#holiday imagine 2022 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jiminrings · 1 year

Text

pink sapphire

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 11k

glimpse: having jungkook for a husband is great as far as arranged marriages could go; he's easy to love. your relationship's perhaps become so easy that jungkook doesn't think sometimes — and that's what makes it the easiest for you to hate him.

alternatively, you and jungkook married each other for business, but the both of you stay for love.

[ angst, arranged marriage au, fluff n really wholesome scenes (it cancels out the angst i swear), Jungkook Tries Hard (affectionate), miscommunication, jealousy, self-deprecation, sexual innuendos (no actual smut here!!), did i already say that jungkook tries rlly hard and is remorseful the whole time ]

notes: my year-ender fic for 2022 :) thank u for being here — i'm grateful for all ur love n support!! i'll see u in the next one <3

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

Jungkook’s a vocal person.

Your husband does not leave a single thought unspoken, sometimes his thinkpieces too impulsive that when he says them in public, you try to play it off by either distancing yourself with him or from him.

“I think the world would be just fine even if all the bees disappear,” Jungkook once said to you with conviction, midway into chewing his cheeseburger. “There’s articles about it proving otherwise but they’re too long for my attention span, but yeah, I don’t think it would be that bad, y’know?” he giggles, looking up at the ceiling in serious thought. “If anything, the Bee Movie taught us that-…”

Jungkook yelps automatically when you pinch his thigh, your hand sternly gripping his knee like both your reputations depended on it (they really did). “Jungkook, we’re literally in a climate change gala right now.”

“I don’t think coffee’s ever that serious. Seriously, world barista championships? New techniques in supposedly making the best cup of coffee when you’re all just gonna shit it ten minutes later? It’s not that deep,” Jungkook once whispered to you in urgency, his annoyance through the roof. He’s glued to your side, intent on whispering all about his irritation.

“Jungkook, I’m begging you,” you wince, screwing your eyes shut and slowly moving the two of you to the far end of the room. “We were literally right next to your uncle whose new wife is the organizer for that very championship you’re shitting on.”

“We need to talk about the tote bag epidemic,” Jungkook once whisper-yelled to you in a rush, holding you by the arm because he just can’t contain his inner thoughts any longer. You’re thankful, sure, that you’re your husband’s go-to person for all of his random thoughts; it’s just that he picks the worst settings to tell them to you.“They look kinda tacky, everybody deludes themselves that they’re functional even if they have zero pockets, and-…”

“And you just offended atleast three different age groups and all of them are in this café. We need to leave.”

Jungkook’s endearing this way, raw and a tad bit annoying. He’s expressive as much as he’s vocal, his hand slotted on your waist like second nature to him. Being married to him isn’t bad. Sure, the circumstances of your union in the first place were for business anyway, but the both of you understood and agreed at the end of the day. By all means, he’s ideal — ideal until he opens his mouth when he’s sleeping.

If there’s anything that your two years of marriage (and counting) to Jungkook makes you realize, it’s that you should value your peace and sanity more than anything.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

Jungkook groggily asks you with one eye open, conveniently seeing you in the act of hovering around him with an ominous object in your hand. Maybe it’s the sleep in his eyes or the fog in his brain, but when you look at him like this– bothered and passionately frustrated, it makes him love you even more.

“No,” you mutter, the snoring mouth strip in your hands just begging to be put on already. “I’m trying to make you quiet.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

Perhaps it’s the sleep in your eyes or the fog in your brain, but you swear you just saw your husband crack a smirk despite keeping you up multiple nights a week, especially for the past month. He’s not endearing tonight, not at all.

“Isn’t marriage all about accepting each other’s flaws?” Jungkook frowns, about to turn on his side when you put your knee to block him.

“We’re arranged,” you deadpan. “I can’t accept you snoring with bass and reverb every night, Jungkook. I can barely sleep.”

“But didn’t you tell me you like it when I make noises?” Jungkook glares playfully. Bringing up your sex life with him out of the blue almost always does the trick, but it probably won’t work tonight now that you’re only awake and breathing heavily from sheer annoyance. “That you adore me whenever I tell you how much I love it?”

“Jungkook,” you hiss, tempted to flick him on the forehead in his sleep repeatedly so he’ll wake up with a mark. “Will you let me put the snoring strip on you or do we divorce?”

“Divorce,” he sighs out, a pinch instantly placed on his thigh that makes him jolt and squeak anyway. Jungkook whines, correcting himself when your hand hovers his chest this time. “Divorcing is bad!”

“Mhmm. Good night, Kook.”

You vibrate just by the prospect of sleeping peacefully tonight without the walls in the house being shaken up by your husband’s snores, tucking yourself in with an exhale that could last for minutes.

“Mmh-hmm!”

Jungkook could only pathetically whine through the mouth strip, resigning to his fate as he just spoons you from behind and huffs.

“What’s that? You want to wear snoring strips every night?” you chuckle, going to sleep with a smile. “What a nice husband.”

( ♡ )

Every now and then, you and Jungkook have to take a refresher course on each other’s businesses. The both of you know a lot already, constant conversations about which meetings happened where and reminders for events that the other will clear up their schedule for.

There’s already the concern and the general knowledge — it’s just all in the technicalities (even the simplest ones) that the two of you are lacking on.

“Is this a mock neck or a crewneck?” Jungkook holds up a shirt that’s yet to be released, eyebrows raised as if waiting for you to mess up. Come to think of it, you have to know now because his family’s holding company had acquired yet another brand and there’ll be a televised event for it — and some reporters ask the stupidest questions to date. You can’t be the weakest link.

“I wanna say neither,” you clear your throat, biting your bottom lip in confusion. It’s a shirt with a collar and that’s the only thing that matters. You know there’s a name for it and there’s a possibility that the choices Jungkook gave you were all bluffs.

Your answer definitely seems to pique both Jungkook’s interest and amusement, resisting the urge to laugh.

“Elaborate.”

“It’s neither of the two. It’s uhm, in the middle?” you tilt your head, only praying that you could bullshit your explanation to your husband, the very person that created the garment. “It’s an all-new neckline created by Jeon Jungkook because that’s what his label is all about.”

Flattering, but really wrong.

“Cool,” he snickers, nodding to himself before he tosses it for you to catch. “It’s a crewneck though.”

“What? Then why did you make me elaborate?” you complain, scoffing to yourself because you know you should’ve went with that answer. Crewnecks should be easy enough to answer but for some reason (read: you stayed up last night watching new-money elitist reality shows instead of studying), you couldn’t answer.

“To see how good you can run away with your answer, duh.”

“And did I run away with it?”

“You ran away with it for like, four meters,” Jungkook commends you, the distance not all that bad in hindsight, atleast until he opens his mouth again. “There’s a hundred meters in total.”

Trivial things like quiz night on each other’s professions remind you that Jungkook’s nice to be with. Banter flows easily and he’s just so charming that so far, you haven’t deeply regretted a single day out of the two years you’ve been married.

You may not be able to name all the different fabrics, silhouettes, and techniques behind Jungkook’s very own streetwear brand, but you know that he likes being held when he’s asleep; that when he taps your thigh groggily after waking up in the middle of the night, it’s him very kindly asking you to rub circles on his back until he falls asleep.

“Okay, my turn!”

Your glass table almost shakes in excitement when you retrieve your sketches, making your husband all the more nervous because you look genuinely excited and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. He doesn’t have the room for error — your family’s jewelry brand turns 100 years old since the opening of its first shop and the event will be widely attended by everyone from all industries. Who’s to say that your eccentric grandfather won’t suddenly host a quizbee all about their craft?

You flash the paper quickly and your husband sighs in relief, grinning in confidence.

“Emerald cut, easy!”

The confidence is quickly washed out from Jungkook because you snort, putting the paper down.

“It’s an octagon cut.”

“No it’s not,” he immediately retorts in disbelief, squinting at the sketch you’ve set down already.

“I sketched these,” you narrow your eyes. You forgot just how quick Jungkook can keep himself in denial. “Emerald cuts have more depth to them.

He succumbs just as quickly as he turned stubborn though, rolling his eyes with the internal reminder to touch up on his jewelry knowledge because your event comes before his.

“Fine, sue me for thinking your drawings have depth and dynamic to them.”

“You’re buttering me up.”

“Is it working?” Jungkook blinks owlishly, proud of himself when he sees the corner of your lips twitching. He holds his arm out to sling across your waist out of instinct, pleased in pink when you lean into him.

“Barely.”

Jungkook frowns, nosing into your hair with a huff. “Look who’s talking. You made up an all-new neckline by yourself.”

“Shh,” you hum. “Let me get away with it.”

These moments of domesticity are what remind you that Jungkook’s never been less than ideal for you. That despite being in the same social circle as kids and only starting off as friends, you weren’t hesitant when both your grandparents suggested the idea of getting the two of you married.

In trivial and domestic moments like these, you think that you would’ve wanted to marry Jungkook even if you weren’t arranged.

“I let you get away with a lot of things,” he playfully huffs, resting his chin on your shoulder intentionally heavy to get you to cave deeper into his embrace.

“Because I barely wrong you!” you reason, rolling your eyes because you know for a fact that although you’re not a perfect wife, you’re beyond ideal.

“I know,” Jungkook rolls his eyes this time, the truth undeniable. You’re right; you’re so perfect for him that sometimes, he thinks he doesn’t deserve you. “How about me? Will you let me get away with a lot of things?”

“I already have,” you sing-song, narrowing your eyes playfully as if in deep warning. “But I won’t always do.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook first realized that you loved him when he missed a single step on the staircase and tumbled a whole flight.

It was 3 AM then, the reason behind his sudden trip downstairs being the fever you developed overnight when you had just gotten home from a ski trip. He had put a wet towel in the freezer in the afternoon and he was supposed to put it on you before you went to sleep. Jungkook must’ve beat himself up for forgetting because he wakes up with a cold sweat, determined to put that frozen towel on you like his life depended on it.

Jungkook thought he was doing well by the way he could navigate clearly even with the sleep in his system, eyes still half-lidded and brain still half-working that he decides to rip out the largest yawn to man mid-step on the staircase — before he knows it, he’s woken up immediately to the bottom of it.

“Jungkook!” you yelled to him then in a panic, eyes wide and frantic to see him at the bottom of the stairs with a sheepish smile. Jungkook knew then that seeing you with a head-splitting migraine visible on your pale lips and fatigued eyes, scooping him up on your arms with nothing but scolding and fussing on rotation — he knew that you loved him more than you let on.

You know Jungkook loves you. So when the bed dips and your arms grow cold despite swearing up and down that the both of you have a free day today, you doubt for a second.

“What are you doing up so early?” you mutter, stifling a yawn to see Jungkook up without a complaint.

“Breakfast with my parents. My crazy aunt suddenly came over and they need backup,” Jungkook answers with a pained laugh, cussing himself for being such a filial son. “Don’t worry, I know you hate her plus you were up all night yesterday so I just told them you can’t come because you’re under the weather.”

You’re put at ease to hear him, sighing a breath of relief — good, Jungkook still loves you and doesn’t plan to leave you. It’s just an inkling you’ve had the last few weeks, the daunting realization that in a couple months’ time, it’ll be three years of marriage with him.

It’s the impulsive, less rational part of your brain that thinks Jungkook’s growing bored of you, confused of how he’s been perfectly content being your husband for almost three whole years.

You go with Jungkook all the way through downstairs, your playful teasing towards him about never yawning again on the steps giving him more amusement (and embarrassment) than necessary.

“Kook?” you question with a furrow in your brow, pointing at the dish that’s occupied still. “You forgot the car keys.”

“Oh. I’m not taking the car,” he smiles, shrugging to emphasize the jacket that he intentionally wore. You missed the detail somehow, the surprise in your voice more evident.

“You’re taking your motorbike?”

“Mhmm!” Jungkook hums pleasantly, the background music in his brain going from calm elevator music to rising bass rift. He’s just about to bid you goodbye with a kiss after he wears his gloves but he’s stopped even before he could come near. You’ve already read his mind.

Your husband knows it when you put your arms across your chest, nodding towards the cabinet with a tone that leaves no room for counterarguments.

“Go wear your full gear.”

“But the breakfast place isn’t even that far,” Jungkook whines, head tilting back. His gear was literally hot, protecting him from sunlight yet physically making him boil inside.

“I want you in one piece.”

“You want me?” Jungkook cheekily grins, eyebrows wagging incessantly with his arms outstretched. That’s it! If he could just act cuter and be a little more-

“Go wear your gear.”

“I look goofy,” he mutters, eyes downcast. The longer he goes without blinking, the faster he knows that he’s going to stick to your words.

“You look safe,” you smile in success when you put his helmet on, securing it extra tightly that draws a whine from him.

Jungkook frowns but he knows that you’re right as always, a relieved sigh coursing throughout his whole body because who knew where he’d end up without you.

“Ride safe, Jungkook. I mean it. Don’t pull any tricks,” you glare pointedly at him, recounting all of the near misses he had from wanting to be adventurous, be it a trip downstairs to the refrigerator or in the middle of a main thoroughfare.

“I promise not to pull a wheelie on the highway, yes,” Jungkook mockingly salutes you, drawing out a faux disappointed sigh from you.

“You’re forgetting something.”

Was he really? Jungkook furrows his brows in confusion, smacking his lips when he seems to get the gist of it. He walks towards you, puckering his lips to the max because he doesn’t want to headbutt you with a solid helmet for just a smooch, landing a gentle kiss on your cheek.

You appreciate it, but Jungkook’s not quite right.

“No, not that.”

“What?” he seems taken aback, suddenly realizing. “Oh!” he giggles, raising up his right hand in a pledge. “I promise to text you when I get there.”

“Good.”

You have to put more strength to drag Jungkook by the helmet, angling your head to the side to kiss so he doesn’t knock you in the forehead with the extremely safe (and extremely bulky) helmet you got him.

Jungkook smiles in contentment, clearing his throat as he revs his engine. It’s all good then. He had become worried in silence because your three years of marriage were approaching and got scared because what if you grew bored of him already?

Jungkook worries that he’ll mess things up with you one day, but with the way he can see you waving at him frantically on his side mirror when he just left, it’s okay.

He knows you still love him.

( ♡ )

Hoseok’s your most talented and trusted metalsmith.

His work ethic’s unparalleled, your vision only coming into fruition through his support and skill. He’s indispensable to you, your place in the direction of your family’s business cemented by Hoseok’s aid.

Hoseok as both an artist and your employee is different from Hoseok as your friend. Both are cunning but the latter is more ruthless, the lines being blurred every now and then. He loves his job, don’t get him twisted at all — in fact, he trusts you as a boss and the company beyond comprehension that he doesn’t bear any tact for anyone who threatens either.

Not even for Jungkook.

“A collab, huh?” Hoseok squints, looking through the portfolio you’ve handed him. There’s already projected numbers that your analysts have predicted for you but he pays the papers no mind. He clicks his tongue, looking up at you with an unreadable expression. “A streetwear brand wants a limited-edition collection with us?”

