#best place to sell wedding rings

[selldiamond]

As exciting as it sounds, it comes with a considerable number of risks of things going completely south. All that grand gesture seems to be futile after all, and you end up getting a hole in your pocket with that proposal and ring you planned for.

[sellyourdiamond]

Selling an Old Wedding Ring can be a bittersweet experience. It may hold sentimental value, but if you no longer wear it can be a good idea to let it go. You can sell it to a jewellery store, or online marketplace, but it's important to get it appraised first to ensure you're getting a fair price.

[webuydiamond1]

Explore key factors to consider before selling your wedding ring, including value, market trends, and sentimental impact.

[buymydiamond]

Sell Your Gold and Diamond Jewellery for Cash in London UK

Want to Sell Your Jewellery in london? Our reliable website is offering the highest prices for those who want to sell my gold jewellery and diamond products as well. best place to sell jewellery we will offer you the highest cash value. Get Instant cash for gold jewellery today. Hassle free process at expert appraisals in the very heart of London, UK.

[webuydiamond]

5 Factors That Affect Diamond Ring Value

Learn the top 5 factors that affect diamond ring value, from the 4Cs to market trends, and get tips on successfully selling your wedding ring online or locally in the UK.

Read More: https://www.hituponviews.com/5-factors-that-affect-diamond-ring-value/

[holylulusworld]

A different kind of Valentine

Summary: Your fiancé breaks your heart on Valentine’s Day out of all days.

Pairing: former!(any male character) x fem!Reader, Mafia!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, break-up, mentions/implied cheating, making out with a stranger, language, drinking, tipsy reader, a little fluff

Promises shouldn’t be broken.

Promises are meant to be kept. Right?

Love should be strong and unbreakable. If you swear to someone that you love and adore them, you cannot take it back so easily.

How could your fiancé take the words he whispered lovingly not months ago back?

“I can’t do this anymore,” he replied coolly when you asked why his suitcases were standing in the hallways. You believed he must go on yet another business trip.

That he wants to leave you never crossed your mind.

How foolish of you to believe that he wants to stay and keep his promises.

Shell-shocked you watched him grab your hand to slide his grandmother’s ring off of your finger.

You couldn’t think, speak, or even whimper. All you saw was the man you loved turn his back on you.

He stuffed the ring into his pocket, murmuring someone else’s name under his breath. You knew the name. Once in a while, he mentioned his assistant.

Of course, he had to turn your breakup into a cliché. He had to bang his secretary and leave you for a younger model.

If not for the tears running down your face, and the heaviness in your heart, you’d laugh at the fucked-up situation. It felt like you ended up in a bad rom-com slash comedy movie. The only difference was people weren’t laughing at the bad joke your life turned into.

“You can’t be serious,” oh, you finally found your voice. “Why are you doing this? Did you get bored? Is it the wedding? We could’ve talked things out.”

“That’s not it.” He grunted in your direction.

“Is she prettier? Better in bed,” you got angrier and louder. “Does she like it up her ass? Is it that?” You threw the next best things at him, making a scene. “What is it? Huh? Is her cunt squeezing you tighter?”

“You’re just not it!” He bit back and threw his hands up in surrender. “Can you not do this right now? How about you don’t throw a tantrum? People break up all the time!”

“Five years and that’s all I get?” You yelled. “I deserve better than a lame excuse! I want to know what happened to us!”

“I love her because I don’t love you anymore!” He yelled back, making you flinch at his outburst. “It’s not only that the sex is better. She’s all I ever wanted in a woman. You got too comfortable and want to cuddle on the sofa instead of going out and blowing me off behind a bar.”

“What?” You huffed. “I was the one trying to drag you off the couch! You only ever went out with your buddies.” He ignored your tears, and that your voice cracked. “I guess this never mattered. You had to fulfill the cliché. So, go ahead. We will see if she can make you happy.”

You stormed toward the door, blindly grabbing your keys and phone. It was impossible to stand there, staring at the gifts you placed on the coffee table in the living room.

“If you are still here when I come back, I’ll stab you right in the face,” you looked over your shoulder at the man who used to be your moon and stars. “If you touch my shit, you are a dead man. I will find you and your whore and turn you into dog food.”

“Another one,” you slammed the glass down onto the bar counter. “Make it a double.” You placed fifty bucks onto the empty glass. “No, give me the bottle. I think I’ll drink it at home.”

“We don’t sell the bottle for you to take it home,” the bartender gruffly replied.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You glared at the burly guy. “I can drink the whole bottle at the bar, but I can’t pay for it and take it home?” Quirking a brow, you look at the man.

“House rules.”

“Fuck this,” you grabbed the fifty bucks and stuffed the money into your bra. “I’ll get more at the next liquor store. Fuck you, and all of you.”

“All of us?” The bartender asked with amusement.

You glared at him and bared your teeth.

“Assholes with a ding-dong between their legs. You are all the same. Useless and worthless…”

Storming out of the bar, you huffed again. “Fuck Valentine’s Day.” You muttered and walked away, almost running a guy over.

“Hey, watch your step, doll,” the guy snickered when you threw your clutch at him. “Ouch, what do you think you are doing?” The man caught your clutch just in time.

“Fuck you too!” You poked two fingers into his chest. “You are no better than the bartender and my lovely fiancé. All of you are useless and have a limp dick. No man is worth my time.”

You snatched the clutch out of the man’s hands. “Language, lady,” he said, his voice now dangerously low. “If you don’t watch your tongue, someone might teach you some manners.”

“Oh, and you are that kind of man,” you slapped him across the face with your clutch. “Who do you think you are?” Usually, you wouldn’t attack a stranger in the dead of the night, but you were a little tipsy, and still mad because of the events of the day. “Threatening a woman.”

