hartley called from the back. “Rachel said it was standard for Avalanche properties.”

“Yeah,” Ford Fraserns chimed in, leaning forward with a daring gleam in his eyes. “And who put you two in charge, anyway?”

Rachel stiffened, her shoulders pulling back like a cat about to hiss. “We were voted in, along with Mr. Watts,” she said icily, as if that single sentence held all the authority in the world.

“Where’s that tea?” Scott Sr. mumbled again. This time, more people chuckled quietly. One of the old-timers, Adam Wagener, hollered, “Scotty, turn on your hearing aid!” and got a round of suppressed snorts for his trouble.

“What?” Scott shouted, fumbling with his earpiece. “Are we talking about Christmas lights now?”

“Yep,” Adam said, grinning wide. “And why you’re complaining.”

Scott Sr. threw up his hands. “I’m not! Those two—” he jerked a thumb at Tiffany and Rachel—“kept rattling on about colored lights being trashy. So I turned off my hearing aid. Figured I’d come back when they were done.” The crowd laughed outright now, and Y/N bit her lip to keep it together.

Tiffany flushed, doubling down. “We did have a vote! June 19th, 2022—about community beautification. White lights, no blow-ups.”

“And no gnomes,” Rachel chimed in, glaring at the Lawrences. “No need for entire gnome villages.”

“I’m still with Lee,” James Lawrence retorted. “Who put you two on the throne?”

“We were voted in for four-year terms,” Tiffany said with a smug little smirk. “Two years left.”

Hoseok leaned toward Y/N. “Clueless, isn’t she?” he murmured, amused.

“She lives in her own bubble,” Y/N whispered back, stifling a grin.

Before anyone could continue, Blair nudged Jungkook, and the two of them rose, moving to the front with a steady confidence that quieted the room. Hoseok glanced at Y/N, brows raised. Y/N just shook her head, excitement dancing in her eyes. She had no idea what they were about to do, but she knew it would be good.

Jungkook cleared his throat, his voice easily filling the room. “I’m Jungkook Jeon, and this is my wife Blair Reid-Jeon. Some of you remember me from when I lived in Salida.” A few heads nodded. “I’m also President and CEO of Avalanche Development.”

The entire room stilled. Tiffany and Rachel looked like they’d just realized their glittery dresses were inside out. Blair took over, her tone crisp. “When we built these communities, we wanted them family-friendly and fair. The basic HOA rules are standard. But any amendments—” she held up a binder “—are required to be provided to homeowners in writing.”

Jungkook scanned the crowd. “How many of you received notice of these amendments?” Only two hands went up—Rachel and Tiffany’s husbands. Y/N couldn’t help but smirk.

Jungkook continued calmly. “Since Tiffany and Rachel were elected, twenty-five amendments have been submitted here. Our other developments average six in the same period. That raised some questions.”

Blair nodded. “According to Avalanche policy, if we suspect a board is violating the original agreements, we can suspend that board pending an investigation. During suspension, all changes they enacted are null and void.”

A cheer erupted, applause rattling the folding chairs. Tiffany and Rachel looked as if their sequined dresses had turned into scratchy potato sacks. Their jaws tightened as if physically holding back protest.

Jungkook delivered the final blow, his voice carrying the ring of authority: “Until a new vote is held, Taehyung Kim will serve as the local representative for Avalanche Development.”

The crowd whooped. Taehyung waved, trying and failing to hide his pride. Rachel and Tiffany, thoroughly deflated, gathered their purses and their husbands and slunk out, heads low.

Y/N caught Hoseok’s eye, and he grinned wide. She felt light and triumphant, like something stuck in her throat had finally cleared. Tonight, they’d won back their Christmas lights, their freedom, and their dignity. And maybe, she thought, as Hoseok gave her hand another gentle, reassuring squeeze, they’d won something even sweeter than that.

Y/N leaned into Hoseok, her heart swelling with satisfaction. “I love it when justice is served.”

“Especially with a side of brownies,” Hoseok murmured, draping an arm around her and pulling her close.

Stepping out into the cool night air, Y/N turned to him with a grin. “Well, that was a bit anticlimactic,” she laughed, eyes sparkling with victory. “I was hoping for a full-blown protest.”

Hoseok chuckled, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “There’s always next time.”

Jungkook joined them, his grin mischievous as always. “Blair’s dad and our legal team did some serious digging. A few calls to the homeowners confirmed our suspicions—no one knew about these ‘amendments.’ And Deiondre? She’s ready to lead the charge. Tiffany once tried to charm Jimin out of some speeding tickets, but Deiondre? She’s got a long memory and a grudge.”

“So, can we light up Ji-woo’s yard?” Hoseok asked, glancing at Jungkook with a glint of hope.

“Hell yes,” Namjoon said, clapping Jungkook on the shoulder. “We’ll surprise Ms. Ari with the lights first thing in the morning.”

“And we should get some for our yard, too,” Y/N added, nudging Taehyung with a sparkle of mischief in her eyes. “Nothing like a little reminder that sneaky business doesn’t pay off.”

Hoseok’s grin widened as he looked at her. “Need a shopping partner?”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Why, Mr. Jung, I’d be honored. Think you can handle Target?”

Hoseok winked, making her stomach flutter. “Target’s my secret addiction.”

Laughing, Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the car. “Let’s go before the others catch on!” she whispered with a grin, glancing back to make sure they hadn’t been spotted. “Blair is fascinated by the fact that you can buy toilet paper and cute shoes at the same place!”

They were still laughing as they slid into his SUV. Y/N settled into the cozy warmth, inhaling the scent of him—something spicy and clean with a hint of leather. She could barely focus on anything but him.

“Music?” Hoseok asked as he started the car, giving her a curious look.

She nodded, wondering what he’d choose. When Sam Hunt’s Take Your Time started playing, she raised an eyebrow. “Country?” she teased, grinning.

Hoseok chuckled. “I like a bit of everything. Try not to judge.”

