#greeting-card-holders

[yunniverse]

Important

౨ৎ PAIRING— kim hongjoong x reader

౨ৎ GENRE— angst, fluff, established relationship, fem!reader

౨ৎ WARNINGS— angst, argument but happy ending

౨ৎ WORD COUNT— 2.1k

౨ৎ SUMMARY— you expected hongjoong to remember, but he forgot.

౨ৎ A/N— hope you enjoy and tysm for reading!! feedback is appreciated!!

“One coffee, extra milk and sugar,” you tell the cashier at the coffee shop, understanding why he seems tired and looks as if he wants to get out of there and in his bed already. It’s almost midnight, after all.   “That all?” he asks, looking about as uninterested as he possibly can.   “No,” you clear your throat, not even having to look at the menu. “Another coffee, one sugar.”   He nods slowly, placing the order before taking your card and swiping it. You wait by the door, checking your phone again, only to not see any messages from him, just as you expected.

Though, it still feels like a punch to the gut. You had already texted Yunho to ask where he is, even though you pretty much already knew.   You look up when the cashier calls out your order, pushing off the wall to grab the drinks. “Thanks,” you tell him, offering him a half smile. “Have a good night.”   “Mhm,” he responds as you walk out of the coffee shop, the bell ringing above the door.   Getting into your car, you sigh as you place the drinks in the cup holders. It’s your one year anniversary of dating Hongjoong, and you honestly shouldn’t be surprised in the slightest that he obviously forgot.

You’ve tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, given the fact that Ateez is in the middle of promoting their new comeback, but it still hurt when he didn’t show up at the restaurant like he said he would.

You had even had to tell them to cancel the reservation, after you waited for nearly an hour for him to show up.   As you drive, you try to stay calm, knowing it isn’t his fault completely, and he has way too much on his plate, but he could have told you he was too busy, right?   When you pull up to KQ, you sigh yet again, grabbing the drinks as you open your door, met with a burst of cool air. Bringing the coffee inside with you, you slowly make your way to Hongjoong’s workplace.   When you finally make it, you can’t help the small shadow of a smile that creeps onto your face when you see him hunched over in front of his computer, writing notes and humming.

He’s wearing an oversized t-shirt, which you hate to admit, because you’re supposed to be upset, looks amazing on him. His soft, brown hair is a little messy from running his fingers through it, but somehow he still looks beautiful.   “Hongjoong?” you question softly, sighing when he doesn’t respond, still humming to himself amd writing. Gently placing the drinks on the table beside the door, you walk over to him quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder.   With a small jolt, he turns to look at you, his face softening when he sees you. “Hey, baby,” he greets you with a warm smile, pushing the glasses up on his nose.   “Hi,” you respond, rubbing your arm, as Hongjoong grabs your hand, trying to tug you a little closer, probably to give you a hug, but you shake your head, trying to shrug him off.   He frowns, confused, “What’s wrong?”   “You really forgot?” you question, hating how vulnerable you sound, but you can’t help it. Finally seeing him today had just snapped something inside of you, and now you feel like you’re on the verge of tears.   “Forgot?” Hongjoong questions, his pretty brown eyes searching your face, flickering back and forth between your eyes, trying to read your emotions.   “Our anniversary,” you inform him, hearing your voice shake slightly.   Hongjoong’s face falls as he slumps in his chair, removing his glasses to rub his eyes before meeting your gaze again, seeing the disappointment in yours. “Oh, baby, I didn’t… You don’t… It wasn’t…? It was today?”   You simply nod, sniffing in order to hold back the tears threatening to fall at any moment.   “I set an alert so I wouldn’t forget, but I got so busy today that I haven’t checked my phone,” Hongjoong sighs. “I’m so sorry, baby. I truly didn’t mean to.”   “I understand,” you nod once, stepping away from him. “You’re just busy. Work comes first. I’ve always known that.”   “No, y/n,” Hongjoong shakes his head, reaching for you again, but you take another step back. “Please!”   “No, Hongjoong,” you reach for the coffee, holding it out to him as you gesture at it. “I got your usual.”   “Thanks, I-“   “But I’m gonna go.”   “What?” Hongjoong’s eyebrows crease as he stands. “Why?”   “You’re busy, and I’m a burden to your work,” you shrug, trying your best to sound unaffected, though you’re almost certain Hongjoong can see through your act.   “It isn’t like that, y/n,” Hongjoong sighs, his shoulders lowering in defeat as he plays with the wrapping around the paper coffee cup.   “What’s it like then, Joongie?” you ask, the nickname slipping out accidentally, you being to used to saying it.   Hongjoong’s offers you a small smile at the nickname, as he takes a step toward you, hoping you won’t back away. “I genuinely didn’t mean to forget, baby, but between the comeback preparations and the fanmeet and performance earlier today, it just completely slipped my mind.”   “I understand!” you suddenly snap, knowing you’re being unreasonable, but you just can’t seem to wrap you head around him forgetting your anniversary. “I understand, Joong.”   “It isn’t about you understanding,” he responds, somehow remaining calm. “It’s about letting me apologize.”   “I am letting you apologize,” you cross your arms, and Hongjoong sighs, looking down before fixing the glasses on his nose again. “Please, go right ahead.”   Without another word, Hongjoong steps toward you, his arms wrapping around your stiff frame.

At first, you stiffen even more, but, the longer he perseveres, the more you find yourself melting into him.   The soothing, faint scent of citrus and ginger slowly lures you to press your face into the soft skin of Hongjoong’s neck, breathing out a sigh as you relax into his warm embrace.   “I really am sorry, baby,” he whispers into your hair, making a small whimper escape your lips, muffled by Hongjoong’s skin. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”   “Really?” you ask, sniffling slightly as you pull back to look him in the eyes.   “Yeah,” he breathes, pressing his forehead against yours as he speaks. “I’ll take you wherever you wanna go this weekend. Name it, we’ll be there.”   “Joongie,” you frown a little, causing him to glance down at your lips, giving you a small pout when he sees your downturned expression. “I don’t need to go somewhere to be happy. I just want to spend time with you.”   “But-“   You lift your hand, placing a finger against Hongjoong’s lips to silence him. “Honestly, that’s all I really wanted anyway. To talk to you and finally get to be with you again. It’s been way too long since we had an evening to ourselves, given your hard work all the time.”

Hongjoong’s gaze flickers across your face as he takes in your words, looking a little confused.   “You didn’t want to go out tonight?” he asks softly.   “No,” you shake your head a little, a small smile forming on your face. “Don’t get me wrong, it would’ve been fun, but what I really wanted was you.”   ���Just me?” he repeats, as if he can’t believe it.   “I love you, Joongie,” you laugh a little. “All I ever want is your attention.”   He glances down, a small blush spreading across his cheeks, but he soon gets himself under control, meeting your gaze again. “Then, we’ll have a movie night this weekend. Just you, me, snacks, a movie, and cuddles. Does that sound nice?”   “Sounds perfect,” you sigh, this time in content, as Hongjoong grins, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips, making your eyelids flutter closed, thoroughly enjoying his kiss, especially since it’s been so long since you’ve had a kiss from Hongjoong.   When he finally pulls away, you grin cheekily, “But, only on one condition.”   “What’s that?” Hongjoong asks, furrowing his eyebrows.   “Wear this outfit,” you smile shyly, eyeing his earrings and his necklace. “You look so hot.”   Hongjoong reddens, taken by surprise, as he averts eye contact, groaning a little in embarrassment, “Babyy.”   “Hm?” you hum, blinking innocently.   “You can’t just say stuff like that,” he responds, still blushing. “Plus, I’m barefaced.”   “And?” you question, quirking an eyebrow. “You look beautiful with or without makeup. Don’t make me convince you again.”   He yelps as you playfully pinch his sides in warning, causing him to jump away from you a little. “Okay, okay.”   With a giggle, you let him grab your hand, pulling you toward his rolling chair. “Wanna sit with me and watch me work for a little while?”   “I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to watch my cute boyfriend work,” you respond cheekily, making Hongjoong groan again, trying to hide his blush.   “Stop, baby,” he pouts at you, making you laugh.   “I love you,” you tell him suddenly, making him turn to look at you. “And I’m sorry I freaked out earlier.”   “Don’t apologize,” Hongjoong responds sternly, grabbing your hand and gently pulling you toward him from his position seated in his chair. “It’s completely my fault that I forgot, and I promise I’ll do better about that. You’re so much more important to me than work. I know I don’t prove it often enough, but it’s true. I hope you know that I love you so, so much.”   “I know, Joongie,” you smile, your hands moving to his head, carefully pushing his soft hair away from his face.

His eyelids flutter closed at the feeling, a small sigh escaping his lips. “And remembering anniversaries isn’t the most important thing in a relationship anyway. You’re the best boyfriend I could ask for, even if you forget important dates.”   Hongjoong’s eyes open at that, though the frown that grows on his face is sleepy as he speaks, “What else have I forgotten?”   “Don’t you remember when you forgot you were meeting my parents a few months ago?” you ask pointedly.   “Oh, right,” Hongjoong mumbles in response. “Well, at least they still liked me.”   “Who wouldn’t like you?” you giggle, letting your nails lightly scratch his scalp, earning another soft sigh from the man in front of you, whose head falls softly against your stomach. “They want to see you again, you know.”   Hongjoong hums, his eyes closed as you speak softly. After a few moments of talking about your family, you continue, “Are you working on a song?”   When you don’t get a response, you glance down, a little confused. “Aw, baby,” you whisper, when you realize he fell asleep against you.

With the hands still buried in Hongjoong’s hair, you gently push his head off of you, enough to see his face, smiling when you notice his glasses are still on.   You gently move his head to lean against your left arm as you carefully remove the glasses before shifting to lean against his desk.   A smile appears on your face when you hear Hongjoong mumbling something. You feel your heartbeat speed up when you realize he’s saying ‘I love you.’   “I love you, too, Joongie,” you respond softly before your eyes find the coffee on the table, and you shake your head, laughing slightly. “The coffee’s gone cold, now, and you didn’t even drink any.”   When you get no response, as expected, you gently rake your fingers through his hair again, this time eliciting a small groan from Hongjoong.   Your eyes widen as you laugh, your slight shaking jostling Hongjoong awake. “What happened?” he asks, his voice low and slurred with sleep.   “Nothing, baby,” you giggle, collecting yourself. “Would you like to move to the couch?” He nods, letting you move away, though he still whines at the loss of warmth.   “You’re being very vocal today, Joong,” you quirk an eyebrow down at him as he moves to stand. “You definitely need sleep.”   “Gotta work,” he replies, but doesn’t resist as you guide him toward the couch.   “You can finish work tomorrow,” you tell him, settling down on the couch and pulling him with you gently. He collapses onto the couch, his face finding your neck as your fingers automatically find his hair again.   You grab the blanket draped over the back of the couch, pulling it over both of you. “Goodnight, Joongie.”   “G’night, baby, and happy anniversary,” he mumbles against you, causing a smile to grow on your face as you tighten your grip, letting out a small sigh of content.   And, as you press a gentle, lingering kiss to the top of his head, you realize that, even though Hongjoong did forget your anniversary, it isn’t even what is really important. What’s important is the love you two share all the time, whether you can be together a lot or not.   “Happy anniversary, Hongjoong.”

[thebearer]

rosé flowing with your chosen family | carmen berzatto x reader|

anyways here's a blurb inspired by my lil friendsgiving i hosted and how i think it would be with carmen bc im delusional in my head lolz

"Carm, look at this for me." You frown, turning the bronzed pumpkin at the center of the table.

"Yeah, one sec," Carmen muttered, turning with the pot in his hand, stirring the whipped potatoes vigorously. "What am I looking at?"

"The table." You tilt your head to the side. "Should I just move the pumpkin? It's too much with the candles, right?" You huff, the tapered candles flickering in their brass holders.

"No, baby, looks nice. Leave it. We can move it if it gets too crowded." Carmen hummed, a tiny curl of his lips had your heart swooning. "Need to go get ready. It's six-thirty."

"I just have to put my clothes on." You wave him off, fixing a napkin so it was centered on the plate, each place card in it's assigned place. "Are you sure you don't need help?"

Carmen shot you a look, rolling his eyes playfully. "No, I got it, alright? Go get ready." He shook his head gently, pushing the asparagus around in the pan.

You scurried behind him, pinching his jean clad ass gently, grinning at how he jumped before pressing a kiss to Carmen's cheek that left him blushing.

Your first Friendsgiving hosted at your place. An apartment a little bigger than Carmen's old one, but still cozy and all your own- the two of you. What better way to spend your first holidays together than to invite your friends over?

You were fussing over the glazed carrots on the counter when Sydney arrived, always early. "Hey," She crept in awkwardly into the kitchen, her head poking around the corner. "I, uh, I brought a dessert."

"Wow, that looks amazing." You grin, taking the dish from her, hugging her briefly in greeting. "What is this?"

"It's-"

"-It's a champagne cake with whipped butter cream frosting and a light raspberry spread." Marcus finished, stepping in behind Sydney, balancing a bottle of wine and his coat. "Don't let her take all the credit. I made it."

"Ok, well, I told you to add the raspberry-"

"-Well, I was the one who made it and added it-"

"-Alright." Carmen huffed, his voice edging on the tone he used at work. "Glad you both are here, alright?. The cake looks amazing."

Marcus whistled dramatically, peering over at the food laid out on the counter tops. "Looks good in here, Chef." He grinned.

"Thanks." Carmen muttered, brushing the rolls with butter, checking the oven again.

"Do you guys want anything to drink?" You ask, pulling the fridge open. "I have rosé or wine or anything?"

"I'll take a glass of rosé." Sydney nodded, shedding off her coat and hanging it over the back of the couch.

"Yeah, better get some now." Carmen snorted lightly. "Before Alicia comes."

"I have her a backup bottle." You smirk, pulling out the bottle proudly. "Alicia and I were watching the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills reunion, right? And she-" The door closed and you turned, your best friend walking in with a huge grin.

"-And she literally brought her own bottle of rosé." You laughed, shaking your head at her.

"I did." Alicia beamed, hugging you tightly. "Carmen, I promise I will not throw up or sob on your couch this time. I'm very stable now." She grinned at Carmen's huff of laughter.

The kitchen was packed, crammed at the table, laughing and swapping stories over the food. Carmen looked at you, the glow of the candles you insisted having to make it feel more homey- they did. How you were grinning, laughing at Fak and Richie bickering, giggling to your own friends and reminiscing.

For once, the holidays didn't feel like a chore. Carmen had been dreading this dinner, not the cooking or the setting up, but having people in his space. He didn't dare say anything, you were too excited and he'd never ruin your glee like that. Still, for him, the holidays were chaotic, everybody tense and scared.

Not here.

Not next to you, surrounded by all your friends.

Carmen finally got why people loved the holidays so much, why it was the most wonderful time of the year and all that. In his tiny apartment, sitting next to the love of his life, your hand holding his gently under the table, thumb swiping over his knuckles, squeezing it lightly when you'd look at him, eyes crinkling in a smile.

[anchoeritic]

dbf joel picking u up from a friends instead of ur dad and he makes it worth ur while.. 😊

"you've got to be kidding me." you should've known what you got yourself into by the second ring of your dad's voicemail. the one night you had no ride home, he wouldn't care to pick up his phone. your last resort was the man you refused to look in the eyes, not anymore. you couldn't keep a straight face around him, barely a look. he didn't even show up to your party a few weeks ago. after your pattern of late night hook-ups, you two agreed to cut it off. that night was awhile ago, but he was your last resort. how else were you going to find your way back home from another town? joel.

turning the curve, he stopped the pick-up truck right in front of the curb you were sitting on. "need me to open the door for you, princess, or are you gonna get your ass up yourself?" his window was rolled halfway down but you saw his face through the windshield. "let's get goin' before it's too late." he was still as handsome as ever; scruffy beard, grey hairs, everything. you could feel his gaze stay on you as you walked over and opened his car door, the wind of his ac hitting you first, his strong cologne was immediately after.

you missed him, there was no denying that. "sorry for the short notice, mr.miller—“ he stopped you by giving you a cold stare, fixing his rear mirror in the process. it’s not like he had something against you, right? you sent him an awkward smile, slouching back into the seat. “we’re back to formal greetings now?” his voice came out raspy, “that’s rich.”

gulping, your face went hot from embarrassment, refusing to say a single word in response. “it’s like i didn’t have you moanin’ for me to fuck you.” he scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “you remember those nights, don’t you? ‘cause i sure as hell do.” he was staring directly at you now, leaning over the cup holder with a smirk on his face.

“you think i’d ever forget, joel?” you nodded your head slowly, looking at him innocently. of course, you remembered those nights. you couldn’t ever forget them. when he had you crying while his head was deep between your legs, licking up your slick, or the times you two would sneak to the bathrooms just to have a quickie, away from the family’s eyes. he was hard to forget. “i think about you every night.” “every night?”

now it was your turn to play your cards, leaning closer into him. “every time i touch myself, you’re always the first thing on my mind. of course, i couldn’t forget.” you whisper, barely brushing your lips over his. a tease, that’s what you always were. he shook his head, the smirk on his face only settled in. “you’re in for a treat now, cupcake.. get in the backseat.”

[atinyfeels]

Ateez: he says something hurtful to you [3]

Masterlist // part one | part two

author's note: don't mind how rusty it is. its been four years, lets write a part three ♡ hope you enjoy!!

Seonghwa:

The sound of the bell dinging made you look up from your book. A young couple was walking through the door of the book store. They were holding hands and smiling as the older man at the front desk greeted them. You sighed and placed the book in your hands back onto the top shelf. This was the first time in 3 weeks you had managed to push yourself out of bed. Your apartment had become a sad lifeless room that you struggled to even call home.