“Sweet cheeks,” he said while rubbing his face. It was still red from the slap, and he considered his next step. “I wouldn’t dare to raise my hand against you.” The man stepped closer to grab your clutch. “I said—” He grabbed you by your throat and slammed you against the wall, “I’ll teach you a lesson.”

“I’ll scream,” your heart began to race. Maybe you messed with the wrong guy. “Get off me.”

“Yeah, you will scream,” he smirked darkly and leaned closer to whisper in your ear. “I’ll make you scream my name, doll. So, what will it be? Do you want me to make you scream, or do you want me to make you whimper my name?”

“That’s not a choice!” You complained. “I have had enough of selfish men believing they can toy with me and my heart. I’ll cut yours out if you dare to touch me.”

“A cocky one,” he dropped his hand from your throat and pressed his hand against the wall, right next to your head. “Tell me, doll. Who hurt such a sweet girl?” He looked you up and down, hungrily roaming your body with his eyes.

“He—” You looked away and blinked a few times. “You’re not my therapist, and I’m not your problem.”

“You made it my problem when you attacked me because a douchebag hurt you. So, again. Who hurt you, doll?”

God, he smelled so good, and his lips tenderly pressed against your earlobe. You didn’t know what got into you, but you grasped for the stranger, taking him by supposed when you pressed your lips to his.

His hands grabbed your face, gently cradling it while he allowed you to dominate the kiss. “Doll,” he murmured against your lips. “You’re a little drunk, huh?”

“Make me forget about him,” you pleaded and fisted his jacket. “Here and now. Come on. Don’t be all talk.”

“I’d love to make you scream my name.” He pecked your lips twice. “I love me a crazy girl hitting me at first sight, but I won’t take advantage of you. You’re hurt, drunk, and a little lost. Let me take you home.”

“I don’t even know your name,” you gasped and stepped back. “I just kissed a stranger and asked him to fuck me. What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you, doll,” his features softened. “It’s alright. I’m a nice guy.” He smirked and laughed as you stepped back again. “My name is Bucky, okay. I’ll take you home if you want me to. Or I could call a cab for you.”

“Y/N,” you murmured your name, embarrassed about your actions. “Sorry. I didn’t want to attack you…or kiss you…or ask you to fuck me.”

“Y/N,” Bucky hummed. “A very nice name.” He said. “For an even nicer woman.” Holding out his hand, Bucky waited for you to take it. “I won’t bite, promised.”

“Maybe I like it when you bite me,” you challenged him.

“Let’s stick to getting the alcohol out of your system,” Bucky wrapped his arm around your shoulders when you didn’t take his hand. “Doll, you shouldn’t stay here. We started on the wrong foot, but I’m not a bad guy.”

“What the shit!” You exclaimed loudly while you looked around your apartment. “That bastard had the guts to unpack the gifts I got him before leaving our home to bang that bitch.”

“Hmm…that him?” Bucky lifted one of your picture frames. “He looks like a douchebag. I was right.”

“Why did you come with me again?” You glanced over your shoulder at the stranger in your home. “I’m good. Really.”

“I won’t leave a pretty dame in need alone on Valentine’s Day,” Bucky said. “Not after that man left you for some other woman.”

“I’m fine,” you lied. “Just…mad.” You shrugged. “I had the whole day planned; you know. Dinner at our favorite restaurant, the perfect gift, and naughty underwear to…” You shook your head.

“His loss,” Bucky shrugged while looking at one of the gift bags on the table. “It should’ve been him making big plans for Valentine’s Day. If you love your lady, you spoil her.”

“He found someone prettier and sexier,” you sniffled. “He told me so. The man I loved fell in love with his secretary because he doesn’t love me anymore.”

“Again, his loss,” he stepped closer to look inside the gift bag, taking the lingerie out. “Red lace, huh?”

“He liked red…” You snatched the underwear out of Bucky’s hands. “I wanted to turn him on. It’s been a while since he was interested in doing more than sleep in our bedroom.”

“I’d say white suits you more,” Bucky threw the lingerie over his shoulder. “How about you change into your favorite outfit, and I invite you for dinner. No strings attached, doll.”

“You want to take me out?” You questioned.

“Please let me take you out,” he stepped closer to grab your hand. “You deserve to spend this day with someone who cares.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Yet,” he said. “Let me get to know you, please.”

You nodded and agreed to go out for dinner with Bucky. It was a risk, but one you were willing to take.

Valentine reloaded

Tags in reblog.

[theocddiaries]