“Same,” Y/N agreed. “Taehyung always jokes that my playlists are the most chaotic thing about me.”

The drive was easy, filled with conversation—his move to Denver, her memories of growing up in Salida, Taehyung’s infamous cooking disaster. By the time they pulled into Target’s empty parking lot, it felt like only minutes had passed.

Inside, Y/N led the way to the Christmas section, fingers trailing over garlands and lights. She picked up a Frosty the Snowman blow-up, then a Grinch one, holding them up with a mischievous grin. “I’m thinking the Grinch right between Tiffany and Rachel’s houses.”

Hoseok laughed, a deep, rich sound that made her heart race. They wandered the aisles, the air between them thick with unspoken tension. At one point, Y/N broke into an off-key rendition of “Say You’ll Be There” by the Spice Girls, and Hoseok watched her, utterly captivated. Every little thing about her pulled him in, until he wasn’t sure he’d ever want to pull away.

“What do you think of these?” Y/N held up a box of large, multicolored retro lights, her eyes bright. “Thinking they’d look great in the windows.”

“They’re perfect,” Hoseok replied, holding up his own find—a large Rudolph blow-up. “Think Arabella will like this?”

“She’ll love it,” Y/N giggled, imagining the little girl’s delight. “She can put it right next to Santa.”

Just then, a young employee approached, wide-eyed as he recognized Hoseok. “Dude, you’re Hoseok Jung,” he whispered, starstruck.

Hoseok gave him a friendly smile. “Hey, Fraser. Could you keep it low-key? My girl and I are just trying to shop.”

The phrase my girl sent a thrill through Y/N’s chest, even if she knew it was just a way to keep things quiet. Still, it felt nice. Really nice.

Fraser looked ecstatic. “No problem. My dad’s a huge fan—he’d never believe I met you.”

“FaceTime him,” Y/N suggested, smiling. She loved making people’s day; it was one of the many things Hoseok admired about her. A few minutes later, Fraser was video chatting with his dad, and Hoseok was chatting and laughing with them both like old friends. At checkout, Fraser even gave them his employee discount as a thank-you, and Y/N, ever the charmer, kissed his cheek, wishing him a happy holiday.

As they stashed their bags in the car, Hoseok reached for her hand again. The touch was electric, and she looked up at him, heart racing as his thumb brushed over her skin.

“So,” Hoseok teased, his voice soft, “should I be jealous of Fraser?”

Y/N laughed, her voice a little breathless. “Oh, please,” she murmured, her lips curling into a smile. And then, without thinking, she closed the distance between them and kissed him.

It was like nothing she’d ever felt—the spark between them igniting into a full, consuming blaze. His lips moved against hers with a heat that left her breathless, her hands threading into his hair, pulling him closer. Every inch of her was alive, responding to him with a rush of want and need she couldn’t control.

Hoseok’s hands gripped her waist, pulling her onto his lap as the kiss deepened. The soft leather seats of the SUV faded away, the world outside disappearing as his mouth claimed hers. His fingers traced the curve of her back, sending delicious shivers down her spine, and Y/N couldn’t think of anything beyond the way he was making her feel.

When he finally pulled back, his breath warm against her skin, he whispered, his voice husky, “You taste so good.”

Her head spun, her heart pounding as she whispered back, “Oh God, Hoseok…”

He groaned, hands tightening on her waist, but managed to pull back just enough to rest his forehead against hers, his voice thick with restraint. “We really need to go,” he muttered, his tone both regretful and amused. “Pretty sure this parking lot isn’t the best place for this.”

“There’s a Motel 6 about ten minutes away,” Y/N teased, a wicked grin on her lips as she nibbled his lower lip.

Hoseok chuckled, a spark of mischief in his eyes, but there was a seriousness in his voice that sent a flutter through her heart. “Baby, our first time isn’t gonna be in some motel.”

“Damn,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him one last time, slower this time, savoring the taste of him before reluctantly slipping back into her seat. He brushed a soft kiss on her forehead, and even as they sat there in the warm silence, she knew this was far from over. Her body hummed with anticipation, her mind spinning with possibilities. And as Hoseok started the engine, she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next. One thing was certain—neither of them wanted this night to end.

That weekend, Hoseok had an away game, so he left early Tuesday morning to head back to Denver. But even a hundred miles couldn’t dull the connection between them. The distance didn’t stop them from staying in constant contact, texting, talking, and FaceTiming every chance they got, like their conversations were the only thing holding them together. The weekend flew by in a whirlwind of Broncos’ victory, securing their playoff spot and a first-round bye.

On Monday night, Hoseok’s voice filled her phone with a warmth that made her heart flutter. “Come to Denver for the weekend,” he suggested during their FaceTime call, his tone casual but carrying an unmistakable spark of anticipation. He turned his camera around to show off his sleek, modern condo with city lights twinkling behind the windows. “Stay with me. I’ll even cook my famous tacos.”

“Famous tacos?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, leaning back on her couch with a half-smile, trying to play it cool despite the excitement bubbling in her chest.

“Yep,” Hoseok grinned, amused by her skepticism. “You know the drill: open the yellow box, brown the meat, stir in the seasoning packet, chop some toppings—boom, gourmet masterpiece.” He delivered his ‘recipe’ with mock seriousness, his playful eyes crinkling at the corners.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head. “Don’t you think we should go on an actual date before I spend a weekend at your place, eating your so-called ‘famous tacos’?”

Hoseok’s grin widened. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” he said, drawing out her name like it was a melody, teasing her as he leaned closer to the camera, “We’ve already been on plenty of dates. Let’s recap, shall we? First, there was the Christmas party where you dressed as an elf for me. By the way, if you still have that costume, feel free to bring it.” He gave a sly wink that made her cheeks flush.

Y/N covered her face, laughing. “That doesn’t count as a date!”

“Oh, it absolutely counts,” he insisted, barely holding back his own laughter. “Then there was that very classy ‘date’ in your kitchen, where your legs were wrapped around my waist, and your tongue was down my throat—top second date ever.”