Jungkook clears his throat, timidly raising his hand. He’s always known that Hoseok’s standoffish to literally everyone except you, but what he can’t take is being talked about like he isn’t in the same room.

“Uhm, I’m Y/N’s husband.”

“Well you’re the owner of that streetwear brand, aren’t you?” Hoseok raises a brow at him, tilting his head. He looks drastically bored, his tongue poking his cheek.

Jungkook blinks, not exactly knowing where this was going but he doesn’t like it one bit. “Yes, but I’m also her husband.”

“Okay?” Hoseok tilts his head, eyes already exhausted from the conversation. You know that look on him, the one that tells you he’s bored to death and is itching to shut up the nearest person to him. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Jungkook rarely gets flustered by anyone else besides you and this time, it’s the bad kind. The embarrassment he gets from just conversing with Hoseok makes him feel like he’s an inconvenience, unease settling into his stomach. Jungkook wishes he couldn’t be so perceptive to know that despite Hoseok’s eyes normally being unreadable, his gaze now on his sketches can be read as underwhelmed.

“Well I-I mean, I’m hearing a lot of us and it sounds like you and Y/N, not me and Y/N,” he licks his lips, recognizing the insecurity that sticks to his tone like honey. Not only does he feel insulted as an artist, he also feels insufficient as a husband.

“That is what I’m saying though,” Hoseok trails off, hand vaguely gesturing for Jungkook to fill in the rest of the blanks. When he doesn’t, Hoseok does it for him. “It’s me and Y/N seeing this brand through. Not you and her.”

Jungkook blinks once, twice.

Hoseok isn’t wrong. No matter how much pain it brings Jungkook to admit it, Hoseok isn’t wrong. Your marriage may be for you and him alone, but your company– your artistry is only yours as much as it’s Hoseok’s. He has no place here and he feels it, his initial confidence that the collaboration he proposed was going to pass already dwindling by the millisecond.

“Hoseok’s right,” you cough, breaking their conversation. The tension was already too thick and you’ve barely made it halfway to looking at the entirety of the portfolio. “Reel it in, Jungkook.”

He’s jealous. He’s jealous and he forgot just how pathetic and insufficient one could feel when the green monster of heartburn decides to make an appearance. Jungkook just about doubts everything, from thinking of how your admiration for Hoseok is probably much higher than the admiration you have for him, to thinking if you even benefit from being arranged to him.

Hoseok looks over the designs, noting all the details silently.

“Huh. I see,” he hums, clearing his throat to try and keep all the crass words he has in mind to himself because you’re looking at him intently. “Skulls. Haven’t seen this one before.”

“You sketched this?” Hoseok nods every now and then, holding up the paper that had deep indents of the pencil on the paper to the point that it defeats the concept of a sketch. Your husband nods, and he wishes he hadn’t because Hoseok comments not a second later. “Figures.”

He hums, silently approving here and there of some concepts he could totally get behind. It’s not all rubbish content, but he can’t say that salvageable automatically equates to commendable.

“So? What do you think, Hobi?” you ask when the silence has gone long enough, having noticed that Jungkook already grew too quiet in your corner.

Hoseok calculates in his brain, looking from the portfolio and back to you. He tries not to clench his jaw for the sake of you silently pleading him to mince his words and actions, clasping his hands together.

“Yeah, it’s doable,” he nods, making Jungkook smile despite his ego being a little wounded. He’s bounced back miraculously, profusely thanking Hoseok with an unexplained eagerness to him. Before Jungkook could launch himself to further possibilities though, Hoseok calls for you.

“Y/N? A word, please?”

Jungkook looks back from the door, hesitant doe eyes flitting between the two of you. You don’t know exactly what’s going through his mind but you know better than to project, bidding him goodbye for the timebeing. “It’ll be quick.”

The most commendable trait you can attribute to Hoseok besides being your friend is his passion for your craft. He’s vision-oriented in the sense that he cuts straight to the chase before he could even lose the trail that the sudden burst of fervor leaves him.

“Meridian’s your baby. It’s your grandmother’s grandmother’s baby. It’s coveted. It has meaning,” Hoseok rambles, the sigh leaving him more concerned than it was relieved at being let out. He can’t mince his words now — he can’t put it in any other way besides the truth. “Collaborating with Jungkook cheapens it.”

“Hoseok.”

Your tone edges on a bite, clenching your jaw as you try to take everything in. Hoseok’s been your voice of reason for so long but you don’t know how to accept that voice now, the tinge of guilt slowly staining you because the back of your mind tells you that he isn’t wrong.

Jungkook’s streetwear brand is huge; whether or not you chalk it up to his name being linked to his family’s holding company that’s responsible for other designer brands, your husband’s brand specifically remains larger than life. It’s not a flawless brand, that much you’re sure of, but it’s still of great value.

Just perhaps not of the same degree that Hoseok holds your company to.

“It’s not all bad, but most of his work is dispassionate. It’s typical. Meridian would look cheap if you commit to this fever dream collaboration.”

There’s a rash on your neck, one that’s warm and speaks to your ear of how shitty it must feel to even agree partially to what Hoseok’s saying. Your duties as an artist in the business rarely clash with your courtesies as Jungkook’s wife — today just happens to be one of those days.

“It’s Jungkook’s idea, okay?” you relent, voice low as if in defeat of admission. You don’t mean to belittle him, you just happen to know and listen to reason. “It’s not the best, I know, but it’s honest work. Let’s give him a chance.”

“You’re giving him a chance because he’s your husband, not because you see any potential.”

Hoseok says it without uttering nor a single sense of doubt. He sounds so definite that you don’t even know if he’s still insulting Jungkook or if he’s insulting you at this point, swallowing your words.

There’s truth to your craft but you know there’s an even bigger truth to the unspoken protectiveness you have over Jungkook, the answer sounding seemingly shallow but that’s what it really is — love makes you shallow as much as it makes you deep.

“You’ll know when you’re married.”

“Arranged would be the term for you and Jungkook. Not married,” Hoseok quips. “You’re only holding back your critique. We both know it’s a dead end when it comes to creative direction.”

The both of you leave it at that, the decision being unanimous to collaborate with Jungkook despite your metalsmith’s hesitance. What you say goes, that’s just how hierarchy works.

Unbeknownst to you and Hoseok though, Jungkook’s been listening the whole time — that’s just how love operates sometimes; hidden and relinquished.

( ♡ )

Jungkook’s hurt.

How crude of Hoseok to think of him that way. How worse of you to agree even.

Jungkook’s irrational when he’s hurt, refusing to see reason. He knows at the back of his head that he’s hit a rut and pitching in a collaboration with your brand is his last-ditch attempt in sparking something. Cheap was a word for tackiness and to have your friend use it on him brings him to a new low.

It’s just jewelry. What you make is just jewelry. Just pieces of metal bended and soldered together with shiny gems that don’t possess any real meaning to them besides superficial.

It’s not that deep.

Not that deep to the point that when Hyejoo, his childhood friend turned actress turned fleeting appearance in his life every now and then (whom you hate for some reason), asks him for a favor — Jungkook barely hesitates.

Hyejoo stands before him in a shirt from his brand’s limited collection, one out of the only hundred ever made. If Jungkook recalls correctly, he didn’t even send any items from the limited collection to any of his friends; he left everyone besides you to go fend for themselves.

Perhaps his childhood friend’s truly a fan of his craft, knowing her for her utmost support towards all his releases. To be honest, the two of them aren’t even that close anymore to the point that they’re each other’s first friend to think of in dire circumstances, except now — now when she needs him for a favor.

“But I need a pink ring for the event, Jungkook!” Hyejoo whines, throwing her head back for dramatic effect. Truth be told, she knew no brand that had pink jewelry that was elegant enough for her taste except yours. She’s turned down sponsorships all for a ring you probably keep in your sock drawer. “Yes I can buy from other brands but you’re there, Kook. You’re available and I can borrow from you because your wife has a shit ton.”

Jungkook knows what Hyejoo’s talking about. It’s the one pink ring that you wore on your engagement party with him and it’s become the talk of everyone from how ethereal you looked, the one tiny piece of jewelry tying it all together.

He knows it’s pink and he knows it’s just hidden away in its jewelry box, one that you keep right next to his collection of watches. There was no fancy vault for it either, just tucked next to his timepieces as if they were of the same value.

“Come on, she won’t even notice,” Hyejoo urges him, making him inwardly cringe. She turned up on his front door unannounced asking for a favor and he feels indebted her for the last time she granted him one, the apartment complex that Hyejoo owned becoming the perfect backdrop to his collection that’s still renowned to this day.

Jungkook’s loyal, he knows he is. His loyalties lie with you and he still honors his debt — whether or not you’re caught in the middle. It’s true that you won’t even notice, you don’t even peek at it anyway! For someone who’s a part of a family of jewelers, you rarely accessorize yourself gaudily.

“Fine. I’ll let you borrow,” Jungkook mutters, finally relenting to Hyejoo’s requests. He opens the door wider, on the way to your shared bedroom but looks back hastily at Hyejoo to point a stern finger. “But give it back, okay?”

It takes a great amount of strength for Jungkook to even hand the ring to Hyejoo, not even including the box with her because a) you would know that it was missing, and b) he wants her to wear it at all times until she gives it back the next day. Jungkook takes it personally to flick her wrist to serve as a reminder that he had given it to her already, even going so far to take a picture of the two of them and make her sign on his notes app.

He’s not necessarily betraying you — or so he thinks. It was just jewelry that you wouldn’t miss, same as the shirts that he gives away to his friends. Their retail prices may be lightyears away but you would understand; you always do.

Jungkook gaslights himself into thinking that he did no wrong but the guilt is what slowly gnaws on him, the tips of his fingers going numb every time he looks at you.

Come to think of it, his decision to lend your ring to Hyejoo was out of sheer pettiness even without the assurance that you’ll take notice of it. His hurt over Hoseok’s comment disappeared the moment he handed her your ring, but to his surprise, it’s anxiousness that replaces his irritation.

He kisses you good night still as if today didn’t happen; how his irrationality had gotten the best of him when he got hurt by Hoseok’s remarks over his passion and creativity, and just a few hours later, it’s his impulsiveness and misplaced urge for vindication that lent your unsuspecting ring to his childhood friend.

“Jungkook!” you yell out in panic, urging him awake instantly that his heart beats incessantly despite being pulled out of sleep. You look frantic, the rawness in your eyes not from your lack of sleep, but instead from tears. “Call 911. The Interpol! The CIA! The fucking Blue House!”

“What?! What happened?!”

He’s panicked just as you are, hands shakily clutching his phone. He looks you up and down and inspects you for injuries to which there are none, nothing but overwhelm making your body shake.

Jungkook can’t bear to see you so glum and helpless, your bottom lip trembling as you look at him feeling nothing but pathetic.

“My ring,” you whisper brokenly, the phantom feeling of wearing it making you sob even more. “My ring is gone.”

Jungkook’s mouth dries, the panic in his own body turning against himself, his remorse growing into something larger than life. He could physically see the confusion on your face on the way he paled, his phone dropping out of his hold.

Your husband’s hands reach for you but you don’t take them, recoiling even before he could open his mouth. Jungkook was readable — too readable to the point that you wish he had lied to your face instead.

“I-I can explain.”

Jungkook weakens by the knees when the words drape from the tip of his tongue, your chest sucking in an inhale so sharp that he gets weakened by the force of it. “I lent it to Hyejoo.”

You’re quiet, the type of rage in you simmering ever so slowly that it builds to an immense heat. You don’t know if you can ever muster to look at Jungkook in the eye, your middle finger that knows the grooves of your ring twitching in muscle memory.

“You what?” you croak, tilting your head. You know what you’ve heard but you just wish you’re mistaken this time, cursing your own accuracy. “Who told you that you could do that?”

Jungkook’s cornered in his mind and he spews the first thing in his mind, no matter how stupid it sounded.

“Yours is mine and mine is-…”

“That doesn’t apply here! You’re so fucking-…” you just about burst in the seams, clenching your jaw so hard to the point that you give yourself a headache. You’re resolute this way, the pitiful look on your husband’s face not getting a single drop of remorse from you. “Get it back.”

You wouldn’t have lent it to anyone regardless if Jungkook asked you, but you would have considered at the very least. For him to take something so special to you and loan it to someone you’re not even fond of ticks a wire in your brain, your anger coming before the sadness fully hits.

“Y/N!” he hisses, angry at both the situation and himself but he now thinks of the courtesy that he didn’t possess when Hyejoo borrowed your ring. “I can’t turn back on my word.”

“What? Your word that favors Hyejoo and shits on mine?” you scoff in disbelief, laughing at the mockery Jungkook makes of you. It’s insulting and saddening and you can’t even begin to think of the extensive cleaning and safekeeping you’ll have to do once you get your ring back. “I said, get it back. You’re my husband and you’re just her friend, you have all the means to take my ring back.”

Jungkook turns somber, a stark contrast to your anger. He pleads with you, finally closing the gap between you to which you roll your eyes.

“The event is tonight. She’ll return it tomorrow. Please, it’ll be embarrassing.”

“For you or for her?” you ask but the rage in your voice is already simmering, the daunting thoughts of how Jungkook thinks of his friend’s sake and himself first than his wife making you clench your fists around nothing.

“Y/N, please.”

His incessant begging does little to influence your decision because you’ve already changed your mind, the rage that dipped in you and the fact that your heart’s already aching despite having just woken up converting you instead.

“Tomorrow morning. I want it back in the case before I wake up.”

The two of you sleep apart for the night and Jungkook can’t even bring himself to contest it knowing that he doesn’t deserve to hold you. He simmers in self-loathing, unable to sleep the night when his phone dings from the notifications it has of your name.

Hyejoo’s look on the carpet trends the whole night, the main focus of everyone being the pink ring that adorns her ring finger. There’s threads of speculations how you and her are either best friends or how she must’ve bought it from you. If only he could, Jungkook would reply to each comment saying that Hyejoo doesn’t hold a candle to your elegance and how the ring has always been yours — that it’s his fault that his friend’s even wearing the same piece.

He’s restless and he can’t even begin to think how much more tired you feel. Of your name being brought up and of him royally fucking up.

When Jungkook thinks it couldn’t be worse, karma one-ups him from the very mistake he committed when he entertained Hyejoo’s favor in his mind.

“You’re stupid,” you spit to Hyejoo who stands on your porch, head downturned in shame. She had half the decency to face you personally but lacks the rest to honor her end of the bargain; she lacks the intellect to respect you.

She lost the ring. She lost the pink ring you’ve treasured and cared for since you were a teenager, losing it after a careless and drunk decision of skinny dipping. You feel like you’ve been made a fool not only by your husband, but also by his friend that you don’t care for at all.

The tears fall out of your eyes in anger, each one being in a rush to exit because you’re full of resentment at this point.