Feeling like you made a mistake, you turn around and began walking towards the exit. As you opened the door, the cold spring air pushed towards you. Your apartment building wasn't far from the bookstore, a mere 5 minute walk. You were almost there when you noticed a man standing outside the door. He had his hood up and his jacket hood over his head, but you could recognize him from a mile a away.

"Seonghwa?" You call out, making the man look up and over at you. It was indeed him, he was dressed in all black and looked as if he hadn't slept. You walked up to him and stared at him for a moment before speaking again. "Do you want to come inside?"

He didn't verbally say anything, instead he only nodded yes. You opened the door to the building and walked up the stairs towards your apartment on the 3rd floor. When you both walked inside, you closed the door behind you and looked at him. He was scanning around the room, as if he was looking for something he had forgotten.

"What are you doing here, Seonghwa?" You asked, making him pause and look up at you.

"I think I forgot something," his words sounding more like a question.

You furrowed your eyebrows and crossed your arms over your chest. It had been 3 weeks since you seen him, what could he have forgotten this late? "Do you know what it is? If it shows up, I can drop it off another day."

He shook his head. "The thing is, I didn't forget anything."

"What do you-" he cuts you off, "I've been thinking of things to say, excuses that would make me come back here. Come back to see you. But the only thing I could think of was, I messed up. These past 3 weeks have been torture without you."

You blinked a few times, trying to make sense of what he was trying to say. "But you said...you said you didn't love me anymore. You were the one who packed up your things and left me."

"I-I know. I don't know what I was thinking at the time. The group was at a high popularity stage and we weren't seeing each other so often. You & I barely spoke and at the time I thought, maybe that's what I wanted. But when I told you I didn't love you and I saw the look on your face, I knew it wasn't what I wanted. But I couldn't take it back."

You swallowed hard, trying to fight the tears that you didn't even realize were appearing. "So what are you trying to say?"

"I don't want to be apart from you. I want to be your boyfriend, I want to stay by your side even when it gets rough. I want to make up for how much I hurt you during these past few weeks. Please, Y/N, let me come home."

Clearing your throat you continued to stare at him. "You're going to have a lot to make up for."

"I know," he says stepping forward and pulling you into a tight embrace.

Hongjoong:

You opened your front door to find a delivery driver standing there with a bouquet and a tablet.

"Y/N?" he asks, making you nod as before you sign your name on the tablet. "Have a nice day."

Before you even responded, he started making his way down the hall. Sighing, you closed the door behind you and grabbed the note that was attached to the vase. "I'm really sorry." You put the card back onto the holder and walked into the dining room. Ten other bouquets were covering your table, all of them with different messages, all from the same person. You placed the bouquet down on the table before pulling your phone out and dialing your boyfriend's number.

It didn't take him long to answer with an out of breath, "hello?"

Mentally, you smacked yourself in the face. "You must be a practice, I'll call you later."

"NO!" He shouts before you even get a chance to pull the phone away from your ear. "We were just about to take a break so you called at a good time."

For some reason, you felt as if that was a lie but you kept it to yourself. "I'm just calling to ask you when you're going to stop sending me endless amounts of flowers? My dining table is running out of room at this point."

"So you got my flowers!" He said in a more cheerful tone, "Did you like them?"

You sigh running your finger along one of the petals, "I'm not really a roses type of person. But they are pretty."

"Really? I'll have to change the flowers. Maybe I should've gone with a variety instead of all the same flower," he rambled, mostly talking to himself.

"Joong," you say, cutting him off. "You have to stop sending me flowers, I don't have room for them."

"I want to make up for the things I said the other day. They were hurtful and I was putting myself before you." He tells you, his tone changing to a more serious tone.

"I was in the wrong too," you confess, finally admitting to yourself that he wasn't the only one in the wrong in this situation. "I was being petty when I called Yeosang instead of you. I really wanted to tell you but I was being too stubborn about our fight. I'm sorry for how I treated you."

"Does this mean I can come home now?"

You chuckle and roll your eyes, "you were always allowed to come back home."

Yunho:

"She's my girl, isn't she?" San says loudly, laughing as he and Wooyoung go over what was said in your classroom.

You were blushing furiously as Yunho was looking down at his drink, his cheeks flushed as well. The two of you were aware of how dramatic your altercation with the girls in your class. It was as if it was something straight out of a teen show.

"Honestly, we should direct a movie for it!" Wooyoung cheered as San agreed.

"It will be a huge hit amongst romance fans," San agreed before taking a drink of his water. "Maybe we can have IU play as Y/N."

"Alright they get it," Seonghwa said, making the two boys quiet down and change the topic. Seonghwa looked over at you as you began scooping a piece of cake onto your fork. "We're happy you were able to join us, Yunho has talked about you a lot."

Your head shot up towards Yunho who was looking at Seonghwa with wide eyes. You could tell he was silently cursing at the older member in his head. "Well, I'm glad I was able to join," you say, smiling back at Yunho.

After parting ways with Yunho's friends, Yunho insisted on walking you home. The two of you were walking in silence, neither of you able to think of something to talk about.

"So," you blurt out, making him look down at you. "Why did you call me pathetic?" You swallowed hard, this wasn't what you wanted to talk about. But you weren't going to be okay without talking about it.

Yunho stayed silent for a moment, trying to find the words. "For years, I had this image of me as this guy who had multiple girls on his arm and couldn't keep a stable relationship. But that's not true, I've never been the type to play with girls. I've never done random hookups and honestly girls don't confess to me. Everyone just made up this person in their head and I kind of went along with it."

You looked up at him as he brushed his fingers through his hair. He let out a sigh and continued. "But when I first met you, you didn't pay attention to me. You didn't care about the rumors circling around me. And then when I saw the letter with my name on it, I..I don't know. Maybe I got worried you started seeing me like everyone else did. My ego got ahead of me and I spoke without even thinking about it. I've never thought of you as anything, pathetic. And I am really sorry for saying those things to you."

You give him a small smile and grab his hand with yours. "This is the reason why I fell for you. I knew you weren't the guy everyone expected you to be, you're much more than that."

Yeosang:

It felt like you had been walking for hours until you had finally reached your place. Your heart was aching with how much it had gone through in just one day. "You're so goddamn annoying." "I didn't know how to let you down gently." You felt like he saw you as a joke, like someone in his shoes couldn't possibly be with you. You've never felt so down on yourself until today.

You wiped the tears off your face and made your way into the bathroom. Reaching down, you started the water in the tub and looked at yourself in the mirror. Your mascara was visibly on your cheeks, your face red from rushing home.

Slipping your fingers under the hem of your shirt about to take it off when there was a buzz at the front door. You sighed and turned off the bath water before making your way out of the bathroom. Walking through the living room and up to the door, you placed your hand on the knob before pushing it open. Yeosang stood before you, out of breath and looking very distraught.

"What, Yeosang?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. For the first time, you didn't care how you looked in front of him. You didn't bother attempting to fix the makeup on your cheeks or brushing your hair back with your fingers.

"I care about you," he starts, "I care about you a lot. And I know right now, in this moment it's not the romantic feeling you feel. But I am attracted to you, Y/N. But I'm not ready for any kind of relationship and I don't want to give you any kind of false hope. I didn't mean to call you annoying, you could never annoy me. I should have been more mature and told you how I originally feeling instead of insulting you and giving you false hope."

"You hurt me, Yeosang," you choked out, feeling the tears build up once more. "I apologize for overwhelming affection I showed. I should've thought before doing so. But you made me feel so awful, and I understand that you don't want a relationship but there's literally any other way we could've handled this."

He nodded in agreement, "I agree. And I'm really sorry for how I treated you. If one day, we can fix this, I really hope I can make it up to you."

"Me too. Goodnight, Yeosang." With that you closed the door and pressed your back to the wall with a sigh

❀ 6 months later ❀

You anxiously paced back and forth in your living room. Twiddling with your thumbs as you waited for buzzer. When the sound finally happened, you took a deep breath and opened the door. Yeosang appeared in front of you with a smile on his face, holding a flower in his hand for you.

"You look amazing," he tells you, handing you the flower and planting a kiss on your cheek. "So, are you ready for our date?"

You smiled back at him, "absolutely."

San:

Your chest was rising fast as your laid down the mat. You had just finished another work out with San, but now you were beginning to regret your life choices. When San told you he'd help you, you didn't realize he was going to make your whole body feel like jelo.

San rushed up to you with a smile on his face, "How was it? Did you feel the burn? Did you enjoy the workout? I was thinking next time, we can add more reps, maybe a little more cardio."

Oh how you wanted to throw this man out a window. You squinted your eyes at him, "Go away."

He laughed and sat down beside you, "You're so cute, you know that?"

Wincing at the pain, you pushed yourself up and sat beside him. "There's nothing cute about making your partner suffer, San. I'm never coming with you again. And if I do, I'm definitely not training with you."

San leaned over and gave you a kiss on the head, completely ignoring how damp your hair was. "How about we get out of here and grab some snacks for a movie night?"

You quickly looked up at him with hopeful eyes, "ice cream too?"

He laughed and nodded, "ice cream too."

Excitedly, you got up and held your hand out for him. "Come on, I need to shower after this."

"Yeah, you really do smell pretty bad," he joked as you helped him up.

You eyes widened as you let go of his hand, making him fall back onto the floor with a thud. "Says the one who smells like a swamp monster."

"Hey!" He called after you as you left him alone and went towards the locker rooms.

Mingi:

You smirked at yourself in the mirror as you stared at yourself in the mirror. The tight red dress was going to get you in trouble and you were hoping it would. The more you thought of Mingi getting jealous the more you found yourself being attracted to him. Tonight there was a party that was being thrown for another idols birthday.

You were showing up later than the Ateez members, but you decided to go ahead without them and with a group of girls instead. When you arrived to the party, you hadn't realized how packed the party was going to be. Mingi was friends with many, but you never thought that you'd be in a room with this many people before. You made your way over to a table where a couple of Stray Kids members were sitting.

"Changbin!" You said cheerfully, he stood up and greeted you with a hug while Felix gave you a polite nod. You took a seat beside Changbin and looked around the room. "Have you guys been here long?"

Changbin shook his head. "We just got here maybe ten minutes before you. You didn't come with Mingi?"

"No, they said they were going to be a little later than me so I came with others."

The three of you stayed sitting down, talking and making jokes when you felt someone tap your shoulder. Looking up, you find Mingi his eyes piercing down into yours. Oh, he was not happy.

"Sorry guys, but I've got to take this one home, she's got a long day tomorrow," Mingi tells the other two, not even looking at them.

Mingi grabbed a hold of your hand and helped you to your feet before making his way towards the door. You could overhear Felix say, 'Long day tomorrow or long night tonight?'. Mingi guided your way out the door before the two of you were on the sidewalk. He rose his hand, waving towards a taxi driver that was headed in your direction.

When the taxi stopped, Mingi opened the door for you and whispered in your ear. "You're aware what you did, yes?"

Your body shivered at his words as you nodded, feeling a bit excited. "I know."

"Good, get in."

You slide into the car and Mingi follows after you. He tells the driver your apartment complex as he places his hand on your knee. The thought you having an endless night made your cheeks flush. You couldn't wait to get home.

Wooyoung:

"What are friends for?"

For some reason, for the first time, you didn't like the sound of those words coming from him. As you continued allow Wooyoung to sweet talk the sponsors, you found yourself stealing glances at him every chance you could.

You were staring at him for a moment when you felt a hand touch your arm. Looking up, a woman old enough to be your grandmother was giving you a warm smile.

"You must really love him," she says, cutting you off guard.

"O-Oh, we aren't dating. We're just friends, we're really close and I didn't want to be here alone," you explain, giving her a soft smile.

She shakes her head, not believing a word you say. "You wouldn't look at someone that way, unless you were in love. And whether you realize it now or not, you are in love with him. I looked at someone like that before."

"Your partner?"

Her smile fades a little before she brings it back. "No, the person I was in love with never found out. They were the right person, but the wrong time. If you're in love with this man, you should tell him. Before it's too late."

"Y/N." The sound of Wooyoung's voice made you turn around to find him looking at you. "Are you ready to go? I think this party is starting to become a bummer." You turn back to look at the woman, but you don't find her anywhere in sight. "Y/N? What are you looking for?"

Looking back up at Wooyoung, you shake your head. "N-Nothing. I'm ready to go."

Before waiting for a response, you make your way towards the exit. Wooyoung followed behind quickly, calling your name as you followed you to the lobby and outside the building.

"Y/N!" He yells once more, making you stop but you didn't turn around. "What happened in there? What's wrong?"

Your head was flooded with so many thoughts. Your heart racing of the thought that you could possibly be an item with Wooyoung. Was that something you wanted? You were so comfortable around him, the thought of being intimate with him gave you butterflies in your stomach. Turning around, you look at the very confused Wooyoung.

"Y/N?"

"I can't be friends with you, Wooyoung." You didn't even think before you blurted it out. Your hands were shaking with how anxious you were.

Wooyoung looked at your shocked and then became sad, "Is it because of what I said earlier? I promise you, you are an amazing person. You're gorgeous, fantastic and-"

You cut him off, "I think I'm in love with you!"

You silently cursed at yourself as the two of you went silent. You couldn't bare to look at him, you didn't want to know what look was on his face. The words came out without you thinking about it. Maybe you didn't have to think about it. You were definitely in love with Wooyoung.

"Want me to help you figure it out?" He asks, his voice suddenly much closer now. He was standing right in front you, without you even noticing that he moved.

"W-What-" was all you managed to get out before Wooyoung lifted your head up with his fingers. Without hesitation, he pressed his lips onto yours. Your stomach felt like it was doing flips as you places your hands on his hips.

Once you pulled away, he looked down at you and licked his lips. "I've been in love with you this whole time."

"You have?" You say, sounding more like whisper.

He nods, "Did that help you figure it out?"

"I-I'm not sure, can we do it again? Maybe a little longer, I didn't get a good read." Wooyoung let out of laugh before he nods and presses his lips onto yours once more.

Jongho:

You gripped onto the plastic bags that contained 8 lunch boxes. Today was the first day you were going back to the practice room since you talked to Jongho a couple days ago. You felt more nervous than you ever had. The thought of seeing Jongho again, knowing he had feelings for you, made your stomach do flips.

Knocking on the door, you pushed it opened. "I brought food!" Looking up, you noticed how dark the practice room was. "Hello? I could've sworn Seonghwa told me they were here today."

You flipped on the lights and noticed a table in the center of the room with a bouquet of flowers sitting in the middle. Setting the bags on the floor, you walked up to the table and read the note that was there.

"Will you do the honor of being my girlfriend? P.S turn around."

Turning around, you find Jongho standing by the door. His cheeks were already flush as he made his way over to you.

"You did all of this?" you asked, meeting him halfway.

Shyly, he nodded. "I didn't want a big grand gesture but you deserved something a little more than that." You smiled at him, which made him return it. "So what do you think?"

"I'd love to be your girlfriend!" You say, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into a hug.

A loud applause made you pull away and find the rest of the members cheering. Your brother looked at you and gave you the thumbs up, making you blush.

"Well now that that's settled, can we eat now?" San whined, already looking through the bags to find his box.

You and Jongho laughed and walked over, helping everyone sort out their boxes. The 9 of you sat in a circle, you sitting in the middle of Jongho & Seonghwa.

"So where are you going for your first date?" Wooyoung asked, making everyone look over at Jongho.

Jongho shook his head, "I'm not telling any of you." Seonghwa cleared his throat and looked over at him. "Oh right, we're going to Lotte World." The group laughs as Seonghwa nods, approving the choice.

"I can't wait," you say to Jongho, giving him an excited smile before he smiles back at you.

[plumelume]

𖹭. ˎgosh, I'm in love w/ you. ₊

tw : nothing ?

˙ . ꒷. word counts : 5842 .𑁤

ft : lovetales fic(?), block tales au by @niko-aspin !!

! note : im very grateful to be a part of this au and being the one to write for it as well !! though im not the best at it and it may come off messy.. either way big thanks to @fandoms-in-jellyfish-brain for the idea (⁠ノ⁠^⁠_⁠^⁠)⁠ノ

! ! !

— PROLOGUE: starting from the zero —

“Now what am I supposed to do for I've finished my adventure?”

The end has come to greet you, you are hesitant to embrace it, you wonder holding the sword which accompanied you since forever leveled your head. The metal on its blade reflects your figure, you don't recognize yourself. Do you?

“What am I going to chase after?”

Your goal is fulfilled, but what about you? Foolishly neglected your emotions to chase after something so meaningless. You deserve more than just this, you stated.

The deafening silent inner your head blocks out all sounds from the outside world, leaving only the sound of your sword clashes against the cold ground. You walk towards nothingness, trying to once again, find a life purpose of your existence.

As if the nonexistent gods hear your unspoken plea, a strange card comes within your sight. Successfully stopped your tracks as soon as it appeared, you stood there in the slightest surprise. Is it your eroded memories that's playing with you or the card was just there..? Even if so, it seems intentional considering how it's just, bare in the wild. In the midst of nowhere, it invites you to come and take a closer look, as if it was.. Fate..?

Still uncertain with the beholding sight, you prolonged your fixed gaze on the glitching item. It waits there,waiting specifically. “Cute.” In spite of your little compliment, the tone you held says otherwise, as though your words held no meanings. You slumped your tired body nearing the floating card.

You eventually obtain the card, Inspecting it from this side to another, struggling to figure out the use of it. Meeting the eye alone, you can see how differ it is from any other heart cards, the signature red was replaced with pink. Outstands each and every card you ever got a hold of.