“Unbelievable,” Y/N muttered, though her heart raced at the memory, her face heating up.

“We had a double date with your brother and my sister. Sure, Namjoon and the kids were there, but it totally counts,” he said, grinning. “And we went to a show together—the HOA meeting, which was nothing short of a Broadway production.”

Y/N could barely hold it together, laughing so hard she had to wipe her eyes. “So, those were all ‘dates,’ huh?”

“Absolutely,” Hoseok replied, his expression still playful. “And, in some cultures, with how often your tongue’s been in my mouth, we’re practically engaged.”

“Wait, we jumped from dates to being engaged?” she teased, rolling her eyes, though her heart skipped at the word engaged.

“In some cultures,” he replied smoothly, his grin softening. “Which clearly means it’s not too soon for you to come spend the weekend with me—your potential future husband.”

Her laughter faded, replaced by a flicker of nerves and excitement. Potential future husband. The words echoed in her mind, both ridiculous and somehow incredibly sweet. Her heart fluttered, and before she could stop herself, she found herself saying, “Oh hell, Hoseok, who am I to argue with that?”

They ended the call with playful promises, but as she set her phone down, she realized she was pacing her living room, mind whirling with the decision she’d just made. She was going to spend the weekend with Hoseok. At his place.

Was he serious about the ‘practically engaged’ part? She had no idea, but all she could think about was the “naked fun times” he’d hinted at. Her pulse quickened, her skin heating at the memory of their kiss—the way he had touched her, the way she had wanted him.

“Why are you pacing?” Taehyung’s voice broke through her thoughts. He stood in the doorway, eyebrows raised in suspicion.

“Just… exercising. Gotta get my steps in,” she lied quickly, definitely not ready to admit the truth—especially not about the “naked fun times.”

Taehyung squinted, clearly unconvinced, but let it go. “Any plans tonight? I thought we could watch Christmas Vacation or something.”

Y/N hesitated, biting her lip. She’d have to tell him eventually, and maybe sooner was better. Taking a deep breath, she dropped the news as casually as she could. “Actually… I’ll be in Denver this weekend. Hoseok invited me to stay at his place.”

Taehyung’s face lit up with a teasing grin, his eyes sparkling. “Well, well, looks like things are getting serious. Sure you don’t want to stay at my place instead? Save on hotel costs?”

"You mean Jungkook and Blair’s pool house?” Y/N shot back, smirking because she knew exactly what he meant.

“It’s the Tae Cave, don’t you forget it.” Taehyung laughed, and before she knew it, he’d scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing, carrying her toward the front door.

“Put me down, you idiot!” she shrieked, smacking his back while he stumbled onto the lawn.

Taehyung only grinned, unbothered by her protests. “Ji-woo! Y/N agreed to watch the kids tonight!”

From across the lawn, Ji-woo glanced over, giving them both a knowing smile as she tossed a ball to her kids. “Do boys ever grow up?” she asked, her voice full of teasing.

Y/N rolled her eyes, trying not to laugh. “Nope. They’re all Peter Pans at heart.”

Fifteen minutes later, Y/N was back inside, her heart racing with a mix of nerves and excitement as she texted Blair.

Y/N: I’m spending the weekend at Hoseok’s place.

Blair: Girl, you better tap that ass!

Y/N: Well… I think I will.

Blair’s response came back instantly, her enthusiasm practically leaping off the screen.

Blair: YES, finally! Go get it, girl! He’s so into you—I can feel it from here!

Y/N set her phone down, her lips curling into a grin that reached her eyes. The weekend stretched out before her like an open road, brimming with possibilities she hadn’t even dared to dream about. But even as she tried to play it cool, there was a nagging question in the back of her mind: What did this mean for them? Was this just a fun weekend fling, or was the connection between her and Hoseok something deeper?

Meanwhile, Hoseok felt like everything was clicking into place. His coach was over the moon about their playoff win, and on the field, he was playing with a fire he hadn’t felt in years. He could already picture that Super Bowl ring on his finger and the pride shining in Namjoon’s eyes. But there was one hurdle he hadn’t quite cleared—dating Namjoon’s little sister without landing on the wrong side of her brother’s protective instincts. If he could navigate that, the Super Bowl would feel like a stroll in the park.

As for the weekend ahead? Hoseok had a different kind of goal in mind—a personal mission that had nothing to do with football.

The doorman buzzed, signaling his guest’s arrival. Hoseok did a quick sweep of the apartment, making sure everything was in order. Steaks rested on the counter, sweet potatoes were warming in the oven, and a bottle of wine sat ready in case Y/N needed a break from her usual whiskey. A bouquet of red and white flowers added a touch of cozy, holiday cheer—perfect for the night they’d come together to reclaim their Christmas spirit.

Just as the elevator dinged, Hoseok rushed to the door and caught sight of Y/N stepping out. She looked a bit stunned but as beautiful as ever, cheeks flushed from the cold and bundled up in her winter coat.

“You made it,” he grinned, stepping forward to pull her into a hug. Her familiar warmth enveloped him, grounding him in a way he hadn’t realized he needed.

“Blair dropped me off,” she murmured into his shoulder, her arms slipping around his neck. “She had to pick up some paperwork. Apparently, they found proof that Rachel was skimming HOA funds—billing for stuff and pocketing the money. They’re pressing charges. Tiffany was just following her lead, but there’s no evidence she took any of it.” She sighed, pulling back to look him in the eye. “And we stopped by Joon’s place so I could grab my suitcase. But he used it last for that cruise, so I had to get it from him. The cruiser was there, but no one answered the door, and I got worried. He’s not exactly young anymore, and his cholesterol isn’t great…”

Hoseok felt a pang of concern tighten his chest. Gently, he guided her inside, leading her to the living room as he closed the door behind them.

“Is Namjoon okay?” he asked softly, his voice laced with worry.

