Roman x Reader - I’m Leaving.

Request: “having a fight with Roman because you don’t want to be a trophy anymore, but in fact he loves you a lot.”

First of my request posts, I really enjoyed writing this one and I’m definitely going to complete the others I have waiting in my inbox. Remember if you’ve sent one, I am getting to it. I really enjoyed this and I have another one coming later on that I completed tonight as well. If you have a request, feel free to send it in and then just stay tuned!

Happy reading! Feedback is truly appreciated, that way I know to bother writing more. 

Since the beginning, I always had my concerns about how I would be treated within my relationship with Roman. Of course though, time and time again he reassured me that I would be treated like gold, because that’s what I deserved. But as time has gone on, and Roman has become more comfortable around the likeliness of me leaving, he has begun to compromise the way he treats me. When I realised that Roman seemed to care much less about my feelings and the impact his actions and words had on them, I was distraught. Before the first few times he began to hurt me mentally and emotionally, everything was perfect. I was so sure he was going to follow through with his claims at the beginning of our relationship, so trusting in his promises and commitments that it stopped occurring to me that some day, this might change.

Now I find myself sitting alone in our large bedroom, with my back against the door, crying my eyes out over yet another harsh blow of nasty comments and accusations against me, from none other than Roman. I felt heartbroken, completely and utterly lonely, with no way out and no one to blame but myself. Why did I trust him in the first place, I knew better than to believe a word he said once upon a time, if only I hadn’t given in. He seemed so sincere, but then again it wasn’t unlike Roman to lie in order to get what he wanted and this was not an unknown fact.

For weeks, Roman had been distant. Cold and unlike the Roman I knew, within our relationship anyway. I knew what he was capable of, but I was shocked nonetheless because I never thought he was capable of it with me. He had been telling me I meant nothing to him, telling me he didn’t need me anymore and that I was just a distraction. Reminding me that he could have anyone he wanted and making it obvious that I wasn’t good enough. All of these things would be traumatic for anyone to hear, but I loved Roman, I loved him with all of my heart and soul and I truly thought that this was the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with, which made it all the more painful to watch everything come crashing down.

By my door I stayed, having my very own pitty party; my eyes were red and sore, cheeks tear stained and puffy. I was exhausted, both emotionally and physically. I got up, locked the door and made my way in to the bath, hoping that a soak amongst some bubbles and a glass of my favourite red would ease my nerves. I sunk into the hot water and allowed myself to float away, thinking of all the reasons I should stay, but mostly all of the reasons I should go.

My bath was soon interrupted by an obnoxiously aggressive knock on the bedroom door. Deciding not to reply, or even acknowledge the existence of whoever was on the other side of the door, I sunk further in to the bath with my ears under the water, enjoying the sound of nothing but my heartbeat.

Before I knew it I was being pulled out of the water and my daydream by a pair of rough hands, that grabbed at my face and called for my attention. “Y/N! Baby?” a very distressed voice shook me to reality, opening my eyes and looking in to Roman’s concerned eyes, I frowned. “What?” I asked coldly, wondering what the hell he was so worried about, I was only having a bath.

“You weren’t answering me, I came in to apologise and you weren’t responding, you look so pale, what’s wrong?” His face was clouded with worry, as he tilted his head at me and awaited an answer. Don’t get me wrong, Roman truly cared about me usually, but more often than not lately, he certainly wasn’t showing it. I had cried so many tears and lost so much sleep over it all, I had become numb to it, careless even. Losing all concern for my own wellbeing, drifting in to a void of depression and isolation. I stared at him blankly, registering his features, admiring his beautiful face. His lips were parted, his eyes scanning mine for anything that told him what was going on, unsuccessfully, so he asked me once again, “you’re scaring me, please tell me what’s happening? I know you’ve been crying, I can see it in your face, you’re not yourself..” he trailed off, growing more worried as I sat in the bath, his hands still wrapped firmly around my shoulders, keeping me above the water as I sat there, a shell of myself, mulling over in my mind what to say.

“Please, I just want to be alone.” I held eye contact, remaining cold and rigid, immune to all feeling in that moment, completely out of tears and heartache, my body too exhausted to respond like I usually would. “Baby… please.” He trailed off, eyes glazing over, worry stricken features contorting at me, becoming so concerned he could barely cope, never having seen me like this before. I sighed, having only asked once but already losing my patience, more so at the situation as a whole. “Y/N, I’m not leaving this fucking bathroom until you tell me what’s happening here.” A tear fell from his eye, out of stress more than anything else, fear as well, probably. It was a common misconception that Roman was completely exempt from feeling, anything at all for that matter. This was un-true, being with him in the way that I have, I learned quickly that this man was no monster, one just lived inside of him. He loved me, I knew that he did, but his ways of showing it had grown weary and I couldn’t cope with the mental abuse any longer, I just would not and could not survive it, plain and simple.

“Roman..” I began, choosing my words carefully as to not repeat myself, “you and I both know that lately you’ve been treating me horribly. Like a possession, a trophy you’ve won through a game I no longer want to play, that I never wanted to play.” I removed his hands from my shoulders, standing and stepping out of the bath and in to my favourite fluffy white bathrobe. “You have made me mentally and emotionally so exhausted, that I feel it physically. In these past few weeks, months even, I have cried myself to sleep constantly, and that’s if I’m lucky. I truly,” I stopped, choking on sobs as I tried my hardest to remain strong, confident and sure of what I was saying. Although truth be told I’m not sure I was, I was scared to say what I know I needed to, and it was because I knew I needed to that I continued through it. “I truly don’t think, that I can go on like this..” His body went rigid, defensive, as he realised the seriousness of my words. “What are you trying to say Y/N.” He grew angry, I guess because it was one of the only ways he knew to react to something he didn’t like.

“I’m saying that I think I need to leave, you’re poisoning me and I’m so tired, I’m tired Roman, you promised me! You promised me you wouldn’t hurt me, and do you wanna know the kicker? I fucking believed you.” My voice became louder as my anger grew, realising that I tolerated this so much longer than I should have. “Please don’t do this Y/N, please don’t leave me.” He fell back on the bed, losing his balance and sitting with his head in his hands, eyes wide with realisation, knowing exactly what I meant with my words, knowing exactly what he had done. “Baby please, I’m sorry. I should never have treated you the way I have been, I’ve lost myself and all of my progress. All of those things I promised you, I meant them, give me a chance to make it up to you, I swear I’ll never mess up again.”

“How could I trust you now? You have no idea the toll this has taken on me, the things you’ve made me feel..” I cried silently, struggling to keep my voice steady and my eyes clear of tears.

