#complaining that his uncle is ALWAYS THERE

[chimcess]

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."

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[mariatesstruther]

Okay but Ellie who hates horror movies she likes action movies but horror movies are terrifying, yet she's still watches them with Sarah because she wants to bond with her big sister and Sarah absolutely loves those movies.

Joel putting up with one kid sleeping in his room half the time the girls have the girls night because Ellie gets nightmares from those damn movies but she refuses to not watch him with Sarah and refuses to tell Sarah that they scare her.

joel going out that night: be safe, girls!!!!there’s food in the fridge, and tommy’s comin’ to check in on y’all in a few hours, okay?

sarah and ellie: okay!!!!

joel: and sarah! do NOT let ellie watch any scary movies!!! you know she gets scared!

ellie: i don’t gET SCARED 😡🤬

joel: don’t watch any scary movies!!!! only somethin’ fun!!!!!!!

sarah: but DAD 😏 scary movies ARE fun

joel: NO scary movies. im warnin’ you

sarah: ugh okayyyuh

sarah and ellie, later that night, when ellie has a nightmare and needs sarah to go get joel:

[deepfriedseagullfeet]

have this idea in my head where jack makes the other egos call markiplier "uncle mark"

[eve-is-a-terf]

being just like your mom when your parents are divorced is a little interesting... like how can he love me when i inherited myself from her

[skxrbrand]

[bnnuy-wabbit]

Fucking hate it here. wish my brother was less of a fucking stuck up prick. I wanted to spend the day with my parents but noooo everything has to be the way he wants it to be so now his cousins are running around the house. I spend THE ENTIRE WEEK UTTERLY ALONE AT HOME MAN. I can't even fucking have the WEEKEND to catch up with my parents.

[whorelaud]

꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 kissing you numb ¡

pairing uncle¡rafe cameron x babysitter¡reader

summary babysitting sarah's baby wasn't a problem for you, not when her attractive uncle was around to keep you company, making it extremely hard for you to do your job.

contains fluff, brief sexual content, accidental kiss, making out, sexual tension, confessions (sort of), mutual pining, slightly suggestive towards the end, rafe being a tease, flustered reader, wc; 3.7k

a/n this was sosos fun to write sb had to do it ugh luv uncle rafe 37:$: i hope you guys enjoy hehe!! feel free to request if you wanna!

While managing your busy schedule was diffcult, babysitting was not the worst side-hustle. 

Besides the decent pay, you get to hang out with your friends, take care of baby Jackie, and spend more time with her hot uncle. 

That was not intended, nor was it apart of your plan, however, you were not one to complain. You were sure he knew, he definiltiy caught up on your attraction for him, whether it was the foolish grin that spread across your face, or the way you brighten up when he strikes a conversation. 

Rafe visits often, always using Jackie as an excuse to extend his stay. It would end with the little girl deep asleep, while you two chatted the night away. Most times, you had to force him out, leaving you no choice but to do so whenever his teasing gets too overwhleming for your well being. 

Now, you were well aware of how cocky the latter was, using every chance he gets to tease you over how flustered you grew whenever he, in the slightest bit, flirted with you. He would, out of the blue, drop the most gut-wrenching, bold statement known to earth, indicating that he might’ve been into you. 

However, you didn’t fall for it. You knew Rafe, Sarah would always tell you about him, and how much of a douche-bag (in her words) he was. He’s been with far too many girls for you to trust him, or go further with your feelings for him. 

People change, though, and Rafe might’ve been more desperate than you thought he’d be, implying that maybe, he was being sincere, and it’s not your delusions talking you into things. 

You perked up when you heard a sudden knock on the door, startling you out of your seat. Your attention shifted to Jackie, inserting the pacifier in her mouth before heading towards the entrance. A smile made its way across your lips, well aware of who was behind the door. 

You twisted the doorknob, a breath knocking out of your chest as you caught sight of Rafe, leaning against the wall while he awaited his welcome. A smirk spread across his lips, showcasing the single dimple on his cheek. 

You rolled your eyes, tilting your head to the side as your gaze shifted to Rafe, sighing when you noticed the cocky expression plastered on his face. You moved to the side, giving the boy enough space to squeeze through, to which he contently accepted, letting himself inside. 

“What’s good, m’lady?” He grinned, walking past you. “You miss me?” 

“I haven’t had the time to, Mr. Rafe Cameron.” You sarcastically responded, following behind him. “Weren't you just here yesterday?” 

“Hey, am I not allowed to visit my niece now?” He questioned, a dramatic gasp escaping his lips once he spotted the little girl. “There she is, my darling girl.”

You giggled, watching as Rafe approached Jackie, instantly scooping her in his arms. The little girl smiled at the sight of her uncle, reaching for his face with her little hands. He pecked the tips of her fingers, scrunching his face when she scratched him.

“You miss your uncle, baby?” His voice softened, barely above a whisper. “It was insufferable being with her, yeah?” 

“Hey!” You lightly slapped his arm, chin finding the blade of his shoulder, though you could barely maintain your composure with how tall he was. “She loves me.” 

“Mhm,” he glanced over his shoulder, flashing you a knowing grin. “I’m sure of that.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” You dramatically gasped, observing as Rafe placed Jackie back in her crib. 

“Oh, Jackie baby, you’re adorable.” He gently rubbed her chin with his thumb, the gesture earning a wide smile out of the little girl. “Yeah, there you go, you like that?” 

“Mhm, I don’t think she does,” you playfulled responded, making yourself comfortable on the sofa, next to Rafe. “Right, baby? He’s a bit annoying, yeah?” 

“Don’t listen to her, Jackie.” Rafe chuckled, slightly turning to face you. “She’s trying to ruin our bond.” 

“Oh, hush.” You avoided his gaze, feeling goosebumps break out across your arms when your bare skin made contact with his. “Should we kick him out again? He’s been spending a concercing amount of time with us, don’t you think?” 

“Us?” He questioned, teasing hinted in his tone. “Who said I’m here for you? I’m only here for Jackie.” 

“Mhm, yeah sure.” You playfully replied, leaning back in your seat. 

Rafe turned to face you, smirking once he caught the flustered mess he had created out of you. He darted his tongue out to coat his lips with a layer of spit, turning towards Jackie with a scoff. 

“Okay, yeah maybe I’m here for her too.” Rafe started, veiling your presence. “Don’t tell her I said that, though. She’s a brat, she’ll probably never let it go.”  

“Shut up.” You muttered, feeling heat crawl past your neck, all the way to your face. 

It usually stops here, you never go past that stage, brushing off his flirting as a joke, and shifting the attention back to Jackie. Either that, or Sarah and Johb B, therefore, you weren’t anticipating a response, nor anything that would stir up your emotions. 

“And what would you do to make me shut up?” He questioned, adjusting his position until he was manspreading. “I’m quite intrigued on what you might do.”  

Your heart skipped a beat at the flirtatious statement, the boldness in his voice knocking a breath out of your chest. You felt your mouth go dry as the boy turned in your direction, mind going hazy when your eyes locked with his. 

You could’ve sworn his eyes flickered to your lips, but that might’ve been your vision, because no way. Rafe Cameron? Not in a million years, you knew it was not happening, especially with how complicated things were. 

He was your friend’s brother, what were to happen if you did get together, and it eventually fell apart? That would create awkward tension between you and Sarah, therefore, you didn't want that, especially with how much you cherish the girl. 

However, you chose to take the risk, using the dim darkness seeping through the windows as an excuse for your response, although you know it was risky, tempting, could ruin whatever you had with Rafe, even if it was mere banter. 

“I can think of a few ways, actually.” Your voice dropped barely above a whisper, knee brushing over his leg. 

“Yeah?” He questioned, slinging his arm over your shoulder. “Care to enlighten me, doll?” 

Your stomach stirred at the pet name, lips parting with an exhale. To say you were nervous was underestimating it. Rafe’s gaze burned holes through your skin, as well as the hand that lightly traced the blade of your shoulder, not much of help for your situation. 

You gulped, eyes trailing down to his lips, suddenly feeling desire wash over you, too wrapped up in your own head to think it through. However, before you could get a chance to do anything you could regret, Rafe suddenly turned his attention to Jackie, the action startling a sigh of relief out of you. 

You cleared your throat, attempting to maintain your cool as you admired Rafe while he played with Jackie, entertaining the little girl. She took liking into it, her smile wide on her lips as her fingers fiddled in the air, trying to reach for Rafe’s hand while he teasingly retrieved them from her touch. 

It was so adorable, the sight melting your heart, you weren’t able to contain the smile spreading across your lips. You knew of Rafe’s poor relationship with Sarah in the past, the boy distancing himself when they grew apart. Yet, here Rafe was, taking care of her daughter while she was away. It was endearing, to say the least. 

You leaned over his shoulder when you noticed Jackie dozing off, eyes widening as Rafe turned around, the gesture ceasing the distance between you as your lips collided with Rafe’s in a chaste kiss. Your breath knocked out of your chest, the sensation of his mouth against yours spiraling you over the edge. 

His lips were so soft, you lingered for a moment before letting realization wash over you, eventually returning back to reality. You pulled out with a small pop, attention shifting to Rafe, who remained in his position. 

A smirk leisurely tugged at his lips, eyes never leaving you as a hand came up to cover your mouth, disbelief visible on your face. Rafe’s teeth dug into his bottom lip, amused by how flustered you grew from besides him. 

“I– that was not intentional–” you stammered, face flushing with a mix of embarrassment and the desire of wanting more, even if it was for a mere second. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry, Rafe.” 

“It’s okay,” he snickered, “Why are you panicking?” 

“Because,” you shot back, a frustrated sigh escaping your throat. “I didn’t mean to do it, and I don’t want to make things uncomfortable between–”

Before you could further speak, Rafe cut you off with a kiss as he captured your lips in between his. It was the answer to your worries, and while you were shocked, it did wash relief over you. His mouth moved against yours, the gesture subtle, barely even there, though you took notice of it, instantly returning the kiss. 

You hummed into the kiss, taking his face in between your fingers as you brought his face even closer, feeling his nose brush over yours. He tilted your head to the side to deepen the kiss as he captured your bottom lip in between his teeth. 

Rafe nibbled on your lips, earning a muffled gasp out of you. The boy took the gesture as an opportunity, using it to explore the inside of your mouth with his tongue. You almost yelped as you felt his arms sneaking around your waist, tracing down to your sides as he tugged at the skin, nails digging into your skin. 

At this point, your brain was mush, no words could describe how desperate you were to have his lips on you, growing drunk to the mere taste of him. You knew it, you were well aware of that fact; that when you got to taste him, you’d never be able to get enough. 

And that was exactly your situation in the moment, tangled in Rafe’s hold as he kissed you numb, leaving you with nothing but despair, lust, the desire of wanting him, it consumed you as a whole. 

With enough guidance, Rafe managed to plop you on his lap, slinging both of your thighs over his legs, to make you comfortable around him. You adjusted your position, freezing in your spot when Rafe groaned into your mouth, causing realization to wash over you. 

You blushed, feeling your ass brush over his crotch area, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. You moved away for a moment, staring down at the boy as you now hovered over him, the angle driving you insane. 

He looked so good, his eyes hazed up, barely able to keep them open as he parted his swollen lips with a breath. He squeezed your sides, chasing after your lips, in an attempt to capture them in between his. 

“Sorry.” You whispered, not sounding apologetic at all. 

“Mhm.” Rafe hummed, taking you in between his lips again, this time with more keen. 

He was like a starving man, you have never seen him like this before. Sure, he was a flirt, he had his way around with women, but hell, had you known he was such a good kisser, you would’ve made the discovery sooner. 

His hand found the blade of your shoulder, trailing up the exposed flesh, until it reached the strap of your bra. He toyed with the material, dipping his fingers underneath, using the digits to slide it down your arm. 

You moaned at the action, unable to suppress it any longer with the boy’s hand roaming around your body, exploring every curve he could lay his touch on. You couldn’t believe, nor did you want it to end, you wanted it to last an eternity, even if it meant getting your heart broken. 

Because, how could you resist him? How could you when he’s there, existing and looking so attractive while doing it?

Your face heated, feeling blush crawl past your neck, right to your face as you felt something harden beneath you. You pulled away for a second, lips ghosting over his, as your forehead collided, the sensation of his hot breath fanning over your flesh sent tingles through your body. 