Y/N took a deep breath, her voice flat as she replied, “My brother was having sex with Teagan Carter.” Her words hung in the air, heavy and shocking. “Former Broncos cheerleader Teagan Carter. Blair and I walked in on him… in full doggy style… on the kitchen table where I ate breakfast every day growing up.” Her tone was so deadpan, so matter-of-fact, that Hoseok had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

He’d seen his parents through enough awkward moments to know the trauma, but the image of rule-following Namjoon caught in such an act almost broke his composure. Still, Y/N looked genuinely shaken, so he swallowed his amusement. He wasn’t about to let anything ruin their night.

“Come here, baby,” he murmured, pulling her close and guiding her to the big, squishy sectional in his living room. “Sounds like you could use a strong whiskey.”

He sat her down, brushing a stray hair from her face before heading to the bar. Pouring her a couple of fingers, he handed her the glass, watching as she downed it in one gulp before holding it out for more. He poured a second, and this time, she sipped more slowly.

“Thanks for the flowers,” she said, her voice steadier as she glanced over at the festive bouquet. “And the whiskey.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, feeling a warmth spread through him as he watched her start to relax. “How about we eat in here tonight? I’ve got steaks, sweet potatoes, and creamed southwestern-style corn. We can just sit on the couch, watch something, take it easy. No table, no formality.”

“That sounds perfect,” she said, looking around the room with a small smile, her shoulders finally losing some tension.

“Wait… no Christmas tree?” she teased, glancing back at him with a playful pout.

Hoseok rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I had one, but I forgot to water it, and it pretty much died. Total fire hazard, so I got rid of it.”

Y/N giggled, shaking her head. “What would Arabella say?”

“Oh, she’d fire me on the spot,” he replied with mock horror. “But don’t worry—we’ll go to a Christmas store tomorrow and get a replacement. We’ll decorate it together before my niece disowns me for holiday negligence.”

Her laughter was music to his ears, and he felt the last bit of tension melt away from her body. They ate quickly, the food delicious but secondary to the easy flow of conversation between them. White Christmas played softly in the background, and as Y/N fed him small bites of steak, the air grew charged. Their playful touches lingered, her hand resting on his thigh a little longer than necessary, his fingers brushing against her shoulder as they exchanged knowing glances.

By the time dinner was over, Hoseok felt the pull between them, the simmering desire they both seemed to be tiptoeing around. He’d been trying to take things slow, but it was getting harder to ignore how her body leaned into his, how her eyes traced his mouth like a path she wanted to follow.

“I’m just gonna use the bathroom,” Y/N said, standing up with a soft smile before disappearing down the hall.

Hoseok took the chance to brush his teeth, trying to steady himself, but it all felt oddly… domestic. Sharing a meal, cleaning up, brushing their teeth in the same space like it was the most natural thing in the world. For the first time, it hit him just how right it felt to have her here, in his home. He didn’t know where this was going, but he was sure of one thing: he didn’t want to lose whatever this was.

“Hoseok?” Her voice floated softly down the hall, pulling him from his thoughts. He stepped out of the bathroom to find her standing there, looking at him with a warmth in her eyes that made his chest tighten.

“Sorry, I needed to brush mine too,” he said with a small smile, gesturing behind him toward the bathroom. His heart skipped as she stepped further into his room, her eyes widening as they took in the sight of his massive California king bed.

“That bed is huge!” she exclaimed, her surprise turning into a smile, a playful curiosity dancing in her eyes.

“I’m a big guy. I like lots of room,” he teased, winking in that effortless way that always made her pulse race.

She giggled, but before she could respond, he moved toward her, scooping her up into his arms. She shrieked in laughter, her hands instinctively wrapping around his neck, pulling herself close as her body curled against his.

“Hoseok!” she giggled, her laughter filling the room like music. “What are you doing?”

“Testing out how much room we have,” he quipped, grinning as he carried her toward the bed. He carefully set her down on the soft mattress, her head sinking into the pillow as she giggled, squirming under his playful attack. The sheets were crisp and cool beneath her, and she looked up at him with a mixture of amusement and anticipation.

“Oh, so this is your big plan? Throw me onto your bed and… what? Have a pillow fight?” she teased, her eyes sparkling.

“Not quite,” Hoseok replied, his grin softening as he settled beside her, keeping a little space between them. Propping his head on his arm, he looked at her, his playful expression turning more tender, more serious. “I thought maybe we could just… talk for a bit.”

Her expression shifted, the laughter in her eyes melting into something warmer. “Talk, huh?” she murmured, her voice softening as she turned to face him, the space between them feeling both wide and intimate all at once.

He reached over, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering against her skin. “Yeah… I want to get to know you more,” he admitted, his voice low, like he was letting her in on a secret. “Like… what makes you happy. What you dream about. Stuff like that.”

Her heart melted at his words, and she shifted closer, turning onto her side so that they were face to face, sharing the same pillow. Her fingers traced small circles on the sheet between them, her mind racing with thoughts of how rare it was for someone to want to know her in this way.

“Well,” she began, her voice a little shy but honest, “I’m happiest when I’m with the people I care about—my family, my friends. I love little moments, like baking cookies with Tae or playing board games with my students.” She paused, looking into his eyes with a soft smile. “And… I’ve always dreamed of traveling. I want to see places I’ve only read about. Paris, Rome… maybe even Tokyo.”

“Tokyo, huh?” His eyes lit up as he listened, his hand moving to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. “I’ve been there a few times for games. You’d love it. The city is electric, so full of life. It’s one of those places where you feel like anything’s possible.”

She smiled at the thought, her heart swelling with how easy it was to imagine herself in a place like that—especially with Hoseok by her side.

“What about you?” she asked, curiosity sparking as she looked at him. ��What makes you happy?”

His gaze softened, something tender flashing in his eyes. “Honestly?” he began, his voice quiet. “Moments like this. Where everything feels… simple. No pressure, no expectations. Just… being with someone who gets me.” His thumb brushed along her cheek, and he hesitated, as if choosing his next words carefully. “And you make me happy. Just being around you.”