[At the Wachowski's house, the family, along with the Robotnik-Stones, are in the living room watching TV] Maddie: I love watching family videos, it warms my heart. Knuckles [bursts out laughing while pointing at the TV]: Hahaha! Look at how hard the red one fell off the swing! Weakling! Rouge: Knuckles, that's you. Knuckles: Huh? That's me? Well, I think it's dishonorable that you all laughed at me like that, then… And the one in the dress, is that also me? Amy: That's me! Look how cute I looked! I remember that day; Maddie took me shopping for dresses, and we had so much fun! Shadow: There’s Mr. Stone opening his café for the second time. Stone: I didn’t know you kept that video! Amy: What’s wrong with the camera? Who’s pushing the one recording? Everyone: Eggman. TV!Robotnik: Get that crap off my face unless you want me to shove it down your esophagus! Robotnik: Why was I like that? Knuckles: Eggman, you’ve always been that ugly. Robotnik: I meant grumpy and yelling! Shadow: Ivo, you’ve always been like that… Robotnik: Liar. Rouge: He's right! [stands up, grabs a feather duster to mock Eggman’s mustache, and imitates him]: "Hedgehog! Pass me the remote, I have an IQ of 300 but no idea how to use my arms!" [Everyone but Eggman bursts into laughter. Sonic leaves his spot reclining on Shadow and grabs the feather duster to place it under his nose like Rouge.] Sonic [mimicking Eggman]: "Stone, blow on my coffee, because I'm too clever to do it myself." [A phone rings. Everyone keeps laughing as Eggman crosses his arms.] Rouge [answers the phone, still imitating Eggman]: "Who dares to call me?!" Robotnik: I don’t know why you're laughing; I don't sound like that. Rouge [speaks normally]: No, no, Abe, it’s not Eggman, it’s Rouge. [Everyone laughs even harder.] Rouge: Yeah, sure, I’ll be there soon. [hangs up]: Well, guys, I’ll see you later. Sonic [imitating Eggman]: "Use your wings or buy some sneakers; you’re interrupting my seventh nap of the day with those heels!" Robotnik: Well, she does! Stone: Ivo, it’s just a joke. Robotnik: It's a bunch of lies! I’m an adorable middle-aged man! If I was yelling in that video, it’s because I was having a bad day… Tails [switches to another video]. TV!Shadow: Happy New Year, Ivo! TV!Robotnik: Happy crap on a stick. [Everyone glares at him.] Robotnik: …What? I hate Christmas. Tails [plays another video]. TV!Stone: Ivo, look, Shadow baked a little cake! I’m thinking of selling it at the café. TV!Robotnik: Why? Do you want to go bankrupt? That thing is ugly as hell. And the cake is even uglier. Robotnik: …Well, it’s easy to judge when you didn’t see how atrocious that cake was! Sonic: What are you talking about? His cakes are perfect. Tom: Are you talking about the coffee one? That one is so good. I’m getting a slice later. Maddie: No! Buy a whole one! It's amazing! Stone: It's our best seller! [Robotnik snatches the remote from Tails and switches to another video.] TV!Tails [crying uncontrollably] TV!Knuckles: Eggman, hurry, lend me your communicator! Tails fell, and he lost a tooth! TV!Robotnik: And if he keeps bawling like that, I’ll knock out the rest! [Maddie and Tom glare furiously at Robotnik.] Robotnik: …What?! They interrupted my nap! Sonic [mocking]: The seventh? Robotnik [turns off the TV]: Why didn’t anyone tell me I was this unpleasant?! Shadow: Because every time we tried, you’d get unpleasant and yell at us… Maddie: Ivo, if you don’t want to stay that way, I took some classes on keeping calm. They’re great for when you work with the public. I can help you if you want. Robotnik: Do you think I can improve as a person?? Maddie: Of course. Robotnik [flips the group off]: Screw you all, you mocking jerks! I’ll be superior to all of you on every level from now on! Tom: Well, your sister was right in her wedding speech about you liking lost causes… … The joke sounded less harsh in my head…

[imaginesbymonika]

Futile Devices | Part 5

Pairing: Noel Gallagher x childhood-best friend reader

Plot: There's nothing quite like realizing your feelings once it's too late. But what would life be without a speck of hope?

read previous part

(1998)

Noel who is sitting next to Nicole leans back in his chair and annoyingly crosses his arms in front of his chest. Usually, he loved the Brits, truly. It’s his favorite award show of the year (even if he’d never admit that to anyone). Nonetheless, this year even though he tries his absolute best to have a good time and enjoy himself he just couldn't do it. No matter how much alcohol he drinks.

His eyes wander the table. His brother Liam is filling his girlfriend’s champagne glass to the brim and giggles like a schoolboy when some of it spills on the white tablecloth. The blonde in his arm scolds him, but cannot conceal the smile that materializes on her red-painted lips. He sees how Nicole yawns, before her hand moves to gently caress his shoulder. Something is missing. And he just can’t put his finger on it.

He wants to say something to her when he catches a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. A familiar silhouette. Pursued by a feeling in his chest that he used to be able to put a word on. Noel turns his head and sees you.

Three tables behind their own is Blur’s. You are sitting next to Damon, wearing a gorgeous silver satin dress. Considering, how all the other people at the table are wearing somewhat more informal clothing you look like something straight out of a magazine.

His blue eyes travel down to your hand that’s intertwined with Damon’s, and when he notices a (huge fucking) diamond on your ring finger he swallows thickly. He thought you loathed wearing jewelry. His head quickly turns back to his table.

„Are you okay?“, Nicole asks, her tone concerned before his gaze drifts through the room. When it stops on you she lets out an understanding sigh:” It was all over Daily Mail.”

“What?”

“Their engagement.”, she explains, bringing the glass up to her lips:” Damon gave an interview on how she’s the love of his life or whatever. Expensive fucking ring too. I always guessed Blur didn’t sell that much, but well…”

Noel stares at his drink. He wonders if he’ll be invited to the wedding, but then again you didn’t phone him to tell him about the engagement in the first place. He wanted to be angry- at Damon, angrier than he had already been. Yet if he was being ethical about it he couldn’t be. If someone was to vilify for this whole fiasco it has to be him. He had shoved you away. Nicole wasn’t his best friend, fuck this.

“Are you having a good time?”, a voice from next to him asks and Noel simply nods. In reality, all he wanted to do was cry. Something was missing, and that something was you.

[ashen-char]

never give you peace

ship: anora x igor

content: spoilers to anora (2024), references to canon violence and sex

summary: after vanya fucked off back to russia, igor moved to brighton beach. he has routine meet-ups checking in on ani. they get to some understanding

word count: 2200+

It's been a month since Vanya left. Ivan Zakharov, the oligarch's son, her husband. The irresponsible manchild that lavished her with just enough attention and gifts that she actually fell for his shit. A Vegas quickie wedding. A four carat diamond ring. Ani was on top of the world. But then his parents came to force them to annul the marriage and he ran, tail between his legs. Ani fought for them. Vanya didn't.

Their whirlwind romance was only really three weeks. But the Manhattan mansion, the Vegas penthouse... She didn't know him, not really. He didn't know her at all. His disjointed English, her loose grasp on Russian. She had naively thought she'd learn more about him in time. That they'd last. They were married after all. He wanted to stay in America just for her. Maybe those words meant nothing when Vanya never even said her real name. She was just Ani to him. Stripper.