Rafe littered open-mouthed kisses to your lips, the sound of your mouth colliding with a pop the only thing heard over the silence seeping through the air. His hands squeeze around your hips, you were sure his hold bruised your sides. 

And that thought, it drove you crazy, knowing he was marking his territory, not afraid to show people that something went down between you, though, you knew he was against it. Come on, this was the Rafe Cameron, it should be obvious this was a mere fling, but for now, you chose to ignore it, look past that and enjoy the pleasure he’s spiraling through your body. 

He littered kisses down your jaw, trailing all the way to your throat, until he was nuzzled in the crook of your neck. You gasped, accidentally grinding down when Rafe’s teeth grazed over your flesh, followed with a nibble afterwards. 

Your hands found his hair, fingernails brushing his buzzed hair, the sensation causing the boy to groan. You almost chuckled at his reaction, but chose to hold it down, knowing how whiny Rafe gets whenever you tease him. 

“Fuck, baby.” He muffled a whimper out, retrieving his head from the crook of your neck. “You’re so pretty, jus’ wanna cherish you forever.”

You came to a halt, the hushed words catching you off guard. You fluttered your eyes down at him, parting your lips to speak, merely to be interrupted by the kiss that followed. You almost yelped, quickly relaxing into it after a moment. 

It was a mere peck, with the boy lingering for a moment to taste you on his lips, merely to indicate that he wanted this, just as much as you did. You felt him smile against your lips, the gesture causing you to grow embarrassed. 

Your eyes widened, when you suddenly heard Jackie whine, implying that the little girl had woken up. You pressed your hands to Rafe’s chest, applying enough pressure to push the latter away as he chased after your lips. 

Your fingers came into view, hovering them over his lips to stop him from further moving. Your attention shifted to Jackie, causing Rafe to follow your gaze as you caught sight of the little girl shuffling around in her crib, showcasing that something was making her uncomfortable. 

Right, you were babysitting. 

You instantly shuffled off Rafe’s lap, making your way toward the little girl, whose eyes shifted to you once you approached her. Rafe on the other hand, cleared his throat, attempting (and failing) to get a hold of himself. He fixed his position, gaze burning through you as you tried to find Jackie's source of discomfort. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” You asked, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Are you hungry? You want me to feed you?”

“Listen,” Rafe started, immediately interrupted by you perking up to grab Jackie’s bottle from beside him. 

“Let me feed Jackie first.” You replied before he could further talk, flashing him a quick smile before heading towards the kitchen. 

What the fuck was that? Did you just kiss Rafe cameron? With his niece around, at that? 

You were supposed to be taking care of her, yet, there you were, making out with her attractive uncle while she was asleep. Your face flushed with embarrassment, not capable of facing Rafe, hoping he’d disappear while you make Jackie’s bottle.

You regret it, because you know he will. He’ll look past it, act like nothing happened, and pretend it was all for show, just like he usually does, with every other girl. How were you any different? And why would he be genuine?

It never made sense, no matter how much he fed into your delusions, you chose to stay sane about it, considering reality before you fell head over heels. You’ve had this attraction towards him ever since you befriended Sarah, and it continued off from there, growing within every moment you spent with the boy.

In your head, this was definitely unrequited, nothing more than a mistake that you both will regret for obvious reasons, therefore, when you headed back, you wwe definitely not expecting to see Rafe, who busied himself with Jackie, distracting her until you were back. 

Your breath hitched at the sight, heart melting into pieces as you further approached the pair, earning Rafe’s attention as he glanced over his shoulder. He sat upright, giving you enough space to come through and give Jackie her bottle. 

“There you go, sweetheart.” He hummed, staring at Jackie as she sipped on her bottle. “You're hungry, huh? Is that why you interrupted us?” 

“Rafe!” You almost broke your neck with how swiftly you turned your head in the boy’s direction, the remark catching you off guard. 

“What?” He started, avoiding your gaze for a moment before trailing his eyes back to you. “Were we not having a moment?” 

“I– well…” You trailed off, stammering over your words. 

“What?” He questioned, “You regret it?”

“Do you?” You shot back, anxiousness visible through your tone. 

“Why would I kiss you if I was going to regret it?” He snorted, staring at you with disbelief. “C’mon, I don’t jus’ kiss anyone.” 

“Well,” you cocked your head to the side, squinting your eyes with suspicion. “That’s not…” 

“Okay, shut up.” He rolled his eyes, giggling at your response. “That was in the past, I’m a changed man.” 

“Changed man, huh?” You chuckled along, unable to hide the blush forming on your cheeks. 

“Okay, enough.” He clicked his teeth, lightly shoving your shoulder. 

“What?!” You defensively shot back, “I didn’t say anything.” 

“Right,” he nodded his head, inching closer towards you. “Do you really not get it?” 

“Hmm?” You hummed, suddenly growing flustered by how close he has gotten. 

Instead of answering, Rafe leaned in for another kiss, one soft enough, it spoke volumes on his behalf. It was unlike the first one you shared, this one was tender, so full of endearment, it overwhelmed you whole. 

He withdrew from the touch, a sheepish smile instantly spreading across his lips. His breath fanned over your face, now mere inches away from you, the gesture invading your personal space. 

“Does this answer your question?’ He whispered, lips ghosting over yours. 

“What are you doing?” You stumbled over your words, lightly shoving the boy, who admired you with amusement. “You should leave, Jackie keeps wakin’ up ‘cause you’re distracting her.”

“Hey, how is it my fault?” Rafe muttered, lips jutting into a pout. “Not my fault her babysitter is beautiful, I can’t keep my hands to myself when she’s around.” 

“Rafe.” You whisper-yelled, growing flustered by the statement. 

It was surreal, Rafe, liking you? Perhaps, more than you did? You couldn’t believe it. 

“What?!” He chuckled, pecking you once more before moving away. “She’s deep asleep, look at her.”

“Still,” you huffed, nervously biting your lip. “It’s not appropriate.”

“She’s barely six months, darling, relax.” He exclaimed, sneaking a hand over to your waist, letting it settle around your hip. “I’m sure she doesn’t mind setting us up, besides, we’re not doing anythin’ weird.”

“Oh yeah?” You questioned, scoffing at the remark. “Shoving your tongue down my throat is not weird at all?” 

“It’s human nature.” He reasoned, nodding his head. 

You slapped his shoulder, earning a hiss in return as he faked a pained expression. You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress the smile forming on your lips, too endeared by how cute he was acting. 

Maybe going with the flow is not so bad, after all. 

“You should head out, it’s getting late.” You mumbled, using the darkness as an excuse to get rid of him.

You don’t think you’ll be able to hold back if he’s around, especially not now, with how tempting he was being. 

“There you go,” he huffed, shooting up from his seat. “Kickin’ me out again.”

You giggled at his response, following behind as he made his way towards the door. He unlocked the doorknob, turning to face you before he could exit. 

“I’ll leave then, let me know if you need anything in particular.” He muttered, eyes flickering to your lips. “Also, lock the door, and wait until Sarah and John be get back, don’t open it unless you know who it is, okay?” 

“Relax, you’re acting as if I’m about to get kidnapped.” You crossed your arms, leaning against the door as your gaze shifted up to meet Rafe’s, who was now towering over you. “Besides, Sarah and John B aren't coming back tonight, I’m babysitting overnight.”

“Oh?” Rafe stood upright, a smirk replacing his worried expression from earlier. “I wasn’t aware of that.” 

“Well, now you are.” You slightly shoved his torso, feeling his broad chest through the thin fabric of his shirt. “Leave, I know you’ll jus’ keep delaying your stay until it’s too late.”

“Maybe I could stay a bit longer,” He started, voice dropping into a whisper as he took a step forward, causing you to take one back. “You know, keep you company while they’re away.” 

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” You beamed, hand finding his chest once again as you fisted his shirt with your fingers, the gesture earning a sly grin out of the latter. 

“It wouldn’t hurt.” He pressed you against the wall, stealing an open-mouthed kiss from your lips. “Besides, I get to protect you, and we could take turns looking out for Jackie.” 

“You know that’s not why you’re staying.” You muttered, barely able to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. 

“Mhm, you’re right.” Hr replied. 

And with that, the boy ceased the distance as he collided your lips in a chaste kiss, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he carried you to the guest bedroom. 

Therefore, you didn’t mind babysitting, especially when Rafe Cameron was keeping you company. 

[motorsportbarbie13]

Christmas Showdown

In which you and Lando run into an ex-boyfriend while you're home for the holidays.

Warnings: talk of abusive relationship (no details though). Established relationship. Protective Lando. This could probably be better and it's pretty short buttttttt I needed to get this out of my head, so enjoy! Pairing: Lando Norris x Girlfriend!Reader Word Count: 1.8k words

Master List

It had been several years since you spent the holidays in your small Midwestern hometown. Usually, your family flew out to London or Monaco to spend the holiday’s with you there, much preferring to leave Michigan’s several feet of snow that was typically on the ground during Christmas. This year was different thought. Your grandmother had been too ill to make the long flight so instead, you came to them. Which was fine with you, you had missed seeing friends that were home for the holidays and missed the nostalgic nights spent around the Christmas tree with your family. The one person who was not fine with it, however, was your boyfriend. 

Lando Norris simply hated the cold. He hated being cold. Hated thinking about the cold. Hated the snow. Anytime the temperature dipped below 50 degrees Fahrenheit ( which also a fight you two had often was how he refused to learn the difference between Fahrenheit and Celsius while also simultaneously refusing to do the same for him.) So you knew he must really be down bad for you when he had agreed (albeit a bit sluggishly) to spend the Christmas holiday with you in your (freezing) hometown. 

There was minimal complaining for the first few days you were at home, mostly because it the weather was fair enough to not be something comparable to the North Pole, but trouble arose the day of your Aunt and Uncle’s infamous Christmas party. The first sign of trouble was your brother’s insistence on a family outing to the sledding hill that was a few miles from your house. Of course Lando had packed several parkas but when he had seen the Canada Goose store in the mall the day before, he had bought the thickest, best cold rated puffer jacket he could find. Despite that and several layers of long johns and sweaters, by the time you reached the sledding hill your poor boyfriend was shivering like your grandma’s ancient chihuahua. 

To his credit though, there was not one single utterance of a complaint or plea to go back to your parents house for a cup of hot chocolate then entire time. Lando happily chased your nieces and nephews around the sledding hill and even went down the hill a few times with you. 

“Okay, folks!” Your dad calls out as the afternoon sun hangs low in the sky. “I think it’s time we all head home and get ready for Judy and Steve’s party tonight. I expect everyone to be at their house by 7pm sharp!” The ‘this reminder is for your benefit’ look that your dad sends you has your already wind chapped face turning even more red. 

“I don’t know why you’re glaring at me! I’m always on time!” You shout, grabbing for Lando’s hand. “We’ll see you guys tonight!” 

Once you get in the Range Rover that Lando had rented for the two week visit, he immediately turns the heated seats on full power and cranks up the heat. 

“Do you want to swing by Starbucks and get something warm before going home?” You ask as Lando pulls out of the park and onto the snowy street. “I feel like I might need to just get you an IV of hot chocolate at this point.” 

Lando gives you a sidelong glare. “I think I have icicles in my nose hairs.” 

Laughter tumbles out of you, quick and light, sending a thrill of pleasure down Lando’s spine. You two had been dating for a few years now and there were still times he’d look over at you and think ‘how the fuck did I convince this girl to be my girlfriend?’. You had come into his life at a particularly challenging time and had been his rock since day one. 

“Starbucks it is, my poor little snowman. There’s one up here in this strip mall. Turn left at this light and then it’s on the right.” 

The parking lot, which is a shared lot with several other big box stores, is an absolute zoo and you can see the line snaking around the inside of the Starbucks before you even go in. To save some time, Lando drops you off at the front door while he goes and finds a spot for the large SUV. 

The line is long when you get inside but you’re thankful to at least be out of the bitter cold. While you wait in line, you mindlessly scroll on your Instagram, which is locked down tighter than Fort Knox. Going private on all socials and not being featured heavily on Lando’s had been one of the things you two had agreed upon when things started getting serious nearly two years ago now. People who were huge Lando fans knew who you were but the casual F1 fan probably wouldn’t have been able to pick you out of a lineup. 

Your casually scrolling, minding your own business, when a deep voice calling your name jolts you out of your little social media bubble. 

“Jeff?” You sputter, surprised to see your college boyfriend standing in front of you in line, huge smile on his face. 