“You’re a brainless, stupid, careless fucking idiot. I don’t want to see you in my household again,” you point at her, making her step back.

“This is Jungkook’s-…” she squeaks, just about to correct you when you point at her even more menacingly. You’re not even joking around as it seems like, eyes angry to the point that they lack of love, even for Jungkook who tries to hold you back.

“I’ll get a restraining order on you.”

Hyejoo scurries out all with the promise to reimburse you (as if she has the money to do so) that falls on deaf ears, your hand slamming the door too hard that your husband swears the walls shook with your force.

You look unrecognizable with the sheer disappointment you have for him, your anger dripping off of you thickly that he’s rendered speechless.

“You,” you seethe. “I fucking hate you.”

You never told him that before.

You’ve gotten mad at him on several occasions but never to this degree where you tell him that you loathe him. This is the furthest that you’ve took it, the honesty behind your words making his bottom lip tremble.

Jungkook’s eyes have been perpetually moist since last night but it’s only now that his eyes sting with white hot sadness. You’re only reacting out of your state of overwhelm; you must be, right?

“I hate you so, so much, Jungkook.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“No, I really mean that,” you scoff to his face, shaking your head in absoluteness. “What would you do if I sold your car, huh?”

Jungkook wants to apologize to you so bad but he doesn’t have the right words to give you the proper one that you deserve. He gives you an answer off the top of his head, the disappointment for himself growing if he does otherwise.

“It’s just a car.”

“Well this is just not a fucking ring to me! It’s not simple like that!” you burst, your movements jerky.

“I’ll buy you a new ring,” he whispers, wanting to tug at his hair for being so stupid. He should’ve considered the possibility that Hyejoo has a knack for being careless; he failed to account that he went behind your back to lend your ring to someone else in the first place.

“I can buy my own rings!” you exclaim. “What you don’t get is that this means the world to me! If your uncle gave you a car, and I gave it to someone else and now it’s on the bottom of the ocean, what would you feel?”

“It’s just a car from my uncle. I can replace it. I can buy a better one.”

Jungkook knows he’s just making excuses. He’s just being defensive now that he’s cornered and has no excuse for behaving so poorly. He can’t escape the anger and the disappoint he’s flooded with, not when you cry out of sheer distress.

“Not if my aunt isn’t here! Not if this ring is one of the only things I have of her!”

Sure, your aunt was dodgy. She’s the black sheep of your family and had done more than a lot of questionable things, but she cared for you. She had given you her own ring when you were twelve and whilst it was too big for you to wear, she gave you a chain for you to wear it around your neck.

The ring is something you can easily replicate but the thought behind it is what you can’t take back. It’s not the only piece of her that you have but it’s one of the earliest things you obtained; one of the most notable pieces out of the bunch.

“You don’t think. You don’t care. You don’t love.”

For Jungkook to carelessly seize it from you and loan it to someone else grips your heart like a vice. You’re gonna dwell on it for more than a couple of days and realize that you have more sentimental and elegant things you have of your aunt eventually — but what matters to you is how you feel now. How Jungkook had disappointed you so bad, you feel like throwing up.

“I want to divorce you,” you seethe, meaning your words at the heat of the moment. Jungkook stands frozen, hearing his own heartbeat thrum in his ears. “I can find a new husband. What I can’t find — what neither you nor Hyejoo can’t find is my ring.”

( ♡ )

You do it while he’s sleeping.

You take advantage of Jungkook’s fatigue and disorientation from crying his eyes out, passed out in the couch while he hugs himself with his arms to try and replicate your embrace. It’s already morning and it only looks like he slept just minutes ago, positively dozed off.

You take much care in slipping of the platinum wedding ring from his finger, joining your discarded one in your palm. There’s only carelessness when you scoop them into a tiny drawstring bag, taking it to Hoseok and doing a regular work day as if your head hadn’t pounded with hurt just last night.

It’s only convenient for the both of you; Jungkook’s decision slingshots back to him, and your client would be happy. Hoseok texted you last night asking if he should grant the request of a high-profile client with a titanium pendant, and it just so happens that you have two chunks of it that you no longer need. It could be melted and repurposed — after all, it’s just jewelry according to Jungkook.

The guilt of your impulsiveness doesn’t hit you instantly, it only comes with confusion when you see your husband in shambles.

When you come home, the whole house is upturned. Jungkook’s frantic, waking up to a hand that bears no wedding ring; no proof of you. His eyes glaze with relief briefly when he sees you, urging you to take in the situation fully.

“The police. The CIA! Interpol! MI6 — or is it MI7? Fuck, Mr. Bean’s movie was too good! Get the Blue House on the line!” he blubbers, looking back and forth the cushions of the couch and his hand. “My wedding ring!”

It’s perhaps a ballsy move made on your part, but you can’t guilt yourself into bearing the blame. You made your wedding rings and it only makes sense for you to get rid of them. The bands are symbolic, made and upheld with love for the last two years but in your haste of upset, you’ve given them away.

You perhaps regret it slightly, the fog in your brain lifting but only faintly. You’re still mad and disappointed at Jungkook, and perhaps you don’t mean the bit of divorcing him, but you do mean wholeheartedly the sentimentality you have behind all your jewelry.

The platinum in your ring finger just felt too heavy last night that you grew weary of it, not thinking twice when you removed yours and Jungkook’s. Even if the two of you make up and you don’t end up divorcing Jungkook, you wouldn’t want to wear the same ring that brought you the same pain during its stint.

“I sold them,” you answer, turning your back on him before you could see the anguish in his face. “We have no need for them.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook’s making you a rice bowl as an apology.

Buttered fried rice, egg, bacon, and all with a generous amount of cheese. It’s his hangover food when he needs something greasy and filling but the only difference from his past hangovers and your anger at him is the latter barely feels like it could be rectified.

He says his apologies again through the door and he’ll happily repeat it to your face if you stand longer in front of him for more than a minute, his panic even larger than the oil splashes he’s gotten from making your bacon eagerly.

“I’m so sorry, baby. It was stupid of me to lend your ring to Hyejoo behind your back and I swear I won’t do it again. I know that ring meant a lot to you and I-I was so pathetic by invalidating that,” he mutters through the door, looking at the frying pan every now and then to make sure he wasn’t burning anything. “I have every intention of finding your ring and making it up to you, cross my heart!”

It feels insulting, even. For him to think that he could change the ache of your heart with a simple hot meal. Jungkook realizes that he really is dense when you don’t answer the door for the twenty minutes that he knocks. When you do open up, he feels even more dumb.

Just twenty minutes ago, he wired you twice the amount of the worth you estimated your aunt’s ring to be. Combined with the pitiful amount Hyejoo wires you, it’s then do you realize that you’re not fazed by money. The initiative is there, sure, but the ache in your heart hasn’t subsided completely.

You do miss Jungkook. It does tug at your heartstrings to see and hear him beat himself up over and over again the more you realize that you’re attached to your aunt’s memories rather than the ring itself, but just two nights away from each other won’t absolve everything he’s done and failed to do.

When you open the door, you’re greeted by the sight of your husband who tries far too hard for his own good. Melancholy isn’t a good look on him because he looks the most unkempt he’s ever appeared in two days than the two years you’ve been living with him under the same roof.

Jungkook waits for you to register his attempt, holding up a hot bowl with his bare hands that you resist the urge to take it from him for a second. His ring finger’s occupied by a cheap mood ring, rapidly turning red at the moment from the heat of the bowl.

You look down fully expecting to be swayed even just a little bit, but when you do, you feel the kick to just slam the door right back.

“I hate runny eggs,” you scowl. “Two years married and you don’t even know how I like my eggs cooked.”

Jungkook wants the ground to swallow him whole.

He wishes that if it was true that chickens are the last true descendants of dinosaurs, there’d be a chicken the same size as them that pecks him into oblivion.

He hurriedly turns on the stove and scoops up the egg back into it, careful not to have any of the runny folk get on your meal. He itches in frustration, his ring finger that’s temporarily adorned with a cheap and clunky mood ring being accurate by turning blue in sadness.

Jungkook’s so out of it, so disappointed in himself that he doesn’t notice he cooks the egg until it’s burnt, the char of it reflecting how poorly he thinks of himself now.

It’s like when you were disappointed in him that time when his outlandish aunt made a rude comment about you and you were speechless the whole night that he stayed silent. He remedied it by later groveling at your feet and marching to his aunt and laying out all of his intentions for her to grow up and apologize to you, the same aunt that’s now blacklisted from all the gatherings.

It’s like when you were upset at him when he left abruptly in the morning and didn’t tell you where he was going because he didn’t know if you would care, partying it up in a different country for his friend’s bachelor’s party and coming home a day later with you hot on his heels. Jungkook made it up to you by once again apologizing profusely and updating you on his whereabouts since then (sometimes he gives too much information), always making it a point to bring two powerbanks with him so he can text you when he’s left and arrived.

This time though, he doesn’t know how exactly to make it up to you. He’s been in contact with professional divers to try and look for the ring for you, but he can’t be of much help until he comes along to know for sure. He’s thinking of all these different ways and approaches but he’s unsure if any of them are sufficient enough to rectify his mistake.

Jungkook feels pathetic because he swears he loves you and knows everything about you, but here he is — crying about how he doesn’t even know how you like your eggs cooked.

You’re upset at him, and he can’t do anything right for you.

( ♡ )

Jungkook tries again at dinner.

It’s the day of Meridian’s 100th anniversary and the two of you play it up for the cameras, your husband’s attention on you so keen and affectionate that you almost forget you were supposed to be mad at him.

He takes advantage of the cameras during the carpet session, tugging you close with his hand on your waist as he seizes the chance to hug you tightly at the end when you enter the hall with no cameras in place. He breathes you in as he always does, hesitant to let you go and exhale because you’re the very scent and existence of love.

Jungkook studied, of course he did. He’s touched up on his jewelry knowledge because he’s more than desperate now to seek your validation, nervously smiling all around as he waits for people to stop approaching you in your table.

His attention’s fixed on your necklace, the stone on it similar to the very ring he lent and lost. He’s brought it up about five times already, animatedly reciting trivia about it as if you’re not the literal face of the jewelry industry. He clears his throat, leaning in for you to whisper intimately, but just loud enough for the other people to hear a tad.

“Ah, that pink sapphire looks so good on you, babe.”

“Shut up,” you mutter sharply, making Jungkook’s heart skip a beat. You melted against him when he was hugging you, that much he was sure of. He doesn’t know why you’ve become harsh again all of a sudden, forgetting that his lapse this time was opening his mouth. “Stop saying that.”

“Saying what?” his brows furrow, swallowing the lump on his throat. “Pink?” he guesses, eyes wavering as he tests the waters. “Pink sapphire?”

It takes a lot in you not to make an outburst. Truth be told, you’ve started easing up on Jungkook but his attempts at trying hard is just too much and in the wrong direction, hearing pink sapphire over and over again reminding you of the ring you lost.

“Yes, that! Stop talking.”

“But I did my homework! Of course I’m not gonna stop talking,” he defends himself, the nervousness rising to his throat like bile. God, what if he did the wrong homework? What if he’s missed the assignment all along?

“Clearly you didn’t try hard enough because you’re wrong, Jungkook. This isn’t a pink sapphire — this is a pink diamond.”

Jungkook’s brain stops functioning for a solid five seconds, his mouth drying. The only proof that he was still breathing is his big eyes threatening to water.

“And so is my ring that you gave to your friend without asking me,” you add.

“What?!” he sputters in disbelief, recounting to all the other times he named the gem in multiple occasions even before today. “B-but I said it so many times before! You didn’t even correct me!”

“I didn’t correct you because you looked so proud of yourself!” you exclaim, surrendering with a sigh. Pink sapphire was the first gem that Jungkook had managed to name in your trivia night on the first month of your marriage, his avidness on getting it “right” so contagious that you didn’t have the heart to correct him.

“Pink sapphire is dirt cheap compared to pink diamonds, Jungkook! You just keep saying sapphire over and over again because it’s your birthstone,” you mumble, looking around to see if there were any people growing nosy at your conversation. “I let you say it over and over again to the point that I wore them instead of diamonds because you just can’t shut up about them,” you grit.

This is the only time you reference your sentiment with the jewelry itself in words, your last profession of your disappointment in him being the removal of your wedding bands.

“That’s the thing with you — you can’t tell. This isn’t just about emerald o-or octagon cuts, Jungkook. This is our marriage and you gave a girl that I don’t like my ring that meant so much to me! Now you can’t get it back.”

Jungkook’s speechless, holding back tears. You fear you’ll cry yourself when you look at his round, pleading eyes so you don’t, squeezing in the last word even if he always lets you have it.

“And now I’m correcting you because you’re embarrassing me. Now please, lay off with the gem terms.”

( ♡ )

Things have been tame between you and Jungkook.

You’ve aired out your grievances and Jungkook’s still trying hard as always, perplexing you because he hasn’t gone restless. It’s progressively warmer between the two of you but it’s nowhere near to what the two of you used to be, the air between the two of you going static that you’ve utilized it for your own.

It’s just a quick getaway for the day, hopping aboard a yacht with the intention of giving yourself a break. You’ve reflected enough but not alone with yourself, the period of space with Jungkook being much-needed.

Until you’re mistaken of course.

You think your mind’s playing tricks on you when the boat rocks more than it would with waves, but the all too familiar figure coming into your vision turns out to be real. It’s Jungkook in the flesh, wearing his scuba suit and gear.

It’s a pure coincidence that is. All Jungkook knew was that you were going on a yacht today and you didn’t specify where; meanwhile, all you knew was that he was going to be scuba diving, but he didn’t specify where either.

It’s purely kismet but your bodyguard Taehyung doesn’t seem to think so, legitimately thinking it was a pirate instead of your husband so he repeatedly smacks him with an oar until you stop him.

“Jungkook!” you call out, getting your bodyguard to stop. Atleast he has the decency to look sheepish, but he was genuinely concerned! He thought you were being hijacked by someone dressed in the most unassuming scuba suit, holding a plastic bag in his hands.

Your husband barely winces from the pain because he’s high from all the adrenaline, chest rising rapidly in succession. “Y/N, baby, I — hold on, I’m gonna, wait-…”

He looks tired still but there’s a light to him, either his radiance has come back or it was just the sun behind him but either way, it was nice to look at Jungkook who isn’t groveling at your feet for once.

He finally catches his breath, standing up to his full height as he tries not to ramble his words.

“I bought all the fish.”

“You did what?” your eyes widen, pathetically looking at the vast ocean around you. Perhaps you’re so startled (and amused) by Jungkook’s sudden and silly appearance that you forgot to apply common sense, just as breathless as he is.

“Okay maybe not all, but I did buy a lot of fish,” he concedes, nodding incessantly. He’s too excited that he can’t contain himself, even more-so when you finally look at him without disdain staining your features.

“For what?” you ask, genuinely curious.

Jungkook smiles, never having been more proud retelling you his previous failure.