He turned and pulled something from his bedside table, walking to me and dropping to his knees in complete defeat, opening a small velvet box to reveal the most beautiful diamond ring I ever had seen. I covered my mouth in disbelief, more tears than I knew I was capable of creating spilling out over my eyes as I watched the man I loved, completely over come with grief at the thought of me leaving, when he clearly had permanent plans to make me a very big part of his life, for the rest of his life.

“I planned on giving this to you next week, I was still planning how to do it.” He sniffed, wiping his eyes and looking up at me, still on his knee, displaying this ring that was intended for me. “I promise to never make you cry for the wrong reasons again, only ever happy tears or none at all. I promise to treat you like you’re meant to be treated, I promise to uphold what I swore to you before you agreed to be with me. I promise to be yours completely, and you mine. I promise to love you every single second of every day, for the rest of my life, and longer.” He had silent tears leaving his eyes, looking up at me with so much sorrow in them that I couldn’t bear but smile softly at him, hearing his words and feeling my heart grow warm for the first time in what felt like forever. I grabbed his hands and pulled him gently to his feet, securing myself against his chest with my arms around his neck.

He pulled me close, his hands on the bottom of my back, our foreheads against one another’s, enjoying the silence. “I promise to love you, every single second of every day, for the rest of my life, and longer.” I said back, smiling against his lips, kissing them passionately.

“I love you so much Y/N, I’m sorry baby.”
“It’s okay, I’m sorry too. Please just be the person I know you truly are, I love that person and I know you do too.”

He placed the ring on my finger, where it would stay, for the rest of our lives, and longer.  

You’re Beautiful

Originally posted by jeonbase

A/N: So, this may just become a thing. I’ve been saying that in my tags when I posted the last POC scenario and imagine, and now, because I am putting in the time and effort; I think it’d be best to start adding in these types of stories. Representation is definitely important, and if I can help make more stories relatable for people like myself, why not? :)

P.S. If by any chance, at some points within the story it doesnt make since, something doesn’t fit, or seems too corny, I apologize. >.< Im trying 

Genre: Fluffy like a yorkie, but with a pinch of angst.

Pairing: Y/N x Suga

Word Count: 7726 (Oh so long! XD)

“This is too stressful,” you huff and plant another chip in your mouth, “like, he’s making me sweat.” As you aimlessly search for shows on Netflix to watch, you slump further into the bag of chips you’ve deemed as your safe place, and whimper. “Like, who told him to be that hot and be casually nice, and smell good,” you scoff. “And I don’t even pine for guys like that! Not that it’s an issue of race, but just in general—the whole male population as a whole.“ 

 "Uh-huh,” your best friend agrees nonchalantly. 

“No, like I can totally feel your overboard support through my phone,” you smirk, but smile because even you know that you’re being silly. You’ve almost forgotten how it feels to have a crush, and the giddiness makes you excited and smiley for no reason. You fall back onto your bed with an ‘oof,’ and spread out from your previous sitting position. 

 "What? I’m listening,“ she replies, and you can hear her flip through pages—of what you guess—a magazine. “I’ve been here for almost an hour listening to you talk about your crush diligently, and haven’t said a word." 

"My point exactly,” you respond and sigh. 

“So, what do I do?” You press another chip to your tongue, and at this point, you feel like you could almost inhale the bag. 

“How about you just talk to him and see where that goes?" 

"Like start out slow and act friendly, and then maybe ease into a dating?” you ask, and you form a small frown. “I don’t think I can though, like what do we talk about? He probably doesn’t even know I exist." 

"That’s why you have to break the ice and just start off slow. If he can get a chance to know about you, then maybe something’ll happen,” your friend sounds hopeful. “Yeah, but it’s almost like we’re a worlds apart,” you whine. “We’re so different." 

"And?” your friend challenges. “Different isn’t bad, and you better figure this out soon before someone else snags him." 

"Wow, how encouraging,” you mutter, but you know she’s right. Like always. This doesn’t have to be difficult, but something’s just holding you back. Whether it’s the difference of cultural backgrounds, or the more outwardly-obvious reasons; taking a step towards this guy just seems…like, what’s the use? “I get what you’re saying though, because I’ve seen other women look at him likes a piece of meat." 

"Well, I have to keep it one hundred with you. I wouldn’t be a good friend if I let you think that you have forever, or by a miracle he’ll just fall in love with you at love at first sight,” she replies. “But before we hang up, because I have to meet my man for dinner; if by chance this does develop into something, he’d be one lucky dude. You’re a catch, don’t worry." 

"Awe, thank you,” you reply, and your frown literally start reversing itself. “Goodnight." 

"Night, honey,” she responds. When the phone beeps to signal that the call ends, you toss your phone onto your bed and wipe your hands on a nearby napkin. 

You’re standing up from your prolonged sitting position and your joints and muscles pop, as you stretch. Walking to your walk in closet, before you enter, you flick on the light switch. A faux crystal chandelier glimmers above your head, and brightens up your wardrobe selection. You have clothing pieces for each season, varying in different colors, and shoes and accessories to match. Needless to say, you’re proud of your collection. It’s not too much, but it’s more than enough to enjoy yourself. Nothing in your closet is too overly priced, except for maybe some shoes and a couple handbags or clutches. But you always try to purchase soberly, and not splurge on something you’ll only wear once. So as you stand in front of your clothes, you’re surprised when you feel like you have nothing to wear. In front of him. 

As you mull over outfits and possible scenarios of how you’d guys meet, you wonder when you’d make time for a relationship in general. You have a job, and school itself is almost relentless. You cannot and will not let your grades drop, bc that’s your ticket to an overseas schooling program that you need. The opportunity to travel and learn in regards to your career at the same time, it’s exciting and it could be an eye opening experience. At this, your frown starts making a comeback. 


“Am I stupid?” you ask yourself. “Come on, before he gets away,” you whisper to yourself. Sitting on a bench, off to the side of the park next to your local basketball court, you watch Yoongi playing basketball, and you feel shady. You wonder if this could count as stalker tendencies. You don’t watch like this all the time, but on rare occasions that you can just sit and watch him shoot three-pointers all day—because he is just that good—you get mesmerized and admire secretly. You sigh. The breeze smooths past your skin lazily, and though the sun is bright and out, the temperature outside says otherwise. Which is why you bundled in a decently padded coat, a scarf, and beanie. You have no gloves, and you almost regret it, because your pockets aren’t doing enough.

“Still watching from afar, I see,” your friend observes. She sits beside you and hands you a red to-go Starbucks cup. 

You sigh dramatically and take the offering with a wide smile, “You shouldn’t have, but I’m glad that you did. And, yes. I’m still admiring. I mean, look at him.”

“He’s good,” she agrees. Noticing off to the corner of your eye, you see she almost scoots forward, and she chuckles, “Did he change his hair color? That hair used to be black.”