She's back in her real life now. Shitty mattress, cold air from no working AC. Igor checks in on her from time to time. Ani made a lot of cash from selling the ring, from what Ivan paid her in the first place. Enough to keep afloat for a couple years. But she went back to old habits, went back to working for HQ. It was easier to pretend Vanya didn't happen. Didn't exist. Didn't shake up her world then leave like it was nothing. 

"I fuckin' told you, I'm good," Ani growls, rolling her eyes at Igor's slew of questions. "Do you have to ask a million more times?"

The serious-looking Russian man frowns. Sorta. Ani kinda hates the blank expression he usually sports, unaffected by her attitude or even smiling at it. He takes a sip from his coffee, black with no cream or sugar just how he liked it, which of course she called him "fucking weird" for.

They're in some hole in the wall café in Ani's neighbourhood, now Igor's as well. He has settled in well to Brighton Beach this past month, after he insisted on staying here so he doesn't burden his grandmother too much. He didn't tell her, but Anora bets it was just to make sure she's alright. 

"Sometimes you say you are good when you are not good," he says. His English still isn't the best, but there's less of an accent now. Of course, he could get by in Brighton Beach purely in Russian but he knows what Ani prefers. So with her, it's English. "But alright. I will leave it alone."

"Thank you," she says, widening her eyes and rolling them a little. But it's genuine enough, and both of them know it. Thank you for giving her space when she needs it, thank you for never giving too much space that she feels alone again. Whatever. Ugh, mushy.

Igor slides a plate of blini with jam and cream across to her. "You have not touched your breakfast," he chides gently. "Eat. You need to keep your strength." Igor watches her with those intense grey eyes, his brow furrowed slightly.

Anora nods, sipping her own coffee. Caramel frap, even in the cold weather. Her foot taps an anxious rhythm against the floor, acrylic fingernails clicking on the tabletop. The routine check-up with Igor is just that - routine at this point. She's used to his gentle concern, the way his brows knit together as he studies her face for signs of fatigue or distress. Still, his words nag at her. Keep strength? For what, exactly? Her days are boring now. She doesn't need to prepare for anything like the harrowing 48 hours after they met.

"I'm fine, dude. Really." Ani forces a smile, attempting to push down the ache in her chest. Vanya's absence is a dull throb, constant and unrelenting. Some days are worse than others. The nights are the hardest, when the loneliness creeps in and memories of silk sheets and games she didn't fucking care about but gave him so much joy flood her mind. Russian sable coats, but also the shitty takeaway noodles she'd feed him. 

And it's annoying, when Igor just stares at her. Hell, she knows she's lying but did this dude always have to read her? 

Ani picks at the blini to procrastinate admitting any hard truths, spreading a thin layer of jam before taking a small bite. She flashes Igor a 'see, I'm eating, happy?' look. He seems to accept it, because he focuses on his own breakfast. The sweetness bursts on her tongue, cloying and artificial. Her stomach churns. Ani sets down her fork with a soft clink.

"Alright, fuck, you got me. I haven't been eating much." Truth slips out without warning, the admission bitter on her tongue.

What even was the last meal she had before this? The strawberry jam is foreign, too much almost. Maybe it was the pizza her sister had slid through her door after Ani didn't get out of bed. Maybe the stupid eggs she burned because she was too zoned out.

"Eat lots now."

"Yeah, dude, I got it."

Ani sighs heavily, shoulders slumping. "I don't know how to do this, Igor. How to just... move on. Pretend like a literal marriage never happened." Her hands twist in her lap, knuckles white. "I feel like I'm losing my mind sometimes."

She knows Ivan isn't worth it, and maybe that's the worst part. He was never gonna be the man she wanted, had hoped tirelessly, that he'd be. He wouldn't have fought, wouldn't have talked to his parents, wouldn't have defended her. In the end, Ivan never wanted her. Just fun. That's what she liked about him, but it was also the reason they never would have lasted. Laying awake at night, salt streaming from her eyes into her ears, about him? The boy never washed a plate or did his laundry in his life. Never knew how to show love if it wasn't buying it, or even worse, the empty words. She feels so stupid, playing it all back, in hindsight seeing all the moments she should've realised.

"Why would you lose your mind?" he asks.

"I'm right where I was before I met him. And I feel like screaming all the time," Ani says. "I feel like a fucking idiot for hoping. As if fairytales happen to people like us."

He hums, a low and rumbling sound. Igor always listens to her. Which was unnerving at first, and sort of unbelievable considering when they met he was yelling at her to shut up and literally gagged her. (Toros gagged her, Igor would correct).

He holds his hand out and for a second Anora thinks he's offering to hold hers. But what Igor actually does is hand her his coffee. "You're too cold." He makes her hands let go of each other, bring them to clasp over the cup. His larger hands cover hers, helping her focus on the heat, on the sensation of the here and now instead of her swirling, self-pitying thoughts.

Igor looks at her like... God, Ani can't explain it. Can't bring herself to focus on it, to really think about and analyse the deepness of it, or why. What she can feel is that he doesn't have the answers either. That's comforting in its own way. He never leaves her alone, which has slowly gotten less creepy and more relieving. The heat seeps into her palms, grounding her. Igor's never failed to surprise her. He's always so in tune with her needs, even when she doesn't voice them herself. Especially when she doesn't voice them.

"You are Anora Mikheeva," he tells her, and she bites back the instinctive correction of 'Ani', "Have been a lot longer than Anora Zakharova."

The name sounds foreign and she supposes that's Igor's point. It stings, just like when he told her that he was glad that she wasn't in the family. Proves that she never really was, even if somehow Ivan wasn't a coward and hadn't run. His parents wouldn't have approved. Ani would eternally be the outsider, decked out in lavish clothes but still internally herself. Eventually made to be some trophy wife, little more than a pretty accessory to be paraded around and bragged about, but unable to fly on her own terms. Unable to be proud of her achievements, her dreams before meeting him. Only supporting Vanya as he worked in his father's company.