What an intriguing little thing, you thrived.

A smile tugged on your lips upon receiving such a gift from the unknown, you know little to no information about this unique card or whatsoever. But to compare with the former danger you’ve faced, this is far tame from what you experienced. Why should you back up now?

“You’ll be in great use.” You said to it as if it has a soul, equipping the card among your collection. It instantly painted the surrounding scenery with a soft pink hue, the sky itself dressed in a rosy attire. Leaving youur mouth agape as you watch things pinken.

You were fascinated, witnessing a new canvas come into your sight. Before any further feelings emerged, the pain took over. Aches altogether tormenting your poor head, make you — the oh so powerful holder writhe in agony, fall onto the land beneath. You’re still a fool, despite everything.

With your finite limitations being pushed all over, you left no choice but to succumb to the immense pain causing through your head. Drifted away into a deep slumber.

A pitiful end. Or not.

“Hey! Wake up.. Get up baka!” A faint voice calls out to you..

“HWUAH—” You hurriedly sit up from where you lay after regaining consciousness, chest heaving with heavy huffs. Your brain couldn't register anything yet, you clutched on the sheet on your sides. Too many thoughts clump into one, unknowingly give the nearby penguin a scare.

Gather some bits of consciousness, you rub all over your eyes, clearing your vision aggressively like you’ve had a nightmare. Amid the blurry effect, you caught a glimpse of.. Something pink and round. Your internal thoughts then being broken by the creature’s voice. “Did you have a good nap?” Still in a daze, you give no motion to any answers.

“Do you not hear what I said!?” A rocket launcher enters your vision, that's when you’re all woke. This creature.. Was none other than Terry. You nod your head vigorously without another thought, “Yes— I did have a good nap—” A hurried response withdraws from your mouth. He watches you stumble on your wobbly feet then fall onto the floor, Terry is slightly taken aback by your sudden action. But nonetheless, he’s still angry at you.

You get up from your spot with a grunt, “Ugh.” Seeing you picking yourself up so slowly fueled into his impatience, about to throw another fits of screams. Fortunately, you’ve gotten up in time. “The AUDACITY of people these days.. You think you can just sleep anywhere you want, baka??” The infuriated penguin made no effort in hiding his frustrations.

It happens again. You are back here without the remnants of your previous success. You stare in horror, taking no time to dash out of Terry’s room. Surprised him in the process, he’s glad that he didn’t need to hear your nonsense though. Recovering from the brief panic, you finally have some time to capture the current situation.

You — equipped with a card, pink envelope the entire world, headaches rush, and last but not least, a new start. You are hesitant, you really couldn’t handle another journey like this, you’d be mentally drained foremost. You open the menu, as expected, nothing. Only the superball, some few cards and.. Hold on — A new card randomly popped up in your inventory.

“Flirt..?” You deadpanned at the name, is this some new mechanic of the game..? Either way, you’re hella confused. Only time could tell the use of this card. Glanced at the inventory, that damned card remains there, you quickly try to unequip it but your efforts are gone in vain. After retrying for over plenty of times, you gave up and sighed in defeat.You’re stuck with it like glues now.

Right, what were you supposed to do again.. You darted your eyes towards the hallway of the hotel, puzzled for a moment, “Got it.” Muttering to yourself, you begrudgingly walk to the receptionist outside with great disinterest. Questions flooded your mind, thoughts landed on your short encounter with Terry, from how he appears and — Wait. Didn't he refer to you as ‘baka’? The infamous word?? You cringed hard.

“Geez, what's wrong with this world?”

END OF PROLOGUE !! Style and storyline might change as it progresses, this is my first so I might not get things right (⁠｡⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠)

[55sturn]

hi, may i please request a fic abt Chris adopting a little animal? any kind of animal is fine. thank you

✮ WELCOME HOME!

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis: in which chris and his girlfriend, y/n, decided to adopt a cat from a nearby pet

warnings: none aside from swearing! total fluff!

THIRD PERSON POV

chris and y/n had began to feel like their apartment was rather…empty. it was just the two of them for the most part, side from the revolving door of friends and family that were constantly in and out.

but when the sky was dusted with specks of dusk and nightfall, the stars starting peak through, and it was just the two of them cuddled up on the couch, it felt lonely. like something was missing.

so when y/n proposed the idea of getting a pet, chris was ecstatic. and so began the hunt for the perfect pet for the two of them. they wanted one that fit their personalities and dynamic, although they’d be completely content with a senior pet too, making a happy home for the animal to live the rest of its life in.

as the couple walked toward the shelters door, the two of them were sort of nervous but ultimately excited. y/n was cherishing the domesticity of it all. there was something about adopting a pet with the person you love that felt so incredibly warm and comfortable.

“i want an orange cat.” chris giggled, swinging his and y/n’s interlocked hands between their bodies.

“of course you do, i wouldn’t expect you to want any other type of cat or pet. well maybe i’d expect you to want something insane like a baby rhino or a full grown giraffe.” y/n laughed, watching as chris’ eye sparkled with mischief at the idea of having an unusual pet.

“a baby rhino as a pet would be sick as fuck. completely fucked up but sick as fuck as like a guard animal or whatever.” chris joked as they reached the front entrance.

“i would be terrified of it.” she giggled, walking through the door as chris held it open for her, they were happily greeted by an older dog that wandered around the front.

the two sat with him, petting him and kissing his head as chris talked about how much the older dog made him miss trevor who was back home with his parents.

the two walked through the aisles of the shelter, soon approaching the door that led to the kennel area. chris pulled it open, walking through and holding it open for y/n before lacing his fingers through hers.

“do you think a dog would be too high maintenance for us right now?” y/n hummed, her head resting against chris’ biceps as they stood and watched the dogs sit excitedly in their kennels.

“yeah i think so, i think if we were to get a dog, it’d have to be a more chill breed or an older dog that just needs love and attention y’know?”

“yeah.”

they continued their walk-through, interacting with as many of the dogs as they could before turning and following the walkway to the section where the cats were kept. as they meandered through, laughing as some of the cats asked for their attention while others looked at them, cocked their heads before going back to whatever they were doing.

y/n was about to turn back to the dogs, thinking they would get away with an older one, when an orange cat meowed and stuck its paw through the metal gate. crouching down she peered into the kennel, finding the six month old kitten excitedly clawing at the gate.

“chris come here.” y/n giggled, sticking her finger through one of the spaces and watching as the kitten nuzzled her finger.

“oh my god he’s so cute.” chris cooed, copying his girlfriend’s actions and petting the cat. the two played with the kitten through the gate until a worker stumbled across them.

“would you guys like to take him out of his kennel?”

“we were actually wondering if we could adopt him?”

“yeah, of course! i’ll just take him out of the kennel so you can hold him and we’ll bring him up to the front!” the lady smiled, handing the couple the kitten before grabbing his registration card out the holder underneath the kennel.

chris smiled as he watch his girlfriend cradle the kitten as if it were a human baby, laughing as she cooed and whispered at him, petting his head, watching as the kitten began loudly purring as she scratched beneath his chin.

“what do you wanna name him?” chris hummed against the side of her head as he slung his arm over her shoulders, the two of them following lazily behind the worker as she led them toward the front counter.

“torn between gizmo and charlie.”

“gizmo’s kind of cute and charlie is lowkey basic.” chris laughed making y/n roll her eyes as she set gizmo down on the front counter, while the worker grabbed the couple a bed? a set of dishes, a pink collar which made y/n laugh, and a few toys along with a bag of food.

after paying certain fees and for the few supplies that didn’t come free with the adoption, the couple walked out with the newest addition to their family. gizmo sat calmly in y/n’s lap as she looped the breakaway collar around his neck after adjusting it to the proper size. chris smiled as y/n happily fussed over the tiny baby sitting in her lap.

as the two brought their cat up to their apartment, y/n sighed and smiled as she spoke,

“welcome home giz!”

taglist: @im-a-matt-girl @dylsdunbar @soursturniolo @4sturns @sturnsclutter @spencerstits @meanttomeet @bluesturniolo333 @graciereid @abbie13sworld @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @mylifeisevenstranger @bethsturn @ifilwtmfc @verosivy

© 55STURN 2023 [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]

[whoopsyeahokay]

Alphabet Soup

summary: prompt fill. the journey of a clandestine love affair at several stages because Wally Clark craves what he can't have and refuses to keep his hands to himself. and you live for it.

(AN: this'll be a multiple-oneshots deal—out of order—with daily additions until it's complete.)

🛎️prompt - Wally Clark NSFW alphabet.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut. AU - modern setting. romanticized toxic behavior. grey!Wally Clark. cheating. egregious use of the word 'baby'.

bon reading, frens

___________________________🧿

Alphabet Soup - P

P is for the personalized pleasure Wally loves to dote on you. He's a giver like that. What makes you happy makes him happy and he never holds back once he has you alone. Wants to treat his pretty little passenger princess right.

And, damn, he can't hold back when it comes to you. Has to stop at Starbucks and grab your favorite drink before he parks up the street, away from prying eyes. There's a gift in the backseat; something that caught his eye at the mall on Tuesday when he and the boys went to the arcade. Spent his whole paycheck from Reggie's Auto Repair on it without regret.

He can't wait to see you in it. Can't wait to get his hands and mouth all over you, eat you out through the lace, grip the ribbon in a tight fist to deepen the curve of your spine as he fucks in to you.

You make such a beautiful picture under him.

Wally waits, leaning on the hood of his dad's convertible, and greets you with a lopsided smile when you finally sashay up to him, gorgeous, draped in chiffon his favorite color. He drags you into him with his hands on your ass and pins you against him so you'll never get away. Kisses you deep and dirty until he has to stop before he bends you over the nose of the car and treats your neighbors to a show.

He parts with a sweet peck to your lips, opens the door for you, and winks when you notice your drink in the cup holder.

Forty minutes later, Wally's got one hand on the wheel, the other two-fingers deep inside you, pumping tempo to the music as the car charges down a country backroad. Wind whipping your hair, mouth open in pleasure as you pant for more, oh God, Wally, don't stop.

"S'that good, baby?" He says, slow, dark with promise, "Like it when I get you wet like that?"

He's hard, excited for the reward he's planned for himself after he makes you cum. Park in the trees near Castor Lake, tear open the crotch of those cute, baby-doll briefs you opted for, and sink into you from below as he sits like a king in the driver's seat.

And then he'll dress you up, wrap you in the violet lace and ribbon he bought for you, and play out every fantasy he had when he slipped the cashier his credit card.

🧿___________________________

also available on AO3!

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #21] Doing The 'Right' Thing

warnings: christmas is upon us! secret santa, yay!! jiyeong, booo! no major warnings! the arrival of b's bird hehe. some of my fave jimin parts are in this lol (he's one of my faves)

soundtrack: touch - keshi

wc: 10.1k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

An emptiness echoes down your apartment corridor, dim lights flickering above you, as you make your way home after practically running away from Jeongguk's bed.

A new bulb has been needed for a couple of weeks now, but your landlord doesn't care enough to change it. As long as the electricity runs and the water flows through taps, he thinks all is fair. Sure, you could change it - but Danbi gives you a firm 'why on earth would you do that?' every single time you suggest it.

It's for this reason - the shrouded darkness and the bleary hungover eyes - that you almost think you're seeing things as you notice an object by your apartment door.

A bouquet. White roses. An easy dozen, of which you'll undoubtedly count as soon as you're close enough. The stems are emerald green, fresh and perfectly picked to construct the most beautiful arrangement you think you've ever seen.

Poised and pristine, they look out of place in your apartment block - but you know they'll look right at home on your kitchen counter in the vase Danbi stole from her family home a couple of holiday seasons ago (you'd just been using a pint glass beforehand (again, stolen by Danbi's nimble fingers, just from your local pub instead of her mother's kitchen cupboard)).

You tell yourself it's strange. Let your head whisper little lies as white as the rose petals, telling you that you can't imagine who'd be sending either of you flowers. Perhaps Tae for Danbi? A secret admirer?

But you know. You know who picked them out, who sent them directly to your door. You know who always chose the black and white design of the minimalist greeting card wedged in between the flowers.

You know, because you got these flowers a week after your first date with him . Got them after the fifth date, just because. You got them on your birthday. Valentines. First anniversary.

You got them, again, after that one argument when you'd sworn down he tasted like latex, which was strange, because protection had been off the cards for months by that point. You trusted him.

The last time you got them was a week after the breakup. Again, just because. Just so you knew he was thinking of you. Asshole .

And so you don't check the card. Just pick up the pot they're prettily displayed in, and type your door code in with a sigh. You lean your shoulder against the heavy steel to open it up, a little exhausted by the events of the night and the emotional labour you know looking at those flowers will have on you.

They're too pretty to throw away, mind you - and when you look at Danbi's mother's vase, you're sad to see the flowers given to you by Jeongguk in the sanctuary of his favourite cafe are now withered and pathetic. The water has all but evaporated away, and rogue leaves lay by the base of their glass holder. Shame.

What once were the most fantastic wild blooms are now skeletons of their former selves.

S'what you get for tearing the stems from their life source. How can you ever expect them to thrive in hostile conditions?

And so Jins's roses will take pride of place in your home, and you'll pretend not to care.

They'll replace what was left to wither by Jeongguk, and you'll ignore the fact it was you who should have tried harder to keep them alive.

Congratulations on the art show. Proud to see your progression. Sorry I couldn't be there. J x reads his calling card - and as much as you know you should really tear it up and feed it to the recycling bin, you can't bring yourself to. It's stuck on the fridge beneath a 'Welcome to Vietnam' magnet purchased in the airport during a layover, not because you've ever actually visited the country.

It'll stay there for months. Danbi won't think to discard it, and you'll forget that you ever put it there.

In fact, you don't notice it again until a few weeks later as you're rushing around, running late for dinner, grabbing a bottle of fizz from the fridge.

The flowers have all dried up now, tossed in the trash, and the vase is empty. They lasted not even a week before they began to wilt. Typical of Seokjin, you had supposed at the time. Permanence isn't his thing.

Slamming the fridge door shut, you don't have a chance to even consider getting rid of the note - but you do think that you should, and that's something at least. It's not like you've heard from him since that night.

Hell, you've barely heard from Jeongguk.

Little messages here and there have been exchanged, but nothing substantial. Nothing that addresses the night you spent in his bed. In fact, you're pretty sure he's been spending his nights in someone else's bed recently.

It's not an unfathomable thought to have. It's been about a month since you set up his blind date, and Jiyeong is apparently doing the hardest soft launch known to man. It's not even subtle at this point. Her Instagram stories - of which constantly seem to be updating - are littered with the essence of Jeongguk.

Mugs from the ceramic painting place were the first clue. A selfie of her in his jacket, the second. The third was a blurry club photo of a hand you wished you didn't recognise so well loosely holding onto hers in the midst of a crowd. You wonder if it was taken on the night of the art show, or if they've been clubbing together since that night, just the two of them.

You forget the fourth, and the fifth, and the sixth, and now there's been so many damn stories you've lost count. Just know that the most recent one was a mirror selfie from the gym, carefully cropped so that the guy who had been spotting her was out of frame - but his tattooed arm? Yeah . She'd left that in.

You wonder whose company he prefers in the gym, and know that it's hers. At least that way he can actually properly work out. You're aware he'll get glares of jealousy from the gym bros who have a thing for Jiyeong, unlike the confused stares of the same gym bros who had wondered why the fuck a muscle rat like Jeongguk was wasting time on cardio with a girl who preferred sitting on a stationary treadmill rather than running on it.

Danbi had laughed at your scowl when you stumbled across the story a few days ago. Told you to be careful. "If the wind changes, your face will get stuck like that."

Good , you thought. Maybe it should. Then Jeongguk would permanently be reminded of how insufferable you find this whole situation.

You couldn't care less about the fact he's dating. Couldn't care less for the fact he's dating her - hell, you'd been the one to set it up! What is bothering you is how quiet he's been. It feels like you've barely spoken to him all month - but rational thinking seems to go out of the window when it comes to him.

See, the thing, Jeongguk's silence? His avoidance of you?

It doesn't exist.

In your head, maybe, but not in reality. You're orchestrating some great loss for no good reason.

There's been no real change to how he communicates with you. He still messages you just as much. He'd sent you a tinyURL link just the day before just to disguise what he was really sending you - the breadfish website. It was like being rickrolled in the big year of 2022. Made you smile like a fucking idiot behind the desk of the art cafe. Hobi had looked at you like you had three heads when the song echoed into the room.

But you simply added a laugh reaction emoji to Jeongguk's message and locked your phone as if it hadn't made your day.

You're the one avoiding him .

And - fucking hell - you'd only seen him four days ago! Had gone for a post-gym coffee walk. Had spoken about everything - the science of pollination, your favourite supermarkets (Homeplus reigned supreme), the best song of 2009 (which had ended in the promise of a noraebang battle, because you couldn't decide between fireflies (even though Jeongguk couldn't remember owlcity's name) or good girls go bad (which also resulted in you explaining Gossip Girl lore he never asked for)) - and anything... everything and anything... apart from Jiyeong. You didn't mention her. Nor did he.

It's not like you've mentioned sharing a bed with him that one night either, so avoiding uncomfortable topics isn't entirely unheard of.

Thing is, you've both been pretending like things are absolutely normal. Still grab coffee together, still send each other dumb raccoon memes, still look for each other on Friday nights in the dark shadows of Dionysus.

The way you see it, if you don't make a big deal of things, they don't have to be a big deal. You've downplayed it all. Pretended like there hasn't been a weight on your chest since you left his apartment that morning.

That's one difference, you guess. You've not returned to his since.