“Your favorite seafood restaurant? I bought them their stock, provided that they’ll open up every last fish in there to see if they had your ring,” he shrugs as if it’s a common thought process to abide by, later shaking his head. “They don’t.”

If there’s just one trait that Jungkook had to be known with by everyone, it would be his persistence.

Jeon Jungkook is endearingly, cloyingly, and annoyingly persistent with the things he desires and the things he’s passionate about. You’re his wife — you’re his every last desire and passion. He had wronged you fresh from a week and some days ago but that timeframe has already given him ample time to fully redeem himself.

He can’t undo what he did. He can’t reverse the time he lent his wife’s ring to his friend who loses it not a full day later. Jungkook can’t take back any of the things he did but what he can do is be dedicatedly persistent in correcting himself.

He’s tanner, his muscles are bulged and straining, and his skin’s itchy with all the salt but he takes all of these things in stride — he’s become a better person through persistence.

“I also tried snorkeling for a week and I still couldn’t find it,” he trails, biting his bottom lip while he clasps his hands behind his back. “But I tried again today.”

It’s either relief or endearment that fills your face full, but nonetheless, the light that Jungkook sees from you lulls him to the comfort and warmth he’s been yearning from you for the past week. His eyes are strained and his body feels itself moving in waves as if he was still underwater, but he just closes his eyes to savor the moment.

You bound to him to put him in an embrace, your husband instantly melting in your hold. It’s either all the salt in his eyes or it’s just the realization that you’ve finally forgiven him and it’s all the love he feels for you, but either way, you hold Jungkook tighter.

“I found your ring.”

( ♡ )

You don’t know when Jungkook first loved you.

You can’t pinpoint an exact moment when Jungkook started acting differently towards you because he’s always been the same way from day one, the same qualities that make him both annoying and endearing having been there from the start.

You could always ask but you can’t bring yourself to. It shouldn’t bother you at the end of the day because the important thing is that Jungkook loves you. He loves without reservations, the pinnacle of his love language being his patheticness in trying hard.

Jeon Jungkook may try hard for everyone, but he tries the most for you.

He wakes up early and you only realize his absence when you turn to pat the warm space he’s supposedly left behind, making you rub the sleep out of your eyes.

You wonder for a second that if Jungkook left the bed early and is quiet at the moment, he’s probably at the bottom of the staircase again because he yawned while going down. There’s no schedule today for either of you and you aren’t sick for him to make any sudden trips downstairs, his absence making you wonder this time.

There’s clanging coming from the garage, piquing your interest largely. There sits Jungkook wearing less safety gear that you’d like, blocks and blocks of wood surrounding him.

Your husband looks up, unassuming as usual while he breaks out into a grin.

“I’m making furniture for you.”

“That’s not necessary,” you snort, recounting all of the pieces you’ve acquired from your friend who’s an expert on woodcarving. Jungkook seems to know this too but he’s insistent, shaking his head eagerly.

His eyeglasses (his prescription ones instead of the actual safety ones) fog up from both his sweat and the few tears he’s shed out of frustration, taking them out so you could see the passion in his eyes. The passion’s definitely there, dampening his eyelashes and even tinting his eyelids pink.

“No, I’ll paint it up real good and it’ll blend it to your aesthetic.”

“Besides that, Jungkook,” you warn, coming down to squat on the space beside him. “You’re not good with tools.”

“Not good at them like Hoseok?” he questions, raising his brow. He’s frustrated and cranky and he just compared his (eager yet improper) use of large power tools compared to Hoseok’s expertise in using much, much smaller tools. Jungkook’s sweaty from all the effort, vaguely gesturing to the item in front of him. “Please, can Hoseok do it like me?”

Your husband points to the lopsided bench (?) slash coffee table (?) slash abstract piece (?) in front of you whose message is that they’re tired, only the scoopers for faux blood missing. It’s quite the spectacle. Not necessarily a statement piece because it raises more questions than any resolute takeaways at all.

“No, not really,” you joke around, winking to get the joke across your husband’s skull who sometimes reads between the lines too literally. “He can do it much, much better than you.”

“I’m trying to be romantic!” Jungkook whines with no real harm. “Go ahead, why don’t you divorce me and marry him because he’s so good with using a hammer?”

The two of you were back; the same playfulness and warmth rekindling, if not stronger. Some things were just too strong to grow out of, such as Jungkook’s double takes when it comes to another name being linked to you.

He’s just making sure, still as desperate to gain your validation even before the ring incident took place.

“That was… a joke if you couldn’t tell,” Jungkook laughs robotically, eyes narrowing and widening at you every two seconds. “I’m just kidding. You knew that. You wouldn’t do that… right?”

You wouldn’t.

He knows that you love him. He had known it during his state of vulnerability and he knows it now even in a state of security. He knows it even without a wedding ring, your promise of making new ones for the both of you remaining in his mind.

The downfall of Jeon Jungkook wouldn’t be his persistence that also bears the ability to be his uprising, it was never that. Jungkook’s downfall would only be the loss of you and it’s the only absence that he can’t risk.

Your husband tries so hard that it brings you secondhand embarrassment at times, his mishap with the pink sapphire cementing in your mind just how much of himself he dedicates to you, even with lapses along the way.

Jungkook tries so hard that he ends the day with splinters on his hand and his sinuses clogged with far too much dust. His effort doesn’t always equate to the best but he gives what he always has when you’re in the equation.

It’s a wooden box for your rings, a shallow heart with your initials carved on the inside. It’s smooth even without the varnish, a stark contrast to his hands that are all rough from doing all the labor.

“I can’t give you jewelry that you already have.”

Jungkook admits to you whole-heartedly, sitting at the end of the bed while he watches you admire the box in your vanity.

“But I can make shirts for you. Stitch up your name real nicely on my chest pocket,” he offers, the smile on his lips growing. “I can make furniture for you,” he shrugs, chuckling at himself. “I can’t guarantee that it’s usable but I can make furniture a little.”

You smile so warmly that Jungkook forgets all of the little pains, melting away his fatigue. If you could put all the love you have for Jungkook in a single space, even the mansion the two of you reside in won’t be enough.

“Cooking too. I can also cook a-and make perfect rice and I promise to remember how you like your eggs in the morning.”

Jungkook knows it to heart by now, even without the reminder he’s written himself pasted on the counter. Your eyes were just so glossy and moist that Jungkook can’t help but to spring to your side, patting them dry with his shirt.

Your husband wipes away your tears even before they could form and it pushes them out further, the voice in your throat dwindling. It’s the cheap and rusting mood ring on his ring finger that gets you to sob, seeing the faint green outline that it leaves.

He takes notice of your observation, understanding that jewelry means much more to you that he could comprehend which is why he’s quick to remedy your thoughts.

“I can always get tattoos of you if that’s what you want,” he continues, smiling sheepishly. “Actually, that’s what I want.”

Jungkook takes off his ring and it forces you to blink away your tears, lips parting open when it clicks.

It’s your initials on Jungkook’s ring finger, recognizing it as your own handwriting.

You’re filled with a great amount of gratitude that runs even deeper than the ink on Jungkook’s skin, making you sniffle and it gets him to bury your face against his chest while he shushes you.

“Why would you get that?”

It belatedly hits you that since you took your wedding bands, your husband’s left ring finger had not been vacant since.

“Because you sold our rings,” Jungkook shrugs, the look of ease on his face evident. “You sold them but we’re still married to each other,” he gently kisses your temple, letting you hold his hand to look at the tattoo closer. “We’re married. I still want people to know that I’m married to you.”

“Well,” you clear your throat, distraught with your emotions. “Your mood ring says you’re sad.”

“Passionate would be the term,” he sniffles, transferring the cheap ring to your finger. He giggles when it changes colors immediately, the timing of the situation being impeccable. “Okay now my ring says you’re happy.”

“Are you?” he asks whilst laughing but the both of you know it bears a weight.

“I am,” you answer just as seriously. “We’re okay, Jungkook. I forgive you.”

If you ask Jungkook what would his greatest joy and his greatest pain be, both answers would be you.

“Is your tattoo artist still around?” you ask while he puts you close to his chest, snapping him out of his trance.

“What for?”

“I think I want to match your permanent ring.”

“Are you real?” he mutters to himself, questioning your existence that he still isn’t sure if he deserves to have and love for the rest of his life. “Are you really real? You exist?”

“Yeah, he’s still around but I’d rather do it on you myself,” Jungkook answers eventually, returning the question. “Is that okay? Let me learn for a few months and I’ll tattoo my initials on you myself?”

You furrow your brows, not a single doubt placed on you if your husband was the one to tattoo you. “Yeah, but is that okay with you? You’re the only one who’s gonna have me on you for a couple more months. I can’t reciprocate because you want to ink me yourself.”

Jungkook only smiles, the warmth enough to outshine the sun.

“That’s not new to me,” he reassures you. “I loved you even before I married you.”

#thank u for 2022 :) consider this as my gift for the holidays!!!#jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #bts jungkook imagine

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hansols-yoda-boxers · 2 years

Text

Oct 9th [Yeosang + Orgasm Denial] (also mean!yeosang and degradation)

[1:14] You bit down on your lip as Yeosang’s fingers sunk into your core. Your hands grasped nervously at his thighs on either side of you as you rested back against him. It was too easy to be cocky with him. All day you were a teasing little brat and you knew he wouldn’t stand for it but you just couldn’t help yourself. Out in public he was so cute, he got so flustered when you flirted with and teased him. You always had to see just a little bit more of it.

He curled his fingers just how he knew you liked it. You let out a shaky breath, keeping your legs open for him and feeling the pleasure curl through you from each movement his long fingers gave you. They reached just the right spot and he knew it. He could make you cum so quickly if he wanted to and that’s what made you nervous.

He didn’t tell you what his punishment plans were, he just told you to strip and sit on the bed for him and you did just what he said. It didn’t help that the teasing made you all worked up too, so needy for him that he barely needed to do anything before he could sink his fingers into you.

“You wanted this so badly, didn’t you?” He murmured in your ear.

“Yes,” you breathed, eyes falling closed.

“Is that why you’ve been such a little whore today?” You couldn’t help the grin that tugged at your lips but you weren’t expecting him to notice. “Oh, you think it’s funny?”

“No,” you said in a completely unconvincing voice.

“You think teasing me all day is a good idea? Am I push over to you?” The tone of his voice sent shivers down your spine and you loved you. You arched back against him, letting out a wanton moan as he curled his fingers into you even more agonizingly slowly.

“Of course not,” you moaned, savouring the intoxicating feeling and trying to keep yourself from fucking his fingers. He was far too perceptive.

“You’re already so desperate,” he murmured. “Trying to keep your hips still. You want to fuck my fingers so badly, don’t you?”

“Mm I always do,” you grinned. “So good.”

He chuckled and it made the nerves rise in your stomach again. You still didn’t know his plan and maybe pushing him wasn’t the best play at the moment. You could never help it though. Being cocky was so much fun and if it meant he would make you cum over and over as punishment that was more than welcome. He could pick something else but that was his favourite.

“Such a greedy little whore. You think I’ll just give you everything you want?”

You leaned back and opened your eyes, giving him the sweetest gaze you could muster as his fingers started moving faster. His other hand was slipping down your body and your stomach tensed under the touch of his fingers in anticipation.

“You always make me feel good,” you moaned. “And you always give me what I want.”

He gave you a grin that was decidedly cold and it chilled you more than any of his words so far. You bit down on your lip, squirming and feeling more nerves that only mixed with your arousal, making it that much more potent.

“Is that it?” He murmured. “I’m your little puppet? Doing everything you want, hm?”

He pressed a third finger into your heat and started moving them faster, still reaching just as deep. Each movement brought a wash of pleasure through you and the warmth in the pit of your stomach was curling tight, muscles starting to tense and thighs twitching.

You weren’t sure if it was wise to agree with him or not. But you had a big mouth and very little filter when you got fucked out you started talking back before you could stop your self.

“Just my puppet, my dom who does everything I want.”

You let out a cry as the fingers of his free hand found your clit, started to rub rough, quick circles against the sensitive bud. Your thighs tensed but you did your best to hold them open. You leaned back against him fully, letting moans pour from your lips as your eyes fell shut, feeling your high approaching.

“Just a glorified sex toy to a pretty whore, hm?” He growled. “That’s all? Just here to do your bidding and make you cum all over my fingers like the needy little slut you are?”

“Yes, please,” you moaned out, whole body tensing and back arching away from him as you moaned out. Nearly there.

In an instant he pulled his fingers away. Before you even managed to whine he had a tight grip on your wrists and had slammed them down on the bed to keep your legs open. You squirmed in his grasp, whimpering as your high started to ebb.

“Please, I was so close,” you whined.

Yeosang’s breath was hot on your neck and the skin of your ear as he spoke. “I know. I know just how close you were.” You gasped as he pulled your hands behind you roughly, he held them with one hand while he grabbed something from the bedside table before tying your wrists behind your back.

“Did you really think I would let you cum?” He laughed.

“I-I” You tried to twist around to look at him but he held you still. You felt dumbfounded. You expected him to overstimulate you, maybe even edge you for a while, or get him off. Not deny you completely.

“B-But.”

“But what? You think a slutty little brat deserves to cum?”

“But I wanna cum,” you whined, still not quite believing it. He pushed you down off the bed, onto your knees on the floor. You hit the floor with a gasp and gazed up at him as he got off the bed and stepped in front of you, one hand sinking into your hair and the other undoing his belt.

“And I want a good sub, looks like we’re both disappointed.” He yanked your hair back. “Now, open your whore mouth and put it to good use.” He gave you a cold smile that sent a thrill down your spine and nearly could have made you cum on the spot. “Maybe I’ll let you cum tomorrow.”

#yeosang is so nice but i start writing him and make him so mean #mean yeo is just so much fun #also yay! i am caught up #its 2:30 but tomorrow is a holiday #timestamp #kinktober 2022 #ateez imagines #ateez smut #atz smut #atz imagines #yeosang imagines #yeosang smut #kang yeosang smut

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rwqv · 1 year

Text

christmas cheer

or, rev tries to write

a quackity x reader for @wimbledonsoot (because there is not enough 😢)

event organized by @grey-rambles ^_^

cw: swearing, mentions of quackity’s scar, fighting (verbally and physically)

yoooo hahaha hiiii sorry for the wait im just really bad at timing and i still got it out though so hahahha hi

————

“Shit!” Quackity yelled at the top of his lungs. “You bitch, I am going to fucking kill you-”

Quackity looked at you with eyebrows furrowed, and you’d think if he looked at you any longer you’d catch on fire.

You smiled. “Shouldn’t have left Boner sitting out all alone in the rain, poor poor Boner. Do not ever try to steal my shit again.”

The pile of bones left from Boner’s corpse trembled and clacked together in the downpour of rain.

Quackity gritted his teeth. “You’re gonna fucking regret this.”