Her breath caught, her chest tightening at the way his words wrapped around her, filling the quiet space between them. His hand lingered on her cheek, his touch warm, and she leaned into it, savoring the moment, the connection.

For a while, neither of them spoke. The world outside seemed to fade, leaving only the two of them wrapped up in the quiet intimacy. She could feel her heart pounding, the tension between them building with each passing second.

Then, without thinking, she reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm, pulling him closer until the space between them disappeared. Their bodies pressed together, the warmth of him surrounding her like a soft blanket.

“I don’t know what it is about you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as her gaze lingered on his lips, her own just inches from his. “But I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Hoseok’s eyes darkened, his breath escaping in a soft exhale as he leaned in, closing the gap between them. “I’ve been thinking about you, too,” he whispered, his lips hovering just above hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between.

The kiss that followed was slow at first, deliberate. They savored every second, every gentle brush of their lips, as if the world had paused to let them catch their breath. The tenderness lingered—a kiss that drew them deeper, as though nothing else existed beyond that connection. But tenderness has a way of unraveling, and soon desire took over.

Hoseok’s hand slid to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her closer as if he could meld them together. Y/N’s hands pressed against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her palms. It wasn’t just his heart racing—hers was too. Something raw and wild had ignited between them, like an engine roaring to life, and it was growing.

He shifted, flipping them effortlessly until she was straddling him, their bodies pressing together like they had always belonged this way, like there was never supposed to be any space between them. His hands roamed up her back, fingers sliding beneath her shirt, and Y/N arched into his touch, every nerve in her body coming alive.

She hadn’t realized just how much she wanted this—no, needed this. All the tension, the constant teasing, the slow build—it all came rushing to the surface now, and she couldn’t get enough of him. His lips met hers again, but there was nothing soft about it this time. It was desperate, all-consuming. A firestorm. His tongue parted her lips, tasting her, and Y/N matched his intensity, her hands sliding down his chest, feeling every inch of him beneath his shirt.

Hoseok moved again, laying her back against the bed, positioning himself beside her, his arm holding him up as he gazed down at her. Their legs tangled, and she could feel the warmth of him, the electricity that sparked between them. His hand traced a slow line up her arm, and she instinctively moved closer, pressing her face against his chest, feeling the cool fabric of his shirt against her cheek.

Hoseok’s breath was steady, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper, something intense beneath the surface. He looked down at her, his eyes soft, and for a moment, everything else fell away.

He brought his hand to her cheek, brushing it tenderly before leaning in to kiss her again. But this time, there was no hesitation. His lips claimed hers with a kind of certainty that sent a jolt through her entire being. This was Hoseok—her Hoseok. The realization wrapped around her heart, pulling her in even deeper.

Her fingers clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer, the kiss growing more passionate with each passing second. Every time their lips parted, they found each other again, more intense, more insistent. Y/N’s breath quickened, her pulse racing, her entire world narrowing down to the feel of him—his scent, his warmth, the way his hands moved over her, like he was never going to let her go.

This is Hoseok, her mind whispered, Hoseok holding me, kissing me... Heat pooled low in her belly, her body responding with an urgency that took her breath away. She was hot and aching, and all she could think about was how much she wanted him—how much she needed him.

But then, something shifted inside her. She found herself pulling back, her mind slipping out of the moment. Her lips stilled, and she buried her face against his chest, her breath catching as she tried to steady herself. Hoseok didn’t let go. He kept his arms wrapped around her, strong and steady, his chin resting gently on the top of her head. For a while, they just lay there, breathing together as the soft patter of rain against the window filled the quiet room.

Hoseok pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, lingering there for a moment. Y/N tilted her head up, meeting his gaze. His eyes held a question, one he didn’t need to voice. Do you trust me?

“Yes,” she whispered, the word escaping her before she even realized it. She leaned up, kissing him again, slowly at first, before rolling with him until he was fully over her, his weight pressing her into the mattress. The kiss deepened, turning passionate, their lips moving together in a heated rhythm that made her breath hitch.

Hoseok’s lips left hers, trailing down her neck, soft at first, then more demanding as he reached the curve of her throat. His mouth opened, teeth grazing her skin before biting down gently, and Y/N gasped, her body arching beneath him. A shiver of pleasure ran down her spine, her eyes fluttering closed, her hands tangling in his hair.

His hands moved with purpose, tracing the curves of her waist, sliding up to cup her breast through her shirt. Y/N’s breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, her body responding to every kiss, every touch. His thumb brushed over her nipple, sending a delicious thrill through her, and she moaned, her fingers clutching at his shoulders.

“Hoseok,” she breathed, her voice thick with longing.

He didn’t stop, his lips moving lower, kissing along her collarbone, down to her stomach as he pushed her shirt up, revealing more of her skin with each kiss. Y/N’s heart pounded, her mind spinning as his touch ignited every inch of her. The air between them buzzed, electric, and all she could think was how much she needed him—how much she wanted him.

And when his hand slipped beneath the waistband of her pants, finding her warm and wet, Y/N’s mind went blank. Her world narrowed down to the sensation, the overwhelming pleasure as his fingers moved over her, teasing, exploring, drawing her higher and higher.

Her breath hitched, her body arching into his touch, her hands fisting the sheets as she lost herself to the storm of desire he’d stirred in her. She couldn’t think—only feel, as Hoseok took her further, his mouth and hands working in perfect sync to unravel her completely.

Hoseok’s breath came in short, shallow bursts, his focus entirely on her, on the way she responded to his touch. His mouth found her neck, lips warm and insistent, kissing and nipping in a way that bordered on torturous. Each kiss was like a spark, igniting something deep inside her, making her legs tremble.