That's what you're really missing; the sanctuary nurtured with Jeongguk in the confines of his room. Home away from home. 'The kids'.

But your head's all frazzled, and you've been trying not to focus on it too much. Just continue lying to yourself, as if an Oscar is dependent on your performance. You've gotten so good at acting as if you're happy with the current set up, you're managing to fool everyone - including yourself.

Hurrying down the stairs of your apartment, you know that your acting skills have to be on top form tonight. Can't be letting the pesky mask slip. Have worn extra glitter to keep it in place.

Jimin waits by the end of your road, engine running, eyes shamelessly on you as you head up the street towards him.

It's late December, and the shop windows are full of well-wishes for the upcoming festivities and special offers for last-minute gifts.

In your bag, you're carrying a bottle of whisky for Yoongi and a luxury bath bomb set for Seoyeon. You've no idea if the whisky is any good, but it was on the top shelf, so you're hoping it's alright. As for the bath bombs, they're your favourite (and will leave Seoyeon with a sheen of your signature glitter all over her skin afterwards), so you're not so worried about them.

The presents are more to say 'thank you' for hosting the Christmas Eve dinner, and less so intended to be actual gifts. As a rule, to make life a little easier for everyone, Secret Santa had been organised a few weeks prior. No other gifts allowed - but not taking something for the hosts felt wrong.

Seoyeon had sorted everything out for Secret Santa, so it really had been stress-free.

Yours (intended for Jimin) has been wrapped for the best part of a week and is ready to go. It sits snug in your bag, between Yoongi's whisky and your own bottle of vodka - it is Christmas, after all. The bottle of fizz you're holding by the neck? A little extra bit of festive liquid luck.

"Alright?" Jimin greets you with a smile as you pop open the passenger door and slip in beside him. Your bag is popped in the footwell, but you hold onto the prosecco.

"Happy Christmas," you smile - then glance up to check he hasn't put mistletoe above the handbrake. It's all clear. Surprisingly .

"What?" He asks, noticing the way your eyes dart around, but you dismiss his question.

"Just raring to go," you lie - and Jimin can see right through it. Doesn't care too much to ask any further.

He merges into oncoming traffic with ease. He's a smooth driver. Not as fast as Jeongguk, but just as competent. You know you shouldn't compare - but how can you not?

It was supposed to be Jeongguk giving you a lift to The Mins.

Was supposed to be him playing cheesy Christmas tunes and demanding you duet with him for the entire journey.

Was supposed to be him who stopped at a Mcdonald's drive-thru, 'cause he's addicted to the limited edition festive sauce that comes with the cheese bites.

Was supposed to be him who stopped in a side lane just down the road from Yoongi's place, so he could air his car out and make sure you both didn't smell like Maccies, knowing full well The Mins would be cooking up a storm.

Was supposed to be him .

And yet you're having to rely on Jimin - who you haven't seen since you last left his bedroom - to ferry you to Christmas Eve dinner.

It's not that you aren't grateful. Danbi is visiting family, and Hoseok always hangs out with his old school friends on Christmas eve, so you've been looking forward to this for weeks. It's always nice to be surrounded by people you care about, especially at this time of year. Far better than being alone.

"Spoken to Gguk today?" Jimin asks before he even bothers with other formalities. Knows that things have been a little... difficult, lately. Has noticed how antsy Jeongguk has been around the apartment. Short tempered. Impatient. Isn't sure if it's you or Jiyeong making him like this. Maybe both.

You're quiet for a moment as you wait for your phone to connect to his car speaker system. Are both amused and slightly disgusted by the name choice for his car - Park & Ride. A true lothario.

"Nope."

And then you realise that such a definitive answer makes way for a million questions, so you overcompensate.

"No need," you continue with a shrug. "He let me know that he couldn't do today, hence me asking if you could give me a ride - thanks, by the way - but other than that? I think we've both just been busy."

"Yeah," Jimin nods, then thinks, busy ignoring each other . "He actually asked me to give you a ride before you even called, so it's all good. No skin off my back.

"Thank you," you say regardless. "I really appreciate it."

"No bother," he shakes his head. "It's always good to have company - plus Yoongi lives so fucking far out of the city. I get bored alone."

"Well, consider me your very own entertainment system," you grin, as your phone finally connects to his radio system. His car is a lot different to Jeongguk's. No better, no worse. Just not the same.

Jimin doesn't force you to talk about Jeongguk like you half think he will. In fact, it's you who is the first one to mention him again.

"Bringing Jiyeong, isn't he?" You ask, trying to sound nonchalant.

He nods. "Mhmm. She wanted to spend Christmas with him, but he thinks it's too soon. This was his compromise, I guess."

You're silent for a moment, contemplating just what the fuck you've done to everyone's lives by setting him up with Jiyeong. Sure, it's not really a negative change, but it's a change nonetheless. Everyone's lives are affected by this. There'll be an extra seat at the table. Another present for Secret Santa.

Part of you doesn't understand why you're being so dramatic about it all. In the grand scheme of everything, Jiyeong changes nothing. Makes no difference if she's in attendance. The only thing it really changes is how Jeongguk will interact with you.

"That's nice," you say. You really want to mean it.

"Is it?" Jimin asks, his tone just as sincere as yours is trying to be.

"Mhmm," you nod. "It's good he's found someone."

Again, Jimin just asks, "is it?"

"Well, yeah?" You laugh softly. "I know he was hung up on Hayun for a while, so it's good that he's moving on."

Eyes on the road, Jimin smirks and gently shakes his head. "Think we've got different ideas of what 'hooked' means. Dumbass hasn't been hooked on her for months. Quite positively unhooked, if you ask me."

"Oh," you murmur. "Well, either way. It's nice having someone around this time of year."

"Is that what you're after?" He teases, knowing that you'd have had no problem trying to find that for yourself if you really wanted it.

"Couldn't think of anything worse," you grin - and you really do mean it. You've grown selfish in your singledom. Having to factor in someone else's feelings, their needs, their schedule, to your plans would just annoy you, you think.

You neglect to acknowledge how those things come without a second thought when you actually care about someone. It's not a chore, or an obligation. When you're into someone, you factor them in because life is better with them around. You'd rather disrupt your selfish ways to make room for them in your schedule.

"Me either, DB," Jimin agrees. "You're full of shit, though."

"Sorry?" You turn to face him, but his eyes are on the road, a smug smirk on his face.

"You're forgiven."

"No," you laugh. "Sorry as in 'what the fuck?' "

"That's far less polite," Jimin smiles, still, deliberately winding you up.

"So is telling someone they're full of shit!"

"Well, you are!" He laughs, looking up to the rear view mirror before he merges lane. "We both know if Gguk turned around and insisted on doing something that would disrupt your plans-"

"I'd tell him to wait his turn."

Jimin laughs again. "You're a liar."

"And you're a shit-stirrer."

He tilts his head a little, sticking his bottom lip out, as if he's considering your words - before conceding with a nod. "Yeah, you're not wrong. I just don't get the pair of you. Act like you're just friends, set each other up on blind dates, but shag ea-"

"Sorry?" You almost choke the second ' shag ' leaves his mouth.

"Forgiven," he smirks. "Again."

"Not what I meant," you protest. "Again."

"So what?" Jimin teases. "You're gonna pretend like you haven't?"

"We don't shag!" You almost shriek. It's not a lie. At least not anymore. "He's got a- well, I'm not really sure what they are, but it doesn't matter. He's seeing someone."

"So?"

"Oh my god," you say with even more horror than before. "Not everyone sluts themselves out for a quick thrill Jimin."

"True. But I do, and I know you do, too."

"You know no such thing."

"I've fucked you twice."

"Shut up."

"Is this what you're like with him, too?" He teases. It's all in good humour, but Jimin is trying to get under your skin.

Jeongguk wouldn't crack. Had said you'd rested some of your things on his chair when you came to say bye in the morning. Reckons you'd left it by accident.

Jimin's bed had been cold on the side that wasn't his and void of any perfume when he'd woken up. Knows you didn't sleep in his bed - but Jeongguk refused to admit anything, and so Jimin is seeing if you're easier to crack. Doesn't want the truth for truth's sake, but just because he loves being right.

"His skin ain't as thick as mine, poor baby needs a softer approach," Jimin adds. "Hope you're nice to him in bed."

"I've never been in his bed," you roll your eyes. "And poor baby ain't gentle in the slighte-"

"HA! So you are fucking him!"

"No!"

"Been trying to get the truth out of him for weeks," Jimin tells you.

"What truth?" You feign innocence once more.

" What truth? " He mimics, voice high in pitch and whiney - far whinier than you think yours actually is. "You're both as bad as one another. Why was your bra in his room after you fucked me?"

You're silent.

"It's a very simple question," he assures you.

You want to unbuckle your seatbelt, open the car door and roll onto the road. Don't care about the oncoming traffic. Would be far less painful than this conversation.

"The answer is simple, too," you say, deciding that deflection is the best way to go. "You're just not gonna believe anything I say unless it ends in an admission of us fucking."

"True," he concedes. "Look, I don't give a shit if you are. Accidentally gave him crabs once-"

"Sorry?"

"Forgiven," Jimin smirks, before deciding to just carry on with his declaration. "Was years ago, now. It's why he doesn't share towels. Anyways, what I'm saying is that we've shared weirder things."

"I'm not an object," you scoff a little, skipping the song that's softly humming from the speakers to something a little more lively. You're currently listening to some indie artist that Jeongguk had on once while he'd been studying during a hangout, and you don't like the constant reminders of him. The conversation is bad enough as it is.

"Nor were the crabs?"

Jimin, you decide, is one of the most complex people you've ever met. An interior designer with the simplest bedroom known to man; a charming lothario who is just as revolting as he is seductive. You're not really sure how he does it, but he does make you laugh at least. Mainly from confusion, but a laugh is a laugh. It's still enjoyable. He's nice to be around.

You're incompatible, to say the least, but he's fun, which is probably why you didn't mind going for round two - the more you get to know him though, the more you solidify the fact that round three is off the cards.

The rest of the drive goes without another mention of Jeongguk, and whether or not he's seen just as much of you as Jimin has. The man in the driver's seat is intuitive, though, and just knows . Doesn't need you to confirm it. Doesn't need Jeongguk to, either. Is content in his assumptions.

You're pleased to arrive before Jeongguk.

Seoyeon greets you with a hug as warm as a Daegu summer, and Yoongi's smile is just as toasty. Despite the freeze of winter months, the Min's cultivate a warmth that makes even the ondol seem redundant.

Yoongi studies the whisky with an impressed pout and a nod, reading over the label. "Good choice. Want some?"

Shaking your head, you pull out the vodka instead.

"Keep that away from Seoyeon," he jokes, which causes her to zoom back over to the pair of you with an enthusiastic smile.

"Keep what awa- oooh! Vodka," she grins. "Care to share?"

And so Yoongi's warning is redundant, because yes , you really would like to share. It's not that Yoongi doesn't want her drinking, it's just that he knows her like the back of his hand. Vodka always gets her a little too tipsy, and they've still got a meal to serve up - but if he has to take the lead, he'll take it, just so she can let her hair down a little. It's Christmas, after all. A time for celebrating.

Yet when Jeongguk arrives, Jiyeong in toe, you find yourself downing the dregs of your first drink just to wash down your apprehension. Don't feel like celebrating. Feel like commiserating. You've not been around Jeongguk while he's been with Jiyeong since Tae's art show.

Makes you think of the bar. Makes you think of your hand on his thighs in the dark shadows, and the heaviness of his presence behind you in the bathroom, wide eyes on his in the reflection of an aged mirror. Makes you feel guilty .

It's not like anything happened - but you condemn yourself because you know it wasn't right, even if it wasn't exactly wrong.

"Sorry we're late," he says, and it's bizarre how his voice alone settles the ache in your chest. "Traffic was a bitch."

He reaches behind himself for her hand, to guide Jiyeong further into the room. The way she holds it, and how her other hand wraps around his wrist makes you think now would be a great time for another drink. You chalk it up to your disdain for PDA - as if you hadn't watched on with a smile as Yoongi had pressed a tiny kiss against Seoyeon's head while she'd been pouring herself a drink.

PDA doesn't bother you at all. In fact, you'd once argued with Seokjin about the fact he never held your hand in public. Said he didn't like getting clammy palms.

Maybe that's it. Maybe you're jealous of the intimacy.

Jeongguk's made leaps and bounds since the first bird fell - but Jeongguk never had an issue with intimacy. That one was all on you. Trained by Seokjin, you've a lot to unlearn, even now. You weren't done with the birds. Nowhere near close.

Jeongguk's fear of rejection is still just as potent as your intimacy issues, he just masks it well. Lets Jiyeong take the lead. He doesn't reject her, but he doesn't open himself up for rejection either.

He glances over to you and nods, a small smile on his lips. Head to toe in black, he's dressed up a little bit. Is in slacks and a button-up, a leather belt around his waist. Still got his converse on, though. His dainty silver lip ring flips ever so gently, and it's like you've been drinking prosecco this entire time, a little fizz bubbling in your stomach - so you pour yourself a glass of it to disguise the feeling. Hold it up and nod, as if to say some silent cheers or celebration.

Jiyeong catches his gaze. Whispers something in his ear. Diverts his attention - and so you divert your eyes. Engage in conversation with Nabi and Tae - a stupid debate about the best pepero flavour. Tae swears down by the original, but Nabi is an almond girlie. You offend them both when you say you like the 'nude' flavour - where the chocolate is on the inside, the biscuit acting as an outer layer.

"Of all the things I've ever learnt about you, this is by far the worst," Tae tells you with such certainty that you can't help but laugh. Nabi defends you. Tells Tae at least your choice isn't 'boring' like his.

Eventually, as you settle around the dinner table, everyone gets involved, and Jeongguk is the worst offender. Says the cheddar cheese flavour is underrated. Even Jiyeong refuses to defend him, there.

"Right," Tae says in disgust. "Little Miss Nude and Mr Cheddar fucking Cheese, you can both get out. I'm not celebrating Christmas with either of you."

"What?"

"Oh, c'mon!"

You both protest, but Tae refuses to have any of it. It's all in good humour - everyone is laughing, and tipsy grins are on the faces of the people you adore the most. Even Jiyeong seems to be enjoying herself - but she'll only look at Jeongguk. Not you. The joke is only funny because he's involved. If it were just you, she'd probably not find much humour in it.

Nabi is quick to refill both of your drinks throughout the evening.

"Christmas is reserved for being drunk, and drunk only," she tells you with absolute certainty as you dillydally in the kitchen while the rest of your friends continue their conversation around the dinner table. Seeing her out of her shell is nice, so you don't mind her insistence. "It's the true Scots way."

You learn more about her family - Scottish on her dad's side. She'd usually be there for Christmas, but having spent the summer there, she'd opted for Christmas back in Korea, and regrets it. Loves her family dearly, and misses their tradition of getting absolutely blitzed every December. It's not necessarily the 'true Scots way' as she says, but it's her way - getting you guys buzzed is her way of feeling like she's 'home'. It's lovely to be included, you decide.

Her hair is up with a tartan ribbon - Black Watch, she tells you the pattern is. Deep green and dark blue, it couldn't be further from her family's rich red-based tartan - but it didn't match her outfit as well, and she's not too precious about it.

She babbles about her family, and asks about yours. Is just as interested in you as you are in her. There's a warmth to Nabi once she opens up. Despite how cold she'd been the first time you'd met her, it seems as if this is the real Nabi. The standoffish approach is unintentional, and she realises it does her no favours - but makes the friendships formed much more genuine.

Dinner is eaten. Compliments are given to the chefs. Seoyeon and Yoongi battle for the head chef title, but it's redundant because everyone's a little too tipsy for their own good. All you'll remember in the morning is that it was fucking delicious. Might even rival your mother's cooking.

Jeongguk sits on the opposite side of the dinner table, a few seats down from yours. Jiyeong is next to him, closer to you, almost like she wants a barrier.

Or maybe she's just a girl sitting next to the guy she's dating at dinner.

You blame the bitter thoughts on the vodka-induced haze. It's unlike you - but Christmas was always going to be difficult for you. It's the one time of year Seokjin would really pull through. All of your fondest memories with him stem from this season.

You'd grown a little dependent on Jeongguk to alleviate the strain caused by the ghost of Christmas past, but he can't do that now. It's okay, that he can't. He shouldn't. Not if he wants things with Jiyeong to work out - of which he does.

Part of him knows, though, that an argument is brewing. It's in the way Jiyeong stiffens every time you become a focal point of the conversation. How her eyes follow you as you re-enter the room with Nabi, your friendship something she can't understand because she's still on cold-terms with Nabi. Doesn't realise yet it's just how Nabi works - and while you'd been tolerant of it, Jiyeong takes offence.

Her discomfort also shows in her grip on Jeongguk's thigh and how it becomes a little tighter when he laughs at jokes you make. A reminder, he thinks. You're here with me. Pay attention to me.

He can't blame her. They've been dating for a month. This is their first major holiday. Of course she'd want things to go well. To feel special.

Gym sessions have doubled as dates, which has increased the time spent together, but he's also made an effort outside of their common space. They've been for dinner, been to the city's main amusement park. Done 'datey' things, because that's the 'done' thing. He holds her hand when they're together, and kisses her goodbye.

He's still yet to invite her back to his. Not for a fear of rejection, but because he still hasn't taken those damn birds down.

Sometimes she likes to argue with him for the sake of making him squirm. If a text comes through from you, he knows a row is due - but has learned that sometimes she orchestrates them just to get him in her bed. Manipulates him a little bit. Whines. Says she doesn't even think he likes her that much - so he tries to prove that he does.