Jeff had been one of the guys you and your best friends had drooled over in high school, having been nearly two years ahead of you when you were teens. You didn’t start dating him until your freshman year of college, when he was already a junior. To say the man was toxic was an understatement. In fact, now that you had a few years distance between the now and the end of the relationship, you could confidently say Jeff had been pretty abusive. 

“Hey, stranger!” He says, leaning in for a hug. You go completely still, totally unprepared to be faced with the man who had caused you so much trauma in the two years you had dated. “I have’t seen you in ages, visiting your family for the holidays?” 

You toss a look over your shoulder, desperately wishing for Lando to come walking in the door. “Uh, yeah. First time in a few years. I usually fly them over to London or Monaco for the holidays.” 

A dark shadow passes over Jeff’s face at the mention of where you live now. “Monaco, huh? You always thought you were too good for us here, didn’t you?” 

Your stomach twists painfully at the look in his eyes and you briefly consider just turning around and walking right out of the Starbucks without your drinks.

Before you can stutter out a response, a strong pair of large hands wraps around your waist as Lando drops his head onto your shoulder. “Darling. Baby. Sweetheart. Love of my life." Lando croons in your ear, not yet picking up on your body language. "I adore you but why the fuck did you have to be born in a place where the air hurts your face?” 

You laugh stiffly despite yourself. “Talk to my parents about that one, love.” 

Lando drops a kiss on your cheek before looking over at the other man. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were talking to someone.” 

Across from you, Jeff had been watching this exchange between Lando and you with an increasing amount of annoyance. Who the fuck was this and why was he calling you the love of his life? 

“Lando, this is Jeff.” You turn slightly, giving Lando a knowing look which he catches onto immediately. “Jeff, this is my boyfriend, Lando.” 

“That’s an interesting name. Only heard that name twice before, once in Star Wars and…” Jeff’s voice drops off as he finally makes the connection. “Wait. Lando…as in Lando Norris?” 

The smug grin that stretches across Lando’s face nearly has you giggling. “That’s me. And you’re Jeff, huh? I’ve heard a lot about you. None of it good.” 

Lando remembered the first time you had ever opened up to him a few months into dating about how you had been in an abusive relationship in college and how much work it had taken to recover from it. He had been your first serious relationship after leaving Jeff, having left the country just to get away from him. Internally, Lando raged at the man standing in front of you two, the protective instinct in him screaming to just lay the guy out right here.

Jeff’s already ruddy face turns red with incandescent rage. You had totally forgotten he was a big Formula One fan and when you remember the fact that not only is he an F1 fan, but a huge McLaren fan, the urge to giggle hits you again. Oh, this was just too good. 

“How’d you…” Jeff stutters. “How’d you manage to bag yourself a Formula 1 driver?” 

The question is a pathetic attempt to rile you up and insult you but both you and Lando see that question for exactly what it is. 

Lando plants another kiss on your cheek and you know he’s doing it to be an asshole. “I was actually the one who pursued her. She turned me down left and right for nearly a year, didn’t you baby?” 

You nod, remembering the way Lando had come into your office at the McLaren Tech Center day after day just to make small talk at first but finally had worked up the nerve to ask you out. You were one of the newer people on the comms team back then and you hand’t wanted to jeopardize the career you had worked so hard for so you had turned him down for nearly a year, insisting that you wanted nothing more than a friendship with the driver. 

“But eventually, he wore me down. He flew me to Monaco and took me out on his yacht for our first date, it was all very romantic.” It had actually been Max’s yacht, but Jeff didn’t need to know that bit. 

You can see Jeff practically seething at this point, knowing that you’re doing so well and he’s still apparently stuck in your hometown. 

“And how are you doing, Jeff? Still working at your dad’s law firm? How is Vance doing? And Laura?” You know it’s killing him, asking about his parents by their first name. 

Jeff just blinks at you for a few moments, realizing you weren’t the little girl he used to push around and take advantage of in college anymore. “Made partner last year, actually.” 

“That must be easy to do when your dad owns the practice, huh?” Lando says, voice nothing but light innocence. 

Jeff’s eyes bounce between you and Lando for several moments before he suddenly reaches into his pocket. “If you’d excuse me, it looks like the office is calling me.” 

“A call from the office the day before Christmas! Gosh, you must be very important, Jeffery.” Lando’s low blow to Jeff’s big ego hits true and without another word, the man scampers out of the Starbucks without a second glance in your direction. 

Once he’s gone, both you and Lando dissolve into giggles, your head finding it’s favorite spot on Lando’s shoulder. “I’m surprised he didn’t try to deck you there are the end.” 

“And mess up his pretty lawyer hands? Honey, I doubt he even knows how to throw a punch.” 

tag list @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago

[blkkizzat]

COME PUT THAT MILLI★N D★LLAR PU$$Y ON ME, MAKE ME RICH!

FARMHAND!TOJI X BIMBOBUNNY!READER

☼ summary: au. a quiet farm life and a young pretty thing—what more could an ex-con want? you're a bit of a brat, but that can be fixed too. ☼ wc: 4.0k ☼ cw: age gap, panty flashing, voyeurism, brat!reader, fantasizing, spit play, biting, hickies, breeding kink, olfactophilia, teasing, perverted toji, morally ambiguous toji, creampies, squirting, unprotected, pet names: Bunny and standard p in v stuff. ☼ a/n: idk y'all farmhand!toji possessed my mind. literally did this all in tumblr drafts again today. Lets see if tumblr actually lets me post this or cucks me again.

FarmHand!Toji who only got the job in the first place because of a prison rehabilitation program. It was either work on a farm or rot in a cell for another 2 years.

Toji chose the farm.

The work wasn't easy, but Toji couldn't complain. It was a very large farm, secluded and he was paid well—but most importantly?

It kept his fuckin' P.O. off his back.

Toji works on the farm for three grueling months until you, the farmer's niece, arrives for the summer to also work.

Well, 'work' wasn't really the right word, because you never did any thing of the sort.

Barely, 19 and kicked out of your house for smoking pot. Your parents sent you to your uncle, hoping the hard work and the ex-cons he had working for him would scare you straight. Additionally, due to the fact your Uncle had no wife and no kids, the sole owner of a large farm, the old bastard was pretty well off. As the only child of your dad, his only sibling, farm would eventually be left to you.

Everyone (not like you had a say) agreed you should know how to run it.

But the thing is—you suck at everything.

You're too flighty to work with the chickens, too prissy clean the pig cages and you'd complain you'd break a nail just from lifting an empty bucket—so milking cows were also out of the question.

Yet you still managed to get your work done.

Precisely cause you weren't the one doing it.

Aware of your youthful looks and charms, you don't hesitate to use them to your advantage.

Your shapely curves are always clad in some in a thin wispy dress, which would turn damn near see-through at the smallest bit of moisture. Wearing no bra and the tiniest of panties, you were always giving a show.

No you weren't scared of these ex-cons in the least bit.

Evident by the way you flounce around the farm, unabashfully, pretending to do the chores the women-starved prisoners were too eager to do for you.

For their efforts you reward them with smiles, blown kisses and sugary words. Sometimes for rewards came in the form of a peach you would sneak them from your uncle's grove.

Always bringing one for yourself you'd sensually bite into the ripen fruit. Allowing its juices to linger on your cherry-glossed lips and dribble down your chin—the slurping noises are the perfect fapping fodder for them.

Yet the best prize of all—and only if you were feeling particularly generous—a flash of panties.

Toji though had not fallen for your charms though.

Not that he wasn't susceptible to them, hell naw—he wanted to bend your pretty ass over the nearest fence and roughly fuck some decency, along with manners into your haughty lil' cunt.

But Toji, as well as any of the prisoners, knew better than to touch you. Not only were they risking their freedom, with even the slightest offense here was enough to send them back to the pen—they were also risking their lives.

Your uncle was no fool. The older man regularly carried a sawed off shotgun slung over his shoulder, which used to be a pistol before you arrived.

The farmer didn't make it a big announcement, simply reminding them it was prison or a grave if they fucked this opportunity up—but the underlying message was crystal clear:

He'd blow anyone to hell who even thought about touching his niece.

Oh, but Toji did think about touching you—alot.

Often staying up late in his shared bunk room—jerking his cock to a frilly pair of panties of yours he'd stolen off the laundry line—once he was sure the others had gone to bed.

Toji wants to teach you a lesson badly.

Not for your benefit though, it be payback for all your goddamn teasing.

Toji isn't a pushover for you.

Nicknaming you 'Bunny' since you were such a clumsy lil ditz. He often made his silly lil bunny do whatever work he was stationed at when you had chores there—yours and his.

And oh, you hated that. You only tried harder when none of your pouts, provocations and seductions move him. It was pure hell, but Toji had resisted every trick you had. An unintended benefit however, was that he'd likely seen every pair of panties you owned by now (which is why he had stolen his favorite).

At one point, when you were particularly annoying one day, Toji even tried straight up ignoring you.

Yet that didn't work either.

You only upped the ante, 'accidentally' spilling a whole bucket of cow's milk on yourself. The very color of your perky nips are clearly visible, poking through the now transparent fabric which clings to you like second skin.

Staring Toji dead in his eyes, a coy smile on your plump lips as your pink manicured nails rubbed circles over your soaked nubs.

It took everything Toji had in him that day not to force you down to the dirt floor, fucking your pussy open just as hard and flithy as you'd been asking for.

Turning away from you, he threw a hay laden blanket over you and told you to go back up to the house n' clean up.

Toji didn't miss how badly you pouted, even though he pretended not to care. You reluctantly listened to him, leaving the barn and back to the main house up the hill.

You were both playing with fire.

Yet from that point something broke in Toji.

He still never crosses the line to touching you, but he'd starts pushing your buttons.

He wants to rile you up just as you had him.

As a result, Toji is working around you without a shirt more often—sometimes even with a raging hard on in full view. Also he doesn't hold back any longer from any of the vulgar thoughts of you that cross his mind. Regularly vocalizing them with a smirk, making overtly perverted comments towards you.

This was even something the other prisoners were too pussy to do to, given the very real threats of your farmer uncle.

Yet Toji wouldn't be a two-time ex-con he is if he didn't mind gambling with his life for a big reward. Toji relishes in your flustered, indignant reactions, loving to see how your face heats up everytime without fail every time he teases his lil' slut, his sultry voice whispering things like:

"I bet y'er cunt is riper than those peaches, Bunny."

"Bunny—think your pretty pussy can squirt more milk than these cow udders?"

"I wonder if my lil' Bunny can actually ride dick, since she's not half bad on a horse?"

You'd call him a 'perverted old man' like you weren't anything more than just a causal cocktease yourself—obviously you get some sick satisfaction knowing you had every man on this farm but Toji at your beck and call.

In reality, you were just as twisted in nature as him.

Still you were stubborn.

And as retaliation for his resistance, you play all manners of pranks on Toji. Doing anything you could so it was harder for him to do his job—from stealing his work gloves, boots and tools—to more serious ones like letting a weasel loose in the chicken coop when it was his shift to collect the eggs.

You deemed it your right to punish him for teasing you, for not becoming one of your simps and most fiendish of all?

Making you actually do work.

You harass him so often, it's not long before Toji realizes you're seeking him out intentionally.

Not even bothering to visit the other workstations where your chores are, they would get done by your lil'fan boys regardless, in favor of following him around all day like a lost lil' chick.

On a particularly hot n' sweltering summer day, Toji is stuck with the job of moving machinery from one side of the farm to the other when the sun is at its highest.

Like usual, he's since removed his sweat-drenched work shirt—remaining only in unhooked overalls and his briefs.

Toji hasn't seen you though, which isn't surprising given how broiling it is outside. Someone with as delicate a disposition as you, who also happened to be as manipulative, probably convinced your uncle to let you laze around inside the house, away from the heat—and Toji.

But you were a needy little thing, always seeking attention. Toji occupies his thoughts for most of the morning imagining you growing so bored, not having him to harass and all day.

With idle hands and absolutely nothing else to do, you'd start playing with that plump lil' pussy of yours, wouldn't you?

A supple girl like you had to overflow like a dam. Toji would bet money you'd already be wet enough, even untouched, to drench his fingers—just from palming your ripe pussy in his hand.

He wouldn't mind taking more than a sip of you on a miserable day like this to quench his thirst.