She felt herself teetering on the edge, her body trembling, her breath coming in short gasps. Hoseok’s mouth moved with purpose, and then, with a final flick of his tongue, Y/N’s world shattered. Her body convulsed, pleasure rippling through her in waves, and she cried out, her mind blank, her entire being consumed by the sensation.

“Hoseok!” she screamed, her voice raw, as she came apart beneath him.

The aftershocks left her body trembling, her breath uneven, her heart pounding in her chest. When she finally opened her eyes, Hoseok was still there, his lips leaving gentle kisses as if savoring every last bit of her. She reached down, her fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer.

“Hoseok…” she whispered, her voice weak, and he looked up, his eyes meeting hers, dark and filled with something she couldn’t quite name.

He moved up, capturing her lips in a slow, lingering kiss, his hand still on her, his fingers stroking her gently. She sighed into the kiss, her body relaxing beneath him, the warmth of him filling her.

“No rest?” she murmured against his lips, her voice thick with exhaustion and desire.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes softening. “We’re slowing down,” he promised, his voice a husky whisper. There was something in the way he said it—an intimacy, a reassurance—that made her heart swell. It was a promise, but it was also a temptation, one she wasn’t sure she could resist.

She kissed him again, her lips seeking his in a slow, sensual dance. Hoseok’s fingers continued their gentle exploration, his touch grounding her, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile against his mouth. She didn’t know where this was going, what would happen next, but right now—right here in his arms—it felt like everything was exactly as it was meant to be.

Her hands moved down, brushing against the undone buckle of his belt, her fingers slipping inside and finding him hard, throbbing with anticipation. Wrapping her hand around him, she began to stroke, her movements deliberate, matching the slow, sensual rhythm of his fingers as he moved against her. She could feel him growing even harder beneath her touch, the heat between them building with every second.

Hoseok stilled, his forehead resting against hers, his breath coming out in shallow gasps. Together, they moved in a slow, building rhythm, heat flooding through her all over again, setting every inch of her on fire.

And then his pace slowed, the movement growing almost imperceptibly gradual. Y/N opened her eyes, questioning, as Hoseok shifted beneath her. His arm slid under her back with a fluid grace, holding her close as he gave one last deliberate thrust. Then, without a word, he carefully rolled them both until she was on top, straddling him, her legs trembling as she adjusted to the new position.

Y/N hovered above him, her breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts as she lay against his chest. She could feel the tip of him brushing against her, an aching reminder of how full he had made her feel just moments before. Lifting her gaze, her eyes met Hoseok's, and for a moment, they were simply lost in each other. There was an unspoken understanding, a silent agreement forged from shared intensity and want.

It felt like the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving only this—the warmth of his skin, the beat of his heart, the rhythmic pulse of their bodies.

Y/N took a deep breath, pushing herself upright, her hands bracing against his chest. Slowly, she lowered herself onto him, achingly slow, until she could feel every inch of him stretching her, filling her completely. A groan escaped her lips, her eyelids fluttering shut as her body adjusted to the overwhelming sensation. She stayed still for a moment, savoring the feeling of him inside her, the way their bodies seemed to mold together perfectly, the way her skin burned from the intimate contact.

Hoseok's hands rested on her hips, his fingers tracing the soft skin there in slow, gentle strokes, guiding without forcing. "Y/N, move with me," he murmured, his voice soft, filled with a quiet kind of intensity.

She nodded, her lips parting as she exhaled shakily. She lifted herself just a little before sliding back down, the friction sending a wave of warmth through her, radiating from where they were joined and traveling through her entire body.

"A little more," Hoseok instructed, his voice a low hum, his hands on her hips gently guiding her. She complied, shifting her position until she felt the angle change, the pressure heightening. "Now tilt forward," he whispered, his breath warm against her skin.

She did, and when she lifted herself again, the movement sent shockwaves through her, every nerve ending alive with pleasure. She gasped, her thighs shaking as she sank back down, the sensation almost too much to bear.

"Again, Y/N," Hoseok urged, his voice rough with need now, his hands steady on her hips, encouraging but never controlling.

She lifted herself again, her pace picking up, her breath catching in her throat as the friction intensified. Each time she came down onto him, it hit just right, the pressure building inside her like a storm about to break.

"Hoseok," she moaned, her voice raw, her movements becoming more desperate. "I can't—"

"You can," he murmured, his hands tightening just enough to guide her, to keep her steady. "I'm here. You can."

His words were like fuel to the fire burning inside her, and Y/N couldn't stop now. She couldn't hold back, couldn't control the way her body moved, the rhythm growing faster, more frantic. Hoseok's hips met hers with every movement, the sensation driving her closer to the edge.

"Hoseok," she gasped, her voice breaking as the pleasure grew overwhelming. "I don't know—"

"You can," he repeated, his voice filled with heat but also with a steadiness that anchored her. "I'm right here with you. Take me."

And she did. Y/N let herself go, the rhythm spiraling faster, the friction building to an unbearable peak. She focused on the way it felt—the way his body moved beneath hers, filling her again and again, the way their connection sparked like a live wire. Her cries grew louder, mingling with Hoseok's deep, guttural moans, his name falling from her lips like a desperate prayer as she gave herself over completely to the raw, consuming pleasure.

The pressure inside her finally burst, sending her over the edge, her body convulsing with each wave of release. She collapsed onto Hoseok, her face pressing into the crook of his neck, her breath coming in short, broken gasps.

Hoseok held her close, his hands rubbing soothing circles on her back, his lips pressing soft kisses to her hair as her body trembled against him. Slowly, gently, he shifted them, rolling onto their sides so she was cradled against him, her legs still tangled with his.

Y/N felt exhaustion wash over her, her eyes heavy, her mind hazy with the aftershocks of what had just happened. She looked up at him, her gaze meeting his, and there was something in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat—something tender, something achingly real.

Hoseok leaned down, brushing a kiss against her forehead, his breath warm on her skin as he whispered, "You're beautiful, Y/N."