“Looks good doesn’t he? It’s different, and I just want to run my fingers through it. Maybe give him a nice scalp massage while I’m at it.”


“Like the cream,” you agree and laugh heartily. You’re not joking, because you’d really do it too. Not paying attention, because you were laughing too much at your own joke, you look back up to the basketball court and pause when you notice Yoongi’s gaze directed towards you. This makes you laughter halt immediately and you just stare back. After a small moment, when your friend nudges you to do something, you just bashfully look down at your hands and muster up the courage to at least wave. Nothing much, just a wave and as much a friendly smile as you can muster. Your hopeful when you notice he starts waving back, because that means you weren’t just imagining things. However, your face starts to morph into confusion when you notice some girl grabbing a hold of his attention. 

“Did she just vajay-block you?” your friend asks. Any other time you would’ve just laughed and maybe snort, but it only just brings forth a small quirk of the mouth. 

“Block what? We were just waving at each other,” you brush off. Deep down though, you feel a pang at disappointment, though you don’t expect him ignore others just because you guys have a small moment. You’re sure that your face shows this, because your friend just rubs you on the back.

“Hey, you’re going to do fine,” she says softly. 

“How? I can barely wave at him without being shy about it, and she just flat out, practically sprinted towards him,” you counter, and you want to slump in your spot. You can’t help but to take mental notice of her appearance too. She’s petite, with long soft wavy hair, that’s gray with subtle lavender highlights, olive skin, hazel eyes, and just overall beautiful. You abruptly stand up, get you book bag, and exit stage left with your friend right behind you.

Sipping on your third cup of coffee for the day, you’re seated in front your homework for the week, and reading your textbook diligently. You’re at a Starbucks a block away from your university and letting the breeze hit you outside, because the inside is too crowded. You pay no mind to the strangers passing you by and trekking up the steps to get inside the warm building. All you want to do is eat your favorite chips, sip coffee, finish some work for the day, and get on with your life. However, you’re confused when someone stops by your table.

Taking the chance to look up, your eyes grow wide when you see Yoongi smiling down at you. His platinum blond hair is covered in a black beanie, and he’s sporting a white Nike sweatshirt with matching bottoms, and the sleeves pushed up his forearms. The look compliments his athletic habits, and your heart almost skips a beat, and you want to look away before you body doesn’t want to.  At some point, the silence is moving sluggishly, and you start to feel subconscious. Your mind begins to nit-pick everything you feel like are flaws. You hair hasn’t been the most cooperative today, so as time went along, you just wrapped your hair into a cute donut bun, though it’s—to you—noticeably wanting to gain friz. You think you may be slightly bloated, and somewhere around lunch, you’re sure that your matte lipstick has started to dry and is cracking, though you’ve haven’t noticed any real damage done. 

You’re not sure what to say, and almost go back to reading when neither of you say anything. As you start to brush him off, you notice the confusion in his eyes, and Yoongi steps closer to your table and knocks on the wood. “Hi, I think I saw you at my—the basketball game at the park earlier,” he says, looking hopeful. His smile is brought back, and you almost get the lost in the charm of his eyes before you respond. 

“Yeah, hi,” you reply and stand, while holding out your hand to shake his, “My name’s—”

“Y/N, I know. We have a few classes together,” he grins and latches onto your hand, and you notice a small blush form on his alabaster skin. You just nod, but no words come out, and you’re both left in silence again. With his hand still in yours, and you notice how his long fingers caress your hand softly. He gives your hand a small squeeze, “Well, I noticed that you’re studying and don’t want to be in the way, so I’ll just go get coffee and then leave.” You smile and just nod again. 

“See you around,” you say hopefully, and he gives you a bright smile and says that he hopes so. As he leaves, like clockwork, the giddiness returns and you wonder where your firm stance to stop crushing on him went. Nonetheless, though you fight the smile trying to take control of your face, you also want to squeal a little. 

Low and behold, you guys do meet again the next day. Only a few hours after dawn, of all the days you try to sleep in, you accidentally start your day late and in a frenzy. You have to speed through the halls of your campus building to not miss your test. The moment you turn a corner and feel yourself bump into another person, you brace yourself to apologize profusely and possibly crash onto the floor. However, on impact, someone catches you in their arms and helps you to regain your balance and not fall. “Woah,” Yoongi chuckles, and you feel like the day couldn’t start off any better, “somewhere to be?” 

“My first class this morning starts with a test I’ve been cramming for, and I can’t afford to miss it,” you reply, and try not to wheeze all over him. You want to hide your face and just be swallowed into a hole. You wanted to sprint to him, but not run him over. That, and he still hasn’t let go. You have to shake your mind out of the fog, when you start to notice how good it feels to be his arms and how it’d be to cuddle with him for real. 

He gives exceptional hugs, you feel. 

“Which class?” he investigates.  

“(Major of choice),” you reply, and try looking everywhere but his face. 

“Let me escort you, this way you don’t run into anyone else,” he suggests, and again has this hopeful look about him as he stares at you. 

The close proximity hasn’t gone missed between you two, and you feel like he notices too. He draws the features of your face into in his mind, as you do his and the tension is getting suffocating. You urge yourself to just say something, or better yet just get him to let go. Politely separating yourself from his arms, and you catch a draft after doing so, you smile your usual polite smile and say yes. 

Just as you both begin walking in the direction of your class, you remember the time or the lack thereof you have, and start speeding up with him right behind you. Coming up on the door, you barely turn around to thank him and enter the silence of the classroom. You quickly find your way to your desk, and thankfully, though you’re only a minutes late, your professor into present yet, so you can breathe peacefully. Yet, you’re heart picks up pace again when you see Yoongi peeking through the classroom door looking for you, and when your eyes meet, he gives you a thumbs up and waves bye. 

"Aw, you guys are so cute,” your friend squeals. “So when’s baby daddy gonna put a ring on it?”

“You’re something else,” you laugh, but aren’t mad at the thought.

“You know I’m just teasing, girl,” she reassures and smiles, “but on the real though, I’m happy for you.”

“Nothing’s happened yet.”

“Can we get something happening then? Maybe a study date? Movies? Breakfast? Lunch? Dinner? Oh, I know. A date a the skating rink,” she suggests, and brushes her shoulders off, proud of herself. “It’s perfect. Nothing too secluded, you get a chance to talk, and you can bond at the same time.”

“I don’t even know if he likes me like that yet,” you counter, but wonder what you’re waiting for.

“No one holds somebody for that long, or even better, escorts them to class, if they aren’t interested,” she reinforces.

“I don’t know,” you reply, and play with your food. Today, you and f/n decided to eat lunch in the cafeteria, just to have a change of scenery. That, and once f/n revealed to you that a source of hers mentioned that Yoongi eats here every once and while, you thought to yourself, ‘why not?’ Unfortunately though, you haven’t seen Yoongi yet or since this morning, so you start to lose hope.