Months passed. You moved into a house in the middle of nowhere, leaving no trace of where you went. People came by your house whether to talk, trade, or just hand off supplies. You quickly forgot about Quackity’s threat, as you had heard from the people passing by that he got his ass handed to him against Technoblade. You feared nothing from his vague and empty threats.

Until one day, the sound of crackling reached your ears while you were fast asleep. You opened up your eyes only to see your entire farm, your front lawn, and part of your house was blown up. You sprinted outside, it being around 6 AM, to find everything you had been working on in ruins. You were furious, to say the least. The anger almost fueled you to just blow up yourself, until you found a little note not too far away from the wreckage.

Merry Christmas! How do you like the new renovations? Your house was looking quite boring, so I decided to spruce it up a bit ;)

Meet me ASAP. Las Nevadas. My office. I’ll be dying to catch up with you.

-Q

That petty bitch decided to pull this on you. You quickly grabbed your sword and pickaxe (for good measure) and set out for ‘Las Nevadas’ with the help of Tubbo.

As soon as the goat hybrid led you to the sandy hills, he let you marvel at what you were seeing on your own. Luminous signs, advertisements, towering structures, beautiful waterfalls and the cow farms were piercing your eyes, almost too much to take in at once. You stood there a while, gawking at the myriad of sights you were bearing witness to, until Tubbo looked back at you and snapped you out of it.

“Hurry up! It’s getting late, and navigating through the woods in the dark is a pain in the arse.” Tubbo whined.

Completely ignoring his complaints, you tentatively asked, “How is Big Q?”

Tubbo then half-assedly responded, “y’know”

“No, I don’t know?” You said.

“Y’know,” He once again responded, but before you could ask him what he meant you reached the doors to his office.

BANG BANG BANG!

You knocked on his door with your fists, almost punching the door. Q had no right to do that to you.

You then heard a sigh, and a shuffle, then followed by a sing-songy voice sung out by who obviously had to be Quackity, “Come in!”

Jesus. You collected yourself one more time before slamming the door open, taking in his room in entirety.

His walls were offwhite with gold pillars running through the walls, shining bright. Bookshelves lined around his desk area, which was facing away from the massive window as a wall, letting the sunset light breathe out into the surrounding areas. The Christmas lights and the tree with gambling coins on it gleamed so bright you’d think it was a star. The marble ground contrasted nicely with the red carpet leading down a straight line right to Quackity’s desk. You finally looked at him to take in the final piece of the puzzle. His hair was longer, a beanie no longer being able to hide the absolute mess his hair was. His face was tainted with a massive scar across his face, leaving one of his eyes blind. His dress shirt was half unbuttoned, revealing the necklace with 2 rings on them, both shining either orange or purple. His wings were out for the first time, yet they did not look healthy at all, since when you knew Quackity was Vice President, Schlatt would clip his wings in a desperate act of power. His feet were up on the desk, him obviously smug and reclining about your obedience to come here at his orders, almost like a dog.

“Oh, I see you’ve come to see me?” He asked calmly.

You were absolutely not having it. “You wrote it in your note, since, yknow, you blew up my fucking house.” you spat out.

“But I did not, I only blew up your front lawn!” He smiled, revealing the one gold tooth he had around the area where the massive scar was located.

You stomped over and grabbed him by the collar. “Now listen here, Alex.” You said with poison in your voice. “You’re going to repay me twofold in property and emotional damage, as well as beg for forgiveness from me. Got that?”

He chuckled. “No.” He simply responded, then broke into hysterics.

You were beyond furious at this point, as your eyes quickly darted to his chest, where the two rings on a string necklace hung. Quickly snatching the necklace, you secured it in the palm of your hand as he then started to bare his teeth.

You, then having a higher sense of pride, then said, “Tsk. Maybe this time you’ll beg for these two rings back. They seem so special to you, as you hold them so close to your heart.” You mocked him.

“Listen here, dipshit.” He growled out, “I don’t think you know how this works. You should be the one paying me for Boner, as well as for the trouble that you put me through.”

You then chuckled, mocking his tone, “No.” You then started fake laughing. “You damaged most of my property, incomparable to a pile of barely sentient bones.”

Quackity grabbed your collar in turn, and with a fiery red in his eye he slapped you across the face. “He was my everything, and you just mercilessly killed him.”

You both now holding each other's collars, and with a red mark across your cheek now, started sparring. You both didnt let go of each other’s collars, instead taking the closeness as an advantage.

You grab his hair that wasn’t inside the beanie, and yanked hard, bringing him to his knees. Yet, as he was still holding your collar, you got pulled down as well (not mentioning the fact that he grabbed onto your legs and pulled) and both of you started to try to grab anything to get back up, letting go of each other's collars. You got up first, finding his desk refuge as you lifted yourself up. Quackity, in turn, staggered up, yet he did not use his desk to lift himself up. He got himself up, then tripped on himself, falling down. You laughed at him as he staggered up again once more. Now, he was even more angry, grabbing his sword from his desk and he was looking back at you, with his sword in his hand.

You in turn, grabbed the pickaxe out of your inventory in an act of desperation, and he seemed to pause his actions for a moment as he stared at the pickaxe in a mix of anger, hate, and fear.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Quackity asked, eyes squinting at you.

“C’mon and fight. Or are you too scared?” You mocked, a smirk plaguing your face.

He growled at you, then starting to swing his sword, he grunted, “Fuck you.”

Your pickaxe and sword clashed together, and you two ended up in a position where the pickaxe and sword were stuck together, with your back facing the wall and Q in front of you.

You could do nothing but try and budge your pickaxe, which did nothing, on account of the fact that neither one of you wanted to let go as to give the other the advantage.

You stared at each other for a good while, slightly shifting, moving around to hope to escape from this, yet none of you could budge.

“Fuck you.” You quickly muttered out, hoping to beat him down with words.

“Go on and try.” He gave you a half-assed smirk.

You stared at him for another two seconds, letting him know about the fact that, you in fact, weren’t laughing at his joke. Finally, wanting to spite him, you closed the gap between you and him with a kiss.

“Jesus-” was all that you could feel from him saying it into your lips, although you could also feel a little smile on his lips.

You pulled away quickly, jokingly wiping your lips and he in turn jokingly spit out.

“We will talk about this later.” He said, before reconnecting with your lips.

—

SPRRY FOR THE BAD ENDING HBAHAHA i did most of this writing at night soooo sorry about that - i dud not read any of this ober so sorry about grammatical issues, i also had no idea and had to recieve help from a friend for the endinv fjriekejhr

#quackity x y/n #quackity x reader #please i dont write things like this i am so bad at it #quackity x you #quackity oneshot #??? no fucking clue what a oneshot is #digital footprint am i right #quackity imagines #Grey’s Holiday Exchange 2022 #i think thats the tag #revs writings

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arlana-likes-to-write · 1 year

Text

Healing Wounds and Souls

Summary: After her fight with Kingpin and the arrest of her mother, Kate Bishop wanted sleep, a shower, and pizza before her trip to Iowa to join his family to celebrate Christmas. But she did not expect to see the blonde-haired Black Widow sitting in her destroyed apartment.

Warning: None really, mentioned of Red Room, minor injuries, fluff

Word Count: 2.6K

Her body hurt. Kate was used to pushing her body to the extreme. Her entire life she trained for the next event; archery, fencing, karate, repeat. Repeat. Repeat. But none of that training prepared her for this. The physical pain of fighting against Kingpin and a Black Widow assassin. Also the emotional ordeal of having her mother arrested. Kate sighed, she wondered where Yelena ran off to after her fight with Clint. The archer opened the door to her still destroyed apartment. She needed to get a few things before joining Clint in Iowa for Christmas. “Kate Bishop.” She jumped at the familiar Russian accent but hissed in pain.

“Jesus Yelena,” Kate closed the door. “You are going to kill me one of these days.” The Black Widow was sitting on the window ledge, looking up at the night sky. She had a first aid kit out and her tactical suit still on. Even in the low light, she saw tears staining her cheeks. Yelena smirked.

“If I were to kill you,” Yelena said. “Heart failure wouldn’t be how I’d do it.” Kate chuckled, dropping her bow on the ground and rubbing her ribs. They were killing her.

“How would you kill me?” Kate asked, mostly joking but also curious. Yelena looked away from the sky and towards Kate. The air was sucked out of the archer’s lungs at how Yelena was looking at her. It was such a stark contrast when she was sitting at her table with a bowl of mac and cheese, threatening her to stay out of the way.

“That’s the thing I wouldn’t kill you.” She said. Oh. Kate wasn’t expecting that answer. “You're injured.”She said.

“It’s been a long night.” Yelena nodded.

“Do you want me to leave?” Kate shook her head.

“No, stay.” She wasn’t sure why she wanted Yelena to stay but it filled her with a sense of peace.

“Sit,” Yelena said. “I have to make sure you don’t die from your wounds. That would not be a cool way to die.” Kate rolled her eyes but walked over to the Russian and sat down in front of her. Being this close allowed Kate to see the fresh tears still in Yelena’s eyes. Clint didn’t tell her what went down between him and Yelena and for once Kate kept her mouth shut. She was just relieved that Yelena didn’t kill him. The Russian opened the first aid kill and pulled out some bandages, gauze, antiseptic spray, and an ice pack. “I didn’t leave you in this condition.” She said, after she was happy how she laid out the supplies in front of her. Kate thought it was cute.

“It wasn’t you.” Kate said, some of the bumps and bruises were from the Black Widow but her body didn’t hurt as bad after their fight. Kate hissed at the sting from the antiseptic spray as Yelena cleaned the cuts on her face. Yelena gently blew on the cut and it relieved some of the sting. “It was Kingpin.” Yelena’s hand stuttered.

“I’m impressed, Kate Bishop. Not many people walk away from facing him.”

“I am the world’s best archer.” Yelena smiled, rolling her eyes slightly. She continued in silence, cleaning the cuts on Kate’s face and banding the ones that needed it. Next was her hands, Yelena looked them over. Her hands were covered with callouses from years of training so Kate knew there was no real damage but she let the Russian check. “Why are you here, Yelena?” Kate asked after a moment of silence. The Black Widow didn’t answer, instead she inspected Kate’s ribs. Kate felt her body go warm as the closeness and the feeling of Yelena’s hands on her.

“They aren’t broken,” she said. “They are bruised.” Kate nodded as Yelena activated the ice pack and handed it to her. The archer took it and saw that Yelena's knuckles were bloody. Instead of placing the ice on her ribs she set it down and took Yelena’s hand in hers.

“Your turn.” She was surprised how soft Yelena’s hands were against her own. Kate applied some spray to a fresh piece of gauze and began to clean her knuckles. Yelena hissed and Kate mirrored the Black Widow’s action and blew on the cuts. She glanced up and saw the tears Yelena was trying to hold back fall down her cheeks. She didn’t draw attention to them and cleaned the wounds on her hand.

“I didn’t kill Barton.” The Russian whispered. Kate nodded, she wasn’t going to ask for more and just hoped that Yelena would open up to her. “They were friends.”

“She was the best shot he ever took.” Kate told her, remembering the story the older Hawkwye told her when she asked. The archer looked up and saw confusion etched on Yelena’s face. “Well technically the best shot he didn’t take.” She sighed, putting a bandage on a bad cut on Yelena’s hand. “Clint was sent to kill Natasha but he didn’t. Instead, he gave her a chance to walk away.” Kate checked her ribs next, they were fine so she cleaned up the used medical supplies.

“You didn’t take the shot.” Yelena said suddenly. Kate leaned back on the wall, placing the already arm ice on her ribs. “That night on the roof.” She remembered. She had the shot and she could have hurt or killed Yelena that night but she didn’t. There was a look in Yelena’s eyes that caused her to freeze. Her entire life she was conditioned to be the best and push everyone to the wide that got in her way. At that moment, Yelena was in her way. The Black Widow was watching her closely. Her green eyes were red and glossy from her tears.

“Why are you here, Yelena?” Kate asked again. Yelena looked back out the window.

“I had nowhere else to go.” Her voice cracked from her emotions and her accent was thick.

“I didn’t want to kill you,” Kate said. “A part of me hesitated to pull the arrow because like your sister all those years ago, you want a way out too.” Yelena laughed bitterly, shaking her head.

“This life,” she said. “Is all I know.” Kate didn’t know much about the training for Black Widow’s. When Natasha leaked all of the SHIELD’S secrets, the Red Room was among the documents. At the time Kate couldn’t stomach it so she skipped that section.

“Maybe it’s all you know because no one has given you a chance to do something else.” Kate moved back closer to Yelena and held out her hand. She looked at the archer’s outstretched hand. “You don’t have to fight anymore.” Kate whispered.

“What am I going to do then?” She asked, making no move to grab Kate’s hand but she kept it out.

“I’m not sure,” Kate answered honestly. “But if you like I’ll be there with you to find out.” With a shaky hand, Yelena took Kate’s.

“Why would you want to do that?” Yelena questioned. Kate stared at their connected hands. She began to draw circles on the back of Yelena’s hand with her thumb.

“Because I’m alone too.” She said. She knew she had Clint but the older archer had a family and was retired from this life. Kate was the reason he almost missed the holidays, she couldn’t pull him back in. “I’m trying to figure out what’s next for me too.” She helped Clint clean up her mess and faced a major player in the New York City underground but that didn’t guarantee her a title as an Avenger. With her mother in jail, Bishop Security was her’s to run when the police were done investigating. But did she want that? “I think figuring it out together is better than doing it alone.” Yelena was silent for a moment, her eyebrows scrunched together in concentration.

“You are very strange, Kate Bishop.” The archer laughed, throwing her head back.

“I’ve been called worse things.” A small smile formed on the Russian’s face. “Come with me to Clint’s for Christmas.” Yelena’s eyes went wide.

“Are you out of your mind? I just tried to kill the man and you think it’s a good idea to spend the holidays with him and his family.” Kate nodded. “I think Kingpin knocked some brain cells out of you.” The archer rolled her eyes.

“The relationship between Black Widows and Hawkeyes have been founded on trying to kill each other.” Kate stated. “You tried to kill me.” Yelena gasped.

“I did not try to kill you. I put you on a wire to-”

“To remove an obstacle.” Kate said, cutting her off with a laugh. “But I’m serious, join me. Please.” She did not want Yelena to spend Christmas alone after the night she had. She would drag the Black Widow, kicking and screaming, to Iowa if she had to. Yelena sighed.

“Fine, I’ll join you.”

Clint wasn’t surprised when Yelena was with Kate to join them on their journey to Iowa. He even pulled her into a quick hug as he wished her a Merry Christma. Kate did most of the talking but she did hear Yelena chuckle at a few jabs she threw at her mentor. Soon Clint was driving along the stone driveway to a two story white farmhouse. Kate glanced at Yelena through the mirror and watched as her body became tense. She looked at Kate and the archer gave her a smile. Clint parked the car and the sound of him opening and closing his door alerted the residence inside the house. The door for the farm house flew open and his children came running out, giving their father a hug. “Are you okay?” Kate asked.