Continuing his work (and lewd thoughts of you) until his break, Toji discovers he's misplaced his work shirt.

Searching for it in the heat proves annoying—it's not on the grazing pasture fences, nor in the workshed by the machines. Tsk, he swore he had taken it with him to his last station near the horses.

Passing by the cow barn, Toji hasn't had a shift in there today but he absentmindedly remembers there's was a water hose in there. He could at least cool off for the remainder of his break—maybe even rub one out to you.

However, upon sliding open the Toji's smirk grows almost bigger than the hefty cock in his pants.

Looks like he hit the jackpot, today.

There you were in the middle the of the barn, on your back in the hay, thin dress bunched up past your hips and panties dangling off one of your shapely legs—all while feverishly fingering your fat wet lil' cunt.

You salaciously had even dripped a dark sizeable puddle on the dusty floor beneath you.

But the cherry on top?

You're quite shamelessly moaning out cries of his name, uncaring of who could happen to passby and hear you.

'T-Toji!'

'T-Toji, fuck me harder, Daddy!'

All while your pretty angelic face is twisted in pleasure, eyes closed and nose buried deep in the fabric of his soiled work shirt.

Daddy? Oh how fucking filthy of you—God you were perfect slut, just his fuckin' type.

Solely focused on cumming, your hips thrust up desperately to meet your fingers as he stalks closer to you—looking every bit of the predatory ex-convict he is.

"Well, well look at what we got ourselves here doll....n'here I thought the only degenerates on this farm were us prisoners?"

Your eyes widen in shock, but you don't stop your fingers right away. You were so close to your release before Toji suddenly appeared in front of you, there's no way you could physically stop chasing it now.

Not when it only takes a lingering glance at his dark features, muscular tanned sweat slick body, and the painfully obvious way his dick jumps in his pants to have you falling over the edge. You gush, mewling as you cream around your delicate lil' fingers.

"You've been a very naughty lil' bunny..."

Sheepishly pulling them out, covered in your slick, Toji's eyes zero in on the way your hole still gapes open. You're cunt quite literally throbbing for more, you'd cum but she's still left unsated.

You clearly needed something much bigger and harder than your flimsy little digits.

You unconsciously back up deeper into the bushels of hay around, putting distance between you as Toji gets closer.

"Tsk, tsk, nuh-uh Bunny, none of that shit. Not when I just caught you being such a whore for me."

You gulp, your heart racing as he crouches over you. Toji removes his work gloves, discarding them as he forces you to lay back on the soft hay.

“How sweet of you to prep yourself for me babydoll. But, Bunny, you dumb little girl, you’re too careless. What if it wasn’t me who walked in 'ere and saw you playing with my pussy?”

You didn't think of that, when you had so brazenly snuck up without him noticing to nab his work shirt.

Initially, you wanted to just be annoying to him again, too bored of being in the house all morning. At first you recoiled when you touched his soggy shirt, yet that all flipped once you caught of whiff of his scent.

Toji smelled of a farm but somehow that smell mixed with sweat, musk and notes of his aftershave hit you straight in your cunt. Your panties becoming just as drenched as the shirt in your hands.

You didn't realize Toji, grimy from farm work, could still smell so good.

Knowing it was far past the time for anyone to come milk cows, you headed straight to that barn. You just wanted some alone time, where you'd be free to touch yourself while thinking of the ridiculously sexy ex-con farmhand.

To say Toji had been plaguing your thoughts and dreams for the past few weeks would have been a massive understatement. You were obsessed with him. Him and his irritatingly smug expression, accentuated by his scar that made him appear all the more dangerous—you wanted him to fuck you—your uncles warnings be damned.

"You tryna get me to do more time, girl? Ya know Bunny, I'd kill anyone who touched you, if your uncle didn't get to 'em first."

Your face is hot with embarrassment but your cunt is also burning up—thinking you might die if he doesn’t actually touch you soon.

Letting his coveralls drop unceremoniously to the floor, he shrugs off his remaining clothes.

Toji's calloused hands, smudged with oil and grime, grab your hips and yank you to him. You yelp and his cock twitches even harder at your cute lil noises, smearing pre on your already soaked thighs.

Toji presses his sweaty body onto yours. It's cool in the barn but Toji's heat is so intense you feel like you are out in the sun again. Having him on top of you like this finally is overwhelming your senses. Toji is intoxicating and you're so feral with need for him it makes you dizzier than a heatstroke.

Fuck, you looked so ready for him.

He'd love you take his time to really break you in—make you fall apart until he's screwed every word out of your head but his own name.

Tch—but there's about 10 more minutes left of his break—and a good 15 or so more after that before anyone notices he's not where he should be.

Toji would reluctantly have to make this quick. Snatching your dress off overhead, he tosses it across the barn.

Mouth latching to one of your stiffened nipples, Toji simultaneously bullies his cockhead past your entrance, sinking into your slippery cunt.

Both of your collective groans fill the barn.

Goddamn, you're fuckin' tight.

Your eyes go wide and moisture pricks your vision as the sting of his girthy cock splitting you open nearly brakes you. You weren't a virgin by any means, and you knew Toji was huge—but shit—it was way bigger in thickness and length than you could have imagined.

Toji has to physically take your legs and wrap them around his body so they stop convulsing.

You whine for him to wait a moment but he couldn't—he didn't have the time.

Toji cups your face, unintentionally smearing dirt across your warm pristine lil' cheek.

"Daddy doesn't have time to wait for ya Bunny, can't get caught by y'er mean ole uncle, yeah?"

"*sniffs* I-I know, b-but—"

"No buts, baby—you want me to fuck ya, rite? Then just lay back and be good doll—promise I'll make ya feel good, eh?"

You can't stop the tears that roll down your cheeks, the burning still evident in your cunt as your walls spasm around him. Toji nuzzles your neck, grunts fanning across your sweetly scented skin as he begins moving his hips.

Soon the sounds of wet flesh smacking, resound in the barn with every harsh thrust of Toji's broad hips. The sloppy squelching noises your pussy cries out has Toji feeling like she's talking directly to him.

Sweat drips off his brow and onto your face as he pulls back a bit to see just how well your slutty lil' hole is globbling him right up—you already frothing a ring of cream around his base like such a good girl—like you were made to take his dick.

Your teeth bite into his shoulder and your nails rake red streaks across his back when his fat cockhead brushes against your g-spot.

Instantly, the shocks vibrating in your cunt overtake any remaining discomfort from your pussy accommodating his massive cock. Your tiddies bounce violently whe he picks up speed rocking into your cunt—spurred on by your cute bites gnawing into him.

Toji would mark you up similarly.

God you were so fuckin' wet though, milking him so well.

For all the trouble you gave him your lil' pussy was obedient as hell once she got a lil' dick in her.

"T-Tojiiiii, puh-leaseee k-kiss me, Daddy!"

Slurring, you gaze up at him, eyes blown out in pleasure begging for more of him—for anything he'd give you.

"Yeah, baby, Bunny wants Daddy to kiss her, hm?"

You frantically nod, your whole body is tingling. You just want to feel him consume you completely, all parts of you.

"Heh, of course I'll kiss my lil' bunny—only if ya let me cum ya—m-motherfuck—ya know how long its been since I had pussy this good doll? Gotta cum in 'er."

Mewling under him, you're easily left at his mercy—yet Toji would show you none, devouring you just as greedily as you wanted him to. Your body responds so well to his praises, so needy for them and Toji doesn't mind indulging you when you're being this sweet for him.

Throwing your legs onto his shoulders, Toji raises your ass off the hay onto his knees as he folds your body in half—fucking into you deeper, abusing your cervix as he smashed his lips onto yours.

Truthfully, there's no way in hell Toji would pull out now.

Making the decision for you, the kiss Toji gives you is searing hot. Sucking on your tongue, Toji has you melting you completely under him, your pussy clamping harder around him. His deviant tongue and heavy cock fucking you into submission.

Hell, she was begging him to cum in her even if you weren't or couldn't—you looked absolutely gone—like not even the smallest thought lived in your fucked out lil' head.

Even when Toji pulls back to allow you air his lips never leave yours, biting your kiss swollen bottom lip almost to the point of drawing blood.

You tighten even more than Toji thought possible in the moment once he forced your mouth open and spits into it and your instantly swallowing it—sticking your tongue out for more.

Oh? Bunny becomes such a dirty whore once you're fucking her silly, eh?

Toji wonders what else of his you'd swallow. He'd save that for next time though.

For now Toji had to finish you, he was running out of time. Besides, he was speaking true earlier, he really hadn't had good pussy—pussy at all—in literal fuckin' years. Toji didn't think he could last much longer in a hole with as much wet suction as yours, even if he did have more time.

Slipping a hand between your slick bodies, Toji is now furiously thumbing circles on your sensitive clit.

"C'mon, Bunny baby, cum for Daddy, yeah? Squirt on this dick, just like you did your fingers earlier, doll."

Your body, utterly under the spell of his engorged cock which was currently digging into your kidneys, can't do anything but obey him.

Tumbling over your peak, you do as he asks, splashing fluids onto his pelvis, abs and chest with how much squirt he has gushing out of you.

Your head lulls back and Toji has to clasp his hand over your mouth from how loud you started screaming.

His own release follows soon after. Pumping his extra-thick load, all built up and saved over the years for a pussy as sweet as yours, into your well-fucked-open cunt.

Curses and swears pour out of Toji's mouth as remains side you, still pistoning in you with fervor through both your orgasms. Toji doesn't leave the snug warmth of your gooey core until you squeezed out every single drop he had to give you.

Pulling out, Toji immediately rolls over next to you as not to crush you further. Yet, like a magnet, his needy lil' bunny is curling up against his side, a sleepy sated expression on your angelic face.

Toji hated to leave, but he had to haul ass now if he wasn't gonna get caught.

A crude form of aftercare, but Toji hoses the both of you down.

The cold water snapping you from your lethargic afterglow immediately as you pouted and whined—the brat in you almost instantly returning.

But Toji couldn't just let you sleep ass naked, covered in his cum in the hay for your uncle to find you or worse—another prisoner to find you.

Toji was serious. He really would kill someone if they tried anything with you, he'd taken many innocent lives before as a former hitman—he had no qualms killing some no good convicts.

Setting you upright, Toji finds your dress in the hay and puts it on you. It's soiled and dusty but he straightens it enough so you're at least halfway presentable.

Toji knows you're clever enough to think of a lie if questioned further.

Although, you'd better back to the main house quickly, in case those hickies he gave you start showing up. Toji smirks to himself.

Sending you on your way with quick sloppy kiss and a firm smack on the ass, he lets you leave first.

After waiting a few minutes, Toji exits the barn, grinning devilishly upon seeing you.

You're halfway back up the hill to the house by now, but you still steal glances back at him every few paces. Still panting, you're too shy now to meet his own eyes for longer than a second with your coy smiles.

Toji chuckles.

He had you hooked.

Hah, a slut like you? You'd probably be begging for his cock all throughout the day from now on.

However, Toji knows if he keeps fucking you like this he'll soon get you pregnant.

But ya know? That might not be half bad though.

This simple farm life had been a nice change of pace.

And who wouldn't want a young n' tender cunt like yours to dump in daily? Toji would keep you stuffed full, belly round with his kids and soft tiddies full of milk—for his consumption only.

Toji muses once he had finished fucking the brat out of you, Bunny, you'd become the perfect lil' wifey.

It be good for Megumi to have a mom again and some siblings to keep em busy. Toji would finally have a decent place to raise him too, away from the city and his toxic as fuck family who'd Megumi had been with since the first time his dad got locked in the slammer.

Not to mention—the farm was a perfect cover for his con activities that he couldn't wait to back start up.

He'd only able to do so much with the burner phone Shiu smuggled-in for him, concealing in a shipment of animal feed.

Heh.

All Toji needed now was to knock you up, apply pressure on your strict, God-fearing parents to agree to the marriage, and then orchestrate an 'untimely and unfortunate accident' for your uncle. Thereby leaving the farm and the substantial inheritance to you—and by proxy—to him.

Yeah, FarmHand!Toji planned to become Farmer!Toji real soon.

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

☼ a/n: y'all toji be making me write the most twisted nastiest things for him. i realize soft toji just don't do it for me like depraved toxic morally corrupt toji does, i really would let this man ruin my credit fr y'all, he can have it all.

i didn't expect to write this, all in a day but im at the beck and call of my main mans. otaku!gojo and nerd!gero lovers dun hurt me. taglist in reblogs.