"You don’t know what? If you don’t mind me asking,” Yoongi adds himself in your conversation, and you’re startled enough to jump when you weren’t expecting him. He sits himself between you two and starts digging into his own. From his sweaty appearance and the sweat towel around his neck, you assume he just finished playing basketball. His muscles outline slightly from the sweat on his white t-shirt, he has on basketball shorts, and this time a snap back as well. He’s very skinny, but still lean and in shape. You just look towards f/n and she smiles cutely.

“Yoongi, how are you? I’m y/n’s friend, f/n. It’s nice to finally meet you,” she introduces herself.

“To finally meet me? Has y/n mentioned me to you a few times?” he quizzes and you catch the peeking he does through his lashes towards you.

“Only just several times,” she confirms, and you almost throw something at her. You can tell she’s feeling cheeky, and you’ll have to watch her.

“Not that often, and really just about your crazy basketball skills,” you reassure, and suddenly your lunch looks a lot more interesting.

“How are your skills off the court? Care to show my friend? I think she’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?”

If you weren’t such a nice person, you had been snatched her by her edges. You just laugh it off, “You’re doing too much, stop talking. I promise we’re not that weird,” you say to Yoongi. He chuckles at whole spectacle, and you almost want trap his laugh and save it for rainy days.

“Nah, just thirsty,” she retorts. At this he tilts his head and you can see he confusion in his face. You hope with everything you are that he doesn’t understand. His first language isn’t English, so if you’re lucky, that term could’ve just flown over his head.

You almost choke on your food, and decide to toss her your half empty water bottle, “I’ll give you the ocean, if you just shut up.”

“Well, then you’re in luck. I have to leave to go do a thing.”

“What thing? You don’t have a thing,” you say, and produce the saddest puppy dog eyes you can, so as to stop her from leaving.

“Silly y/n, if I want to have a thing, then I’ll have a thing,” she playfully scolds you. “My life doesn’t revolve around you, honey. Now, when we can have a double date, then we’ll talk,” she pushes in the last part quickly and then jogs out of your reach. Watching her hair sway as she leaves, you want to drag her back to the table, because you’re not sure how to act around Yoongi.

“Why don’t we have a thing?” he inquires and looks at you directly, and you witness a smirk form on his lips.

“We? Uh,” you respond, but barely. “Like, what do you mean?” You gulp discreetly.

“Anything we want, really. I don’t mind, as long as I can spend that thing with you,” he smiles and stares at you endearingly. At that, you could almost fall into his lap without clear reasoning, aside from the fact that you like him that much. You wonder how he does it.

“How about we go to the skating rink downtown? Have a thing?” you suggest. Your mouth stretches into its own smile.

“I don’t skate, but for you, why not?” he agrees and wipes his hands on his shorts. “Well, I have to go do an actual thing that involves studying, but give me your phone and we can make plans.”

“I look forward to it,” you reply and hand him your phone with the contact info form open.

“Feelings mutual,” he says and gets up for the table. Throwing his gym bag over bag over his shoulder, he walks backwards and grins his charming smile at you again, “See you around.” You wave to him this time.

After spending 2 hours with f/n trying to pick out a cute, but casual outfit for your date, you’re giddy during the whole drive from your home. You fortunately find a parking space not too far from the building, and walking around the block to get to the front entrance, you’re surprised when you see Yoongi already standing outside the venue. His hands are fiddling with his phone and he doesn’t see you walking up to him. However, you see him nice and clearly and your stomach does flips. He isn’t in anything that you haven’t seen him wear before, or that’s different from his laid back style, yet every time you see him, you can’t help but to feel excited and butterflies churn. “Did I come late?” you inquire, seemingly startle him.

He chuckles, and shakes his head, as his signature smirk shows through. “Nope, my friends just dropped me off early because they had something else to do,” he replies. “Ready to have fun?”

“I thought you didn’t consider this as fun,” you remind him, and lead the way inside. He treads beside you.

“It isn’t, but someone may as well have fun laughing at me, as I fall on my butt.”

“It won’t be that bad,” you try to encourage him.

“Just wait.”

After paying for the shoes you guys are going to rent for the occasion, you notice that after he laces them on and then tries to stand, but continues to fall back into his seat, that he’ll have some issues.  You, yourself though, have no problems standing and you grab both of his forearms to help him up as well. He’s wobbly on both feet and can’t stop looking at the ground to make sure he doesn’t fall. “You’ll do fine. However, I think we should take it slow.” You look in to his eyes, and he stares back and then nods. “First let’s just walk over to the ice, and just try standing on it.”

From then on, it was a hit or miss of a lesson. When he walked out on to the ice, he couldn’t stop using the wall as a supporting crutch in order to keep standing. He’d sometimes hold onto your hands, and you’d help him glide over the ice at a snail pace. Once you let go, if he had no momentum, he’d just be at a stand still. No need to try and move forward by himself, because he’d always lose his balance, and it’d be the end after that. Multiple times you’ve watched him fall and get back up. Fall, then get back up. However, as time continued to pass, your muscles in your feet, legs, and including abdomen from laughing so much, began to hurt and you knew Yoongi was already fed up with everything, if not including life. “Ready to leave?” you ask, while checking the time on your phone.

“We’re leaving already?” he responds with a tremble in his throat, as he tries to get back up from falling on the hard surface. Anytime he’d think he’d have a foot secure underneath himself, and then try to stand on the other, it’d slide back and he’d be on all fours.

“Well, it’s been three hours since we’ve arrived,” you reply, and chuckle. “Come on, Bambi,” you coo and grab a hold of his hands. He starts to stand on one foot and then the other, and now he’s at least still and not one the ground.

“See? Told you you’d get a knack out of this,” he rolls his eyes, but his smile never leaves his face. “I didn’t realize so much time had passed.”

“Well, time flies when you ‘re having fun,” you smile and swing his hands in yours. “Shall we go?” Leading him back to the rest are, you’re careful to not pull him too fast and then help him to a nearby seat. You saunter to the counter to pick up your guys’ shoes, and when you get back to Yoongi, he already has his skates off and looking at his feet concerned. “Break something?”

“Yes,” he sighs, “my tail bone and pride,” he jokes.

You hand him his shoes and start to take off your own skates. “Maybe next time we should do something else? I don’t want you to force yourself to come with me here and not really enjoy yourself,” you suggest.

“I’d come here a million times if you asked me,” he says, and laughs at his own corniness, while trying to smooth out your insecurities about bring him.  

You smile a long with him, but are glad that your face is hidden. With the pigment of your skin, no one can really see if you blush, but you’re sure your face would still speak a thousand words if he were to see it then. “While I appreciate the gesture,” you say and stand on your feet in your own shoes, “I’m not trying to destroy your bruised tail bone. How about you choose the next destination?”