“I don’t know.” Yelena said.

“I’m here, okay?” The archer said. “I’m here if you need anything.” Yelena nodded and they both got out of the car. Yelena had a hold of Lucky’s leash as Kate grabbed the Christmas presents for the kids.

“Kids, that is Kate and Yelena.” Clint introduced everyone. A young girl who Kate figured was Lila walked over to her.

“Here let me help.” She said.

“Oh thank you.” Kate gave her some of the boxes and she walked back into the house, followed by the oldest Barton. The youngest walked over to Yelena.

“I like your dog.” He said, reaching out to Lucky. The one eyed golden retriever sniffed his hand and allowed the young boy to pet his head.

“He's Kate’s dog.” Yelena corrected him. “His name is Lucky.” The young boy wrapped his arms around Lucky’s neck.

“I like his name.” He looked up at Yelena. “I like yours too. My name is Nathaniel.”

“Nathaniel.” The Black Widow said slowly. “I like it.” He smiled brightly.

“I’m named after my Auntie Nat.”

“Auntie Nat?” She questioned, looking up at Clint who was watching the interaction with a fond smile on his face. Kate grabbed the leash from Yelena as she returned her attention back to Nathaniel. “Your Auntie Nat was my sister.” Nathaniel gasped and threw his arms around Yelena’s waist. The Russian tensed up at the sudden contact.

“Does that make you my aunt too?” He asked.

“If you want me to be.” Nathaniel nodded.

“Come on,” Clint said. “We have presents to open.” The mention of presents caused Nathaniel to let go of Yelena and run back into the house. Kate smiled and watched Yelena wipe away a tear that fell down her cheek. The archer grabbed her hand. Yelena let out a shaky breath and squeezed Kate’s hand, answering a silent question that she was okay. Hand-in-hand they walked into the Barton home.

“I brought home some strays.” Kate heard Clint say to his wife. She laughed with a smile. Kate let go of Lucky’s leash and the dog ran into the living room to be with the Barton kids. Laura walked over to the young archer and Black Widow. She pulled Kate into a hug.

“Merry Christmas, sweetie.” She said. Kate’s body went tense at the small gesture. It had been so long since she’s gotten a hug like this.

“Merry Christmas.” Kate said back. The archer ended the hug and walked into the living room to join the others. She watched as Laura hugged Yelena, she must have whispered something in her ear because Yelena nodded. Kate smiled and got distracted by Nathaniel’s excitement as he began to open the presents. This was nice; weird, different, and something incredible new but Kate loved it.

Kate found Yelena upstairs in a spare bedroom. Clint invited her outside to burn the Ronin outfit and once it was nothing more than embers and smoke, Kate went back inside. Laura told her where to find Yelena. The door was open and she saw Yelena sitting on the edge of the bed with a photo strip in her hands. “Knock, knock, can I come in?” Kate asked. The Russian didn’t look up but she saw her nod her head. Kate walked in, closing the door slightly. She sat on the bed next to her and looked at the photo. It was half of a photo strip of two young girls smiling at the camera, one with blue short hair and the other was blonde.

“This was Natasha’s room when she stayed here,” Yelena said. She reached into her own pocket and pulled out the other half of the photo strip, connecting the ribbed edges. “I want to hate her for finding this and leaving me.” Kate wasn’t sure what she was referring to but she knew that Yelena was in pain.

“It’s okay to be angry with her,” Kate said. “Those feelings and emotions are valid.” Yelena looked at the archer.

“Do you hate your parents?” The Black Widow asked. Kate sighed, leaning back on her hands and looking up at the ceiling. That was a good question. After everything she learned about her parents and what they were involved in, did she hate them?

“I do,” Kate answered honestly. “They’ve hurt me and probably others.” She looked back at Yelena. “But a part of me still loves them. Those feelings can coexist.” Yelena sighed.

“Feelings are stupid.” Kate laughed as Yelena smiled.

“You are correct but they make us human and they are a reminder that we are alive.”

“And free.” Yelena added.

“Yeah and free.” She looked at Kate. She had the same look of vulnerability in her eyes as they cleaned each other’s wounds. The way Yelena was looking at her made her stomach flip like she was on a rollercoaster. God, Kate really wanted to kiss her but she fought that feeling. Yelena was going through a lot and she did not need to deal with that.

“Thank you, Kate Bishop.” Kate turned her head, mirroring the way a dog looked when they heard a sound they didn't fully understand. “You look like Lucky.” Yelena laughed. Kate rolled her eyes.

“Why are you thanking me?” She asked.

“You are giving me a chance to walk away.” Kate smiled, grabbing Yelena’s hand. She was beginning to enjoy the feeling of Yelena’s hand in hers.

“Black Widow and Hawkeye.” Kate whispered. “We were destined to be a part of each other’s lives.” Yelena smiled softly. The Black Widow leaned closer to Kate and pressed her lips softly against her cheek. Kate felt her entire face flush and Yelena chuckled.

“Merry Christmas, Kate Bishop.”

“Merry Christmas, Yelena-” She realized she had no idea what Yelena’s last name was.

“Belova.” She smiled.

“Belova.” Kate repeated. She liked the way it sounded. “Well, Merry Christmas Yelena Belova.”

____

Happy Holiday season everyone! This is my first Christmas one shot I plan to post this December and I hope you enjoy it. I do hope Marvel gives us more Yelena and Kate because they made to many similarities to Clint and Natasha for them to never see each other again.

Anyways! Enjoy. Much love. Arlana

#yelena belova x kate bishop #yelena belova imagine #kate bishop imagine #black widow fanfiction #black widow imagine #black widow one shot #hawkeye imagine #hawkeye one shot #hawkeye fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot #Marvel Holiday 2022 #yelena belova kate bishop #hawkeye kate bishop #kate bishop x yelena belova #kate x yelena #yelena x kate #yelena belova #Kate Bishop

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sophiathefallen · 1 year

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Absolutely delighted at the fact that in under 24 hours of having them, tumblr has figured out how to play Welcome To The Black Parade by MCR and Demons by Imagine Dragons on the dashboard bells

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ss10009 · 1 year

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[Accessibility Text] Q: What is happening with The Mediator Netflix series? A: There's good news and bad news about The Mediator. The bad news is, the people at Netflix who loved The Mediator were let go. The good news is, The Mediator film rights are now available once again! So I'm confident that, like Jesse, The Mediator film/series will live again.

#the mediator #the mediator movie #Meg cabot #this was just nestled away in the 2022 holiday post #like the world's biggest lump of coal #i'm trying to look on the bright side and imagine that it might have sucked #but i wanted it anyway

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blackpink-officials-blog · 1 year

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MERRY CHRISTMAS BLINKS 🎄🎄🎅🏻🎅🏻☃️☃️🎁🎁✨✨

#black pink #blackpink icons #blackpink christmas #merry christmas #merry chrismas 2022 #christmas #merry christmas and happy holidays #merry christmas blinks #merry christmas png #happy christmas blinks #blackpink instagram #blackpink imagines #blackpink updates #jennie blackpink #blackpink lisa #rose blackpink #blackpink jisoo

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bangtang-boys · 1 year

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Happy Christmas and happy holiday from BTS to ARMY 🎅🏻🎄🎁☃️✨

#bts icons #bts christmas packs #merry christmas army's #merry chrismas 2022 #happy christmas #christmas #bts christmas au #bts christmas #merry christmas happy holidays #happy holidays #merry christmas #bts army #bts members #bts imagines

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ivorydragoness44 · 1 year

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Imagine Bernard checking on you:

“Everything seems to be going beary well,” Santa smiled upon you and your fellow plush toy accessorizing elves.

“Thank you, Santa,” you all chimed off before he began to walk away.

“Keep up the good work.”

The fastest bow tie-er in the North, he had called you on more than one occasion. It was a skill that you took pride in over years of practice. If there was a toy or present in need of a bow, you nearly jumped at the opportunity. Christmas and making toys were everything to elves.

Stepping closer, Bernard leant over beside you. His warm breath tickled your ear. “Remember to pace yourself,” he said with quiet concern. “You know how you get when you rush.”

You gave him a smile, pausing your current work on an ultra plush bear. “I’ll be fine, Bernard, thank you.”

He gave a small nod, and before either of you could say more, you twisted in your seat. Nimbly reaching up, you gently pulled at Bernard’s necklace, centering it’s main charm with his shirt.