☼ comments and reblogs appreciated ‪‪❤︎‬

[keeryhours]

i like the way you kiss me - rafe cameron

Baby daddy! Rafe x Baby mama! Maybank! Reader

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron Masterlist

More Baby Daddy! Rafe

Summary:

i like the way you kiss me

i can tell you miss me

i can tell it hits, hits, hits, hits

not tryna be romantic,

i’ll hit it from the back

just so you don’t get attached

Rafe stops over for a surprise visit with his daughter. She may not be home, but that doesn’t mean he has to leave, does it?

Warnings:

Smut (18+ only!), p in v, fingering, dirty talk, slight breeding kink

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N:

Yay, my first Rafe fic! And y’all I haven’t written smut in years so I hope this isn’t awful. I would love to turn this into a sort-of series of interconnected baby daddy! Rafe and baby mama! reader one shots if you guys would be interested in that!

—

“Maaaamaaaaa!”

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself when you were woken up by the baby monitor. Iris never woke up angry and crying, you were greeted every morning to the sounds of her babbling to herself and calling for you.

It may have been earlier than you’d like, but it certainly wasn’t a bad way to wake up.

You climbed out of bed, wiping your eyes before standing and walking down the hall towards the nursery. There was a chorus of “Mamamamama” as you headed towards your 1 year old daughter, who greeted you standing in her crib with the biggest smile. Her sleep sack was tucked beneath her feet - you’re not sure how she even manages to stand in it.

“Hi, pretty girl,” you greeted her, earning a giggle from the baby. She never failed to brighten up your mood, just by existing. You always heard a parent’s love for their child is intense, but you didn’t quite believe it until you had her and experienced it yourself.

She also happens to be the cutest baby to ever exist. With her head full of brown hair and blue eyes, she is certainly her father’s daughter. She’s tall for her age, too. You thought it was a little bit bullshit that you carried her for 9 months and did all the hard work just for her to come out her dad’s twin, but how could you really complain when she was so beautiful?

Iris lifted her arms for you to pick her up, and you couldn’t help but give her a snuggle before you moved to the changing table. You got her changed out of her pajamas and into a clean diaper, dressing her for the day in a light green dress with bunnies embroidered on the chest, a long sleeve white shirt underneath.

Iris had an extensive wardrobe. Shopping for clothes and putting together outfits was one of your favorite parts of being a girl mom, so you were certainly guilty of overspending on her, but the truth was that most of her closet came from Rafe. In fact, most of her stuff in general was from Rafe.

You never asked him to do any of that, but he was always showing up unannounced with shopping bags full of baby clothes, toys, anything he saw and thought she would like. Random packages would show up throughout the week, stuff he found online and sent directly to your house. He spoiled her badly, but it made them both happy, so you didn’t complain. You wanted her to have the world, anything she wanted, and you couldn’t quite provide that, but Rafe could.

“Good morning, my favorite tiny person!” Your twin brother, JJ, greeted his niece as he walked into the pink bedroom. She giggled the second she saw him, and he scooped her into his arms, twirling her around and making her laugh harder.

“JayJay!” she exclaimed, her tiny hands reaching for his messy blonde hair immediately.

“And I also exist…�� you mumbled as you threw the dirty diaper away in the pail, but you couldn’t help the smile on your lips.

JJ acknowledged you with an eye roll before turning right back to Iris. “Are you ready for a day out with Uncle JJ?”

Iris grinned wildly at her uncle, one of her favorite people in the world. She didn’t exactly know what that meant, but if it involved JJ, she was certainly happy to be there.

You made pancakes for breakfast, which both JJ and Iris absolutely devoured. Iris was covered in a mess of syrup when she was finished, but thanks to a combination of her bib and baby smock thing, she didn’t get a drop on her outfit. You cleaned up her face and hands, Iris fighting you the entire time.

“You have everything she needs?” You asked nervously as JJ packed up the diaper bag, Iris dancing in front of the TV to the Bluey theme song.

“I got diapers, wipes, a sippy cup, a change of clothes…I think I’m set, sis,” he said, giving a look that says calm down, I’ve got this.

It was hard for you to not be nervous letting your daughter go off without you. She was still rarely out of your sight, besides Rafe’s weekends. You were too nervous to send her to daycare, at least not yet, and Rafe agreed, so he helped pay the bills in the house you shared with JJ while you stayed home with her, which gave you the chance to work on college courses online.

“You packed snacks in case she gets hungry?” You asked, fiddling with the string of your pajama shorts. You hadn’t even had the chance to get changed into real clothes yet, since you’d been following Iris around all morning and making sure she was set to go.

“Yes,” JJ answered, sounding frustrated. “I’ve got this. We won’t even be gone long, she’s going to be fine.”

You probably would have come up with another question, but you were all interrupted by the front door opening as someone let themselves into the house like they owned the place. You and JJ looked towards the direction of the hallway as the sound of footsteps trailed down it, even though you definitely already knew who it was.

“Dada!” Iris practically squealed, and she ran as fast as her little legs would carry her towards the tall frame of her father, who was grinning like crazy and setting down a bag.

“There’s my girl,” he said, crouching down with his arms open wide to catch her. She tripped over her own feet at the last second, falling against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, standing to his full height again. Iris wrapped her tiny arms around his neck.

“She was just about to head out for a date with Uncle JJ,” you said, smiling at your daughter’s laughing face.

Rafe looked away from her to give you a questioning look. “Why is JJ taking her?” he asked like your brother wasn’t even in the room. JJ rolled his eyes, but didn’t bother to say anything.

“He wanted to spend time with her,” you answered. “And I have a big exam to take so I needed a couple hours alone.”

Rafe looked at you like he was confused, concerned. He was protective of his girl. “If you needed someone to watch her, you should have called me.”

“I know you’d watch her any time,” you said, not wanting to argue with him today. “But JJ really has been wanting to take her to the park, so I told him he could.”

Rafe’s eyes finally went to JJ, and he scoffed with a roll of his eyes, but didn’t push it. He sat Iris back down as JJ zipped up the diaper bag and slung it over his shoulder, picking up the car keys.

“Alright, little lady, ready to go?” JJ asked, a smile on his face as Iris danced around.

“Go! Go!” She chanted, jumping up and down. JJ picked her up, sitting her on his hip.

“Alright. We’re gone,” he said, leaning over to give you a kiss on the cheek. “See you guys later.”

“Have fun!” you called after them. “Be safe!”

JJ acknowledged you with a “Yep!” and then the front door was closing, leaving you alone with Rafe.

You looked at him. He didn’t look like he was in a rush to leave.

“What did you bring?” you asked, gesturing to the bag he had sat by his feet.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he shrugged. “Just some clothes.”

You laughed lightly to yourself - the little girl already had so many clothes, you weren’t sure if she’d be able to wear them all before she grew out of them.

You took the bag from him, sitting it down on the couch to go through later. You always liked to wash her clothes before letting her wear them, because who knows what kind of germs they’ve picked up in the store.

Rafe trailed behind you as you walked back into the kitchen, picking up the dishes from breakfast and washing them in the sink. He stood next to you without a word and helped by drying them after you washed.

When you were done, you turned around, leaning against the counter. Rafe picked up the stack of dishes and put them away in the cabinet they go in, before walking over to stand right in front of you. He reached up, pushing your hair behind your shoulder.

“You look pretty,” he murmured, his eyes taking in your frame.

You laughed softly. “I haven’t even changed out of my pajamas. I just rolled out of bed.”

A smile played at Rafe’s lips, his hand moving to rest on your cheek. “So? You’re always pretty.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the way your heart beat harder in your chest, your cheeks beginning to heat. “Didn’t you have a date last night, Rafe?”

That made him chuckle. “You knew about that, huh?”

You felt embarrassed, then. You weren’t supposed to know that. The only reason you did was because Sarah had told you. You weren’t supposed to care.

“It was nothing,” he continued. “We didn’t really click. She was…boring.”

You felt guilty for the satisfaction that brought you. Rafe hadn’t had a serious girlfriend since you had gotten pregnant, and you liked it that way. You and Rafe weren’t good for each other, you broke up long ago and it should stay that way. But you can’t help how jealous you feel any time the topic of Rafe and another girl comes up, and Rafe always seems to catch an attitude with you for days every time you mention seeing a guy.

“Well I’m sorry to hear that,” you lied, highly aware of how close he was standing to you now.

His thumb rubbed over your cheek before he moved it to your lips, tracing over them, pulling down slightly on your bottom lip.

“Missed you…” he muttered, his voice low. You felt the vibrations of it through your own body.

Despite your best judgment, your mind went hazy around him. You could feel his breath against your cheek. “I’ve missed you too,” you whispered back, like a fool.

He smirked at that, and then before you knew what was happening, he was leaning in, pressing his lips to yours. They molded together perfectly, as they always did. Rafe’s lips were soft against yours as he kissed you gently at first, almost as if he was testing the waters.

The kiss became more hungry before long, and then he was pressing his body closer to yours, one hand staying on your cheek while the other moved down to rest on your hip. He had his body pressed against yours, practically devouring you with his kiss, his tongue tracing along your bottom lip.

You let him in. Of course you did, you always do.

His tongue pressed into your mouth like it belongs to him. There’s never been anything shy about Rafe. You heard yourself moan into the kiss before you even realized it was you that made the noise, and you felt Rafe’s lips turn up into a grin as he kissed you.

His big hands trailed down your body until he bent down and they reached the backs of your thighs, then he was lifting you up, causing you to squeal and wrap your legs around his waist, giggling against his lips. He laughed too, and he began walking through the house and back towards your bedroom.

He dropped you on the bed and you looked up at him, already breathless. He wasted no time before he was crawling over you, his right hand leaning on the bed and his left sliding beneath the hem of your tank top. It slid up until he was cupping your bare breast, grabbing it and gently pinching at your nipple, drawing a moan from your lips.

He placed kisses all over your neck, gently biting every now and then, as his hand kept up its movements. “You always had the perfect fucking tits,” he groaned against your skin.

He sat up, his other hand joining in on your other breast. He yanked your tank top up to palm at your tits more, giving himself full view of them, thoroughly enjoying himself. Eventually he pulled the thin material over your head entirely, tossing it onto the floor carelessly.

Then he leaned forward again, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your shorts. His fingertips traced along your pussy over your panties, feeling how wet the material was already. That made him groan against your tits, sending a shock of vibrations through your sensitive nipple.

“Feels like you’ve been wanting this,” he said, satisfied with the effect he still has on you.

You didn’t even bother denying that. You wanted him desperately. His every touch was like electricity, and all you wanted was to feel him inside you again.

His hand moved up to slip beneath your panties, and you gasped when you felt his fingertips teasing over your slick folds. He moved up to press his lips to yours again, kissing you passionately as he pressed a finger against your entrance.

“Rafe…” you breathed out against his lips, and he groaned at the sound of his name on your tongue. He never got tired of it.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked, placing kisses around your mouth, over your cheek.

“Yes,” you promised him. You would have promised him anything in that moment, you think.

He pushed one long finger into you then, and you whined, back arching slightly. His eyes darted down to your chest at the movement, and you would have laughed at his obsession with your tits if you weren’t distracted by the feeling of his finger knuckle deep inside you.

He curled it up, pressing right up against that bundle of nerves deep inside you. You’re losing your mind from one finger - it really had been too long.

He added in another finger, stretching you further, and you felt the cold from his ring as he pushed both fingers in all the way. It sent shivers through your body. You were desperate for him to move, to just fuck you already, but he always liked to take his time with you.

After what felt like an eternity, he slowly began to pull his fingers out before pushing them back in. The pace was agonizingly slow, but he was also pushing against that perfect spot every time he thrusted his fingers all the way back inside.

“More, please,” you begged him, your eyes fluttering closed and body writhing beneath him with desperation. You began to push your hips down against his hand, begging him to move faster.

“Look at you,” he chuckled darkly, and you could hear the grin in his voice without having to open your eyes. “Fucking yourself on my fingers. You were always such a needy little slut.”

You felt yourself blushing at his dirty words, but they also only turned you on more, and you started moving your hips along the length of his fingers even faster. He groaned at the sight of you, and he began thrusting his fingers into you at a powerful pace, wanting to reward you for being good for him.

His palm pressed against your clit, rubbing against it perfectly as he kept hitting that perfect spot over and over.