A soft sigh escaped her lips, her heart swelling with a mix of emotions she couldn't quite put into words. And as sleep began to pull her under, the last thing she felt was Hoseok's heartbeat beneath her cheek, steady and comforting, lulling her into the quiet darkness.

Hoseok and Y/N found themselves wandering the brightly lit aisles of a 24-hour Christmas shop at two in the morning, after indulging in a couple more rounds of "naked fun time" and catching a nap. Now, they were doing something a little more wholesome—shopping for a Christmas tree. The soft glow of twinkling lights and the faint hum of Christmas music set the mood, but the intimacy between them lingered, electric and unmistakable.

"What did I tell you about shoving that tongue of yours in my mouth, baby?" Hoseok teased, his hand wrapped warmly around hers as they strolled side by side. His voice was playful, but the undercurrent of attraction that simmered between them hadn’t dissipated from earlier.

Y/N gave him a sidelong glance, feigning innocence as she inspected an eight-foot artificial tree in front of her. It was lush, full, and pre-lit—perfect for his apartment. But the price tag gave her pause. "Hoseok, we’re in public. We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile," she replied, her lips quirking into a smirk. "I’m not going to shove my tongue down your throat, no matter how hot you look right now."

He laughed, a deep, rich sound that made her heart skip a beat. "It’s two in the morning," he countered, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he leaned in close enough that his breath tickled her ear. "The only people here are two cashiers who aren’t paying attention, and that guy over there who looks like he’s about to have a mental breakdown over the stocking selection."

Y/N slapped his hand playfully as it ventured toward her butt, but couldn’t help laughing herself. Hoseok always had a way of making everything fun. "Behave," she teased, trying to regain some control. "Let’s just get the tree and grab something to eat. If you’re a good boy," she added, her voice dropping suggestively, "maybe I’ll reward you when we get back to your place. But right now, my kitty is a little sore."

Immediately, the playful grin on Hoseok’s face softened into concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes darting down to her lower half as if he could somehow diagnose her pain through her clothes.

Y/N giggled, touched by his genuine worry. "I’m fine," she assured him, brushing a hand over his chest. "I just need a little break before that big boy of yours comes back to play."

Relief washed over his features, and he leaned down to kiss her forehead, his hand slipping around her waist to pull her closer. "Then let’s get this tree," he said, his voice back to its playful cadence as he grabbed the massive $400 pre-lit tree without hesitation and dropped it into their cart. Y/N’s eyes widened at the ease with which he tossed the tree around like it weighed nothing. She reminded herself that Hoseok’s salary as a professional quarterback meant this was pocket change to him.

They continued through the store, picking out ornaments, stockings, and other holiday decorations to transform Hoseok’s apartment into a Christmas wonderland. As they turned down another aisle, Hoseok spotted a giant blow-up Rudolph tucked away in a corner, probably set aside by another shopper. But Hoseok didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the blow-up with a triumphant grin.

"Think Arabella will like this?" he asked, holding it up for Y/N’s inspection.

"She’s going to love it!" Y/N squealed, doing a little happy dance in the aisle. "It’ll look perfect next to her Santa."

They made their way toward the checkout, their cart brimming with holiday cheer. Just as they approached the register, a young employee walked up to them, his eyes wide with disbelief as he recognized Hoseok.

"Dude, you’re Hoseok Jung," the kid—Fraser—breathed, looking like he was about to faint from excitement.

Hoseok smiled warmly, always gracious with fans. "Hey, Fraser," he greeted. "Can we keep this low-key? My girl and I are just trying to shop without causing a scene."

Fraser nodded eagerly, his awe palpable. "No problem, man. But my dad is a huge fan—he’s never going to believe I met you."

Without missing a beat, Y/N stepped in with a solution. "Why don’t you FaceTime him? Hoseok can say hi. Consider it an early Christmas present."

Fraser’s face lit up, and a moment later, he was dialing his dad on video. Hoseok chatted with the man for a few minutes, making his night, while Y/N watched with a smile, admiring how effortlessly charming he was with everyone. By the time they left the store, Fraser had applied his employee discount, and they left with their cartful of holiday magic.

Back at Hoseok’s sleek, modern apartment, they set up the tree and decorated it with the ornaments they had bought. The space soon took on a warm, festive glow as they adorned every inch with twinkling lights and garland. Y/N was sore, her body reminding her of their earlier escapades, so she popped a couple of Advil and leaned into the cozy domesticity of the moment. They scrambled eggs and made toast in the kitchen afterward, sharing quiet, comfortable laughter while Hoseok, in nothing but sweatpants, danced around the room like a man without a care in the world.

After their impromptu breakfast, they decided to take a long soak in Hoseok’s luxurious jetted tub. The hot water soothed Y/N’s aching muscles, and she leaned back, watching the steam rise as she sipped a glass of wine. Hoseok was beside her, his arm resting casually along the edge of the tub, and they talked quietly, the sound of the water bubbling around them.

"This bathroom is a whole spa," Y/N sighed contentedly. "I could live here."

"Good," Hoseok teased, "because you’re not allowed to leave."

They shared a soft laugh before falling into a companionable silence, the kind that comes when two people are perfectly in sync. Y/N closed her eyes, basking in the warmth of the water and the presence of the man beside her. She hadn’t realized how deeply she was falling for him, but it was moments like these—simple, quiet, intimate—that made her heart swell.

Later, feeling completely relaxed and refreshed, Y/N found herself back in Hoseok’s bedroom. She playfully pushed him onto the bed, his towel falling away as she crawled over him. The night had been a blur of laughter, shared glances, and stolen kisses, but now there was a different energy between them—one that simmered with anticipation. She kissed him deeply, her hands roaming over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles beneath her fingertips.

Hoseok’s hands found their way to her hips, gripping her gently as she straddled him, her body moving in perfect sync with his. They had started the night in celebration, but as their lips met again and again, it became clear that they weren’t quite finished celebrating. Their connection deepened, and before long, Y/N had lost count of the number of times Hoseok had brought her to the brink of ecstasy.