“Fine, I like that idea,” he agrees, and looks back down at his feet. “That reminds me. Can you give me a ride back home? My friends are still probably out, and it’d take them too long to pick me up.” That catches you off guard, but you not sure if you mind too much, because then you’d get to spend more time with him. Needless to say, you’re hoping that he feels the same way.  

Surprisingly enough, going to the ice skating rink with Yoongi was more fun than you anticipated.First, he was the perfect gentleman, you guys could always find something to talk about and you were both interested in keeping the conversation going. It wasn’t forced, or too awkward. Anything you could talk about on a first date, you did. There cute moments of whispering nothings into each other ears and just laughing at the gall you both had. There were giggles. There were times when he’d fall into your arms, so <i>he</i> wouldn’t fall, and you trying not stare so blatantly into his eyes. It was perfect, to say the least, yet still odd to think about. 

Secondly, you both are so different, you weren’t entirely sure how everything would fair. If not for the cultural differences, then for the more obvious, outward reasons. He had the pick of anyone he’d probably want, and here you two were. You still question yourself, ‘why?’ You know you shouldn’t have thoughts like those, but it takes time to reverse that sort of mentality. Every once and while, it can come with dating outside of your race. Sometimes you consciously—or even subconsciously—slip into that frame of mind, when you feel unworthy or not “his type.” Then there are moments when you’re proud to say that you catch yourself, and not let such defeating thoughts bring you down. You’ve found that if you were to ask yourself, if f/n were to ask you if she were worthy enough, and you wouldn’t say those self-defeating thoughts to them, then why do it to yourself? It’s never easy, and knowing your worth takes time, but it can be achieved. 

The drive back to his place is silent, and in your opinion, more awkward between you both than before. As you’re driving past green lights and other cars, you notice he’s less talkative. His body is with you, but you wonder if his mind is somewhere else. Did he not have fun? Did he regret the date? Should you have even gotten your hopes up? What’s wrong? Around 15 minutes later, you pull your around the corner of the apartment building he stays in, because parking in limited. Finally finding a parking spot, you reverse park into the space and turn off the engine, but the radio could still be heard playing in the background. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. He turns to you in the passenger seat and looks at you undauntingly. 

You’re not sure if you want to look back at him because his stare could sometimes be intimidating. Though you know not on purpose, but because…well…that’s just how his face and eyes work. Gathering up the courage, you take a deep inhale and look back him with your own searching eyes. Upon his direct stare, you almost freeze, but talk nonetheless. “For what?”

“Being like this,” he uses his hands to gesture at himself, “Awkward. Even more than I was before. Non-talkative.”

“Um, it’s okay. I mean if you didn’t enjoy yourself, I won’t force you to be all happy go lucky,” you reply, and then look back ahead of yourself. There isn’t much to see, but you’d rather look at the cars parked ahead of you and the street. At least then if your eyes get the slightest bit of glassy, he won’t be able to tell and he won’t have to feel sorry for you. 

“That’s not what I meant,” he says immediately after you say your piece. “This is probably one of the best nights I’ve had in a while, but I’m not apologizing because of tonight. I’m saying I’m sorry because I know I’ve just made things unnecessarily weird between us. Back at the rink, I was a lot more open and had more to say, but that’s because my mind didn’t have to work overtime to find something to talk about. Everything flowed a lot nicer when we were just talking about anything and everything at the top of our minds, and when we both had to focus on me not seeming like a total idiot in front of you. Not to say that falling on my butt should be a conversation starter,” and you snort, “but it was just easier. Now that our attention is fully on one another, I can’t seem to think of anything to say that’s cool or funny, and I’m overthinking everything I think I should say.” He takes a deep breath and asks in a low voice, if that even makes since. “I’m nervous. I’m sorry.”

In a way it made since, and yet didn’t at the same time, but you’re at least happy to hear that he truly did enjoy himself. “It’s fine.” You say, and look back him. His eyes appeared to had gotten softer, and the tension you didn’t even notice, also left his shoulders. 

He turns back around slowly, “I guess I should get going then.” Was that it? “I think I should leave now before I make myself seem even more uncool than you probably already think I am,” he chuckles. No one makes any sudden movements, but at the last second, you do. 

Opening the driver’s side door, you step out into the brisk air. Your body is protesting the cold, but your insides are burning. You don’t do something like this often, but you don’t want to let the night end like this. You’re aware of the attraction between you two. You’ve seen it, obviously have experienced, and you want to put it to the test. Right now. Walking around your car you meet Yoongi, who’s already standing outside of the vehicle because you left, on the passenger side of your car. “Anyway, thank you for—“ you halt his words with your delicate kiss. Nothing forceful, but purposeful and straightforward. Your hands are on his biceps, and they glide up his arms and around his neck and head, where one of your hands relish in the softness of his hair. His hands find themselves on your waist, and he leans into the kiss too. Your lips mingle with one another. They feel. They caress. They’re tender to its recipient, and careful to not scare either away. As several seconds pass by, you finally pull away and he follows your warmth an inch, wanting more but he holds himself back. You smile at his eagerness, and see that his eyes are still closed, and your foreheads are touching. “Thank you. You’re really a good kisser,” he admits, and then smiles to himself. “Tell me I didn’t just say that out loud.” 

Your own smile spreads uncontrollably onto your face, and you separate yourself from his grasp. “Have a good rest of your night,” you say and start walking back to the driver’s seat of your car.

“Really? How could you say that, knowing that you’re the best part of it?” he asks, and his famous smirk shows back on his face. “See you around?” 

“You think I’d stay away now?” you ask cheekily, and get into your car. He waves bye as you drive away, and you can’t wait for tomorrow to come.

“Aren’t you guys the cutest ever?” f/n exclaims and dances in her seat. “I’m so happy for you!” You’re both at you guys’ favorite lunch spot, while working your own separate school assignments. School isn’t letting up, and between that and work, you wonder if there’ll be any free time soon. “So, when’s the next date?”

You laugh at her blatancy, “It’s only the next day.”

“And? Didn’t you two already talk about it this morning, when he texted you ‘good morning’ this morning?” she raises her eyebrows teasingly at you, trying to hint at something. But you stopped her in her tracks.

“It wasn’t like that,” you insist, “we haven’t gotten that far and it’d be too soon.”

“Not too soon for a smooch, which by the way, I’m impressed,” she laughs.

“You seem more happy than me.”

“Hardly! Girl, you were practically glowing this morning,” she giggles.

“I wasn’t,” you retort.

“Glowing like the sun so much, I almost regret not bringing my shades today.” You just shake your head at her, but the smile still hasn’t left your face, and you get back to work.