“Oh,” he stilled watching you, “thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, Bernard.”

~~~~ ~~~~

Thank you for reading~~

Reblogs are always appreciated

#bernard the elf #bernard imagine #bernard the elf imagine #holiday imagine 2022 #bernard the elf fanfic #bernard the elf fanfiction #bernard the elf insert reader #bernard the elf x reader #the santa clause #the santa clause fanfic #the santa clause imagine #ivorydragoness44 #holiday fanfic #christmas imagine #christmas fanfic

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cabinofimagines · 1 year

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Holi-days seven; Tight Knit

Hehe danny has had her reign, now I get to drop in again

Pairing: PLATONIC Connor, Hazel, Frank and Reyna x gn!reader

Warnings: None!

Words: 1.2k (oops)

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-Asnyox

You knew Klaus had offered to teach you and whomever else was interested to knit today. What you had not expected, was that he invited about three quarters of camp to learn, and that Connor had followed him around telling everyone about a ‘secret’ plan. As soon as you understood what Connor was planning, you laughed at his naivety.

This guy had either underestimated how hard knitting would be for a bunch of hyperactive demigods or overestimated the willpower of campers to pull of this prank. Although the latter would be the deciding factor in his plan, you supposed.

You sat at one of the tables, with your friends by your side. Sometimes you forget how big you friend group is, for even if not everyone showed up you easily filled a table solely with you friends. Frank and Hazel had each taken on of your sides and you were holding a staring competition with Reyna. It was not really a competition, but rather it was a ‘You made eye contact and now neither is looking away’. Normal people behaviour.

“I didn’t know you were interested in Knitting,” You stated, suspicion in your voice. Reyna smiled.

“I’ve always liked to learn how to knit, and I finally picked it up with the Hunters.” Her face turned a little bit softer, “It’s nice to make some warm socks when you spend this much time on your feet.”

“And you never made any for me?” You gasped and Reyna laughed.

“Who knows, maybe you’ll find some in your stocking.”

Conversation flowed easily as everyone waited for Klaus to take the reins. Eventually, after some Hermes kids came out and distributed knitting needles and yarn to everyone, Klaus coughed as he got everyone’s attention.

“Hello my little elves!” Klaus smiled, “Today I will try to teach you how to knit,” Suddenly Connor popped up behind him.

“And together we will knit a blanket that will cover the entire dining pavilion!” Connor yelled and cheers came from the tables around you, as you shot Reyna a confused look.

“Ah yes,” Klaus looked slightly surprised, “This will be a team effort, for sure. Anyways-” as Klaus explained how to start your knitting work, and with some help from Reyna, you got to knitting.

───────────

“This is harder than it looks,” Hazel stated as she stared intensely at her needle work, “I keep messing up the loops that I do.” You looked up from your work, gazing at Hazel’s handiwork. You noticed that her yarn ball was more like a yarn knot at this point.

“When did you yarn unroll?” You asked and Hazel sighed.

“I don’t know, but that is a problem for later.”

“I think I am getting the hang of it?” Frank mumbled from next to you, and as you looked over you saw that he had a decent square shape going. You let out a soft ‘wow’ as you looked at the mess in your hands. It was not the worst, but it was definitely not great either. You sighed as you looked around the Arts and Crafts building, noticing that quiet a few campers had left already. There were a few abandoned projects here and there, and you saw Klaus picking them up carefully and finishing them.

After another hour or so, Connor dejectedly walked up to your table.

“Please tell me you guys made a massive blanket together.” He pouted, and everyone at your table held up their little squares. Connor sighed, as he sat down next to Reyna, “No one said knitting was so slow!” he complained.

“Now, now, Connor, we still have a lot of little bits!” Klaus sat down next to Frank, dropping a pile of scraps on the table, “If I may, can I have your pieces? Then we can see what the effort of the camp made!” Klaus smiled, and you could have sworn his ears twitched. You handed him your needles and patch of knit work, which he quickly finished.

“And where is my favourite elf, Jason?” Klaus asked, a glint in his eyes, “or my second favourite, Percy?” Klaus started working on sowing the patches of knitwork together.

“Jason, I don’t know,” Connor started, as he looked with little hope at what Klaus was doing, “Percy said he was doing research or something.”

“Ah, Percy has seemed a little stressed lately,” Frank noted, “Hey Klaus can you teach me how to finish the knitting process?” Klaus nodded eagerly.

───────────

In the end, your ‘blanket to cover the dining hall’ ended up more the size of ‘blanket to cover some knees, maybe shoulders’. You were still impressed by the size of the blanket in the end, and more so at how aesthetically pleasing Klaus made the blanket in the end, with just the little knitted patches that everyone made. Connor seemed less happy with the outcome; his plans ruined.

“What do we do with this?” he complained, as Klaus put a simply yarn bow around the folded blanket.

“Maybe you can give it to someone?” Klaus got a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Someone who could use a little warmth from the campers?” Conner seemed deep in thought, before he looked up and spotted his target.

“You are right Klaus!” Connor stood up, grabbing the blanket, “Let’s give it to Chiron.” He smiled, and for once he seemed to not have anything up his sleeve. You watched as he walked up to Chiron, and gave the centaur the blanket.

As you were taking in the adorable sight of Chiron lowkey fawning over the blanket (and being showered by the campers in compliments for the blanket) you sighed a little. The holidays were almost over, and you were going to miss everyone who was around at camp. You were also regretting that you could not attend the new years party this year, and you were dreading even more to go to the party in your hometown. Someone had leaked you the information that a certain unwanted guest would attend, whom you did not want to face alone.

But that was a problem for another day. Right now, you were getting distracted by Percy, who was aggressively gesturing for you to come to him. When you reached him, he quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you to be away from the Arts and Crafts building.

“You must have noticed something off from Klaus.”

“I mean, nothing weird outside of the general child of Hermes behaviour.” You stated. Percy seemed unconvinced, but before he could say anything you shook your head “Perce, sometimes the best option is to just ignore other people’s behaviour if it bothers you.” You softly grabbed his hand and looked Percy in the eye “Klaus is a nice kid, so give him a shot, alright?”

“I see he has you in his grips too, (Y/n).” Percy stepped away, a determined glint in his eyes, “I will uncover the truth and expose him. I promise.” Percy swiftly turned around and started walking away. You could hear him murmur to himself as he clearly was making his way back to the Arts and Crafts building.

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sins-of-the-sea · 10 months

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And the answer is.....

Rashid. Rashid is the only one of the Seven who was never arrested.

The best part is that if you actually round up the Seven to charge them for actual crimes, Rashid would also have the most diverse rap sheet--the biggest being smuggling and contraband of goods forbidden into his part of the Ottoman Empire. Others include bribery, murder, accessory to murder, and other forms of corruption as a leader of his community. And let's not even mention actual haram acts he did like using blood money to pay zakat (or just not at all).

Quite honestly, Assad exiling his dad to leave home and never return is the TAMEST punishment Rashid would take for his multiple crimes in the name of making sure his family got the best of the best. But if you take the redemption route for Rashid, apparently exile is enough, as Rashid would eventually become fully remorseful and learn how to be a far better man with people he dearly loves. You can argue the agonizing years as a thrall to the Master is punishment enough.

Now it should be easy to guess who got arrested the most times, usually due to petty crimes like theft or burglary, attempted or not. I don't know Ming-era law at all, but he probably got his first official arrest at age 10 for theft. I should look into that, because China has a pretty interesting history of law enforcement. Otherwise, Ruixiong would have been an experienced bandit and escape artist by the time he met Rashid in Macau in 1619, when he was 19 years old.

#crime tw #[OOC]#as for the others #it depends on what crimes they committed #I thought maybe Phoebus never got arrested by naw there was the 2022 Winter Holiday lmao #but I would imagine he'd also get arrest in other times just for being in Guy and Rui's vicinity while doing other Himbo shenanigans #same for Giovanni #[About Rashid]#[About Ruixiong]

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hansols-yoda-boxers · 2 years

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Oct 8th [Sua + Hair Pulling]

[11:46] You let out a shaky breath, despite the toy not even touching you yet. It didn’t matter though, just meeting Bora’s eyes in the mirror had you biting your lip and arousal rushing to your already drenched core, so sensitive from her teasing touches and heavy kissing. She gave you a sweet smile, resting her head on your shoulder and her hands on your waist.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” She questioned.

“Y-Yes mistress,” you couldn’t manage to speak without stumbling over your words but it just seemed to amuse her.

“Are you sure?” She asked, squeezing your waist. “You have control over the toy, are you sure you can follow the rules for me?”

“I can, mistress,” you answered, squirming a little and pleading with her silently to give you permission to grab the vibrator and turn it. It was sitting in front of you on the bed, taunting you and your wide open legs and your dripping core, clenching around nothing each time you thought about it.

“Let’s see, pretty girl. Go ahead and turn it on.”

You wasted no time grabbing the toy and turning it on just as she told you. You met her gaze in the mirror, not touching the toy to your clit yet and waiting. The better you were the more she’d reward you but she never made it easy.

“Please, mistress,” you gave her your sweetest look.

“What do you want?” She mused.

“Please, can I use the toy?”

She made a show of looking as if she was mulling it over, no doubt enjoying how you squirming and watching her in the mirror. Finally she gave you a warm smile, letting her hand run lightly up your thigh.

“Yes, but only lightly. Just touch it to your clit for me.”

“Thank you, mistress.” The words rushed past your lips before you brought the toy to your clit and moaned, trying to do as she said and keeping it just touching yourself lightly. You squirmed more, already feeling good from the sensation and biting down on your lip.

Fingers curled into your hair and Bora yanked back roughly, causing you to gasp and your mouth to fall open. She pushed the toy away from your clit and you caught your breath as she nipped at your ear.

“Are you allowed to muffle your moans, pretty girl?” she murmured in your ear.

“N-No, sorry mistress,” you whimpered.

“Good girl,” She released your hair. “Bring that toy back to your clit for me, just like before.”

You did as she said, whimpering at the sensation as pleasure shot through you. You did your best to stay still as you tilted your head back down, meeting your own needy gaze in the mirror. You did your best to keep your hips still and be good for her despite how quickly your core was starting to tighten.

“Stop,” she hummed. You exhaled heavily as you moved the toy away from your clit again. You watched her, trying to convey how needy you were getting and unable to stop from squirming and moving your hips as if the air would give you friction. You felt the hand tighten in your hair again and Bora tilted your head back.

“Poor thing, do you want more?” she cooed.

“Yes, please mistress.” You whined.

“One more time, nice and light and no moving it.”

You nodded quickly, bringing the toy back to your clit and sucking in a sharp breath. You pressed your lips together only for Bora to pull your hair sharply.

“I want to hear you,” she growled. Her voice and the way she pulled your hair made you gasp and let out a moan. The pleasure coursing through you from the little buzzing toy was only made more intense by her hold on your hair and her voice in your ear. You felt your thighs trembling as your eyes fell shut and your breaths started to come out fast.

“M-Mistress. Please can I-”

“Not yet,” she hummed.

“Please,” you breathed, legs shaking with the effort of holding them open for her. You cried out as she pulled on your hair again.

“I said, not yet.”

You shook your head. “I-I can’t. I-”

Bora was quick to grab the toy from you, pulling it away from your core and tutting as you whined in disappointment.

“Come on, pretty girl,” she murmured. “You know I can’t let you cum that easily.”

#okaiie #yes i am late #but tomorrow is a holiday #so i will spin the wheel and start the next one #if its easy ill finish it #timestamp #dreamcatcher imagines #dreamcatcher smut #sua imagines #sua smut #bora imagines #bora smut #kim bora smut #kinktober 2022

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thenumberfives · 1 year

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#merry christmas #happy holidays #christmas #holidays #grinch #how the grinch stole christmas #universal pictures #imagine entertainment #video #meme #shitpost #🗿#advent by fives 2022

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caroleditosti · 1 year

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New York Botanical Garden Holiday Train Show and GLOW 2022-2023

Don't miss out. the NYBG Holiday Train Show and GLOW are opening this evening.

31st NYBG Holiday Train Show and GLOW (Carole Di Tosti) 31st NYBG Holiday Train Show and GLOW (Carole Di Tosti) 31st NYBG Holiday Train Show and GLOW, Macy’s replica (Carole Di Tosti) It’s the 31st year of the NYBG Holiday Train Show starring New York’s architectural beauties in miniature from all the boroughs in New York City to Westchester County and beyond to upstate New York. Returning for…

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#Applied Imagination #Enid A. Haupt Conservatory #Laura Busse Dolan #New York Botanical Garden Holiday Train Show 2022 #NYBG

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lilacmingi · 1 month

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HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Hufflepuff!Yunho x Hufflepuff!fem reader

Word count: 4,968

Note: Seems kinda silly sharing this one considering its March lol but when I was writing these Hogwarts AU imagines, they were being posted around November/December 2022 and I felt bad for not having anything festive written so I made this one take place around Christmastime to add some festive flair. Hopefully you guys can still enjoy it, even in March haha

"You need to dress warmly, Y/n. It's getting colder these days." Yunho tugged your scarf around your neck, making sure you were all bundled up.

You merely chuckled, amused at how much he cares for you.

"I'll be fine." You assured him.

"We have to walk all the way to the greenhouse for herbology. You should stay warm."

You gave him a reluctant smile, allowing him to adjust your scarf to where it would cover your chin.

"Okay." He gave a small nod of approval before linking arms with you. "Let's go. Don't wanna be late."

Leaving the warm corridors of the school, you stepped out into the chilly air. It was nearing the end of autumn and would soon be winter, though based on the bitter temperature outside it felt like the season had already arrived. You and your fellow housemate trekked across the school grounds, stepping over leaves that had long fallen off the trees, their color now a dull brown. The holidays were just around the corner and Hogwarts had rolled out the Christmas decorations, decking the entire school out in holiday cheer, the colorful array of twinkling ornaments and other baubles giving the castle a cozy feel. The Great Hall was the most beautiful with large Christmas trees throughout the room, holly and ribbons hanging along the ceiling, all topped off with white snow falling from above, the magical icy clusters not feeling cold at all.

The greenhouse came into view, you and Yunho hurrying over desperate to get inside and out of the chilly air.

"Good afternoon." Professor Sprout greeted you with her usual warm smile, her jovial personality shining through as always.

"Afternoon." You greeted, making your way further into the greenhouse, taking your place at the long table that stretched along the length of the greenhouse.

You and Yunho began unpacking your supplies, your fingers brushing against his by accident.

"Your hands are freezing." He commented, grabbing them with his larger ones.

A faint heat creeped onto your cheeks as he squeezed your icy palms between his, warming them a little. You were so focused on him, you didn't notice the other students filing in the greenhouse, preparing for class.

"Alright. Now that everyone's here let's get started." Professor Sprout spoke up, causing Yunho to release your hands.

You exchanged sheepish glances before the both of you turned your eyes away out of embarrassment.

"Since Christmas is approaching, I thought it would be fit for us to study mistletoe. As you all know, this parasitic plant is used for decoration, but you can also use it for antidotes for the forgetfulness potion and common poisons."

"Ha. Mistletoe." You chuckled softly. "How festive."

Professor Sprout proceeded to explain more facts about the plant, allowing everyone to examine the white berries on the herbage, cutting them open and grinding them for potions.

The greenhouse, though slightly warmer than the chilly outdoor air, didn't offer much heat for your cold fingertips. Suddenly you missed the warmth of Yunho's hands, wishing he could hold them one more time.

Professor Sprout filled the silence in the greenhouse by giving a brief history lesson on mistletoe, talking about how it was used as a holiday decoration in the 1700s, then she proceeded explain how wizards used it for potions, though at that point you started zoning out.

Her voice became mere background noise as your eyes lingered on Yunho, who was closely examining the leaves on his plant which was held between his slender fingers.

By some miracle, you managed to pull it together long enough to make it through class.

You rubbed your hands together on the trek back to the school, tugging your scarf up to cover your nose and shield it from the chilly gusts of wind that fiercely hit your cheeks.

Once back inside Hogwarts, you let the heat from the torches lining the hall to warm you up a little. Yunho noticed the way you rubbed your hands together, wiggling your fingers around a bit.

"Here." Yunho held his hands out to you palms up.

You placed your smaller hands in his and allowed him to warm them the best he could, though his fingers were pretty cold as well, but they were warmer than yours. Plus, you can't possibly pass up the opportunity to have his hands holding onto yours.

You chuckled softly at Yunho's appearance, noticing a tint of pink on the tip of his nose.

"What?" He asked amusedly.

"Your nose is pink."

"It's freezing too. Wanna feel it?" He teased, leaning in closely preparing to press his nose against your cheek. You were quick to pull away, laughing at him.

"Come on. Let's go to the dining hall and see if we can get some hot chocolate before our next class." He stated.

"That would be fantastic."

The both of you went straight to the Great Hall where thankfully you were able to get a hot beverage to warm you up, the drink doing wonders for you.

"This was a good call." You sighed contently, grateful that your friend had suggested the idea. "I needed something that would warm me up quickly."

He hummed in agreement, his face covered by the mug as he gulped down the chocolate beverage. Once he set the cup down, a small amount of whipped cream dotted the tip of his nose as well as his top lip, the sight making you giggle.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" He asked, knowing there was whipped topping on him.

"Come here." You beckoned, grabbing a napkin and cleaning his face.

Yunho's heart fluttered at your simple yet very effective actions. His eyes lingered on your face, taking in all your beautiful details, from your lashes to your soft-looking lips, his mind beginning to wander as he imagined what it would feel like to kiss them.

"Yunho?"

He blinked himself from his daze, humming in response.

"You zoned out. I asked if you were ready to go. We've got just enough time to get to class."

"Oh. Yeah I'm ready."

It was early morning, right around breakfast time and you were sat in front of the fireplace in the Hufflepuff common room with a letter in your hands and a heavy feeling in your chest.

The sound of feet shuffling along the floor above could be heard over the crackling fire before you, Yunho's voice following after.