Thinks that maybe sex could be the answer - and given how sweet and sincere she always is in the aftermath, and how she always says sorry for being mean when he's in her sheets, it seems like it does work.

For a while, at least.

And so that's how his weeks go. Jiyeong is fine until she's not, and then Jeongguk will fix things by fucking her - because how could you possibly be an issue when she's the one he's fucking? It's her name on his tongue, her tongue in his mouth, and vice versa.

But he's found he's adopted your behaviours. He never stays over. He'll spend the evening at hers. Let her do things you won't. Kisses her when he fucks her, because it's what feels right - but doesn't stay the night because it feels wrong . It is intimate. He's not sure he wants to take things that far, yet. Isn't sure he likes the lingering resentment that's building; how it feels like he's being conditioned to associate sex with the unpleasantness of an argument.

He tries not to think of Hayun, but he remembers how he'd fuck her, just hoping - praying - she'd realise his feelings for her. Doesn't like that he's fucking Jiyeong as a way to prove himself. It feels too familiar.

They're not official. Exclusive, yes, but not official. It's still in its trial period, which is further than he ever got with Hayun, though.

Jeongguk knows, deep down, that he's too much of a hopeless romantic to ever need a 'trial period'. Knows that if this was the right thing for him, he'd already be thinking about sharing a home and naming children. Just how he's wired.

But he's jumped in too quickly before, and it's never ended well. He's taking things slow, because he wants it to be different. Knows that love is a choice, so he's actively choosing her.

Isn't in love yet. Not even close. But he wants to be.

And so he ignores the fact he doesn't think he can peacefully coexist with you without Jieyong getting irritated because he thinks if he keeps choosing her, she'll understand. He thinks if he proves himself, his dedication, that she'll accept it.

He's trying .

Even as an outsider, you recognise this. Can see that sometimes he goes to do things - to speak, to joke - and then catches himself. Speaks to her instead. Includes her in conversations that she'd otherwise remain mute in.

He's trying , which is more than Seokjin ever did for you. Makes you appreciate Jeongguk's careful nature even more. You think that Jiyeong would be mad to give him up, and it appears that he's not intending on giving her up, so all that's left to do is accept that this is your reality now.

The birds were fun while they lasted, but you'd rather have Jeongguk around, than not at all. It's a small compromise - and maybe you're a few drinks too deep, but by the time Secret Santa exchange comes around, you find yourself smiling at how animated he becomes. His round eyes glow with excitement, enthused by the fun of it all. A big kid at heart, Jeongguk is the purest soul you've ever known.

He's the one who passes out the gifts, like a kid on Christmas morning organising the presents beneath the tree. He wants to touch them all, feel their weight, see if they make a noise. Also wants to unwrap them all, but knows he can't, so excitedly hurries them along.

You can tell almost immediately who he wrapped a gift for - his smile becomes nervous, nibbling down on his bottom lip as he tentatively observes Tae unwrap an immaculately wrapped parcel. You should have guessed, really, knowing how good Jeongguk is with folding paper, that it would be from him.

Inside is a painting by numbers book for beginners - "Oh fuck off," Tae laughs - and a pair of earrings that have tiny, fully-functional, watercolour painting sets dangling from them.

Tae is obsessed . Takes his small hoops out, and puts the earrings in immediately. They're ridiculous and everyone is aware of it, but the way Tae dips the tiny brush into his wine and uses it to wet some of the paint is amusing to everyone. He gets straight to work painting in the first page - which is quite literally a square with just a single number inside it.

The way Jeongguk beams as Tae gets to grips with it is so endearing that you find yourself just as enthused as he is.

He's laughing, all childlike and full of life, and you decide that not having him in your life would be a crying shame. You're grateful for many things, but moments like these? They're the cherry on top of a good life.

You're a little more nervous as Jimin begins to unwrap his present.

It's from you, not that anyone is aware - hell, you're not even sure Jimin will realise the joke you're making as he neatly removes the ribbons you've wrapped around his gift. Everyone watches on with great curiosity as he begins to decipher what on earth he's received.

It's a two-part gift. The first thing? A desk sign.

Don't touch my pens , it reads - until he slides a small tab across, which changes it to say 'Do touch my pen.'

He smirks. Thinks he knows where this is going. Thinks he knows who gave it to him - and he unwraps the second part of your gift, he laughs in a way you don't think you've ever heard before.

"Oh, you little fucker," he grins at you, holding close three brand new pens, that match the one he'd claimed to be his favourite on the first night you had met. It's all a bit tongue-in-cheek, and you know it could probably prompt a few questions. You're not too sure what everyone knows of yours and Jimin's shared history, but you decide you don't really care.

"It's an in-joke," Jimin tells everyone, not wanting to air your dirty laundry. He sets his desk sign in front of him, and changes it back to ' Don't touch my pens ,' then neatly lines his new ones into a row, a pleased smile on his angelic face. Looks up at you. Grins. "Good memory."

You just shrug, pleased that he finds humour in them. The smile on your face is warm.

The smile on Jeongguk's face? Gone.

It returns when Jiyeong goes to open her present. Whoever had her name made a conscious effort to make her feel included despite not knowing her all too well. They also probably asked Jeongguk for some pointers, but that doesn't matter.

"Oh, these are ideal," she grins at a set of workout dice. There are six, each covered in different workouts and stretches. A final one indicates how many reps should be done. "I'm so bored of my current routine. These are literally perfect."

There's a lot to be said for how someone receives a gift, and Jiyeong seems genuinely appreciative. Alongside the dice is a custom water bottle with her name on it, and a cheat-day chocolate bar, both of which are just as well received.

From across the table, you sit with a soft smile on your lips. Perhaps this new normal could be nice.

Jeongguk feels your gaze. Glances towards you. Is pleased by the look on your face. Smiles, too.

You're the last to receive your present. It's wrapped a little haphazardly, and truth be told, you've no idea who it could be from. So far, no one has admitted to anything.

Occasionally, you just know - like Jeongguk's gift for Tae.

You've no idea who gifted Jeongguk quite possibly the largest shirt you've ever seen in your life.

It's a T-shirt, but the sleeves end by his wrists, and the hem of the shirt is below his knees. A joke at the expense of his love for baggy clothes, he's wearing it with pride and a silly little grin on his face. It's impractical and ridiculous, but it sums him up perfectly. Maybe it's the sheer amount of vodka you've consumed, but you can't seem to stop laughing every time you look at him.

Jiyeong doesn't really find it that funny, but she laughs too because she doesn't like the way Jeongguk looks at you when you laugh.

Yoongi's had nearly half a bottle of whisky because every time he notices the tension, he downs his drink. Can't be dealing with it. Doesn't understand how no one else is privy to it.

When you've finally discarded the wrapping paper, you find yourself laughing. Of course you are - the gift is perfect .

You open the box up, and then everyone joins in with your laughter as you pull out a bloody disco ball.

"Incredible," you beam, letting it spin in front of you, soft giggles escaping your lips. The light reflects as you twirl it around, dappling everyone in the most gorgeous speckles. Ethereal and whimsical, it's perhaps the best secret santa gift you've ever received.

Jiyeong doesn't smile. Just looks at Jeongguk as he looks at you, and wonders why he's incapable of ever looking at you without that stupid fucking smile on his face. It irritates her.

You don't look at Jeongguk. Just at the disco ball. You fear he's got stars in his eyes - and when your body betrays your mind, and eventually does glance towards him, you're proven right.

Of course he does though. He's looking at his star girl, and would have galaxies in his eyes regardless. Always has done. Regretfully, always will.

See, the stars are just reflections of your glitter. They won't burn out. Will never disintegrate. Very bad for the environment.

Forever is a long time, but he thinks it's the only accurate timeframe he can give to the splendour of your sparkle.

As your eyes linger for just a moment too long, there's an acute awareness between you both that things were better before.

He misses stargazing.

You miss the way he watches you.

Jeongguk doesn't know what to make of it. Things should be better now. Things should feel right - but he's holding back the full smile he wants to give you. Feels like he can't enthuse with you. Knows it will lead to an argument, and he's been trying to avoid those. Knows that Jiyeong is at her worst when she's had a few drinks, and knows it won't take much for her to blow up at him.

The worst part? He knows when they stopped for gas on their way there, he'd returned to the car with snacks (of which she'd naturally been happy about) but also an air freshener in the shape of a tiny fucking disco ball. He'd found it hilarious. She'd thought it was cute, but didn't understand why he liked it so much. She liked how much he liked it though, so had hung it up for him while he was driving.

Jeongguk knows she isn't stupid. Knows dots are being joined in her head. Knows that when he saw that air freshener, he thought of you. Knows that he loved it because of you. Part of him didn't even realise himself at the time, but now that he comes to think of it, it's obvious.

Jiyeong's internalised rage could shatter the disco ball you're holding into a thousand pieces - and Jeongguk knows you'd still find beauty in it.

You're a hopeless romanticist, just like he's a hopeless romantic. Both find love in things you shouldn't; you in ideas, him in people.

So he just nods. Lets someone else make jokes about your disco ball eyes, and how it's like looking at a sculpture of you. Laughs as you fake offence for being likened to a ball-shaped object - but stiffens his back when he realises Jiyeongs strengthening grip on his thigh.

You pretend you don't wish Jeongguk would make a stupid remark about how he was the one who invented that nickname, and how he deserves the credit.

He just turns to Jiyeong and whispers something in her ear. You've no idea what he says, but she smiles. Better than the death glare you'd been getting previously, so you ignore it.

That new normal you had decided was okay? Yeah. You hate it.

That Oscar-worthy performance you've been putting on prevails, though. As the night dwindles on, you holding the disco ball close, fractured light painting your throat in different hues, you couldn't look happier.

Natural divisions form - Jeongguk ends up in the kitchen with Tae, Jimin and Jiyeong, while Yoongi stays with the girlies. Namjoon is off visiting family, so he doesn't have his usual right-hand man - but he has his wife-to-be and a little plait in his hair, so he doesn't mind all too much.

"It's upstairs," Yoongi says to you quietly a little while later. "Spare room."

You nod, knowing what he means straight off the bat. Glancing through the doorway to where Jeongguk has his arm looped around Jiyeong's shoulders, a pretty smile on her face, you frown.

"Go up," Yoongi just says. "I'll sort it. First room on the left. Door's open."

You do as you're told - only realising quite how drunk you are when you stand. Walking straight is never your strong point after a few drinks, but you've been sitting for so long that you didn't realise quite how bad it was.

The room Yoongi directed you to is quaint - a small bed, not quite a double, is snug against the window. All of the furniture is carved from the same wood, and you know instantly that Yoongi must have made every single piece of it. It's impressive. Commendable. You understand why Seoyeon is so smitten. There's something to be said for a man who has mastered his craft. Maybe that's why you like seeing Jeongguk behind the bar so much.

A thin box lays on top of the white quilt, denting it from the weight. You check it over. Open it up. Pout. It's perfect .

Crafted by Yoongi, a dark walnut cutting board engraved with Jeongguk's name sits perfectly in the box, a thin layer of tissue paper beneath it. One edge has the natural shape of the wood running up it, while the rest have been sanded to a gorgeous curve. In the bottom corner, Yoongi's logo - his own name - is branded into the wood. It's gorgeous. One of a kind.

After visiting Yoongi's studio together, and seeing Jeongguk delicately run his fingers along similar ones, an idea had brewed in your head. Thought it was apt, knowing he wants his own samgyeopsal place.

You've barely managed to close it again when you hear a small knock on the open door.

Turning, you're greeted by your favourite person, and you can't even hide your smile. He can't hide his, either. His oversized shirt is tied around his neck by the sleeves, as if he's wearing a cape. You think he's ridiculous and it makes you giggle.

"What?" he beams - 'cause he can't suppress his smiles, either. Has been holding them in all evening, but now it's just the pair of you, he can finally indulge.

Yoongi had pulled him to the side. Told Jiyeong he needed to borrow him quickly. Followed Jeongguk upstairs, but went to the bathroom instead. Told Jeongguk to go to the spare room.

Maybe the deceit isn't ideal, but it's for a good cause, Yoongi thinks. Would do it again, no questions asked. Thinks that this is worthy of breaking Seoyeon's 'no gifts other than secret santa' rule.

"Have I been lured here under false pretences?" He speaks quietly, moving a little closer, tapping against the door to push it nearly shut. It's ajar, but only just.

"Maybe," you whisper back. Take a step closer. He holds his hands out, palms up, for you to gently slap yours against his. The contact is innocent. He just misses being tactile with you.

"Maybe?" He raises his brows, tilting his head slightly. His eyes narrow, smile persisting, a small laugh stuttering between his lips as his nose begins to scrunch. He's as drunk as he is handsome.

"Maybe," you nod, before looking over to the box on the bed. "Santa's been."

Jeongguk still his hands. Holds yours a little. Pretends he isn't.

"For me?"

"Mhmm," you nod, pulling your palms from his grasp, reaching over for it. "Here."

He takes it slowly. Is apprehensive. It makes you laugh. Says nothing as he eases the lid off the box - then stops moving entirely as he realises exactly what it is.

"For the restaurant," you say softly, a nervous smile on your lips. Eyes wide, you can't fully work out what he's thinking. "When you finally open it. I know wooden chopping boards aren't, like, health and safety approved, but I wasn't really thinking about that when I decided to get you one, so I'll buy a new set when the time comes-"

"No," Jeongguk shakes his head. Finally looks up at you. Looks like he might cry. "No, this is perfect. Perfect . B, what the fuck?"

And then he laughs. Chokes a little, because he really is trying to hold back the fact he feels like he'll cry. Holds the board in one hand, and uses the other to pull you in for a hug so warm that it feels like you're being engulfed by a thousand flames.

You've always believed in his dreams with reckless abandon. Have never doubted him. Know that one day you'll be drinking purple starfuckers after hours at the bar of his very own samgyeopsal place. You will . You're sure of it.

And while Jeongguk's always quietly hoped that he'd be able to achieve his dreams, he's never had someone enthuse about it in the way that you do. Never had someone absolutely certain that his dreams would play an active role in their own reality.

But you do.

So he sets the cutting board gently down on the bed and fully wraps his arms around you. Hugs you because he doesn't know how else to convey the way it makes him feel. Appreciative? Maybe. But it's more than that. More than delight, contentedness, gratefulness. He's experiencing all of those things, but they're too simple for such a complex feeling.

"Perfect," he whispers against the side of your head. "So fucking perfect."

He doesn't clarify that he's talking about the cutting board. Doesn't think he needs to. Also knows he not talking about the board at all, but knows better than to admit that.

"I'm glad you like it," you smile against his chest, then pull away from the hug. "Just thought maybe you should start gathering your resources, yanno?"

It's a lie. You just wanted to get him a gift.

He picks it up again and traces the grooves, fingers tenderly drawing over the wood grain. Studies it, because he knows if he looks at you again, he won't be able to make sensible choices.

"I love it."

"Pretty, isn't it?" You grin, watching his hands delicately feel their way around the board.

He looks up at you briefly. His eyes linger, then fall back to his hands.

"Yeah," he smiles. "Very pretty."

You let him study it for a little longer, before encouraging him downstairs. You tell him everyone will be wondering where he is. You think they really will. Think he's the life and the soul. Fail to realise just because he's the person you're always focused on, doesn't mean that everyone else is.

"Wait," he says as you reach the top of the stairs, the board tucked beneath his arm.

"Mhmm?"

"Thank you."

"It's fine," you smile - but Jeongguk looks serious all of a sudden.

"I mean it, Byeol. You don't... This is..." he struggles to find the words, so just laughs. "I'm so glad to know you."

You can't help the smile that breaks on your face, like a shooting star in the darkest of nights. Your glitter reflects the warm light pooling from up the stairs, and Jeongguk realises he's missed you far too much.

"Knowing you is okay," you tease, before ushering him downstairs. "C'mon. Seoyeon was talking about playing a game just before we headed up. Don't wanna miss the fun."

You're also aware you've been away for a little too long. Know that Jiyeong will probably start getting antsy. You know in her position, you probably would feel the exact same, and you don't want to make life difficult for anyone.

"You go first," you encourage. "I'll follow in a moment."

He does as he's told, while you head to the bathroom and freshen yourself off. Wipe the glitter that trails down your cheek when you fail to compose yourself and find a tear falling. There's no reason to cry. Everything went well - but maybe that's reason enough. Maybe you were reminded of how good things were before you fucked them all up, by insisting on Jeongguk following through with that damn bird.

When you finally return, everyone is in good spirits. The night continues as such. Jeongguk and Jiyeong leave first, with Jimin joining their taxi because it just makes sense. Part of you revels in satisfaction when you hear Jeongguk state there'll two drops to the ride: Jiyeong's place, then back to his place for him and Jimin.

You catch a cab with Tae and Nabi a little while later, though you're sure in the morning you'll forget all about it. Will forget most of the evening, most probably. You're fucked. Nabi's mission? Accomplished - but she's just as bad as you are. Throws up in her bag in the back of the Taxi.

As you eventually meander up the corridor to your apartment, a small sense of dread swells in the pit of your stomach.

Much like the evening of Taehyung's art show, there are flowers by your door.

They're different, this time. Out of season, you think. Oranges and purples you'd expect to see in the warmth of early summer, not in the barren cold of winter - but they're familiar. A small bunch. Expensive because of the time of year, but minimal compared to the obnoxious roses you'd been greeted with before.

You're getting pretty good at mental gymnastics. Tell yourself maybe Seokjin fancied doing something a little different this time. There's no calling card, from what you can see - just a small box wrapped in brown paper and sealed shut with washi tape.

For some reason, you find yourself cursing when you notice the small detail, because you know exactly where you recognise it from. Your heart grows heavy, lips pressing together to suppress a pout.