"I never changed my name, asshat," she retorts instead. Because it's always been easier to rebuff Igor's attempts than let him chisel away at her walls. They haven't exactly addressed what happened between them either. How Anora had ridden Igor until she melted in his embrace, finally breaking down into tears. She'd cried for an hour, then. He let her. She quickly looks away and sips his coffee, wincing at the bitter taste.

"You will live. Find normal. You are doing good."

"I'm trying," Ani murmurs. Find normal. What does normal even mean at this point? Her life has been anything but normal for as long as she can remember. Relying on her wits and her body, only making it work because she was fucking good at it. "I'm trying," she repeats, more firmly this time.

His hand goes to her knee, patting it.  It's embarrassing since men touch her pretty much every night, but it makes Anora jolt slightly. The casual touch sends a shiver down her spine, a reminder of... whatever that car tryst could be called. Almost intimacy? A shallow attempt to go back to her old life. She'd been desperate, lost, seeking solace and warmth and distraction in any form she could find it. And Igor had been there, steady and silent, letting her use him however she needed. It was alright until he tried to kiss her.

Ani swallows thickly, setting the mug down with a quiet clink. She doesn't like leaving words unsaid. Knows Igor's probably been worrying his stupid bald head over how hard she sobbed and broke down on him. 

"About, you know..." she starts hesitantly, words stumbling over themselves. "What we did. In the car. It was-"

Needful. Cathartic. A moment of weakness. None of those sound right.

"Unplanned," she settles on finally, meeting his gaze. "I didn't- I'm not-" Fluent in this, in the complicated tangle of feelings and expectations that come with intimacy. Sex for sex's sake? Sure. Beyond the transactional, beyond the professional? There's no place for that. Not in her life. "God, I dunno. Thanks for the ring, basically. Thanks for everything else."

And he says something so ridiculous it actually makes Ani un-tense her shoulders. "It's OK."

"OK? I fucking beat up your chest and crashed out on you."

Igor's mouth purses into a thin line. He chucks an ungodly amount of pancake into his mouth and her face screws up in judgement about how he just crams food in like he won't have it again. "What, you regret it?"

"No," Ani says quickly, the denial tumbling out of her mouth before she can stop it. "I don't regret it." She meets Igor's gaze head on, willing him to see the truth of her words. There's a flicker of something in his eyes—relief, perhaps, or cautious hope.

Ani shifts in her seat, suddenly restless. The memory of that afternoon burns bright in her mind. The weight of Igor's body beneath her, the drag of his skin against hers, the way he'd let her take control. Set the pace. Use him however she needed. It had been freeing, in a way. Empowering. To know that even in her lowest point, she still held some semblance of power. That she could take what she wanted, when she wanted it. What she couldn't take was that he wanted more. Pulled her face in.

"I'm not ready for anything," she says.

"I know."

Igor hadn't judged her for her tears, or the ragged edges of her emotions. He'd simply been there, solid and unwavering. A port in the storm of her... what? Grief? Loss?

"I'm a fucking terrible person."

Igor smiles for the first time during this whole routine meet-up. "I do not think so," he says.

"Even if I'm 'too fucking crazy'? Run my mouth?"

The memory is vivid in her mind—the shock of seeing Ivan's father's goons in the mansion, the panic that had risen in her chest. She'd lashed out, all claws and teeth and fury. Igor had taken it like a champ, never fighting back despite her best efforts to hurt him. Then he tied her up, that asshole.

He shrugs. "Makes things interesting." In a move Ani can't counter, he grabs her coffee instead, sipping the too-sweet caramel frap that doesn't suit him at all. "I like not handling you."

Even now, Anora feels a thrill of pride at how badly she'd mauled him. He's such a stand-up guy and she knows that now, but she'll never feel bad about defending herself. She can see the scar of that deep-ass bite on his neck still. "Is it alright if my new normal has you in it?" Ani asks. "You won't win any fights, I'll never admit when you're right."

"Done and done."

"I'm never gonna calm down, you know?" she tells him, like she almost wants him to turn this down. "What you see is what you get."

He fixes those eyes on her. "You are always wild. Why would I expect different?"

And it's funny. With Ivan, she was silently glued to him, whatever he wanted. Igor got her actual self, the one that talks shit with her friends and cusses out any small inconvenience.

"Toosh, dude."

[httpknjoon]

(re)starting over again | kth; 11

plot | Your four-year relationship with Taehyung was going well and strong. Until he was involved in a car accident, resulting to him losing some memories. By some, it means everything that happened five years ago. Things he remember? His friends, his bakeshop, and his ex girlfriend from the past. With that, you tried to keep up, restarting over again.

words | 2.8k

genres | fluff, angst, amnesia au

pairing | taehyung x reader

warning/s | -

note | AAAAND WE'RE BACK! it's been a month since the last update! consider this as a new season for mc and tae :)) u might find this chapter a little fast-paced or not idk.. let me know ur thoughts! enjoy reading <;3 ps. sorry for the errors!

main masterlist | series masterlist

A couple of years passed, two to be exact, and a lot of things happened. The bakery became more crowded. It was renovated and had a larger space instead of moving the entire bakery to another place. They began hiring extra help, usually part-time working students who used to be customers in the shop too. 

Also, turns out that Jimin has a kid. Taehyung met Jihoon just a week after his best friend learned about his existence. Jihoon is a carbon copy of his dad, Taehyung thought. His eyes disappear when he smiles. Now, they have a little baker running around the kitchen usually on weekends.