You felt that familiar feeling building deep in your belly, and your thighs began trembling. Rafe noticed, picking up his movements.

“Feel good, baby? Gonna cum on my fingers?” he teased, watching your face with full interest.

“Yes,” you whined, feeling like your vision was going blurry. You felt it through every part of your body, and your pussy clenched tight around his fingers, which he couldn’t get enough of.

Your orgasm crashed through you without warning and you cried out, body arching and hips rocking against his hand even harder. Rafe worked you through it, praising you, watching you come undone on nothing but his fingers.

“Good little whore,” he praised, watching you hungrily. “You want my cock now?”

“Yes!” you answered quickly, practically yelling it. “Yes, please, Rafe.”

Satisfied with your answer, he removed his fingers from your pussy, making you whine at the empty feeling, despite the incredible orgasm you just came down from. Your eyes popped open and you made eye contact as he put his slick fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan.

He moved to his knees between your legs, pulling his own shirt over his head and tossing it away. You took in the sight of his muscular chest, toned abs, thick biceps. You felt like you were drooling over him. Your attention didn’t escape his notice, and he laughed.

His big hands slid over your smooth tanned legs, from your calves to your thighs. He squeezed them, and then he was moving even further up, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and panties and pulling them down together.

When you were completely bare before him, he drank in your naked body, eyes raking over you with obvious hunger. You could see the prominent bulge in his khaki colored shorts, and you wanted so badly to reach out and touch it.

His hands moved to his belt, and he made quick work of his pants, undoing them and pushing them down his legs. He was left in his boxers, and you did reach forward then, trailing your fingers lightly over his clothed cock.

He groaned at your touch, his hips involuntarily bucking forward. He didn’t say it, but you suspected it had been a while for him, too, and the thought of that pleased you. He gripped your wrist roughly, stopping your movements but looking like he really hadn’t wanted to.

“I don’t have long today,” he said, his breathing heavy now. “Made plans. We have to be quick.”

He pushed his boxers down his thighs, revealing his cock, already painfully hard and aching, pre cum smeared at his tip. You took in the sight of it like you were starving. He was so big, it had intimidated you the first time you slept together. Hell, it intimidated you now. You wanted to take him in your mouth, but that’s not what he had in mind today.

He crawled back over you, leaning on his arms on either side of your shoulders. He leaned down to kiss you deeply, then moved to placing kisses along your jawline and down your neck, over your chest. It was nice, and you sighed at the feeling.

“You’re still on the pill, right?” he questioned as you felt his thick length pressing up against your core. You shivered at the feeling.

“Yes,” you answered. As cute as Iris was, you both could agree that you didn’t need another accidental pregnancy when you weren’t even together.

“Good,” he replied, and then he was reaching down between your bodies, lining his tip up with your entrance.

When he finally pushed inside you, you gasped at the stretch, gripping onto his biceps for leverage, which he loved. He pushed into you slowly, knowing it had been a while since you’d been together and not wanting to hurt you. When he bottomed out, he stilled, but his body was shaking like all he wanted to do was fuck into you senselessly.

You let out a shaky exhale, and he kissed you again.

“You feel so perfect, like you’re made for me,” he breathed against your lips, and you moaned at his words.

“You can move,” you told him. “I can take it.”

He groaned at that, and then he slowly pulled out until only the tip remained inside of you, and you found yourself hating the empty feeling he left behind. Then he pushed back in slowly yet powerfully with a roll of his hips, and you felt full again.

He set a gentle pace at first, rocking into you deeply but softly. He kissed you as he moved, distracting you from any potential pain, wanting to keep your focus on him and how good he makes you feel. Because no one does it like him.

“More,” you pleaded when there was no trace of pain left, and all you wanted him to do was fuck you properly. “Harder, please, Rafe.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. He picked up the pace, rutting into your tight heat faster. He buried his face in your neck, groaning at the feeling of you wrapped so tightly around him.

Whimpers and moans fell from your own lips uncontrollably as he fucked you hard, his cock diving even deeper into you than you remembered and making you see stars. Your nails dug into his back, leaving deep red scratches that made him hiss in a mix of pain and pleasure. He loved it when you marked him up.

His sat up more on his knees and his hands grasped the bottoms of your thighs, pushing them up until they were pressed against your chest, making it harder to breathe but also letting him fuck you at a new angle that was impossibly deep and overwhelming.

You let out a strangled moan at the new feeling, and Rafe grunted harshly with every brutal thrust into your pussy.

“Love this fucking cunt,” he grunted out through gritted teeth, a slight sheen of sweat on his tanned skin. “Always think about it. Always come back to it. Can’t fucking get enough of it.”

He moved one hand back to your clit, rubbing circles over it as he fucked you deep. You gasped, moaning loudly as he built up another orgasm in your body, that familiar heat spreading all over you.

“Rafe…’m so close…” you whined out, which only made him move even harder.

“Cum for me again, baby. All over my cock this time. You can do it, baby, I’m right here.” he’s breathing heavily as he speaks, his own release building rapidly.

The tension snaps, and you cum hard, thighs trembling around his body and his name spilling from your lips like a prayer. He worked you through it again, his fingers continuing to work circles over your clit until it became too much.

When you came down from your second high and were left a shaking mess beneath him, he moved both hands back to grip your thighs against your chest as he fucked into you roughly, chasing his own high that was so, so close.

“Gonna fill you up in a second, baby,” he grunts out, watching the way you look up at him, looking completely cock drunk because of him. “You want that?”

“Yes,” you managed to tell him, your body weak now. “Want you to cum in me deep.”

“Yeah?” he questioned, your words clearly doing something to him. “I bet you would like that. I bet you’d love if I put another baby in you, wouldn’t you, whore?”

All you could do was moan in response, taking everything he gave you. His pace began to falter, his hips stuttering as he took everything he wanted from you. He pushed into you as deep as he could, stilling, leaning forward to bury his face in your neck again as he groaned loudly and filled you deeply. You grasped the back of his head as he came inside you, holding him close.

He didn’t move for a minute when he was done. He stayed on you, catching his breath, as you held him back.

Eventually he pulled out of you, collapsing next to you with a big sigh. He wiped his hand across his forehead, breathing heavily. It was silent but for the sounds of the two of you catching your breath.

Finally, you spoke. “You really missed me, huh?” you teased him, looking over at his naked form on your bed.

He laughed, lifting himself up. “‘Course I did. I always do.” He stood from the bed and began to pull his clothes back on, tossing you yours as he found them. When he was dressed, you finally stood from the bed, still naked, about to head into the bathroom for a shower.

“I gotta get going,” Rafe said, pulling his shoes back on. “But I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah. I have to do my exam.” You watched him as he stood, his full 6’2” form towering over you.

“I’ll text you,” he said, leaning forward and placing a kiss on your cheek. It felt intimate, and it made you blush. “Give Iris kisses for me when they get home. Let me know she gets back safe.”

“I will,” you promised him.

He gave you one last smile, and then he was gone. You heard the front door closing as you gathered up some clean clothes to change into after your shower.

When you got out of the shower, you smiled to yourself as you saw the missed text from Rafe. You opened it, and rolled your eyes as you read it, but you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face anyway.

Rafey

Miss you already.

[wileycap]

So, uh, just... thinking about Zuko hating tea.

You see, Zuko holds on to his hate of hot leaf juice for all his life. But he still drinks it every single day. He will brew himself tea, and then complain about it. When asked, he'll just grumble something about "Uncle says it's good for me."

He gripes to Iroh about it, too, whenever he visits. And he drinks every cup that his uncle puts in front of him.

Iroh always visits home for the Summer Solstice. (Zuko isn't too big on the spirits, either, but it's tradition and one of his best friends is a professional spirit bridge.) Every time, Zuko sets the table and brews tea for two. And Iroh always makes a big show of tearing up and "it's so lovely to have tea with my nephew." And Zuko, in return, always makes a big show of huffing and "it's just tea, Uncle."

Nothing lasts forever, though.

One Solstice, when Zuko is in his forties, he sets tea for two before realizing his mistake.

He sits there for a long time.

And then, because nothing lasts forever and the tea is getting cold, he invites Izumi.

Izumi hates tea, too.

[zalayni]

⁶ ₆ HER WAY 𓏲࣪ . 𓂃 🌷

𖦹 pairing: earth42! miles morales x reader

𖦹 summary: when you're not hanging out with the one and only miles morales then you're busy texting him instead.

𖦹 author's note: first post sorry if it's bad 😭😭

𖦹 next part

scenarios without images ↓ (I reached my limit on images LMAOO)

he only has snapchat to text his friends, uncle aaron, and you.

if you guys have snapstreak best believe he's gonna send you random snaps throughout the day.

got mad when you accidentally lost your guys 200+ snapstreak. don't worry though you two soon regained the streak and surpassed it.

he also has instagram so he can like your posts.

if you have something written in the notes section he'll always find someway to reply to it even if it's just a song.

you tag him and only him in your Instagram posts and pin his comment.

he has one post and it was about you.

@ milesmorales commented on your post

“my girl 🫶🏿”

he sends you videos on tiktok because he finds clicking on links too much work.

you forced him to do the lipstick trend where you leave kiss marks all over his face.

if he's not sending you a tiktok he'll tag you in the comment section

don't get me started on this man and winning against you in iMessage games 😭

ESPECIALLY THE BASKETBALL ONE. he swears he's better than all the NBA players.

he'll send you voicenotes if he's too lazy to type. sometimes you can't listen to them because you're out in public so you make him type it out (he'll complain but would still do it for you)

FaceTimes you whenever. don't expect a warning from him once you hear your phone ringing you better pick up.

he'll text you as soon as he's off his prowler business

if he ever gets grounded he'll ever just show up at your home or he'll text you on his laptop.

one time he lost his laptop and had to text you through his tv. it took me 5 minutes to type down one sentence

miles 💋

inaminit

yourcontactname

it took you 5 mins to type that

.⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅..⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅.

ıllıllı please do not steal, translate or repost my work on other apps.

art work in header made by koscribbls on instagram.

[bnhaobssesed]

Thinking about husband!Bakugo and wife!reader

Katsuki always pictured himself as a hero, yes. But when that became a reality, his life had no other purposes than to be the number one hero. Bear with me, he still wanted to be number one. But as he grew older he saw people around him settle and have a compromise between hero life and their private life. And by that I mean building a family. Kirishima was the first one to do so with Mina, soon followed by a lot of his friends. Even Deku at some point. And even if he sometimes loved being 'uncle Kats', he sometimes wishes he could hear that small laugh looking like his, or small eyes sparkling like yours.

For the first time ever, his wishes took another turn. He wanted to be father as much as he wanted to be the number one hero. If not even more.

And even if it took a while to get it off his chest, he wouldn't regret it for one second just to live this moment.

~

He was coming home after a long day of work, expecting to hear little screams and be met with the vivacity of his house. No, pure silence. It seemed strange to not hear small runnning footsteps towards the entryway and a little excited 'daddy !' coming from the living room.

He got his shoes off and started his investigation on where the people in his house was hidden. He first thought of one of their endless pranks which soon got denied by the sight next to the couch.

You were there, sleeping on the carpet with a little boy in your arms. His son, his first born of now three. And your hand rested on the edge of a rocking crib where his daughter of a little less than five months was sleeping peacefully too. She was sprawled out just like him when he sleeps and beneath her closed eyelids she shared the same red irises as him and her brother.

His son had his head nuzzled in your shoulder, being always so clingy to you in such a vulnerable state. And your cheek was smudged against the top of his spiky looking hair. You were drolling a little, your hair slightly messed up but right now you looked like the most beautiful creature that he got the whance to marry somehow. And that shimmering band on your finger was the proof of it.

He crouched down, carefully putting his gauntlets away. He studied you three for a very long time, never getting sick of it. He had build this... After years of only wanting to be a hero, he had build something greater. Something to go home to, to live for, to not be reckless for, to protect with all his strength. Because when he left in the morning, it was to those smiles and those faces he was fighting to come back to. He gently took out his phone, already filled to the brim with other frozen moments like this... of his family. He took a picture, his smile extending as he heard you mumbling his name in your sleep. He obviously put it as his new lockscreen, a new vision of his motiviation.

He'll bleed and fight for this and make all those streets sure for these three persons right in front of him. He kissed each of your faces carefully before silently going to cook dinner. Not without glancing at the baby photos hanging on the wall on his way out.