At the moment, it seems like you have too many assignments to start, and not enough time to finish what you’ve been working on for a few weeks, but you get to work anyway, before your next class. At this rate, you wonder if you’ll ever meet Yoongi again anytime soon. Like that, days turned into weeks, and they transitioned into a little over a month. Your encounters never lasted for anything over a few minutes every blue moon, but your texting conversation continued to go strong. Little words here or there were sent throughout your days, and you figured you should at least be happy with that. Neither of you really had time, and even f/n was having a hard time keeping up her life and school.

Sitting in the library, you’re taking notes diligently until you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. Your timer’s just gone off after two hours, signaling for you stop your research and to move on to another assignment for the night. It’s almost 10 pm right now, and the day’s activities has already been settled into your body. Your hands are feeling cramped, your back hurts from sitting hunched for too long, your feet are feeling sore from getting up and going every place known to man, and your eyes a beginning to feel heavy with sleep. You bring your coffee cup up to your mouth and drink down the lukewarm caffeine. You sigh and lean back into your chair. You think yourself that you only have two things to do before the night ends and then maybe you get to sleep at around 1 AM tonight. You’re groaning.

Sitting forward again, and leaning on your elbows on the table, you start to type again but onto a whole other chart of numbers and statistics that are fusing together. Slowing getting to the flow groove of just working, your phone vibrates in your pocket again. Absentmindedly, you bring it up to line of sight, and you take a quick glance at the front and notice it’s a text from Yoongi. Here goes the cheesy smile again. “What are you doing?” he inquires.

Your frown and look back at your laptop screen. “Studying.

Is it for anything important?

You almost laugh, “I think so. Ive heard rumors of students who didnt complete their assignments and fail the semester miserably.

Sounds important, then.” You nod your head ‘yes’ slightly and begin to look back down at your homework, until you hear a text being sent to you. “Want to ditch?

As tempting as that is, I cant. I have too much to do and at stake,” you reply, disappointedly.

Come on~” he starts. “What can a 20-minute break do to you?

Against your better judgement, knowing it’d be longer than twenty minutes that you’d spend with him, you still text him back agreeing, and ask him where to meet. You’re surprised when he tells you to come to the basketball court. Nonetheless, and not caring too much about his request because you want to leave the library, you pack up your stuff.

5 minutes into the stroll and coming closer to the court, you’re surprised when you see him and few other guys playing. You don’t make any sudden movements for him to catch your attention, and just watch silently off by the sidelines. Some of these guys he’s playing with you haven’t seen before, and you’re not sure if they go to your university or not. Another five minutes pass before Yoongi calls for a time out, and jogs over to you. “Enjoying the game?” he asks panting. His hand are placed on his hips and he walks over to his bag to grab the towel that sitting haphazardly on top of it. He wipes off the waterfall sweat that falling into his eyes, and then stands closer to you. “Want to meet my friends?”

“Why not?” you reply, and he starts yelling and waving everyone closer to you both. Understandably, you’re a little nervous. Will you like them? Will they like you?

“They’re weird, but you’ll like them,” he smiles.

“Is this the famous y/n? Do you know he talks about you nonstop?”  the tallest of the guys asks. His hair is a deep brown and he’s more muscly, but about as lean as Yoongi, and with broader shoulders.  

“Hopefully you only hear good things,” you chuckle.

“I don’t talk about her nonstop,” Yoongi retorts.

“Nope, you just have this greasy smile on your face whenever you start texting her,” another man speaks up and, and runs his hand through his light pink hair. Odd color, but whatever floats his boat. “Hi, my name is Jimin.” He smiles and brings forth his hand to shake yours.

You’re polite and introduce yourself back., while shaking his hand “I’m y/n.”

“Don’t forget about me.” Another voice shouts, but is deeper than the rest so far. He jogs up to you and takes your hand in his too. “I’m Kim Taehyung.” You tell him it’s nice to meet him and introduce yourself as well.

Then another male jogs to the group. “I’m Namjoon,” he pants and nods his head to you, with a dimpled smile showing through.

Then another male bumps into him whom is slightly taller. “I’m Jungkook.”

“And I’m Hoseok,” someone else voices, and the crowd has to part slightly for him to come through. “My sister-in-law, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

You giggle, and probably look confused. You glance at Yoongi, but he doesn’t notice and he throws Hoseok a ‘Really?’ sort of look. “I will remember this day.” He runs his hands through his hair, and puts his hands on his hips. “Want to play?” he directs his words at you.

“No.” You shake your head. “I don’t think it’d the best idea.” You’re not horrible at basketball, but you don’t really play either. If anything you just enjoy the game and actually know how the game works for the most part.

“Nonsense, I’m sure you will be great. Do you want to be on my team?” Taehyung suggests. His English isn’t broken, but it sounds a little garbled. His accent is semi thick, but you can understand him.

“No thank you,” you shake your head again. He looks a little disappointed, but he just nods his head understandably. To you, you’re not in the best position to be playing when you’re not that great at it and your feet ache. That, and you’re dead tired.

“Can we play?” you hear another voice, but that’s feminine. Your line of sight moves around some of the guys heads and you notice that it’s the gray-haired, hazel-eyed beauty, as well as a group of her friends—you’re assuming at least. Everyone turns around to see who the voice belonged to and one of the guys, you think Jungkook, goes to give the girl a side hug.

“You’re here,” he exclaims.

“You thought I wouldn’t come? And miss this game?” she purrs. “You must be out of your mind.” Well this is an unexpected turn of events, and you want to fight to not roll your eyes. You’re not sure where the feelings are coming from, but you’re jealous. She’s pretty, can play basketball—apparently—and probably knows everyone better than you do. As you watch all of Yoongi’s friends greet the ladies that have just arrived, you wonder if you missed your chance at having a decent friendship with them too. It’s a strange thought, but you almost feel out of place.  

“I didn’t know you had invited them,” Yoongi says with a smile. Is he excited to have them here too? Did he forget you that quick? This pricks you in the heart a little bit.

“Yes. I invited them because I thought that since y/n was coming, why not invite more people? This way there could be a girl and boy team,” he replies and shrugs. Jungkook looks towards you. “Y/N, I know that you don’t feel up to it. So, if you don’t want to play, you can just sit this one out and watch on the bench.” Nope. You won’t.

“You know what? I actually have to get back to the library to study, so I’m going to go. Thank you for the offer though,” you smile to everyone, and they look confused by why you’re suddenly leaving. Even the girls that have come look confused. “Have fun.” You look at Yoongi, and he stares back at you with a slight frown. You start walking back to where you’re thinking you should’ve stayed in the first place.