Aside from those changes, Taehyung now lives in a studio apartment just a five-minute walk away from the bakery. He moved in just weeks after you left. The said apartment is not that big, just enough for him to rest in after work. Jimin commented that he treats that place like a hotel since Taehyung didn’t really personalize it to make the ambiance like a home. The whole place was plain, not even considered minimalist. Just plain. The walls were untouched. It was off-white when Taehyung came and it remains the same now. He didn’t really bother to invest anything in the place.

The house you two bought and lived in is still being taken care of. By him. Taehyung cleans up there once a week, just in case you reach out to visit home again and maybe talk about what to do with it. And when he feels like it, which is almost rare, he sleeps on the couch in the living room. He never really entered the guest room, which became your bedroom after the accident, except the time he got home after Jisoo and Namjoon’s wedding. That room was spotless, just like how you left it. The only things you left that night were on your vanity table; your house keys, the vintage pearl ring he bought you back in the flea market, and a folded paper.

The letter says, “Feel at home, this house is yours too. Paint the walls with the colors you like, buy new furniture, and fill the frames with new memories. Just please don’t sell it. I’ll try to reach out as soon as I can. For now, live the last years you missed.”

He never painted the walls with another color as he found the shade of blue that spreads around the house perfect. He never bought any furniture and still kept the same ones you had. He thought it fit the theme of the house and his preference. And yes, the picture frames show the same photos they originally had. It felt home that way for him. But he chose to move to the apartment because he always felt like he was missing something. The house is cozy and comfortable. But whenever he tries to lie on supposedly his bed, it feels empty. Once, he tried playing jazz music around the house, but it just got lonelier so he turned it off and just continued cleaning.

But he did try to keep up and look back at the things he forgot through his friends and the things he found at the house. Jimin, Namjoon, and sometimes Jisoo were patient with his questions. Jisoo, your best friend, was understandably distant from him at first after you went away. But she adds details to the stories Namjoon tells and later, became amiable with him. Jimin’s mom still looks after him and brings him food when she visits the city. There were a few times she mentioned Taehyung’s mother but he didn’t really care about her. So he ignores it.

“You know, you’re a handsome man. Don’t you have any lady?”

One of their common customer, a man in his seventies once asked him. It was not the first time someone asked him such a thing. He always shakes his head with a smile as an answer. It would lead later with an offer to meet someone they know. Taehyung would shyly and kindly decline these offers, saying he really doesn’t feel like dating for now. It’s true. The idea of him dating someone else felt wrong. It was like his own body rejected the idea as he felt uneasy with that thought.

“So, it’s that time of the year.”

Taehyung was pulling his third pan of cheesecake out of the hot oven with his oven gloves when he heard Ava, their longtime part-time staff, say that. She sounded amused but not surprised. He looked up and saw her leaning on the door frame with her arms crossed. She had a smug smile on her face. 

“I swear, you should just declare this particular day as Cheesecake and Banana Bread Day just to make it official,” she added, teasing.

Taehyung looked at her, unimpressed, “It’s selling. In fact, my cheesecakes are one of our best sellers here… What are you doing here anyway? Go back to the front.”

He scolds her, she just rolled her eyes, unbothered.  Ava was one of the students who knew Taehyung even before his accident. She went from being a loyal customer to a reliable staff of the shop. She has been enjoying the pastries in the shop ever since she was twelve and now, sixteen, she also enjoys getting into small banters with her older bosses. She is usually candid, and not shy to share her thoughts. Taehyung sees her as a little sister most time.

Given that she began working here after you left, Ava doesn’t really have an idea why Taehyung bakes a few batches of cheesecake and banana loaves on this specific date. She doesn’t know you and that you are celebrating your birthday today. Taehyung learned about that fact after his phone notified him weeks after you went. Since then, he has baked your favorites on your special day. 

It’s the third time now. It’s probably a slim chance but he hoped to see you around the bakeshop, enjoying pastries. But so far, he hasn’t seen you around. In fact, he hadn’t even heard from you ever since that night. He thought he saw you a year ago in the subway when he came to Incheon to go sightseeing, but he lost you before he could take a second glance. He didn’t know where you moved since he respects your space but he wondered if you really moved that far. He wonders about you every now and then. 

Jisoo posted a short clip in her Instagram Stories months ago. It’s just a clip of a long trail and he swore he heard you in the background noise of that clip, telling your best friend how tired you are from hiking. Then, the clip ended.

“Not because it’s best selling you would make a ton of it. It’s something about demand and supply– I don’t know,” she conceded, breaking Taehyung’s train of thought. “Anyway, I’m here because someone called on the phone, asking for you.”

Taehyung’s heart stopped for a second. His hopes almost blasted out of his soul but he tried to stay calm before asking Ava, “Who is it?”

“I don’t know. But it’s a woman. They said they want to specifically talk to you.” she replied, unaware that the man in front of him was holding his breath. She continued, “They are actually waiting on call right now.”

Taehyung almost sprinted to the front desk of the shop. Still in his mint green oven gloves, he reached for the telephone. His heart is beating fast while his gut is twisting tight. He paused when he realized he had nothing to say. He doesn’t know what to say if it’s you. Are you going to talk about the house? Should he greet you with Happy Birthday first and offer you your favorite cheesecake? Maybe you won’t like– Stop.

Taehyung took a deep breath before exhaling. He spoke, “Hello, this is Kim Taehyung, co-owner of The Sweet Spot. How can I help you?”

“Oh, hi.” 

His heart dropped. Okay, relax. He told himself. It’s not you.

There were nights when Taehyung would find himself awake. And tonight is one of those nights. He just lay on his bed, staring at the blank ceiling. He always had trouble falling asleep, maybe a side effect of his accident. He doesn’t know anymore. But he knows that it makes his head go crazy with random thoughts when times like this happen. And now, he thought of something.

That’s when he picked up his phone and keys, along with his coat. He drove away from his apartment. 