They were his copy, a fact you would often complain about. Being the one who "carried them for 9 months and got no credit on the appearence" as you liked to say. But he knew part of you adored to have little versions of him running around. And he was jealous of it, he wanted to have a mini you too running around.

But that would be for another day. Closer than you might know.

[fastandcarlos]

Streamer Baby : ̗̀➛ George Russell

summary: your baby is the ultimate daddy’s girl, but when george goes off to stream she doesn’t want to find herself away from him for too long

The squeals that came from downstairs immediately brought a smile to your face as you headed down to find George and your daugther running around the living room. It was typical for the two of them, charging around and causing chaos with wide smiles on their faces. Despite your constant pleas to calm things down as your daughter’s bedtime neared, George couldn’t ignore her whines to play with her and keep her entertained. They were so lost with one another that for a moment they didn’t even notice that you had walked into the room, that was until your daughter, Willow, went crashing into your leg, hitting the ground with a bit of a bump. 

“Sorry love,” George smiled, walking over and picking Willow up from the ground in order to check her over. 

“It’s going to take forever to get her down if she’s this giddy,” you reminded him, perching on the side of the sofa. 

“Mummy, daddy kept tickling me,” your daughter complained, poking her finger into George’s cheek several times, making sure that you knew George was responsible. 

“That’s because a certain someone kept climbing on me and trying to pull out my hair,” George defended, raising a questionable glance back at Willow. 

“You’re both impossible,” you chuckled, knowing you had your hands full with the pair. 

“But you love us,” George reminded you, standing himself up from the floor and placing Willow into your lap, making sure you had her before letting go. 

“Hm, sometimes I guess you’re alright,” you teased, allowing George to press a kiss against the top of your head, and then one to the top of Willow’s. “How long do you reckon you’ll be?” You quizzed, knowing where George was heading as soon as he went to walk towards the door to your living room. 

“I think Charles picked out a couple of games for us to play, we shouldn’t take long, with how rubbish we’ve all been at games recently I imagine we’ll all crash out pretty quickly.” George assured you, “but if you need me, come and get me and I’ll leave the stream.” As George went away, Willow stretched her hands out for George to come back. He poked her tongue out at her, watching as her smile grew and several giggles escaped, helped by the feeling of your hands attacking her sides. 

Before Willow could cry out for him again, George left the room knowing she was still giggling and not paying attention. You moved down onto the floor to sit with her, picking up a couple of the toys that George had been entertaining her with whilst you finished your work in your office. For a while it seemed to work, but soon enough you noticed her eyes darting around the room as if she was looking for something, or someone. 

“Daddy,” she muttered as soon as she met your eyes, confused as to where George had suddenly disappeared to. 

“He’s playing with some of your uncles,” you told her, offering her as wide of a smile as you could make. 

“Not with me?” 

“He’ll play with you when he’s finished,” you assured her, scooping her up and sitting her into your lap, “why don’t you pick out a toy to play with for when daddy’s finished doing his work sweetheart?” 

“I want to play daddy’s game,” Willow cried out, watching as your eyes went wide at her sudden request. 

“You can’t play the games that daddy us, some of them are for adults like mummy and daddy,” you tried your best to explain to her. “I’m sure that daddy would love to play with one of your toys down here though.” 

“Now?” She pushed, her impatience beginning to kick in. 

“In a bit,” you sighed, almost feeling guilty that you weren’t able to keep her as happy as George seemed to. You were well aware you had a proper daddy’s girl on your hands, she doted on absolutely everything that George did, and when things didn’t go right, George was always the first person that Willow ran to whenever she felt tears threatening to spill. 

Upstairs in the office that you had vacated only a few minutes earlier, George was lost in the game that he and a few of the other boys were playing. Every so often he slipped his headphones off to listen out and make sure that things were alright with you. As he went to check again, George was left confused by a banging sound that came from the other side of the door. 

George stopped for a moment before excusing himself, walking over to the door. As he opened it up, two bright brown eyes stared back up at him. “Sweetheart,” George giggled as Willow innocently smiled. 

“Daddy, I found you,” she proudly giggled, stretching her arms up to let George know exactly what she wanted him to do. 

“I wasn’t lost,” he chuckled, kneeling down and scooping his little girl up into his arms. She rested against George’s chest as soon as he had her, cuddling into him nice and tight. George could only sigh, walking back into the room and sitting on his gaming chair with Willow against him. He didn’t have the heart to put her down, and certainly didn’t have the heart to tell her to give him some space. As much as Willow was a daddy’s girl, George was equally as obsessed with her. Although George set boundaries and tried his best to be a firm parent, he found it incredibly hard saying no to her, especially when she looked at him with her sweet smile. 

George didn’t need to say anything, as soon as Willow appeared on the screen the comments on his stream began to increase. Everyone was thrilled to see her, George’s fans especially were in love with any interaction they saw between the two of them, particularly whenever George had Willow in the paddock with him with all of the cameras around. 

“Lots of your uncles are here,” George grinned, placing the mic of his headphones in front of her. 

“Hi,” she waved, shouting into the mic, unaware that she had just deafened all of the boys in the process. 

“Sorry about that,” George laughed as he placed his headphones back on again, “this one’s a little sleepy so she’s going to stay here for a bit.” 

“Such a whipped dad,” Lando couldn’t help but tease as he watched the duo on his screen, “I don’t know how your wife puts up with you.” 

“Excuse me,” George sighed, shooting a glare down his camera. “I’ll have you know being a dad is the best thing in the world, you just wait, when you’ve got a baby doting on you one day you’ll understand,” he added, unaware of the many fans swooning as they watched the screen and saw George fiercely defend his family. 

“You’re the best dad,” Alex interrupted, chuckling as Willow shuffled to get even closer to George. “You two have the sort of relationship I want to have with my daughter when I get older.” 

“Still annoyingly cute,” Carlos interjected, “the rest of us have some catching up to do.” 

“We used to always say we’d have a grid of our own children when we retired, and at the moment that’s a grid of one,” George reminded them all, disturbed by the door opening out of the corner of his eye. You let go of a sigh as you opened it up to see Willow snuggled into George’s side, watching as he smiled across at you, assuring you that he didn’t mind that she had interrupted his stream. 

“Hi love,” George whispered once he had muted his mic. 

“I thought I’d lost her,” you sighed, leaning against the doorframe and taking in the sight of the two of you before you. 

“I think someone might have been missing their daddy,” George explained, pressing a kiss against the top of Willow’s head. “Sorry, I should’ve told you that I had her here.” 

“Don’t worry, just as long as you don’t mind having her there,” you smiled back at George. 

“I don’t mind.” 

“Tell her that we don’t mind too,” Lando called out through the headphones having overheard your conversation. 

“The boys say she has to stay,” George smiled, knowing that you couldn’t say no to those guys either. “Once she’s asleep I’ll let her rest and tuck her in when we’re finished here if that’s alright for you.” 

As you noticed your little girl resting against George, you didn’t have it in you to disturb her. You’d fallen asleep enough times on George to know just how comfortable it was and so you couldn’t deprive your little girl of that comfort too. 

“I’ll leave you guys to it if you’re happy,” you softly spoke. 

“We’re all good, you go and get some rest.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[hairmetal666]

Wayne's used to worrying about Eddie. He should be; he's been doing it since the kid was twelve. First it was Eddie's silence, his permanent frown, the way the bones stood out too prominent on his small wrists. Then it was the kids at school, taunting him and calling him names, the fights and calls from the principal's office. Next came the late nights, the drinking, the dealing, failing his senior year twice. But all of those times, every single one, Wayne had known what to do. Maybe it wasn't perfect, maybe it took a little time, but he'd always figured out exactly what his boy needed.

And now--now Wayne doesn't know if he can help; knows it's not in his power to fix it. 

So, he sits for the second week in a row, watching his nephew--his whole heart--sitting in front of the window, looking out at the forest, nursing the same cup of coffee that he poured six hours ago, and wonders how in the world he can help.

They're cleaning up from dinner, Eddie quiet at his side, when he says, "Gonna need some help with the mugs tomorrow."

After moving to Oregon once Eddie graduated and he retired, he found an affinity for pottery. Never woulda thought it, but he loves it and tourists love his booth at the farmers market.

He can't think of a better way to get his nephew out of the house, but wonders if he doesn't know his boy as well as he thinks after a decade in Los Angeles, that Eddie'll refuse. He just nods, though, goes back to drying the plate in his hands.

And next morning, right at 6:45, Eddie is in the living room in black jeans that are so worn they're nearly grey in places, and the threadbare Metallica tee Wayne thrifted for him nearly a decade back. It's a win. Small, yes--Eddie doesn't even complain once about the country-western station Wayne plays in the truck--but still a step forward.

Wayne wastes no time parking and handing Eddie a box of carefully packed merchandise. He leads the way, trusts that Eddie is right on his heels until he hears Jim Hopper's voice say, "You better keep an eye on those mugs, son. Your uncle will tan your hide."

He turns to see Hopper balancing one end of Eddie's box, Eddie's cheeks flushed pink. "Sorry, I--uh, I've got it now." Hopper lets go and for the briefest instant Eddie's eyes dart to the side and the pink in his cheeks grows deeper.

Wayne tracks the path Eddie's eyes took and finds--he swallows back a chuckle--Steve Harrington just setting one of his Adirondack chairs into place, his t-shirt lifted to show of a stretch of stomach.

Well. Eddie did always like the pretty ones.

They setup the booth in companionable silence, and Hopper pops back over for a proper introduction. Before he departs again, he says to Eddie, "I got some kids who really love that dnd game and your show. They're going to be crazy to meet you. That okay?"

And Eddie, he's a good boy, he smiles and nods but as soon as Hopper is out of earshot, Wayne's saying, "Hop's kids and their friends are big fans and I know you're heartsore about the cancellation, but you better be polite."

Eddie glares. "What do you think, old man, that I'll be mean to children?"

"Well, with how you've been moping around the cabin these last few weeks, hard to know."

He scoffs. "Yeah, well. Netflix putting your hit show on indefinite hiatus without warning or explanation will do that to a guy."

Wayne knows there's nothing he can say to soften this hurt, so he gives Eddie's shoulder a tight squeeze. "I'm proud of you no matter what, son."

His nephew nods, eyes down, but Wayne doesn't miss the small, pleased, lift at the corner of his lips.

The morning passes smoothly and Wayne pretends he doesn't notice every time he finds Eddie's gaze straying to Steve's booth.

The kids come by around noon, Dustin Henderson breaking away from the pack to shriek, "You're Eddie Munson!"

Eddie smiles, stands. "That I am, young adventurer." He bows low, exaggerated and the kids giggle. "Pray tell, what are your names?"

The chatter is fast and easy, Eddie the happiest he's been in weeks, and Wayne relaxes back in his chair, lets out a long, slow breath of relief at the breaking storm. He stretches back in his chair, eyes catching on Steve Harrington across the way. Steve who is watching Eddie and the kids with an expression Wayne can only think of as fond.

Wayne isn't one to play matchmaker, but--he thinks, just maybe, just this once he could nudge.

It happens late in the afternoon, when business has well-slowed, Eddie asking, "Um--that guy over there, who is--what's his deal?"

Wayne thinks he manages to keep all traces of amusement from his face and voice as he answers, "Who? Ohh, Steve Harrington. He's the guidance counselor down at the middle school. Does a bit of carpentry in his free time. Best friends with the woman who owns that little bookstore."

He watches as Eddie processes, as his eyes widen, probably in remembrance of the pride flags and Protect Trans Kids shirts, how the woman in question wore a lesbian flag pin on her apron. "Guidance counselor?" He says eventually. "Kind of a drag."

"You would think, but the kids love him. The ones you met earlier today? He babysat them for years; imprinted on him, Jim and I say."

"Hmm," is the only response he gets, Eddie's attention back on the man in question.

---

The day after the market, Wayne walks into the living room to find Eddie's laptop tucked into the cushions of the window seat. He hasn't seen the thing since Eddie came home, never used to see him without it, and this--well.

He says, "need to run into town for a few things. You up for a trip? You might could stop at that bookstore."

Eddie nods, takes a sip of his coffee--he's actually drinking it-- says, "Yeah. Yeah, I think that'd be cool."

The store isn't busy when they arrive, and Wayne drifts towards the magazines to leave Eddie to his own devices.