As they lay tangled in the sheets afterward, Y/N rested her head on Hoseok’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this content, this safe, this utterly fulfilled. She glanced up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at her with a smile that was equal parts satisfaction and affection.

"Do you think Arabella will notice if we sleep all day tomorrow?" Y/N whispered with a playful grin.

Hoseok laughed softly, kissing the top of her head. "I think she’ll notice, but maybe I can bribe her with that giant Rudolph."

Y/N giggled, snuggling closer to him. "Best bribe ever."

They drifted off to sleep, the glow of the Christmas tree casting a soft light over the room, the warmth of their shared moments wrapping around them like a blanket.

Christmas morning dawned with a soft blanket of snow covering the streets, casting everything in a serene, white glow. Y/N pulled on her favorite holiday pajamas—flannel with tiny reindeer printed all over them—and headed downstairs to the kitchen where the smell of cinnamon and freshly brewed coffee filled the air. Hoseok was already up, standing by the stove, looking impossibly handsome even in the early morning light. He wore a red sweater with a goofy snowman on it, his hair still a bit tousled from sleep.

"Merry Christmas, baby," he greeted her, his voice warm and affectionate as he turned away from the stove to plant a soft kiss on her cheek.

"Merry Christmas," Y/N murmured, leaning into him for a moment before glancing at the counter, where several plates of pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs were laid out. "You made all this?"

"I figured I’d spoil you a little this morning," Hoseok said with a grin, flipping a pancake effortlessly in the air. "But don’t get used to it—this is a special occasion."

Y/N laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist as he cooked. She loved moments like this, where everything felt simple and perfect. "Thank you," she whispered, feeling the warmth of his body against hers.

After breakfast, they exchanged their first Christmas presents together. Y/N, trying not to look too giddy, handed Hoseok a neatly wrapped box. He eyed it curiously before tearing off the paper to reveal a chunky knit sweater, soft and charcoal gray.

"I noticed you didn’t have any sweaters that weren’t Christmas-themed," Y/N teased, watching his expression as he held the sweater up for inspection. "Figured you needed one for, you know, normal winter days."

Hoseok grinned, running his fingers over the fabric. "I love it," he said, immediately pulling it over his head, the sweater fitting perfectly over his broad shoulders. "How do I look?"

"Ridiculously good, as usual," Y/N said, laughing as he struck a pose, exaggerating his movements like a runway model. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," he replied, leaning in to kiss her softly. Then, with a mischievous smile, he handed her a wrapped box of his own. "Your turn."

Y/N unwrapped it carefully, the paper revealing a set of beautifully arranged classroom supplies—new whiteboards, markers, and a sleek, high-quality planner. She looked up at Hoseok, her heart swelling at the thoughtfulness of the gift. "You… you remembered I needed these?"

"Of course I did," Hoseok said, his smile softening. "You mentioned it once, a few weeks ago, about how some of your supplies were old or worn out. I figured your students deserve the best, and so do you."

Y/N felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes. It was such a small thing, but the fact that he’d remembered and gone out of his way to get her something so practical, something that would make her job easier, made her feel incredibly loved. "Thank you," she whispered, hugging him tightly. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

"Hey, I just want to make sure you’re ready to shape young minds," Hoseok teased, but there was a sincerity in his voice that made Y/N’s heart flutter.

By mid-morning, they were bundled up and heading over to Ji-woo’s house for the family Christmas party. Hoseok carried a bag full of presents for his niece and nephew while Y/N held a tray of cookies she’d baked the night before.

Ji-woo’s house was buzzing with life when they arrived. The sound of children laughing, holiday music playing, and the smell of roasting turkey greeted them as soon as they walked through the door. Arabella came running up to Hoseok, her face lighting up when she saw him.

"Uncle Hobi!" she squealed, throwing her arms around his waist. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, Arabella," Hoseok said, scooping her up into his arms and spinning her around as she giggled. "I’ve got a surprise for you!"

Arabella’s eyes widened with excitement as Hoseok set her down and pulled out the giant inflatable Rudolph from the bag. Her squeals of delight filled the room as she hugged the blow-up reindeer tightly.

"I knew it! I knew you’d bring Rudolph!" she beamed, her joy infectious.

In the living room, Ji-woo was busy setting up the table, her smile bright and welcoming. "Merry Christmas, you two!" she called out, walking over to hug them both. "You’re just in time. Maxwell’s been asking when Uncle Hobi’s going to get here so he can open his gifts."

"And I brought something extra this year," Y/N said with a grin, handing over the tray of cookies. "Hope the kids like them."

"I’m sure they will," Ji-woo laughed, taking the cookies and placing them on the table beside an array of other desserts.

The rest of the day was a whirlwind of laughter, food, and family. Taehyung and Jungkook arrived soon after, arms full of more gifts and treats. Namjoon showed up in his full police uniform, fresh from his morning shift, with his usual calm smile and a bag of baked goods he claimed were homemade (but Y/N knew they were store-bought).

After opening presents, everyone settled around the fireplace, sipping hot chocolate while Maxwell and Arabella played with their new toys. Y/N sat beside Hoseok on the couch, leaning her head on his shoulder, feeling completely content. The warmth of the fire, the sound of everyone laughing and talking, the smell of pine from the Christmas tree—it was everything she could’ve asked for.

Hoseok wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. "This is nice," he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.

"Yeah, it is," Y/N murmured, closing her eyes and letting the moment wash over her.

They stayed like that for a while, basking in the simplicity of the holiday, surrounded by the people they cared about most. And as the snow continued to fall softly outside, Y/N couldn’t help but think that this was exactly what Christmas was supposed to feel like—full of love, laughter, and the quiet moments that made everything else seem perfect.

As the day wound down, and the fire began to flicker low, Hoseok leaned over and kissed Y/N’s temple, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for being here with me."

Y/N smiled, feeling the weight of his words settle in her chest like a warm blanket. "I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else."

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