You tell yourself that you don’t need to put yourself in that vulnerable state by staying there, but you also wonder why you didn’t try harder. Fight for him harder. Did she even like him like how you assumed? Why disqualify yourself so early in the game? You laugh at yourself a little. You’re not sure why you’re like this.

After coming back to the library and then studying for an additional hour, you start to pack up your things and decide to finish your work at home. You saunter to your car and get into the drivers side of the vehicle. You sit for a second. You’re tired and you don’t want to move, but you don’t want to stay in the school parking lot either. So you start your car and give it a few minutes to heat up. At the last second before you put the car in drive, someone knocks on the passenger side of car. You jump, and look at who knocked. It’s Yoongi.

He points at the passenger seat of your car, and you oblige. You’re not sure why. He climbs in and looks at you pointedly. “Why’d you leave?” You know he didn’t mean it in a demanding or blaming way, but you already feel guilty for leaving so fast anyway. Of course, you’re sad for going because you didn’t even give yourself a chance, but you didn’t want to stay either.  

“I just wanted to leave, okay? I have to study, and again, I can’t play basketball. So, me being there wouldn’t do anyone good.” You look away and lean back in your seat. You don’t feel like having this conversation right now, and you feel like it shows on your face and in your posture.

He sighs, and looks ahead of himself, taking his eyes off you. “You’re right, you can leave when you want to. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s been a long night. But I really have to go, so,” you say, and leave your sentence hanging in midair.

“It’s not alright,” he insists, and looks back at you. “I didn’t know Jungkook was going to invite those girls.”

You snort. You’re happy that he understands why you left, as well as are a little embarrassed, but you brush it off. “Yoongi, it’s fine. You can play with whomever you want to. It doesn’t make a difference.”

“Unless it’s with a person of the other gender.” You look at him surprised, and his signature smirk shows up.

“I’m not jealous,” you start out, “but I’m glad you understand.” You both laugh and it reminds you of the laughs you both had at the rink.

“So, Hoseok was right.”

“About what?”

“He told me that you had looked a little disappointed when the girls came,” he says and looks at you sadly. He leans back in his seat as well and caresses every detail of your face with his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “You didn’t do anything.”

“That’s the point. I didn’t do anything. I should’ve gone after you, even after the smidgen of a hint that you didn’t like what was happening. How am I going to be your boyfriend if I can’t even figure these little things out?” Your eyes widen significantly and you mouth to him ‘boyfriend?’ He nods haughtily.  

“I just never expected you to say it out loud,” you respond and giggle.  

“Well, I figured I shouldn’t beat around the bush and just say it up front. I like you, a lot, and you don’t have to wonder about it either.”

“So, what does this mean?” you ask, while simultaneously trying to fight the smile off your face.  

“It means, I take you another date fast before I miss my chance with you,” he smiles endearingly.

“What’d you have in mind?”

“Everything, but going skating again.” He chuckles, and you almost get lost in his eyes. It happens when you’re around him.

As you’re both having a moment, your back door behind Yoongi’s opens. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need a ride home,” Taehyung pants, and sits down cozily in the back.

“So do I,” another voice pipes up, and you notice that Jungkook is standing beside Taehyung. Taehyung scoots over for Jungkook to get in too, and then Jimin tells Jungkook to scooch over as well.

Jimin climbs into the vehicle, and then looks up at you all smiley and expectant. “I hope you don’t mind.”  

You glance towards Yoongi, and he calmly looks like he wants to murder somebody. “Why not? We weren’t having a moment,” he says tightly.

“Well then, we’ll just make ourselves comfortable,” Jimin laughs.

“Y/N, can you play any music?” Jungkook asks.

“Just let me pick, they always choose what we listen to,” Taehyung complains. That’s how your night with Yoongi starts and ends. With three of his so-called toddlers—his words—bickering and giving you a headache, but also a smile you welcomed.  

The end. 


I could feel the burning sensation of the fire, even from several feet away. We watched in horror, anticipating for the rest to come running out of the burning building. My arms were crossed over my chest, my hands gripping tightly with nails piercing into my skin. Gasps escaped our mouths when we saw a silhouette emerge, it was Geoff. Whilst everyone else let out sighs of relief, I panicked. Where was Shawn?

“Where is he?” I asked running over to Geoff who was limping, dragging his leg with him as he made his way over. “Where’s Shawn?” I shouted. Geoff looked at me with pain in his eyes, which were vivid as they burst through his soot covered face. I shook my head as my nails dug deeper. Before anyone could tell me otherwise, I ran towards the fire. “What the fuck are you doing?” I heard Brian shout from behind. “It’s too dangerous,” Tom called after me. As I ran towards the fire, the heat became more powerful, making my skin itch to the point where I wanted to tear it off. The majority of the building still remained in it’s original frame as the fire had started from out the back. I threw my arms over my face, in an attempt to protect my face from the flames, as I made my way in. The building may have been standing still, but everything had turned black inside. I tried to remember where we had been as the fire started, trying to remember the directions.

Although the building was silent, compared to earlier that evening when it was filled with voices of cheer; the fire roared with anger which added to the new murky surroundings. We had been eating at a table near a window, tucked under a balcony. It was impossible to tell where the window would have been, as the main dining area was submerged in smoke. I felt my lungs draw tighter, causing me to cough rather than take deep breaths. “Shawn?” I shouted, trying to make my voice be heard over the flames. The building was creaking, meaning it wasn’t going to hold much longer. As I stepped through the smoke things like; over turned tables, broken chairs and wasted food became visible. A perfect night had turned for worst in a matter of minutes.

“Shawn, are you there?” I shouted again, my voice scratching my dry throat. I heard a noise, not words exactly. My head snapped in the direction and I carefully stepped around the destruction. “Shawn,” I said as I froze, looking up at where the balcony had been before. It had collapsed and broken in half, with one half impaled into the ground. There was a huge bundle of flames on the other side, where the window had been originally so I stepped carefully towards the split balcony. “Oh my god,” I sighed, as I absorbed the sight in front of me. To the side of the hanging balcony, laid Shawn. Thick, heavy planks from the balcony had landed across his stomach and another across his leg; with that foot twisted in the opposite direction. I let out a groan of disgust and pain as I landed on my knees. I wanted to cry, but the tears would not fall. Shawn was covered in debris and soot, not looking anything like he had done earlier. I scooted closer, avoiding his twisted foot and sitting next to the planks which covered him. Blood was trailing out from the corner of his mouth, his lips pale; almost white. “Shawn,” I said softly. His eyes fluttered open and eventually focused on me. “(Y/N)” he said, his voice thick with pain.