Wayne loses himself to quiet browsing, wanting to give Eddie space, to maybe chat with Robin Buckley, strike up the beginnings of a friendship. Enough time passes, though, that Wayne is wondering where his boisterous, noticeable nephew could've disappeared to so silently.

He winds around a shelf and sees Eddie and Steve Harrington in deep conversation. He can't hear it, not really, but they're standing close, with pink in their cheeks. As he watches, Steve says something that makes Eddie laugh and pull a few strands of hair over his mouth.

They're almost inseparable after that. Eddie, Steve, Robin, and all those kids. They play dnd, have movie nights, spend hours at the diner. And Eddie, he's writing, sketching, gets down Wayne's acoustic guitar and plays around for a while.

When he asks how things are with "that Harrington boy," Eddie flushes red and says, "none of your business, old man" before giving Wayne a quick, affectionate squeeze. 

---

Two and a half months after Eddie came to stay, Wayne's walking back from the river, the sky the light navy of new dusk. His fishing rod is draped over one shoulder, tackle box held easily in his fist, the walk home pleasant, a perfect end to a good day.

The light from the front porch seeps through the trees, and he's thinking about a cold beer, a warm pizza, if Eddie's found his way home yet, when figures standing on the porch stop him in his tracks.

It takes a second, longer, for his eyes to adjust from the dark of the woods, and the glow of the bulb, but then he sees--

Eddie and Steve locked in a fierce embrace, desperate and very much private.

He turns right back towards the river, doesn't mind giving the boys some time.

He waits a good half hour, just enjoying the forest, before heading back. Steve's car is gone, the porch vacant, but the cabin is lit up, bright and warm and inviting.

Wayne steps inside, and his nephew is there, laptop open, but he isn't working, just smiling to himself, chin resting on his fist.

"Okay?" Wayne asks.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Eddie's smile doesn't fall from his face.

He doesn't want to interfere, ask too much, not when he's sure things are still young. Instead, he asks, "What'd you say to ordering a pizza?"

And Eddie, heedless of Wayne's question, says,"you know. I've been thinking about maybe staying here for a little longer."

And Wayne, his smile grows, and he claps a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "You're welcome here for as long as you want. Already consider it your home anyway."

[inkedinshadows]

Little Rainbow

Pairing: Azriel × reader

Summary: When you can’t comfort your baby daughter, you bring her to her dad, who always manages to calm her down.

Warnings: just lots of fluff

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: I thought I'd try my hand at writing second person pov instead of third. It just felt natural to write this one in 2nd pov. Maybe I'll stick with it in the future idk. This was born out of my baby fever btw, enjoy!

Azriel sensed you right before his shadows whispered of your arrival. He would recognize those steps and those soft wails anywhere.

A smile was already on his lips when the door opened with a small creak and you, his beautiful and loving mate, walked in holding your few-months-old daughter in your arms.

Leaning against the back of his chair, he watched as his shadows shot forward to greet the two of you, writhing around you and caressing your cheeks. You chuckled, but your daughter's soft cries stopped only for a moment before starting again, her little face even redder.

Azriel had spent centuries thinking he would never find love, that he wasn't good enough to deserve it. He was glad for his brothers’ happiness, and yet silently jealous of what they had. Brother, uncle, friend—he was grateful for it all, he truly was, but he longed for something more.

Then he met you.

Even before the mating bond snapped, he already knew you were the one. He had never been so smitten with someone in all his long years. He fell for you as quickly as a stone sinks in water, and finding out you were mates was just the cherry on top. He was convinced he could never love anything or anyone as much as he loved you.

But then you got pregnant. And when you gave birth, one look at the tiny bundle in Madja's arms was enough to prove him wrong. Seeing his mate holding his baby shortly after brought tears to his eyes, and he couldn't keep them from falling when you passed him Iris—named for the rainbow shining in the sky as she came into the world.

It was one of the happiest moments of his life, if not the happiest: looking down at the fragile, beautiful new life he had helped create.

But now, Iris was crying.

“One of those days?” he asked, his arms already outstretched toward his daughter.

“Yeah… sorry to interrupt you,” you answered with a sigh. You passed the baby to him and perched on the armrest of his chair. “But I tried feeding her, playing with her. I sang her all the lullabies I know. Nothing worked. She wants you.”

Azriel smiled down at Iris, holding her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. And to him, to you, she was. You were never interrupting when it was about her.

“You missed me, little rainbow?” he asked softly, a scarred finger trailing down her red, puffy cheeks. His shadows followed suit to swirl around her little face as if they could wipe away her tears.

He'd been scared at first—scared he would somehow taint something so perfect with his scarred hands, hands that had done things he had never been proud of. Though you had reassured him many times, his every concern melted away completely only when Iris had grabbed his pointer finger and innocently put it in her mouth.

It was exactly what she was doing now. Under Azriel's adoring gaze, his daughter wrapped her tiny hands around the finger he had just used to caress her and began contentedly sucking on it, her wails stopping for the moment.

“I don't understand how you do that,” you complained, though your tone was soft, your eyes full of pure love and adoration as you watched your mate and your baby. “She refused her binky when I gave it to her. Every. Single. Time.”

Azriel finally looked up from his child and met your gaze. Amusement sparked in his eyes at your grumble.

“Don't take it personally, love,” he said, curling one of his wings around you and gently nudging you with it. “She said ‘mama’ the other day.”

Catching on to his little wing bump, you slid from the armrest onto his lap, even as you rolled your eyes at him. “She didn't say 'mama’. She was just babbling. She's too young to say words, Az.”

Azriel hummed thoughtfully, but his gaze slid back to Iris. She was still clutching his finger, and even though it had been almost seven months since she was born, watching her was as mesmerizing as the first time.

She had his eyes—hazel with a speck of green—but her hair was the same shade as yours. The two of you had initially spent hours simply gazing at her, whether she was awake or asleep, endlessly debating who she resembled the most. You claimed she had inherited Azriel's nose, he said she had your mouth. The truth was, it was too soon to know for sure, but neither of you cared. She was your rainbow, and she would always be perfect in Azriel's eyes.

The one thing he wasn't sure how to feel about was the lack of wings. After Feyre's tragic experience while giving birth, he had been relieved when Madja announced that your baby wouldn't have them. He never wanted to see you in such pain or risk losing you during childbirth. And yet, he was still Illyrian. Nothing could change that. A part of him longed for the chance to teach his baby daughter to fly, to hear the song of the wind and feel that unparalleled sense of freedom that only came from soaring high in the sky.

“Maybe it's the shadows.”

Your voice dragged him back to reality, and he turned to you with a furrowed brow.

“Why she's always calmer around you,” you clarified, gesturing to the shadows swirling around Iris. You caressed her head, and her eyes tracked back to you as she giggled around Azriel's finger. “They soothe her.”

Azriel smiled, his heart soaring at the sound of his daughter's soft laughter. His wing curled more tightly around you, drawing you closer so he could place a gentle kiss on your temple. “She's just like her mom, isn't she?”

You could only nod, returning his loving smile with one of your own. It was true—his shadows had always been a safe space to you. The first time he had seen you upset, they rushed to you, swirling around you and brushing your cheeks and your neck until you chuckled. From that moment, whether it was anger, sadness, or fatigue, they would leave Azriel's side to cheer you up before he could even take a step in your direction.

Your head came to rest on Azriel’s shoulder and you both watched your daughter's eyes grow heavy, her lids starting to drop as she stubbornly tried to keep them open, her hold on her dad's finger relenting.

“You fall asleep so easily in daddy's arms, don't you, little rainbow?” you whispered as you tenderly booped her cute little nose. “Just like mommy.”

Azriel chuckled, placing his now-free hand on the small of your back to gently nudge you to stand up. “Let's go to bed, love.”

You rose from his lap, and he immediately felt the absence of your warmth against him, but you only stood in front of him with that cute frown of yours—the one that created a small crease between your brows that he always wanted to smooth with his thumb.

Azriel knew exactly what you were thinking.

During the last month of your pregnancy, he had asked Rhys to keep missions away from Velaris to a bare minimum. And after Iris was born, he had stopped taking on any missions that required him to be away for more than two days, because he simply couldn't bear the thought of being separated from you and his baby girl. After centuries, he had finally learned the meaning of the word “delegate”. But sending his spies on jobs he'd usually do himself had led to a high pile of documents and reports on his desk—a pile he mostly tackled after you and Iris had gone to bed.

“I'm done working for tonight,” he reassured you, standing up and rocking Iris in his arms. “It can wait.”

It couldn't, not really. Some of those papers had been sitting on his desk for days, and the Azriel he was until seven months ago would have recoiled at the mere thought of unfinished work. But that was before an eternal rainbow added even more colors to his life than you already had.

You only smiled at him and brushed a kiss against his cheek. “Let's go to bed, then,” you repeated before turning to walk out.

Azriel followed you, his baby’s eyes fluttering open at the movement and darting around as he walked down the pastel-blue hallway. She was always so curious, even when tired.

Not wanting to risk Iris deciding she’d rather stay awake and explore than sleep, Azriel began to hum her favorite lullaby. You glanced over your shoulder at the sound of his deep voice resonating off the walls, a soft smile on your lips as you watched the shadows gently sway to the melody.

He met your gaze when you stopped in front of Iris’s room, where you had painted the walls a light shade of pink while Azriel assembled the cream-colored furniture. He shook his head and gestured for you to keep walking, never interrupting his soft singing as Iris’s eyes fluttered closed once more. You raised an eyebrow but continued toward your bedroom at the end of the hallway.

You had recently started getting Iris used to sleeping in her own room instead of yours, with both doors left open for the rare times she still woke up at night. But tonight, Azriel wanted to hold both his girls in his arms.

Iris was fast asleep by the time Azriel gently placed her in the center of your large bed, careful not to wake her up. She rolled onto her tummy and let out a content sigh that had you both staring in awe.

You turned to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. “You didn't want her to sleep alone?” you murmured, your tone amused.

“I couldn't,” he answered with a smile, his fingers tangling in your silky hair. “She missed me, you said it yourself.”

You chuckled, leaning up to peck him on the lips.

Azriel didn't let you pull away.

It felt like a lifetime had passed since he last had some alone time with you. If it wasn't Iris needing attention and care, it was his duties as spymaster keeping him so busy that you had resorted to dragging your favorite armchair in his study, where you would curl up with a book during your daughter's nap time. Sitting in comfortable silence as you each focused on your own tasks was better than being apart.

He felt you relax, melting against his body as he deepened the kiss, and only then did he pull back to rest his forehead against yours.

“And I missed you,” he whispered. Your cheeks were warm under his touch and he took a moment to just breathe in your familiar, soothing scent.

“Then you should have let Iris sleep in her crib, my love,” you said with a glance at your daughter. A mischievous gleam entered your eyes when they settled on him again. “Because I really miss you too.”

Azriel's soft laugh echoed in the room, and he kissed the top of your head. “Tomorrow,” he promised. He could make those reports wait a bit longer.

You smirked, stealing one last kiss before stepping back to peel off your clothes. He took a moment to admire you—your smooth skin, the dip of your hips, the soft curve of your stomach that remained from childbirth—but he quickly undressed as well, and soon you were both in bed, with Iris nestled between you.

Azriel placed a broad hand on her back to draw her a bit closer, and his wing draped over you as you scooted over, enveloping the three of you in a warm, dark cocoon, the silence interrupted only by your daughter’s soft snoring.

He felt you move in the dark and guessed you had just kissed Iris when you murmured, “Goodnight, my rainbow. Even though you didn't let me sing you lullabies.”

Azriel didn't need to see your face to know you had a loving look in your eyes and a playful smile on your lips.

“Of course she prefers my lullabies,” he teased, brushing his thumb over Iris's back. “She's her daddy's girl.”

For a moment, he was tempted to fold back his wing and let the moonlight caress your face, just to catch your cute pout as you said, “I used to be your girl.”

“You still are, love. You're both my girls,” he assured you, letting his wing lower over you like a second blanket. “You're my family. There's nothing I love more than you and Iris.”

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice now stripped of all playfulness. Only pure, undiluted sincerity remained, warming his heart. “Both of you.”

Silence fell again, and it wasn't long before your breathing evened out as you drifted into sleep. But Azriel stayed awake a while longer, listening to the steady rhythm of his mate's soft sighs and his daughter's occasional snorts.

His own little family—everything he had ever wanted, more than he had ever dared to hope for.

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