See, Jeongguk had been lying about the traffic.

He was late because he had to drop by yours before heading up to Yoongi's place. Didn't want Jiyeong to ask questions, so went to yours before he got her, but also wanted to make sure you'd left your place first. Has Jimin on his friend finder app, so stalked him like a little creep to make sure nothing would overlap.

He's not too sure why.

When you pick the flowers up, you find yourself cradling them, almost. Far more care is taken than there was with the roses. These are more precious, you think - and yet you set them down on the counter first, and don't bother to sort the vase out.

Instead, you slide your thumb under a loose section of paper, gently prizing away the washi tape from the brown paper.

The box itself is no bigger than your palm. White once you remove the earthy-toned packaging, it's embossed with a small silver stamp of a company you've never heard of.

Nervousness finds its home in your diaphragm for no good reason. Delicately opening the box, you're greeted first by a small card. It's handwritten, unlike the ones that so often come with flowers from Seokjin.

But of course it is. Everything about Jeongguk is far more intimate. It's innate. Just who he is as a person. S'why he was so good with those pesky fears of yours.

When you finally start to read the note, you realise your vision is a little blurred from tiny tears making their presence known. You're not crying. Not really. Just a little emotional. You blame it on the vodka.

for the wind beneath my wings, and the washi tape that holds my fears safe.

what would i do without you?

keep on shining, disco ball x

Beneath the note sits a dainty silver chain. Resting prettily on the cushioned padding of the box is a small charm: an ornate silver origami bird.

You're not sure why, but you really do start crying, now. The tears fall silently, and speckle the countertop with tiny splashes, but you don't care to wipe them away.

In your back pocket, your phone vibrates. A picture sent from Jeongguk waits in your message feed.

Across town, he stands in his dimly lit kitchen, a glass of red in his hand as he leans back against the kitchen island. The chopping board is hung next to the stovetop, where a pot usually lives, but Jeongguk has hidden it away in the cupboard. Thinks Yoongi's handiwork deserves to be displayed - and he's right. The dark walnut wood looks gorgeous against the backsplash of his kitchen.

The picture sent to you is of his view, and he's pleased to feel his phone vibrate in his own back pocket just a few minutes later.

You reply with a picture, too.

It's of his gift card, with a hastily scribbled reply over the top of the photograph. You often annotate the pictures you send him, and it always makes him smile - but this time, he really does laugh.

Next to his question - what would i do without you? - your hot pink digital handwriting replies: idk - die, probably.

And then a second message pings through - a selfie, taken in the mirror.

Your hair is down, slightly kinked in places from your up-do, but ever so elegant as it drapes over your shoulder. Your roots are well and truly growing through now, and it makes Jeongguk smile. So much progress has been made. It's nice to see a physical representation of that.

Your eyes are a little bleary, but it could just be the alcohol, he thinks. Chooses to ignore the fact your nose is slightly blushed, too.

Tiny speckles of glitter catch the light all over your skin - your eyes, your cheeks, your throat, the top of your chest. Again, he ignores the fact you're without the clothes you had been wearing. There are still straps over your shoulders, but he knows you well. Knows you're in your underwear. Recognises the bra. Has taken it off you before.

Nothing is on show, but nothing needs to be. He's visualising it regardless. Hates himself for it, but can't seem to stop.

In fact, the only thing that does avert his attention is the silver pendant around your neck. It sits prettily a few inches above your cleavage, perfectly adorning you like fine jewellery should.

It's not like it was unreasonably expensive - just sterling silver - but something about it feels priceless. To him. To you. To the friendship you've cultivated and the lives you both lead; forever changed by a couple of purple starfuckers and a few bad decisions.

Something tells me this one won't fall, your caption reads.

Jeongguk purses his lips together. Looks at the chopping board. Shakes his head. Doesn't know how to reply.

So instead, he tries honesty.

You look beautiful.

The message sits in his side of the chat, unsent. He knows the compliment is too heavy. Doesn't matter if it's true or not. So he rephrases, and presses send on something else.

Jeongguk: suits you, b

Of course it does. Was chosen for you by someone who knows you better than you know yourself.

You: best friend in the whole entire world x

You: what would I do without you?

Jeongguk smirks to himself. Doesn't even think as he types.

Jeongguk: die, probably

Your reply makes his smile grow even wider.

You: till death do us part ;)

He knows he shouldn't find such comfort in the joke you've just sent, he can't help it.

Jeongguk knows you'll be away visiting family over the next few days, just like he is. Knows that he won't hear from you much. Understands why. Doesn't mean he enjoys the prospect of it.

He considers inviting you around, now.

But it's Christmas morning, albeit very early and he knows the implications of such a thing. He wouldn't mean anything by it, he's just missed you. Missed hanging out with you.

But he invested himself in someone else because of the investment he made in you, and the birds. He has expectations to live up to. Doesn't wanna let you down.

Neither of you sleep as well as you should. Life was easier as a kid, the excitement of Father Christmas visiting enough to wipe you out entirely. Even the alcohol isn't enough to lull you into a peaceful equilibrium.

Instead, Jeongguk stares at the birds on his ceiling. You twiddle with the bird around your neck.

It's apparent that neither of you will be waking up to the gifts you really want beneath your trees - and you've only got yourselves to blame.

Merry fuckin' Christmas.

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[siancore]

I'm Coming With You

Created for the @sambuckylibrary SamBucky Summer Bingo Vacation Card - Square Fill: Pride Parade.

Summary: Sam and Bucky share a nice moment before a Pride Parade.

Sam finds Bucky hunched over a laptop at the New Avengers HQ. He's usually there even when he's in town and there isn't a mission on, so Sam isn't surprised to see him. Just really happy. He greets Bucky with a wide smile and a hand to his shoulder. They exchange heys and how you doings and Sam settles in across from him at the table. Bucky closes the laptop and gives Sam his full attention.

"Not that I don't like havin' you here, but what's up? What're you doin' here? Thought you didn't get R&R until next week."

"Oh," says Bucky, running a hand through his short hair. "I umm, took R&R a week early. I remember you said somethin' about Capital Pride Parade and that you were going, so here I am."

Sam smiles softly at Bucky. He did mention he was going to the Pride Parade, mentioned it nearly four weeks ago. Didn't expect Bucky to remember or even take note.

"Yeah, the Parade's tomorrow," Sam offers. "Been looking forward to it for a minute now."

"I'm coming with you," Bucky blurts out, causing a little spark of hope and something else to swirl inside of Sam's chest.

"Oh, it's not a work thing," Sam says, pushing that little feeling down; he knows Bucky is trying to be a better, more supportive co-worker slash partner. "I'm just going to be with my people and have a good time."

Bucky smiles gently at Sam and says, "You deserve that, Sam."

They stare at one another, holding each other's gaze; they've been doing this more frequently and it makes Sam want to vibrate out of his body.

"And I know it's not for work," Bucky adds. "But, still: I'm coming with you. If you want me to come."

"I'd love that!" Sam says too eagerly. "I mean, that would be really nice."

"I did some research," says Bucky, looking relieved for some reason. "About Pride and what it all means."

He runs his hand along his jawline absently.

"It's been a hard-fought battle to get here, eh?"

"Yes," says Sam with a contemplative nod. "It really has. There's still a lot of fighting going on, but it's nice to celebrate those battles that've been won."

Bucky nods and smiles adoringly at Sam; that little swirling feeling ignites inside Sam's chest once more.

…

Bucky doesn’t know why, but he is feeling a little nervous as he and Sam exit the car and begin to make their way to where the Pride Family Fun Day is being held. There are a lot of people milling around; music is playing; laughter is wafting through the air. There’s a festive vibe that permeates the immediate area. The longer they stroll, the more relaced Bucky grows.

Sam is walking beside him, and he looks radiant. Not just because of the summer sunshine caressing his skin, but also because of the utter joy emanating from his whole being. He looks lovely when he is relaxed like this. Happy and carefree.

Then there’s the small amount of gold eyeshadow that Sam is wearing. It makes his pretty brown eyes sparkle even more. The gold hoop earrings also add an extra radiance to him. Bucky knows he has a staring problem at the best of times, but tries not to let his gaze linger too long on Sam. He fears he won’t ever be able to look away if he does. Fears he won’t ever be able to focus on anything else but Sam.

They walk around and look at all of the stalls. Some are from organisations and advocacy groups sharing information. The rest are from queer stall holders sharing their creations. There’s a lot to see and do. Bucky doesn’t know which way to look at times. He follows Sam’s lead. And while people look at Sam, because he turns heads wherever he goes, no one recognizes him as Captain America — well, if they do they certainly do not bother him. That is until they walk by a face painting stall and the teens running it call out.

“Captain America? Is that you?” Sam turns to face the youth and gifts them with a smile.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he replies with a wave, stopping in his tracks. “What’ve y’all got goin’ on here?”

“Oh my gosh,” one of the teens says, wide eyed.

“Face painting,” the other supplies. “Did you want us to paint yours?”

Sam looks over at Bucky, then back at the kids, and says, “Sure. Why not?”

The teens squeal in delight as Sam ambles over with Bucky at his side. They examine the examples of art designs set on the trestle table as the teens engage in chattering.

“You’re so cool.”

“We love your work.”

“Thank you for your service.”

“It’s so cool that you’re here.”

“Is this your partner?”

“Do you know Princess Shuri personally?”

Sam is happy to engage with the youth, and Bucky’s mind is stuck on the question about if they are partners. Sure, they are work partners, but Bucky can’t help but think the youngsters meant in the romantic sense. When Sam says that they are partners, Bucky feels something in his tummy: Could be butterflies, could be hope.

“There’re so many awesome designs to choose from,” says Sam, redirecting the teens focus. “Can I get a pride flag?”

“Of course!” they say happily. “Which one?”

“The Bi Flag, please,” says Sam as he takes up a seat.

“Excellent choice,” says one of the teens as they get ready to paint Sam’s face.

“What about you?” asks the other youngster getting Bucky’s attention. “Is there something that you want?”

I want to stay in this moment with Sam. I want to watch him enjoying himself. I want to bask in his happiness, Bucky muses.

“Maybe a pride flag like your partner?” they add.

 “No, thank you,” Bucky replies, his eyes darting to Sam for a second. “I umm — I wear mine on the inside?”

Sam looks to Bucky then, a soft smile on his face. Bucky hasn’t really come out to anyone in this day and age. From listening to what Sam and a few others have said, he doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to, and his sexuality is his own business.

“That’s cool,” says the youth with an understanding smile. “Here.”

They hand Bucky a lollipop which he takes with a grateful grin.

“Thank you,” he says, his eyes falling on Sam, who is looking at him with a gentleness that makes Bucky want to pull him into an embrace.

Bucky is grateful for the kindness, grateful for the wordless understanding. He does wear his pride on the inside where he keeps his blossoming feelings for Sam. It does not mean that either are not real and important to him. And maybe, with time and gentleness and understanding, he’ll be able to share those feelings with Sam. For now, he is happy to spend time with Sam when he is like this: Happy, smiling, laughing, and proud.

[valleydean]

Chapter 17 [Read Here]

CHAMPION Part III of Heavyweight a deancas boxing au by valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) read from the beginning | playlist

SUMMARY: Brooklyn, 1933. Dean Winchester, the number one contender, trains to become the next Heavyweight Champion of the World, and this time he won't let anything get in his way. Title holder Castiel Novak has second thoughts about retiring, especially when someone from his past arrives in New York and asks for his help. Meanwhile, a new contender rises to fame and threatens to complicate both of Dean and Cas' ambitions - and their relationship.

CHAPTER PREVIEW:

Dean strolled into the ICU with a box filled with Italian pastries in one hand and a white paper bag in the other. The ward was the same as ever: the frequent announcements over the speakers paging a doctor to a particular room, employees rushing around, nurses guiding slow-walking patients along the hallway for their daily exercise, and all the other intricacies Dean had become accustomed to over the last week.

He smiled and greeted some of the familiar faces, staff and patients alike, as he walked. Some of the newer faces gawked at him, a second away from asking for an autograph. Dean winked at one of the gaping kids as he passed by.

“Billie. How’s my favorite nurse?” Dean schmoozed when he approached the ward’s nurses’ station.

Nurse Billie barely glanced up at him from her paperwork. “You ask all the other nurses that, too,” she said, unimpressed.

“But do I make sure the bake shop puts in the sprinkle cookies the other nurses like? Huh?” he asked while placing the box on the counter.

She looked up at him fully, her expression still mostly neutral but also vaguely annoyed. All the same, she took the box and set it before her.

Dean slapped the counter as he slid away, sure that Billie would distribute the assorted pastries to the other nurses, like she’d done every day for the past week. “Enjoy.”

He walked in the direction of Cas’ private room toward the end of the hall, the best and biggest one money could pay for. On the way, he spotted Nurse Tessa walking in the opposite direction, her nose in a chart.

“Hey,” he called, stepping in her path. He lifted up the paper bag. “One cannoli from yours truly.”

Tessa smiled, accepting the bag. “You’re gonna make me fat.”

“Just a thanks for all your hard work,” he told her. Nodding to Cas’ room, he added, “‘Course, I’m gonna have to bring you two a day after he wakes up. Trust me, he’s not gonna be too pleasant to deal with.”

Tessa breathed out a small laugh.

Dean’s smile flickered despite how much he tried to keep it plastered on his face. Maybe she hadn’t known it, but he’d been fishing—hoping and praying she’d tell him that Cas was awake and everything was fine.

But she didn’t say that. She didn’t say anything.

Voice smaller, he asked, “How’s he doing?”

“Same as yesterday,” she said, her tone gentler. She must have seen the way Dean’s face fell, because she reminded him, “That’s not a bad thing, Dean. He’s healing well.”

A bitter smile twisted Dean’s face. “That you can tell.”

She gave him a tender look, touching his shoulder, before walking off. Dean stood still for a second, trying to brace himself against the tidal wave of emotion threatening to swell over him and trap him in its undertow. If he let that happen, he just knew he’d let himself drown.

He opened the door to Cas’ room and closed it again behind him, dropping the cheerful act he’d been putting on for the public.

The room smelled sweet and floral with how many bouquets of flowers were in vases on every surface. The orderlies did a good job at taking away the decaying ones, but it seemed like more fresh flowers were delivered every day. The same was true for greeting cards and handwritten letters from fans all over the world wishing Cas a speedy recovery. Dean had stopped reading them days ago and started tossing them into the discarded pile of envelopes on the windowsill.

A few of Jack’s drawings were around, closer to the bed. He brought a new one pretty much every day when he visited after school.

Crowley’s assistant had sent over a basket full of fruit and chocolates, as if that would somehow make up for the fact that her boss was partly the reason Cas was in the hospital in the first place.

Michael, Gabriel, and Balthazar visited most days. Anna had come twice, both times with Dean watching her like a hawk. Sam and Eileen had accompanied Dean for his visits a few times, always bringing Maura with them. Sam never said it was because he didn’t want Dean to be alone, and Dean appreciated that it went unspoken.

About a thousand people had sent gift baskets and casseroles to the house. Dean had started turning them away, because how many damn chicken casseroles could a person choke down?

And then there were the paparazzi. They followed him pretty much everywhere. Even now, they were camped outside the hospital. Dean had to call the police once or twice to get them away from the house. The damn vultures were looking for all the information they could get about Cas, and about what plans there were for the future of his career.

Balthazar had issued a statement days ago that, until Cas was fully recovered, all plans for the announcement they were supposed to make had been put on hold. The NBA didn’t make any comments either, and Dean sure as shit wasn’t going to talk, no matter how often the reporters asked him if he was going to make a bid for the belt “now that the way is clear.”

For the past week, Dean had barely left the house except to go to the gym or visit Cas. Whenever anybody asked, he said it was to avoid the paparazzi. But he wasn’t just hiding from them. He was hiding from everyone. From their sympathetic looks, somber and quiet, as if Cas was already dead.

Most of all, he was hiding from his own thoughts. The ones that said Cas was never going to wake up. The ones that cringed every time the phone rang and he was sure it’d be the doctor telling him Cas was dead. The ones that told him Cas had left him because he’d thought boxing was more important than their life together, and this time, Dean would never get him back. The ones that told him to start making funeral arrangements.

Those thoughts were a lot harder to hide from as he lay awake at night and looked at Cas’ empty side of the bed. Or when he looked at the mess Cas had left in their dresser drawers because he always expected Dean to fold the clothes back up. When he was brushing his teeth and saw Cas’ toothbrush and razor and aftershave.

Dean tried to banish all of those thoughts now as he approached Cas’ bed. Since Cas had first been checked in, some of his stitches and bandages had been removed. The patch over his eye was gone, showing off the stitches on his eyelid and the angry, puffy redness around them. Most of his bruises had run their course from deep blacks and purples to sickly greens and yellows. Some were completely faded, but others were more stubborn.

His facial hair had grown in, and Tessa had told him they needed a few more cuts on his jaw to heal before they could shave him. But at least some of the color had returned to his face. His breath wasn’t wheezy anymore, either.

“Morning, babe,” Dean said, leaning over him to press a kiss to his hairline. As he did, Cas’ ring, which Dean had put on a leather cord around his neck, slipped out from beneath his collar. Dean left it out and sat in his usual chair next to the bed.

He placed his hand on top of Cas’, still bandaged.

“Jo was over last night. She says hi,” Dean said, because Tessa had told him that talking to Cas would help. Dean didn’t know if that was true, but it couldn’t hurt—and it made him feel a little saner.

For the first time, he wondered if Tessa had meant it would help Cas or it would help him. But he guessed it didn’t matter.

Dean would keep talking, even though sometimes, he didn’t have anything to say. He just rambled and hoped that Cas would wake up and tell him to shut the fuck up.