"Oh, you got something from your parents?" He observed.

"Yeah." You sighed as he descended the stairs, taking a seat beside you.

"Must've been important if it was delivered straight to the dormitory."

"It was."

Based on your discouraged tone and small frown, whatever news you got wasn't good.

"What's wrong?"

"It's a letter from my parents. They work for the Ministry of Magic so they're really busy and it seems they're not going to be home much. Looks like I'm going to be staying here for Christmas."

Yunho frowned. He hated seeing you upset, even more so he hated that you would be stuck at Hogwarts over Christmas break instead of spending it with your family.

"Come here." He beckoned softly, pulling you into a hug, which you happily accepted.

His hugs were always the best. He was bigger than you, so being in his embrace always felt nice, warm, even safe. You've always joked that his hugs were magical because they always seemed to melt your problems away whenever you were upset about something.

Yunho rubbed your back soothingly, allowing you to stay in his arms for as long as you needed.

If you were forced to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas break, he would stay with you.

Or maybe...

He let out a sudden gasp as a lightbulb went off in his head, making him pull back.

"Why don't you spend Christmas with me and my family?"

You took in a quick breath at his sudden proposition, looking at him with a shocked expression. At your response, or lack thereof, Yunho continued.

"You can send an owl back to your parents and let them know you're going to spend Christmas with me."

You continued to sit there, your mind processing everything.

Spending Christmas with Yunho?

The idea sounded great, honestly. You'd be able to spend the entire break with your crush. What more could you ask for?

Judging by the hopeful expression on his face and the expectant gleam in his eyes, he really wanted you to accept his offer, so you did.

When Christmas break rolled around, you found yourself boarding the Hogwarts Express with Yunho and a suitcase of clothes and other necessities for your visit.

The both of you made your way into one of the roomettes, sliding the door closed behind you before moving to sit on one of the benches.

"Sit next to me, Y/n." Yunho patted the spot next to him.

Softly smiling, you moved across to Yunho's bench, seating yourself beside him.

"I haven't seen your parents in years." You commented.

"I'm sure they're excited to see you, especially mom. She asks about you a lot."

"She does?"

He nodded.

The train departed from the station a few minutes later, rolling into motion. You watched as the school got smaller and smaller the further away you got. Your heart started to beat a little faster at the thought of being with Yunho for two weeks at his home.

The snack trolley rolled by not too long into the ride making the Hufflepuff beside you perk up, an excited gasp leaving him.

"Y/n, do you want something?" He asked.

"Yes, please."

Yunho asked the lady pushing the cart for your favorite candy along with some of his favorites before she went on to the next roomette. It didn't take long at all for the both of you to tear into the sweets, enjoying them as you watched the trees and valleys pass by.

An hour into the train ride, you felt your eyelids begin to droop as a feeling of drowsiness slowly washed over you. Not wanting to fall asleep, you turned your attention to the view out the window and started watching the scenery, a vast field with mountains in the distance, each one a different size. Unfortunately, that didn't do any good and you ended up allowing yourself to rest your eyes for a moment, which of course resulted in you falling asleep.

Yunho's gaze was glued to the landscape outside when he felt a weight on his shoulder. Upon glancing over, he found you sound asleep, your body slumped over on him, head resting on his shoulder.

A soft smile of adoration tugged at his lips as he allowed his gaze to linger on you for a few moments, taking in your features up close. It was only when you stirred slightly that he averted his gaze back to the view outside, his cheeks slightly warm.

When he didn’t feel you move, he peeked over at you once more as soft breaths pushed past your slightly parted lips.

"Y/n. We're here."

You squeezed your eyes shut tighter, nuzzling your face into whatever you were resting on.

A deep chuckle sounded afterwards making you peel your eyes open.

Yunho was gazing down at you, eyes gleaming with amusement. It was then that you realized you'd fallen asleep on him, your head resting on his chest. This realization caused you to push yourself off him in a rush.

He only laughed, standing up from his seat.

"I'm sorry." You apologized.

"You seemed to be sleeping well, so I didn't wake you." He responded, offering you his hand. "Come on."

After a short taxi ride, you arrived at your destination, welcomed by strings of beautiful multicolored lights strung along the eaves of the house, the sight giving you a warm feeling in your chest.

You stepped into Yunho's cozy abode, the warmth from inside brushing against your cool cheeks, the smell of gingerbread and cinnamon reaching your senses.

"Come in, come in." Yunho's mom beckoned, ushering both of you inside. "It's freezing out."

Christmas music played softly throughout the home as you removed your scarf, your eyes roaming the house, taking in your surroundings. The feeling of someone tugging on your coat grabbed your attention, it was Yunho. You thanked him quietly, shrugging off the thick jacket and allowing him to hang it on the coat rack by the door.

"My Yunho, come here." His mom cooed, pulling him into a tight hug. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too, mom."

After pulling away, she turned to you with a warm smile. "Y/n."

"Hello." You greeted.

"I haven't seen you since you and Yunho were in fourth year." She gushed. "You've grown into such a beautiful young lady."

You muttered a shy thank you before she escorted the both of you into the living room, going on about how excited she was that you'd be joining them during Christmas break and how she had prepared snacks for your arrival. Sitting on the coffee table in the living room was a plate of small sandwiches, crackers, and sliced fruit along with two glasses of water.

"Sorry. She gets enthusiastic when we have guests." Yunho murmured, cheeks tinged pink.

"It's fine. It's actually really nice. I missed her hospitality."

Just then, the front door swung open and Yunho's father walked in, shrugging off his jacket.

"Are they here yet?" He inquired before glancing into the living room where you and Yunho were seated on the couch. "Ah. I missed the welcome party."

"We just got in." Yunho informed him. "You didn't miss much."

"Good, good." His father nodded, making his way over to greet both of you, asking how classes were and how you'd been—just the usual small talk. He then grabbed one of the tiny sandwiches Yunho's mom had made.

At that moment, she entered the room and caught him in the act, immediately scolding him.

"Those are for Y/n and Yunho."

"Alright. Sorry." He chuckled, heading towards the kitchen.

"Y/n, why don't I take your bags to your room?" Yunho's mom offered.

"Oh, you don't have to do that."

"No, no, I insist. You're our guest."

You didn't have time to protest as she grabbed your bag as well as Yunho's and left the room.

After resting for a moment and finishing the finger foods that were prepared, Yunho's mom offered to show you where you'd be sleeping during your visit. Yunho wanted to unpack his things, so he got up and followed you and his mom down the hall, not expecting her to come to a stop at his bedroom.

"You'll have to share with Yunho. I hope you don't mind." She mentioned, opening the bedroom door. "Don't worry, though. I've set up a mattress on the floor so everything should be fine."

"I thought we had a spare bedroom." Yunho spoke up hastily.

"Oh, I've been using it as a storage room."

Yunho's face got hot at the thought of sharing a room with you, but at the same time it was a dream come true. Back at Hogwarts the boys and girls dorms are separated; the girls' dormitory is charmed so no boys can enter, though it's not the same for the boys' dorm, which is odd—but you've never stayed overnight with him before, even at school, so this would be a whole new experience.

Your palms started to get a bit sweaty as you took in the information you were just given, your slightly wide eyes staring at the sight before you. Alongside Yunho's bed was a small, inflatable mattress with a few blankets and pillows on it. While it did look comfortable, it was directly beside the place where Yunho slept. Judging by the giddiness in his mom's voice, she was more than okay with the both of you sharing a room.

"Well, I'll let you two get settled." She spoke up and excused herself.

As soon as she was out of the room, Yunho's head dropped as he let out a sigh.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine." You waved him off.

You and Yunho have been friends for years, sharing a room shouldn't be weird... it only feels that way because of your feelings for him.

"I'm gonna unpack. You can make yourself comfortable."

Yunho moved across the room to his bed where his suitcase laid, unzipping the beg before removing items from it. You started to do the same, taking a seat on the blow up mattress in the floor, taking out your toiletry bag.

"You can put that in the bathroom across the hall." Yunho mentioned. "As for clothes, you can leave them in your suitcase or I can clean out a drawer for you to store them in."

"It's fine. I can just leave them in here." You responded, not wanting Yunho to go to the extra trouble.

Once settled, the both of you were called into the kitchen to have dinner, which smelled so good. It had been a while since you had a home-cooked meal. Though, Hogwarts had exceptional food, there's something different about having something made at home.

"You really went all out." You commented, your mouth watering at the spread before you.

"Of course. It's Christmas, plus we have a special guest. It's the least I could do." Yunho's mom smiled warmly, pouring everyone a drink.

After a nice meal, you spent the rest of the afternoon watching TV with Yunho and his parents. Turns out they found amusement in muggle television programs and enjoyed watching them. You unexpectedly got hooked on a particular show, the ups and downs of the plot pulling you in immediately.

After watching a few episodes, you and Yunho decided to get ready for bed and settle in for the night.

You watched in mild amusement as Yunho arranged his pillows in a particular order, one lying flat in the middle and one propped up on the bed frame on either side. A chuckle slipped from you by accident causing the tall boy to turn, eyeing you.

"Sorry." You apologized. "I didn't know you had a system going."

"I do. My bed fits me well so I arrange my pillows like this, but in beds that are shorter where my feet stick out, I arrange them like this." He began shuffling the pillows around, moving the ones that were resting on the bed frame flat on the mattress lying vertically, giving him somewhat of a barrier on either side of his main pillow.

"I have to do this at Hogwarts since the beds are smaller." He mentioned.

It may be silly, but his specific pillow arrangements were extremely endearing to you. The way he had a whole system figured out based on the size of the bed was too cute.

He didn't seem to notice your love-filled gaze as he fluffed his main pillow, shimmying underneath the covers.

"Are you settled in?" He asked.

"Mhm." You hummed.

Yunho raised his wand in the air, using it to turn the lights out before snuggling down into his bed.

"Goodnight, Y/n."

"Goodnight, Yunho."

Getting to sleep proved to be a bit harder than you had originally thought. You were hyperaware of Yunho sleeping so close to you and that prevented you from getting relaxed enough to rest.

It's not a big deal, Y/n. You told yourself. Yunho is your best friend. You've known him for years. There's no reason to be nervous.

Minutes passed and you tried different positions, lying on your back, your left side, then your right side. Nothing was working.

Movement on the bed caught your attention as Yunho's head popped up, peeking down at you.

"If you're not comfortable, we can switch spots." He offered. "If it's me you're uncomfortable with I can sleep on the couch and you can have my bed."

The thought of sleeping in Yunho's bed under sheets that probably smelled like him drove you crazy, but the inflatable mattress was just fine, plus you didn't want to take Yunho's bed from him.

"I'm good." You assured him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. This is fine."

"Well, the offer is still there if you change your mind."

You murmured a thank you before rolling over, finally getting comfortable enough to go to sleep.

You woke up the next morning to Yunho shaking you awake.

"What is it?" You groaned.

"Get up. Hurry!" He pulled you to your feet, your knees nearly buckling, not used to all the sudden movement right after waking up.

Yunho wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you downstairs to the living room window.

"Check it out." Yunho gawked as he gazed out the glass pane.

"Wow." You gaped at the amount of snow that had blanketed the front lawn, the sight instantly waking you up.

"Oh, how pretty." Yunho's mom marveled. "You two should go outside and enjoy it."

The both of you exchanged glances, but before either of you could speak, Yunho's mom did.

"Go on." She gently ushered the both of you towards your room, telling you to bundle up. "I'll start on breakfast and you two go have some fun."

You had no choice but to do as she asked, going right back to Yunho's room.

"I'm so glad I packed warm clothes." You commented, pulling out a sweater and thick pants.

After layering up and putting on your coat and house scarf, you stepped outside hearing the many inches of snow crunch beneath your boots.

"That's one way to wake you up in the mornings." Yunho chuckled, his breaths coming out in puffs due to the frigid air.

"That's for sure." You shivered slightly, the icy weather flushing out the last remnants of sleep from your body.

"Come on." Yunho's gloved hand grabbed yours, tugging you out into the yard. "We should build a snowman."

"With all this snow, we could built three snowmen."

Yunho retrieved his wand from the inside of his jacket with a smirk. "You wanna try it?"

A knowing grin spread across your face as you pulled out your wand. "Let's do it."

With a simple locomotion charm, the both of you had large spheres of snow rolling across the lawn, getting bigger and bigger.

"Bring that one over here." Yunho pointed. "We'll use that for the base."

You nodded, moving your snowball to its designated spot as Yunho stacked his on top, using his wand to place the last and smallest sphere on top. In no time, you had three perfect snowmen built in front of the house.

Using your wands, the both of you gathered sticks and rocks to use for the arms and face for each snowman, placing them accordingly.

"These looks great." You beamed. "It's been so long since I've done this. I feel like a kid again."

"Me too." He huffed out a laugh. "You think breakfast is ready?"

"I hope so. I'm starving."

"Come on." Yunho held out his hand. "Let's go."

Later that night, the air inside the house was cooler than normal thanks to the piles of snow outside. The double layer of blankets wasn't doing much to keep you warm, no matter how much you curled up or how high they were bunched around your neck.

"Are you cold?" Yunho asked.

You assumed he was asleep, so his voice startled you a bit.

"Just a little." You responded.

"Would you like to sleep up here? It's warmer when you're not close to the floor."

"I don't know. You've got that pillow fort up there, I don't think there's any room for me." You teased.

"I can always make room."

You were so desperate to get warm and Yunho's offer was very appealing, so you agreed.

Yunho shuffled around, adjusting his pillows as you got up off the inflatable mattress and joined him in the bed, which was noticeably warmer than your makeshift one on the floor.

You let out a content sigh, tugging the covers up over you.

"Better?" Yunho asked.

"Much."

At this point, the fact that you were sharing a bed with Yunho didn't phase you, in fact, it was the last thing on your mind. You were just grateful to be warm. Yunho shuffled a bit, giving you some extra space before rolling onto his side, his back facing you.

"This is so much nicer than that air mattress." You commented blissfully.

"I imagine it is."

"You don't have to be so far away." You told him, noticing the distance between the both of you.

"I just wanna make sure you're comfortable."

"I am. Come on." You tugged at the back of his pajama top, making him scoot towards you.

He kept his back facing you, too nervous to turn around. Yunho felt bad that you were cold and simply wanted to help out, but now that you were right beside him, things were starting to sink in.

"Goodnight." You murmured sleepily.

"Goodnight."

It was only when he was sure you were asleep that he turned around. Your cheek was squished against the pillow as small snores moved past your parted lips. His hand reached out towards your face, his slender fingers barely ghosting over your cheek. Yunho found himself unconsciously moving forward, his gaze focused on your lips. Before he could get too close, he came to his senses and pulled away, choosing to go to sleep.

It was finally Christmas Eve and things were in full swing at the Jeong household. Yunho's dad has just placed extra logs in the fireplace while his mom laid out all the sweet treats she had baked, going on about playing some board games later. Presents had been wrapped and placed neatly underneath the tree, each present with a different decorative wrapping.

"There's supposed to be some muggle

Christmas specials on tonight." Yunho's dad mentioned. "We should watch some."

"That'll be fun." You agreed.

"Oh, darn." You heard Yunho's mom mutter.

"Is everything okay?" You inquired, poking your head into the kitchen.

"I'm out of eggs." She glanced at the clock on the wall. "The store closes in half an hour. I need to go."

You and Yunho watched from the living room doorway as she hurriedly slipped on her coat, calling for his dad to come with her.

"You two will be alright staying here by yourselves for a little while, right?"

You both nodded.

With that, she pulled out her wand, both she and Yunho's dad apparating in the blink of an eye.

"I can't wait to get my apparition license." You commented.

"Me too. It'll be so convenient." Yunho agreed.

Letting out a sigh, you turned to face him.

"So, what should we do?"

Your question went unheard and unanswered by Yunho who was more occupied with something above you.

"Ah." Yunho glanced up with rosy cheeks.

Following his gaze, you spotted a small bundle of mistletoe hanging from the top of the doorframe, sucking in a deep breath at the sight.

"I'm sorry." He muttered embarrassedly. "My mom must've put that there."

The tips of his ears were a deep shade of pink while his cheeks were almost matching.

"It's okay." You shrugged it off, acting as if it wasn't a big deal to help Yunho feel a little more at ease even though you were internally freaking out just like he was.

Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you weighed your options. Either you could walk away and pretend this didn't happen, noting to avoid the mistletoe for the rest of your visit, or you could try and kiss Yunho and see what happens.

Before you could make a decision, he started to lean in closer, your breath catching in your throat.

Yunho's lips met yours, pressing softly as if to test the waters. Though there wasn't much force or pressure to the kiss, you could feel the pliant softness of his lips as they dragged slowly against yours before he pulled away, the lack of contact leaving you wanting more. Without hesitation, you leaned forward, reconnecting your lips. The action clearly caught Yunho off guard but he was quick to respond, his arms sliding around your waist pulling you into his broad chest.

Your mind clouded over immediately, the feeling of his mouth on yours was almost too much to handle, but still you wanted more.

You got your wish, because it was at that moment Yunho stepped forward, pressing your back against the frame of the walkway as he began kissing you more feverishly.

Your fingers found purchase in his dark tresses, tugging at his hair. He let out a grunt in response, pressing closer to you.

"Yunho." You murmured against his lips.

He pulled away for a moment, gazing drunkenly at you with half-lidded eyes.

"I like you a lot." You confessed breathlessly. "I have for along time."

"Me too." He sighed, leaning in to capture your lips with his once again.

Your leg wrapped around his torso, your fingers grabbing at the fabric of his sweater.

Yunho pulled away again, making you frown slightly at the loss of contact.

"You're so pretty." He stroked your cheek.

Your eyelids fluttered closed as you sighed out his name.

"I'm not sure how long your mom will be gone, maybe we should go somewhere else." You suggested.

"Say no more." Yunho began tugging you along through the living room and down the hallway to his bedroom.

The both of you collapsed onto his bed with a grunt.

"I think this was my mom's plan all along." He admitted.

"Me too. Maybe we should thank her." You chuckled.

"Maybe we should." He grinned, diving in for another breathtaking kiss.

Hongjoong ⟡ Seonghwa ⟡ Yeosang ⟡ San ⟡ Mingi ⟡ Wooyoung ⟡ Jongho

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