The bell above the door rang when he entered the convenience store to pick up a few beers and chips. His cold hands stayed in his coat’s pockets as he looked around the store, waiting for the clerk to scan his stuff. Just when the worker was about to say the prince, the bell clung again.

“No, wait. I’m just really hungry. Wait for me… Yes, I have money here.”

Everything went quiet and suddenly all that he could hear was that voice. Your voice. He’s sure of that. He looked back and saw a woman’s back going into one of the aisles. His heart raced once again. You’re here?

“Dude, you okay?” the tired clerk asked, looking at him with heavy bags under his eyes.

Taehyung looked at him, and broke out of his headspace, “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry.”

He pulled out his cash and paid. He can still hear your voice like you were talking with someone on your phone.

“Do you want anything– Oh, the honey-butter chips I want ran out of stock.”

Taehyung looked at the chips in his hand. He looked at the clerk who also looked at him like they understood each other without saying anything. Taehyung placed the chip back on the counter.

“Just give this to the girl,” he whispered before turning his back.

He didn’t look back. A cool blow of wind brushed on his face when he walked out the door. For a second, he inhaled and exhaled again to calm his nerves. He got in his car, putting the pack of beer on the other seat. As he started the car, his eyes landed on the side mirror. 

Yes, it’s you. Definitely.

You just walked out of the same store, still on your phone, as you walked away grinning with your honey butter chips. You walked on the other end of the pathwalk. Taehyung pursed his lips and drove away.

His lips remained sealed but his head was exploding with questions. That was the closest he had seen you since the night you said goodbye. How are you? Why are you in the city? Did you live around here? It can’t be. Jisoo told him you left the hospital you used to work at. 

Instead of driving back to his apartment, Taehyung ended up parking in front of your deserted house. He had his beer with him as he turned the key on the doorknob. He stepped into the said home feeling colder even though he still hadn’t removed his coat.  He placed the drink on the center table in the living room and plugged in the TV for background noise. He put on a random show, which happens to be FRIENDS. 

Opening a can, he sat on the couch, pulling a couple of books he left under the same table. Photo albums and scrapbooks. You never told him such things exist in here, he just found them after cleaning around the house. It was personalized by you and him. He could tell by the design and handwritten captions. 

Almost everything was documented through photos and other knick knacks like receipts from a movie you two saw together. Browsing through the pages of it, it felt like looking at other people’s relationships even though he was in the photos himself. In one of the photos, he saw himself with a camera. He didn’t even know he had one. He tried searching around the house for it but he never found it. 

You had more solo portraits in the said books than him. He figured out why. Maybe he really loved capturing you as his subject. You looked the same in every picture: happy and in love. Most of your pictures were candid, taken without you knowing. Then, a handwritten date by him will be seen below it. Each photo was adorable. Some are just random ones. You were brushing your teeth or showing off your colorful scrubs (which was written in the caption: BOUGHT HER YELLOW DUCKIES SCRUBS I THINK SHE LIKES IT).

Taehyung spend his sleepless nights like this, looking back at what he missed. He read through articles before that the possibility of getting his memories back is a hit or miss. So he learned to just go on and maybe accept how things became. He tries to move forward at the same time he tries to look back. It’s quite confusing sometimes.

IT’S HER… I’M SURE 

That was the caption in one photo of you dating just weeks after you two moved into this house. In the picture, your back was turned as you sat in front of your vanity table. You can be seen fixing your hair while looking at your reflection. Taehyung’s eyebrow raised with the caption. He wondered what it meant. He turned the page to the next one but was greeted with nothing but a blank page. Turns out, that was the most recent one.

“The main branch of their restaurant is somewhere in Incheon. I’ll send you the address after the call.” 

Taehyung listened to Jimin through a loudspeaker call. His hair is still damp from a shower. Standing in front of the mirror, he compares two coats that would suit the rest of his outfit. He felt the need to look presentable tonight.

“You will meet the owner herself, Ashley. She said you can just introduce yourself to the host and he’ll lead you to your table… Ava kept the samples in the shop. She said she put them in different Tupperware so you can spot it right away.” Jimin instructed.

“Okay, okay.”

He heard his best friend sigh on the other line, “I’m sorry for the short notice, Tae. I totally forgot Jihoon will be staying with me tonight.”

Tonight, Taehyung will be meeting a special client. It’s the one who called a couple of weeks ago, during your birthday. it‘s a big restaurant that is planning to put the bakeshop’s products on their menu for dessert. Specifically, the cakes. The head chef was the one who brought up their product to the owner, whom he will meet now. Jimin initially agreed to meet the said client but his co-parenting schedule had some shifts. Just an hour ago, Taehyung learned he’d be the one meeting the client. It’s not like he had plans anyway. So, he immediately prepared himself.

After picking the clothes, Taehyung blow-dried and brushed his hair. His best friend sent the main address minutes later and so he left his apartment. He first drove by the shop, which closed a little earlier today. A lot of cakes were made for sample. It includes Jimin’s Carrot Cake, his own cheesecake, and six other more. Taehyung left with a brown bag of the samples.

His fingers tapped with the beat of the song playing on the radio as he drove his way to the restaurant. It was a peaceful night on the road. 

This will be the first time Taehyung will be going back to Incheon since that time he went sightseeing. He stayed there for just three days before, it was days after his phone notified him about your supposedly fifth anniversary. His emotions were all over the place because of the aftermath and the demanding work in the bakeshop around that time. So he asked Jimin for a very short break. He still hasn’t got a car then so he took the subway throughout the whole time. It was during his last day there when he saw a glimpse of you in the crowded subways of that city. He remembered you were in your scrubs, your hair was cleanly kept in a low bun, and you were walking opposite of his direction. Then, he blinked. You were gone in the crowded place.

“Good evening, sir.”

Almost forty minutes later, Taehyung arrived at the restaurant, Starry Night. He was greeted by the host as he entered the elegant place. It has a great ambiance, romantic. It is a fine-dining restaurant and seems like a perfect spot for dinner dates. 