“The dance hall she’s working at is having a week of jazz performers next month. She said Billie Holiday’s supposed to headline one night. We should go to that. It’ll be fun.”

If Cas was awake by then.

Dean dragged in a breath, hearing it rattle inside his chest. He pushed a smile.

“Anyway… Jack tell you about the new book he’s reading for school?”

[godesssiri]

10 Thrifting Tips – Part ? I lost count just check my thrifting tag

1) Make friends with the staff. If you go into a particular thrift store frequently it’s well worth it to get friendly with the staff. Ask them about their day, chat with them about what you’re buying, infodump if you’ve found something exciting and unusual. When the staff get to know you and know what you buy they’ll start pointing out things in the store that have come in since the last time you were there, that fit your interests. They may even start putting things aside for you. Recently I walked into my favorite thrift store and had 2 separate staff members say ‘Oh I’ve got something for you’. Plus having the staff greet you by name and having little inside jokes with them just makes the whole experience more fun.

2) Brita jugs turn up at the thrift store frequently. If tap water in your area is safe but has A Taste, keep an eye out at the thrift store.

3) Coffee making equipment. Capsule coffee makers, the wire racks that hold the capsules, French presses, these all get donated frequently. The occasional espresso machine comes in – and goes out very quickly. Now and then you’ll find pour-over coffee equipment. If you like your bean juice you can get the equipment you need to make fancy bean juice at the thrift store.

4) Handmade pottery mugs. Story time: About 6 or 7 years ago I went into a thrift store and someone had obviously just cleaned out their mug cupboard and donated a pile of handmade pottery. I bought 4 because I thought they were cool, very tactile, nice to hold. This AWOKE something in me. Humans have used handmade pottery for thousands of years and there’s something about holding a handmade mug that sparks a genetic memory of warmth and comfort. Pottery also has much better thermal properties than mass produced ceramic, hot stays hot longer and vice versa with cold. Build up a little collection of handmade pottery mugs from the thrift store, each one has its own personality and it brings joy using them.

5) In the same vein: teaspoons. Build up a collection of fun teaspoons and take joy from using different ones depending on your mood. I have one with an owl on the end and another with a rose, a brass one with a wiggly handle in the shape of a snake, one that has the branding of an airline that now only uses wooden stirrers - probably because people kept pocketing the stainless-steel teaspoons (I always wanted to steal one as a child but never had the nerve). Whenever I need a teaspoon it’s always a little endorphin boost to open the drawer and select the perfect one for today.

6) If you need something to do a specific job, be patient, you will find the perfect thing eventually. I switched to solid shampoo and my old soap dish wasn’t big enough to hold my shampoo bar and my regular soap, so I waited and watched and found the perfect little glass tray that was exactly the right size and fits perfectly on the shelf in my shower. I could have bought a brand new made-for-that-purpose multi soap holder, but it wouldn’t have been as cool looking and when I’m done with it, it wouldn’t necessarily get another life.

7) Gift supplies. Thrift stores often have a selection of unused gift wrap, bags, bows, cards. It’s worth it to sift through what they’ve got and buy any you think you might use – even if you don’t have an immediate use for it. That stuff can get expensive so if you can create a small stash then, when you need it, you won’t have to shell out $$.

8) Look for things that can be made over – or thrift flipped as the DIY content creators like to say. There’s so much satisfaction from looking at something that was plain ugly when you bought it and you’ve turned it into something pretty. It doesn’t need to be a major transformation that requires 5 different power-tools and 100 bucks worth of supplies. It can be as simple as a lick of paint, but every time you look at you will feel good about it.

9) Sometimes it’s worth buying something that’s just really cool and figuring out a use for it later. I bought the coolest little silver plated mustard pot; it has 3 legs and at the top of each leg is a lion head. Do I eat mustard much? No. Did I know what the heck I would use it for? No. I get bad indigestion and keep antacids on hand, I hate how once you tear open the roll, they tend to spill everywhere so I like to put them in something. Guess what holds exactly one roll of antacids? If something is just freaking awesome but you don’t know what you’d use it for, you will find a use (and it will be so much cooler than anything else you might have bought for that purpose).

10) Use the fancy stuff. Don’t ever look at something in a thrift store and think: that’s too fancy, I’ll never use it. If it’s not bought and used it ends up in landfill. Save it from the landfill and use it. Today I bought the most OTT fancy silver pepper shaker to sit next to my stove and hold ground pepper for cooking with, one of my housemates never puts the damn pepper back in the cupboard when he’s finished with it, so now we have this ostentatious silver shaker next to the stove top. One of my dogs can be relied upon to get half of his food on the floor before he hoovers it up, I could have got a plastic mat to feed him on but I had a spare thrifted marble cutting/serving board (I have a problem, I own 3, I have so much trouble resisting them), and another plus - he can’t destroy it like he would a plastic mat. I keep my toothbrush in a crystal bud vase. I decant my micellar water into a bottle shaped like a seahorse. I eat off pretty vintage pink glass plates. Using the fancy stuff from thrift stores both helps you romanticize your own life and it gives these items another life. Do be sensible though, some items made before the early 1970s including glassware and dinnerware contain lead in the decoration so do your due diligence and be safe.

[mylostloversbookmarks]

Life In The Fast Lane

Chpt 1.

Characters - Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary - What could be better than being stuck in rush hour traffic in the middle of summer? Oh yeah, how about getting your truck rear-ended by the prettiest girl you've seen in years and being late for game night with the boys?

Word Count - 2.9K

Warnings/Tags - 18+ only Minors dni. Typical canon language, Swearing, Fluffy!Frankie, Flirty!Frankie, use of pet names, mentions slight smut but nothing explicit, mentions of blood, wound cleaning, I think that's all?

A/N - I have wanted to write a series for Frankie for ages but didn't know where to start, so here it is! I hope you all enjoy! As always a massive thank you and all the love to my bby @pedgeitopascal for being the most supportive & lovely human! <3

Feedback is always appreciated!

Divider credit to @saradika

Frankie was on his way to meet up with Pope; he had arranged to pick him up and then head over to Will’s place as it was his turn to host them for tonight's big game. From what he had seen in the group chat before he got in the truck, Benny was already there, and Tom was heading over once he dropped Tess off at her friend's house.

Staring absentmindedly out the windscreen, waiting for the lights to change, Frankie lets out a loud groan, glancing at the clock. He would never hear the end of it if he was late picking Santi up.

A loud thud pulled him from his thoughts as the truck lurched forward. Standing on the brakes to avoid hitting the car in front of him that had just started rolling forward as the lights changed to amber.

He quickly glanced in his rear-view mirror and saw a woman behind the wheel of a car with a look of absolute horror on her face; it was almost comical the way her mouth hung open in a small O.

"Mierda, C’mon! I don’t need this today!" Letting out an exasperated sigh, he carded his hands through his hair as he placed the faded, well-worn baseball cap on his head, hiding his curls.

Based on what he could see from the rear-view mirror, his truck dwarfed your small, beat-up Volkswagen Polo, so there wasn’t likely to be much damage, to his truck at least.

He took a deep breath and opened the driver's door of the truck. He tried to remind himself that accidents happened all the time in the city, and it’s not as if this was anything serious. Doing his best to remain calm, he slips out of his truck and walks to the driver's side of the offending vehicle.

The woman is still sitting in the driver's seat of her car, frantically glancing between Frankie and where the two vehicles are now joined, as he approaches her window with a small, polite smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Frankie can see that she is visibly shaken, frantically trying to get her seatbelt off with trembling hands. Once she manages to remove the seatbelt from its holder, she begins frantically trying to unwind her window.

After a moment when the window remains fully closed despite her best efforts. He reaches forward and slowly opens her driver’s door. The sounds of the Eagles greeting him;

"He was a hard-headed man,

He was brutally handsome,

And she was terminally pretty.

She held him up, and he held her for ransom.

"In the heart of the cold, cold city." 

"Are you okay?" Frankie asked, his voice soft and gentle as he fully opened the driver’s door. He left his forearm hanging over the top of the door and leaned his hip against it.

He could see the worry in her eyes and immediately felt the urge to do anything he could to help her feel better—to reach out and stroke the stray strand of hair from her face so he could get a better look at her eyes.

"What the hell, Frankie?" "Get a hold of yourself, Pendejo," he scolds himself mentally.

"Uh yeah, I'm... yeah, I'm fine, I think," she stammers as she wipes a finger and thumb across her plump bottom lip, in apparent disbelief of what has just happened.

"God, I am so sorry about your truck, sir. I saw the lights turning and was getting ready to accelerate, and the car lurched forward and... into the back of your truck...but you already knew the last part." The words were flying out at a mile a minute in a guilty voice.

As if she had just been pulled over by the cops or something.

The words weren’t registering in Frankie's head; all he could think of was how beautiful she was and how pretty her mouth was when she chewed on her bottom lip. A flood of images raced past his vision—all the things he could do to those lips and what those lips could do to him.

"Sir? Are you okay?" She questioned, making to step out of her car. Her arm reached out to place a hand on his arm in concern. He met her eyes for the second time and saw that the worried crease was still very much in place between her soft brows.

"What?"  Frankie asked, dazed as he shook his head to try and erase the explicit scenes in his head.

"I said, are you okay, sir?" She repeated—was he imagining the emphasis she was putting on the last word? He did his best to ignore the tingling heat making its way up his spine. Glancing down at her hand, which was resting lightly on his bicep,

"Yeah, I'm great, thanks," he said with a grin, and instantly he was kicking himself. What a stupid thing to say after someone tailgates you!

"I mean, I'm not hurt, I'm fine," He chuckles lightly, "We should probably get off the road though, and exchange information?"

He asked with a raised eyebrow as he gestured to where the two of you were standing in the middle of the road. A steady stream of cars queued behind hers, beeping and honking impatiently.

Oh, yes, of course!" The woman responds as if shaking her own thoughts out of her head.

"I have to warn you though when I pull forward, I'm taking your bumper with me," Frankie advised grimly, rubbing a hand across his face.

"I think that’s only fair after I crashed into you, don’t you?" She replied with a giggle and a warm smile, which lit up her oval face.

"Fair point well-made, Chica," he laughed, and he couldn’t help the grin snaking his lips upward.

Both returning to your vehicles, Frankie took the lead and slowly put his foot down on the accelerator and inched the truck forward. He winced, wrinkles forming at the sides of his eyes as he heard the screeching and cracking as the woman's bumper protested.

His truck was finally released from her car, and he drove a little way down the road into a layby. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, he could see the poor battered car - missing its bumper - creeping slowly to park behind him.

He couldn’t help but smirk to himself as he watches her running her hands through her long, wavey hair and shaking her head to herself as she puts the car in park.

Frankie leaves the truck once more, eyes glued to the woman bending over her driver's side to grab a shoulder bag from the passenger footwell of her car. She stands and smooths the black sundress over her ample figure, the dress hugging her in all the right places.

He clears his throat and tears his eyes from her as she walks towards him, not watching her footing as she digs in the bag for something. She doesn’t notice the steep curb when she trips, taking the weight of the fall on her knees.

"Ouch, oh for fucks sake!" she mutters under her breath, loud enough that Frankie picks it up clearly. He loves a woman with a foul mouth. Someone who doesn’t care about being prim and proper. He wonders briefly just how dirty her mouth can get, but stops that thought in its tracks.

"Shit, are you alright?!" He asks as he rushes to help her on the sidewalk.

"Yeah, I'm good. I'm just waiting for the ground to swallow me already." She admits being clearly mortified by the whole ordeal. Swiping the dust from the sidewalk off her dress and looking down at her, Frankie can see the way she scrunches her nose.

He is certain it is the most adorable thing he has ever seen.

"I'm Y/N... Y/N Y/L/N. I am really sorry about all of this," she huffs a laugh and gestures at her car and then at herself.

"Well, Y/N, I'm Frankie Morales, and it is a pleasure to meet you, even under the circumstances," he chuckles. "Are you sure you're alright? Your leg is bleeding." He asked concern more evident in his tone than he realised.  

"Oh shit" Y/N groaned as she looked at her knee, blood quickly trickling down her leg and pooling at her white ankle sock.

"Hold on, I have a first aid kit in the cab!" Frankie sprang into action, quickly retrieving the basic first aid kit he kept in the cab of the truck in case of emergancies.

Like pretty women getting scraped knees...

He rounded to the truck bed and pulled the tailgate down and motioned for her to sit on it. Trying to hide his snicker as she struggled to hoist herself up. Watching the look of determination on Y/N’s face, he lost it, and he couldn’t help the belly laugh that broke through his lips.

"Do you need a boost, pequeño?" Still chuckling, he made his way over to stand in front of her.

"I don’t know what that means, but I'm sure it is rude to laugh at someone when they’re gravely injured." She scolds him playfully.

"It means little one, and you're right—that wasn’t very gentlemanly of me. I apologise Here, let me help you." He can see the blush creep up her neck as he reveals the meaning of the nickname.

He places two big calloused hands on either side of her waist, making eye contact before hand to check if it was okay for him to touch her, and she nods her head yes. Frankie lifts her gently onto the tailgate. She is hiding behind her hair, but he can tell she is grinning.

Y/N’s legs were dangling comically high from the back of the truck. Frankie stands in front of her, unzipping the first aid kit, locating the antibacterial wipes and a bandaid, and then zips the bag closed once more.

"May I?" Frankie gestures towards her bleeding leg, which thankfully has slowed.

"Yes, thank you," Y/N answers in a shy voice with a small nod of her head.

He lifts her foot with his left hand and softly begins to clean the blood from her ankle to her knee with his right. He does his best to ignore how good it feels to hold her soft calf in his large strong hand but he can hear her breath quickening, and he is unsure if she is in pain or if it’s caused by his close proximity.

Throwing caution to the wind, he asks, "Are you in pain, Y/N?" Voice deep and gravely. Looking into her eyes, he notices for the first time that they are the clearest shade of (Y/E/C), glistening brightly in the summer sun. Momentarily stunned, his hand stops cleaning the wound.

"No, no, I'm not in any pain, you are very gentle." She compliments him, and he grins back, satisfied that the wound is as clean as it is going to get. Frankie places the plaster over the graze on her knee. He can’t help but rub the pad of his thumb back and forth over the material a few times before pulling back.

"There we are, almost as good as new." He smiles brightly, pleased with his handy work.

"Okay, now to the nitty gritty before I have a chance to embarrass myself again. I will give you my insurance information," she mumbles as she finally reaches for the notebook and pen in her bag. She flicks through the pages until she finds a blank one and delicately jots down her first and last names.

Frankie looks back and forth between his truck and Y/N’s car; there truly was no damage to the truck, a few minor scratches where the bumper had caught, but nothing that didn’t fade to the background with the rest of the dings and dents in the old girl.

"How about we forget about the insurance? You came out of this a hell of a lot worse than I did. Physically speaking also," he says. He chuckles and gestures to the sticking plaster on her leg.

"Why don't we just exchange numbers? I know a guy that can fix your car up for cheap, and I could maybe take you out to dinner tomorrow if you would like." Frankie didn’t know what had come over him.

The words were out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying, and he was truly impressed that he didn’t stumble over them in some sort of verbal vomit like a nervous teenager.

"Are you sure? I scratched the shit out of your truck; I want to get that fixed for you!" Y/N insisted. Frankie's heart sank as she brushed over the dinner invitation, raising his hand to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly.

"No, it’s honestly fine; there are that many scrapes and scratches on this waggon, and I like to think of them as character-building." He laughs, trying desperately to hide his disappointment.

"Okay, I still feel awful, but if you could put me in touch with your friend, I would really appreciate it." Y/N nods seriously as she finishes writing on the piece of paper

She folds it in half, tries and fails to jump down from the truckbed herself, and sighs out a half-hearted laugh. She looks up at Frankie with a "Help a girl out" look and a small grin playing on her perfect lips.

Frankie places his hands on her waist again, shocked by the heat of her skin radiating through the thin fabric of her dress, and places her steadily on the sidewalk.

"Thank you for not being an asshole about this and for fixing my leg, offering your friends help, and, well, just thank you for everything. It’s been a day from hell." Y/N laughs, and the sound tinkles through Frankie like a lullaby.

"Sure, it's no problem, pequeño" he grins at her deep blush, "if your free tomorrow I can get my buddy to take a look, I can put your bumper in the back of the truck if you like?" He offers. 

"Oh yeah, that would be perfect! I have no plans for tomorrow, so just whenever works best for you, Frankie." The way his name rolled off her tongue so innocently had Frankie clearing his throat nervously.

Okay, I will call you tomorrow then?." He asked in confusion; she still hadn’t given him her information.

"I’d like that." She smiled shyly back at him, the most tempting pink creeping across her cheeks.

"Um, you have to give me your number for me to call it Y/N." He chuckled, scratching at the back of his neck again.

"Oh fuck, I'm an idiot." She let her head fall into her hands in embarrassment, and Frankie was glad she couldn’t see him right now. The way she almost moaned that word was torturing him, and he had to readjust the way he stood as he felt his pants tightening ever so slightly.

"Jesus Frank, reign it in; she doesn’t even want to have dinner with you, let alone anything else," he thought to himself harshly. This woman was affecting him far more than any stranger should be able to.

Y/N held her hand out with the folded note between her thumb and index finger. The slight tremble in her hand didn’t go unnoticed by either of them, but Frankie chose not to acknowledge it; it was probably just leftover adrenaline from the crash anyway.

"Thanks, Y/N," he took the paper from her, held it in one hand, and tapped it against the palm of his other.

"Okay, I guess I’ll hear from you tomorrow?" She asked, and Frankie was sure he could hear the hope in her voice as he nodded back.