He said his name when he was asked.  And while the man looked down at his guest list, Taehyung’s eyes traveled around the place. And not even a minute in, his eyes stopped at someone who he felt had been staring at him.

His eyes widened at the sight. A stunning woman, clad in a black dress, stares back at him with surprise. His mouth ran dry, he had to gulp. Now, he’s sure. He’s sure.

It’s you.

taglist rules

RESTARTING OVER AGAIN TAGLIST [🔧🔨 ]

@iamkookiesforyou @aianloveseven @hoodalmighty @taebangtanbabe @kthsmoon @nooojaaam @hiimnothing @hiqhkey @annenakamura @taebangtanbabe @shin-ie @prlan @zzztaegizz @starlight-night0 @teddybeartaetae @http-fayeradise​ @kiwuki @tannies-luv @fuckthinking @betysotelo18 @honsoolgloss @aurorathi @paulaaa97 @satisfied18

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @ficluvr613 @misshale21

[selldiamond]

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[mamaestapa]

joe wanting to leave somewhere but you wanting to stay blurb

Mans Best Friend|| Joe Burrow x reader

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•summary: You drag Joe along to a friends purse party and he becomes best friends with the dog

•warnings: none, this is all fluff :)

“Y/n,” Joe groaned as he followed you into the kitchen of the large house. You poured yourself another glass of lemonade, rolling your eyes at Joe in the process. “Do I really have to stay?” He asked, folding his muscular arms over his chest as he watched you fill your glass.

Your best friend from college was hosting a purse party today and she insisted that you come over for good food, fun times, and of course, a new purse. You accepted her invitation and brought Joe along with you. You figured Joe and your best friends husband Andrew would hang out while you spent time with the girls outside, obsessing over all of the cute purses and other accessories. However, when you and Joe pulled up to your friends house, you discovered that Andrew was out with his friends, meaning Joe was stuck at the purse party with you and ten other women—with no other men in sight, well except for Moose the doodle.

“Sorry Joey,” you said, stepping up on your tip toes to place a kiss on his cheek, “you’re stuck here with me.” Joe rolled his eyes and huffed out a sigh of annoyance. He loved you, but he hated stuff like this. “I don’t even care about purses,” he grumbled, following you out of the kitchen and over to the sliding glass doors. You stopped in front of the door and looked up at your husband, giving him your best RBF. “Joe,” you sighed, “do you know how many football events you have dragged me to in the past five years that I don’t care about?”

Joe couldn’t lie, you did have a point. He’s brought you to many football related events that didn’t pertain to you at all. But you still went along with hun to each one, and you stayed the entire time. Even if they bored you a bit.

You reached out and grabbed his left hand, your finger running over his gold wedding band, “I go to those events because I love you and want to support what you love, Joe. Please do the same for me, just this once?” You pushed your bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout as you looked into his soft baby blues. He sighed dramatically, “Fine.” You smiled warmly at him, “Thank you babe.” He grabbed your left hand, bringing it up to his mouth to place a kiss over your diamond wedding ring, “only because I love you so much.”

He let go of your hand, both of you leaning in to give the other a loving kiss. As you pulled away from each other, you gave Joe a gentle pat on his right pec before you opened the sliding glass door and headed back outside to the patio, where your best friend was starting to set up all of the purses she was selling. Joe watched as you walked back over to the table set up outside. A small smile on his face as he watched your face light up when your best friend held up a simple black Kate Spade purse. Joe shook his head in amusement, letting out a sigh as he reached for the door handle to go outside and join you and the rest of the women. However, he stopped when he noticed Moose sitting down next to him. Joe looked down at the dog, a smile making its way onto his face as he reached down to gently pet the sweet doodle. “Looks like it’s just me and you, Moose.” Joe mused to the dog as he looked out at the backyard full of women.

.As you and your friends bought purses, you noticed Joe never joined you back outside. You decided to go back inside to see where your husband had went off to. You walked back into the house, wearing a wide grin and holding a Kate Spade purse. You set the purse down on the counter and called out for Joe.

“Joe!”

No response.

“Joey!”

Still nothing. You frowned slightly at the silence. Joe never ignores you. You hoped he wasn’t upset with you for dragging him to this party… You were about to call out for Joe again when you heard chuckling come from the living room. You walked through the kitchen and toward the living room, a wide smile making its way onto your face as you looked at the sight in front of you.

Joe was sitting against the couch, a grin on his face, chuckling happily as Moose climbed all over Joe. The dog left wet kisses all over Joe’s face as his tail wagged happily from all of the attention he was getting.

“Looks like you found a friend,” you smiled, pointing at Moose. Joe looked up at you, grin still on his face as he said, “Moose and I have become quite good friends while you were busy screaming over purses.” You playfully rolled your eyes as you sat down next to your husband. Moose was now sitting in front of Joe, looking at him with what looked to be a sort of grin. You smiled as you looked at the dog.

“I think he likes you.” You chuckled. Joe nodded, “I think so too.” He looked over you, smiling warmly as he reached for your hand, “You have fun?” You nodded, “I did. Did you?” Joe glanced at Moose as he said, “I did.”

A couple weeks later, you and Joe ended up adopting a doodle that looked just like Moose.

If it wasn’t for your purse party, Joe wouldn’t have found his new best friend.

hey loves!!

second blurb of the night, ah! i thought this idea was sweet to go with the blurb request :) i hope you all liked it!

that’s all the blurbs i’ll have posted for tonight, but please keep sending them! i’ll be doing blurb nights either once a week or multiple times a week. i have a lot to work on, so it’s looking like this will be a multiple nights a week type of thing ;)

thank you to everyone that has sent me a blurb idea! they’re all such great ideas and i can’t wait to write them🥰

hope you’re all doing well🤍🤍