"You sure will, Hermosa," Frankie replied without thinking, and it was his turn to blush.

Okay, that sounds good. I will speak to you tomorrow. It was great to meet you, Frankie."

He just smiled as he watched from the side of his truck. Walking back to her little beat-up Polo, climbing into the front seat, and driving away with a grin on her pretty face.

Frankie has to take a second before he moves, running his hand over the fresh dent and scratches on the back of the truck. Smiling to himself at how a perfect stranger had effectively turned him into a teenager again,

He lifts the bumper and places it gently into the bed of the truck, pulling the cover down over top, and then secures the tailgate.

Y/N just seemed so good and sweet. "Any wonder she didn’t want to go to dinner with me?" he thought to himself.

He climbs back into the cab of the truck and opens the piece of paper she had given him. The first thing he notices is how lovely her handwriting is, and scrawled elegantly across the page is her telephone number and a message that reads:

"I would love to go to dinner with you, Frankie."

He holds the piece of paper between both hands, sure that if he lets it go, it will disappear. Grinning ear to ear, his phone starts ringing, and he lifts it from the passenger seat without looking at who is calling.

"Hello?" He asks, aware of how dopey he sounds as he stares at the note in his hand.

Frank, where the hell are you? You were supposed to be here a half hour ago!" Pope half yells down the phone at him.

"Calm down, I got into a bit of an accident. Im okay though; she was a happy accident." He grins down the line. "I’ll be over in five." He hangs up on Pope and places the note in his sun visor for safekeeping until tomorrow.

Excited at the idea of seeing her again and the night ahead with the boys, he flicks his indicator on and merges into the traffic heading to Santiago’s with the dopiest grin splitting his face.

A/N -

Pequeño ~ Little one

Hermosa ~ Beautiful

[lichenes]

do you write smut for sandra ? <3 shes so fine i would love some wlw smut

!!! i love my evil bisexual queen Sandra... idk if she killed him, all women deserve one kill per week tbh. (she looks soooo pretty in that gif... good god.) Enjoy :** Sandra Voyter x fem!reader CW: porn with plot, consent is sexy<33, sub!reader, fingering, eating out, NSFW wc: 948

_____✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿_____

Checking the adress for the hundreth time you rung the doorbell waiting for a response. "Hi, I'm... Samuel." Said the burly man greeting you at his door. He looked you up and down as if to asses you. You weren't sure what went through his mind but he must've blown it off because the next second he was inviting you to their house.

"Sandra is just in the living room." Entering the house you immediately spotted her, lounging on her dingy armchair and your breath got caught in your throat. You knew from the pictures that she was stunning but in real life she looked positively ravishing. You felt your knees go weak as she invited you to sit down on the armchair opposed to her.

"P.I.M.P." started being blasted upstairs as she got up to greet you. "It's my husband he's... insulating the roof." You nodded sympathetically.

Before sitting down you introduced yourself extending your hand towards her. She shook your hand with a certain tenderness. "Tea? Coffee?" She asked jas if she were suddenly rejuvenated. "Wine?" She added pointing to her own glass. You chuckled. "Since you've opened it, I guess it'd be a shame to let it go to waste."

You spent the late morning chatting away, not wanting it to end you kept coming up with questions not included in your interview's intenerary. "Are you sure the publishers asked you to question me about my favourite colour?" Sandra said with a drunken giggle. Your cheeks got hot, pretending you were certain it did indeed matter. You were chalking up her redness to the drunken stupor but in reality, she was enjoying your shy little questions.

When she was escorting you out she pulled out her business card from the little paper holder next to her door and handed it to you. "In case you have any more questions Madame." You curtsied awkwardly and walked, away your cheeks still hot with excitement.

You weren't sure what you were doing, performing a booty call of sorts? You've been texting with Sandra for a while and it became apparent that you were made for eachother, at least in your eyes. Maybe it was the heat of the moment, maybe the fact that you haven't been satisfied with any of your recent hookups. Possibly the stress of her going to jail soon. None of it mattered actually.

"Yes?" Sandra answered with a worried tone, you've never called her before. "I..." you found yourself unable to formulate any coherent thoughts. "Sandra... I need you." She hung up. You looked at the screen displaying her name, hurt but not shocked. How could you have done something so stupid? You've ruined everything.

Twenty minutes later you were taking a cold shower, attempting to quench the thirst you were feeling for her. And then the doorbell rung.

Sandra was standing in your bedroom's doorway panting, ready to pounce on you. "Sandra I-" You were standing opposite her in a towel only. Your wet hair was sticking to your forehead and you could feel yourself getting more anxious by the minute. She launched at you animalistically grabbing you face and smashing her lips into yours.

You were floored by her forwardness. She always presented herself as confident but you never thought that she would be this bold. Deepening the kiss, you put your hands on her waist pulling her closer. She was fillling up all your senses with pure lust and adoration.

Time stopped when she put her knee in between your thighs, feeling the heat emanating from your core. Sandra broke the kiss and looked deep into your eyes. "Do you really want this?" She said almost panting. You nodded fervently. "No, no. Use your words."

Your words got stuck in your throat as you attempted to choke out an enthusiastic 'yes'. Fortunately she didn't need any more convincing and ripped the towel off of you pushing your breathless form onto the bed.

Minutes passed and you got increasingly more and more desperate. She refused to do anything else besides groping you as if to tease you even more. "I wanna... see you Sandra..." You said in betweeen kisses. She looked at you with an evergrowing desire and tore down all her clothes, as if in one fell swoop.

She kneeled on the bed. Her hand returned back to your thighs spreading them and entering one finger into you. You shivered at the sudden intrusion. She reassured you by shushing your anxieties away. With a questioning look she asked. "Are you sure?" As if to tease you she put a second finger in and you gasped out a quiet "Yes, fuck... please."

She didn't waste any more time. Sandra leaned down and gave two kitten licks to your clit. You went cross eyed from that alone but when she put her whole mouth on you, you went cross-eyed. "Fuck... Sandra..." You gasped. She kept sliding the two and soon three fingers in and out making you go crazy.

Moments of bliss passed as she continued her work. You were approaching your edge not wanting it to end so soon. "Sandra, please! I'm- oh god." With a final thrust Sandra hit that one spot inside you which made you see stars as you came, honestly and truly spent. After you came off of your high you asked her "What about you?" She shushed you and gave you a mind-numbing kiss.

You laid like this for quite a while and for a moment you could feel yourself drifting to sleep. Sandra grabbed your cheeks and placed a delicate kiss on your lips. "I have to go... call me again soon." She added quietly. "Please."

_____✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿_____ masterlist

[fernthewhimsical]

Original Content Masterpost

A masterpost for all original content (I could find) here on this blog. Some of it is old and doesn't really apply to my path anymore, so please be aware of the dates. In no particular order.

Magic and Spells: Enchanted Spoon rack Burnable Spellboxes Spell Sugars How I made Spellcandles LED Spellcandles I LED Spellcandles II Full Moon Powder See the Truth Poppet Spell Binding and Banishing Jar Pride Witchcraft WarWitch Spellbottle Pendant Imbolc Creativity Spell Litha Spell Samhain Remembrance Sigil Samhain Remembrance Spell Stones for the Cosmic Witch Elemental Bottles Reclaiming Sigil Strength Bindrunes Daily Practice with Sigils

Text Posts: Gender in Witchcraft, pt. 1 Gender in Witchcraft, pt. 2 Write your Witchcraft WYW original questions Travel Altar Challenge MTG cards as oracle deck Birthday Magic Fiction as Shadow work The magic of fabrics

Witch Tips: You’re allowed to have pretty things House Candle Holders Enchant your Keys Snow Globe Home Cleansing Spell Recipe Cards Moonwater Washi Tape Candles Baby Blessing (reply) Save your Apple Seeds

Poetry: Stars Moon phases Nehalennia Find Me, Sister (Baduhenna) Wings

Art Grimoire: Moon phases Moons of the Year Star Stuff Perpetual Wheel of the Year the Festivals Elements Make your Mark Altered Cover My Grimoires

Art: Queer Witch Witchy Self Portrait Botanical BOS cover Travel altar miniature Travel altar miniature 2 Altar Hearth Prayer Beads Sleep Spelljar Magic Mirrors Mini Moonstone Runes Imbolc Greeting Card Autumn and Pronoun Pins Galaxy Drum Labyrinth Travel Altar

Deity: Sources of Dutch deities masterpost Fern’s Introduction to Nehalennia Fern’s Introduction to Cernunnos Fern’s Introduction to Baduhenna Fern’s Introduction to Liyesa Deity Bindrunes Nehalennia Candle Shrine Nehalennia Wood Statue Nehalennia Mood Board Baduhenna: Valkyrie or Dutch Morrigan? Offering Bowl Restoration Baduhenna Mood Board Baduhenna Drawing Cernuna? Liyesa Mood Board Stardew Valley Shrines Cozy Grove Nehalennia Shrine Nemetona and Sacred Space Nemetona Mood Board Elen of the Ways Art Page Arcanua, Dutch deity of magic and the dawn? Journey through the Gods (personal) Dutch Deity Oracle Cards

Personal Practice: (mostly photos) Temple Room (wip) Bedside Altar Spooky Story Time! 2019 Wicker Wolf Shell Collection Litha Altar Self Care Altar Ancestor Altar (reply) Old Altar pic Old Altar tour Leiden Botanical Gardens

[Updated Feb 11th 2023)]

[telleroftime]

Coffee ||| Gavin Reed x Reader

You've always had a crush on the unapproachable detective, and finally it seems he's returning the interest.

———————————————

Request - Anonymous : Can I request a Gavin Reed x Reader. I don't really care what, but can it be fluff? :)

Pairing: Gavin Reed x Gender Neutral ! Reader

Relationship: Romantic

Tone: Fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

Oneshot Masterlist

A/N: I’m finally getting to answering requests. University has been... something alright. I'm sorry for the wait. There will be more Gavin fluff to come in the future too, if this wasn’t fluffy enough. Plus the other requests I'm yet to write! (Reposting this because I had to fix the tag issue)

———————————————

It was nearing midday when you arrived at the Detroit Police Station to start your shift, two cups of steaming coffee in your left hand, carried neatly in a cardboard holder. The bright light of the high sun was enough to fuel the smile on your face. The gentle breeze of late spring pushed you forward. Simply put, you were lucky today. 

The altered hours meant you didn't have to wake up at the crack of dawn, instead sleeping in for a little while longer. You could take your morning routine slow and steady, and finish writing and preparing the documents for the day to come. Your apartment was cleaned before you could so much as dirty it, and you were practically ready to return home from the job you were yet to begin.

It also meant that when you left your home you had just missed the initial wave of customers and usuals you always saw queuing up inside of your favourite café. It was empty when you entered – your ride parked outside – and it was empty when you left the building, satisfied with your order. Now, you were scanning your DPD identification card on the staff entry after greeting the receptionists. There was a very obvious bounce of eagerness in your step that caused the small heels of your work shoes to clack against the dark, tiled floor.

Clack clack clack as you walked through the small plastic gates that marked the border of one large room from the other.

To your surprise, as you walked along the windowed wall, the bullring was primarily empty. There were no heads peeking from past the plexiglass that functioned as dividers. No laughter of the detectives that worked diligently at their decorated desks. And other than the quiet voices of policemen coming from the break room and the Captain's muffled responses to a phone call coming from inside his office, the overall room was uncharacteristically quiet. Even as you moved to where your eyes kept flickering, constantly glancing at the empty desk of a particular detective, the silence persevered for long enough to etch a childish pout onto your lips. Like most other seats, Gavin’s was empty.

Gavin Reed. Through the weeks you've got to know him, and even since just starting your job as a forensic pathologist at the station, you started to recognise your blooming crush for the detective. And ever since you have, your actions were quite the opposite of 'subtle'. In your eyes, there was no reason to pretend they weren't there. You liked the guy, and you weren't going to hide from those emotions.

You've left him chocolates; small snacks; little trinkets you believed he would like. Well, trinkets that disappeared from his near-empty desk the very next day, but no matter. You even started leaving some cheesy pick up lines that made you chuckle, written neatly on cream sticky notes you carried in your coat pocket out of a forced habit. You tried suggesting outings, yet he always ignored your suggestions. Brushed you off for the lack of a better word.

And now, with the steadily cooling coffee cups in hand, it wasn’t much different.

Slowly, you stepped around the short wall and towards the empty desk, glancing around in hopes of catching his eye. You knew he was here, if the slight blue glow of the power switch on the monitor was anything to go by. His jacket was draped on the back of his chair, and a small drop of a dark drink was splashed next to a ring of moisture. There were papers on the desk too, placed a little ways away from where a mug had obviously been placed, paired with blurry images of undisclosed origin. A new case he was working on you assumed. 

Nevertheless, with another look around, your right hand gingerly pushed the documents to the side, not bothering to neaten them into an even stack. You prioritised removing the paper coffee cup from the holder, politely labelled 'Hot Stuff' as per your request, and placing it down in the now clear centre of the surface. You just hoped he wasn't too full or caffeinated from whatever he had beforehand.

Quickly reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your trusty sticky notes and reached for the ballpoint pen that sat in the breast pocket of your work issued shirt. Tapping the butt end of the pen against your chin, you blinked in thought before your lips twitched up and you scribbled down a little message on the small square of paper, a terrible pun you hoped would make his day. You didn't hesitate sticking it on the white plastic of the cup.

“Words cannot espresso how much you bean to me.”

You practically flinched at the sound of the deep voice that appeared out of nowhere, your right hand darting for the remaining cup of coffee in the holder to keep it steady as you spun around, sucking in a sharp breath at the proximity you had to Gavin. A breath that caused the man to take a step back with a slight cock of his head. Detective Reed was standing in front of you, his body weight resting on his hip as his arms crossed in front of his chest, eyebrows raised in what you assumed was humour.

And yet neither of you spoke until the silence began to threaten to thicken in the layer of awkwardness.

"Sorry detective," you began, averting your eyes and looking anywhere but at him, "I didn't see you at your desk so I thought I'd just leave the coffee here. It's still hot."

What was hot was the heat in your face, your cheeks and ears no doubt a shade darker than before. Your lips had contorted into a mix of a wonky smirk and the visible effort of you trying to straighten them. Your jaw was clenched, your breathing forced down to a steady pace on your will alone. Refusing to look back, finding the uneven flicker of a distant light quite entertaining, your eyes moved to him when a short puff of hair escaped him.

You could see a sparkle in his dark eyes, the very same you fell in love with. The very same you bought coffee for. Yet this was the first time he willingly confronted you instead of keeping his distance. This-

“What are you doing this weekend?”

What?

With the way his brows furrowed, causing his scar to crease against his skin in the process, you were certain that your bewildered expression was caught by the man. However, other than actively avoiding your wondrous gaze, he didn’t take any action to move or to clarify his words and the meaning behind them. The most he did was readjust his crossed arms and scratch the stubble at the base of his jaw.

“Nothing. I should be free.”

A beat of silence passed, your heart fluttering with hope. Then he nodded.

“Meet me at the café down the street at two in the afternoon. Saturday.”

Did he…?

“Okay!”

You felt your spirit physically lift your body, eagerness blooming in your mind at Gavin's words. Genuine joy made your eyes no doubt shine, feeling them grow wetter as more of his words processed and your vision grew slightly blurry because of the saline. He just asked you out on a date. You couldn't believe it. The grin on your lips couldn’t have been bigger as you nodded, feeling your body grow in energy with the increasing serotonin. Your cheeks stung at the intensity of your smile. You were so happy.

However, before you could add to the conversation, your lips frozen ajar, you heard your name be called from the other side of the room, forcing you to excuse yourself and officially start your shift.

“I’ll see you then, Detective!”

Gavin Reed has asked you out on a date.

———————————————

Oneshot Masterlist

[jenicca-tribute]

The Hidden Perks of Having a Grand Bust: Storage Space Galore

Greetings, fashion-forward and bodaciously blessed readers! Today, we’re diving into the lighter side of living with a grand bust. When your bosom is so bountiful, who needs a purse? Let’s explore the endless possibilities of what you can tuck away in that ample cleavage!

The Mobile Phone Dock

Forget those fancy phone holders. With a grand bust, you’ve got a built-in dock! Whether you’re slipping it in for a hands-free experience or simply keeping it warm on chilly days, your cleavage is the ultimate smartphone accessory. Just be ready for some vibrating surprises during unexpected calls!

Snack Bar

Who needs a snack bag when your bust can serve as a pantry on the go? Tucked between layers of security, you can carry everything from granola bars to a small bag of chips. Just lean forward, and voila—snack time is anytime!

The Lipstick Lounge

For the makeup enthusiasts, who needs a makeup bag when your cleavage can hold all your touch-up essentials? From your favorite lipstick to a mini mascara, your bust is the beauty counter that keeps on giving. Just be sure to balance things out—no one wants to look lopsided when pulling out a lip gloss!

Secret Cash Stash

Planning a night out or just don’t want to carry a wallet? Your cleavage can securely store your cash and cards, turning your bust into a treasure chest! Just remember where you put everything to avoid awkward moments at the checkout line.

Emergency Kit

From band-aids to a small bottle of hand sanitizer, why not pack a mini emergency kit in there? With enough space to rival a small purse, your bust can be prepared for any minor crisis. Plus, it’s always a conversation starter!

In conclusion, having a grand bust isn’t just about navigating the challenges; it’s about embracing the quirky perks that come with it. From a personal snack bar to a secret storage compartment, your cleavage isn’t just a fashion statement—it’s a lifestyle! So next time you think about downsizing, remember all the fun and function you might be missing out on.