“It’s going to be ok,” I said, trying to attempt a smile as the first tear fell down my cheek. He simply stared at me, his face twitching with pain. “Take my hand,” he said, his voice dry and quiet. A powerful creak came from behind us, causing my head to turn sharply in that direction. I finally felt scared, having ignored the possibilities as I ran into the burning building. “Take my hand,” he repeated, this time his voice was strong. I turned back to look at his hand, and place my shaking hand on top, gripping onto his fingers. Tears fled as I watched his fingers merge between mine. He winced in pain, causing my eyes to shoot back up at his face. “I’m going to die here,” he said, looking up. I shook my head, my face scrunching up as I didn’t want to believe what he was saying. “No, no you’re not. Help is on it’s way, they’re going to get you out of here” I said quickly. “(Y/N) listen to me,” he demanded, his best attempt at shouting. “This thing, has crushed everything,” he explained. I examined his shirt which started off as white and was now stained with his crimson blood. “Does it hurt?” I asked, instantly realising how stupid it was to ask. He took a deep breath, “To be honest, I can’t feel anything on my left side.” I bit down on my bottom lip as I glanced back at his foot, and worked my way back up to his face. His eyes were shining as tears formed at the corners. “I don’t want you to die,” I admitted, letting out a moan as I felt a sharp pain in my chest. His bottom lip trembled as he blinked, allowing the tears to fall. “Me neither,” he said. I took his hand in mine and pressed my lips hard against it, not wanting to let him go.

I dropped his hand and looked over my shoulder as the wall towards the back of the room collapsed, sending shivers throughout the building. “You need to get out of here, save yourself” Shawn said, his voice weaker. I looked back at him as he began to blink slowly. I took his hand again and held it to my lips, “No Shawn, I’m not leaving you and you’re not leaving me.” He closed his eyes as I smothered his hand in kisses. “We have our whole lives together,” I said. “I’ll still be there, I promise” Shawn said, his eyes meeting mine. I held his hand to my forehead as I closed my eyes, wanting this to be just a nightmare. “I bought that house,” Shawn said, his speech beginning to slur. I glanced up at him and noticed that the amount of blood falling from his mouth had increased. “I bought the house in Vancouver,” he muttered before inhaling deeply. “What?” I gasped. “The keys are in my bedside table, I want you to live there” he said, his voice shaking. I stared blankly at him. “Promise me,” he said. I took a deep breath, not wanting to accept that this was it. “Ok,” I said, my face crumpling up. “I promise.”

A small smile appeared amongst his dirty face, “I love you.” My tears felt hot as they streamed down my face, “I love you.” Shawn closed his eyes, a smile still on his face. “I loved you from the moment I saw you dancing to that awful song.” A faint laugh escaped my mouth as I wiped my cheeks, “Mambo No.5 is a great song.” I watched as Shawn opened his eyes again and fixated past me, his head nodding ever so slightly. Before I could react, I felt a pair of arms wrap around my body as I was being lifted from the ground. “What? No, no” I shouted as I my shoes dragged against the floor and Shawn started to appear further away. “No, you can’t just leave him. Please, take me back. Please” I cried as I could no longer see Shawn. “Shawn, come back!” I shouted from the top of my lungs, sticking out my hand as if I expected him to grab it. As we made it out of the building someone else came along and picked up my feet. Groans of heartbreak left my body, echoing into the dark night.

“No,” I screeched as I was placed on the ground, in time to watch the building collapse in on itself. Everyone around me let out curses under their breaths, some even fell to their knees with their hands covering their faces. He was gone. I slammed my fist into the ground several times, wanting nothing more than for him to appear in front of me - alive. I stopped when I realised that something was in my hand. Lying in my palm was Shawn’s ring, the one he had always worn on his middle finger. I let out a sigh, the tears never ending. I slowly slipped it over my ring finger, before looking back at the fire which had grown since the building had fallen to the ground. I stared blankly as finally, I felt nothing.

One and Only? (Happy x Reader)

I AM BACK AND WITH A VENGENCE. I’ve combined 2 requests for this one. @la-reina-asesina (you beautiful soul, you) gave me the song inspiration and an Anon (the loveliest of the loveliest) gave me the general idea for a plot. Love you and thank you both for these amazing requests.

Word Count: 3,992

WARNINGS: Adult language and adult content (it definitely gets smutty towards the end)

Playlist: Temporary Bliss - The Cab

Every Friday night was the same. The same music, the same booze, the same girls, the same party. It never changed. These boys were a predictable bunch. That was how I knew exactly which two Sons were now trapping me between their sides. I didn’t need to glance sideways. It was always the same two men. It was like they were addicted to me. They never left me alone. They always gravitated back towards me. Even with all these Crows around. I never understood it. I never gave them a reason to follow after me. I never got caught up with either of them, or any Son for that matter. I was a friend of a friend. A woman who liked to party, drink and laugh. That was about it.

“Evening boys.” I greeted them.

Keep reading

TEASER: #UnderCoverAntifa Sting! | Louder With Crowder

What happens when two guys infiltrate Antifa, live amongst them for weeks, and take part in their deeply rooted tactics of disruption and violence? Find out tomorrow night, Sept 28th, LIVE on LouderWithCrowder with Steven Crowder, Not Gay Jared and special guest, Ben Shapiro. See you there. 8pm ET.

LMAO my words exactly, Ben!!! xD This ought a be good.

anonymous asked:

I just find it super irritating that a relationship that was badly written to begin with and not Sasuke's fault is constantly used against him like that. Konoha can do what they want to him and his family, Sakura can do what she wants with him, and he's always the bad guy because he doesn't just suck it up and play along and smile happily after everything. Sometimes I even resent Naruto for not living up to his promise and letting Sasuke suffer for Konoha even more.

You are putting my thoughts exactly into words. It is indeed unfair, but Sasuke simply had to serve as the scapegoat so that Konoha could be the good guys, which is just unfair and unbalanced in regards to his relationship to the other characters. It puts the blame on him and only him and presents him in an unreasonable and evil light, in a light where he is the misguided criminal, whilst Konoha can wash their hands in innocence.

anonymous asked:

How 'bout that HTTYD!AU? Feral!Tom is precious and I'd love to see Marco teaching him how to speak. X3 Also, sorry to here about your dad, I give you my sincerest hopes he'll be fine. Stay strong.- Bunny Anon

Thank you! The good news is, he can get an operation and be fine after. The bad news is, my grandpa, the man who was WAY more of a father to me than my real dad just died. We’re all taking it really hard. But I’ll try and stay strong. I hope you like the story! Getting back into writing really is seeming to cheer me up! Enjoy!

Read the last one here!

“Okay, lean left!” Marco called. Tom obeyed and leaned left and he dodged a rock. The two boys landed on the grassy plains by the beach and Tom rested his wings. “Tom! That was so good! You’re flying like you never even hurt you wing!” Marco cheered.

“Need you.” Tom tried to put his thoughts into words.

“I know, you can’t fly unless I’m hanging on and helping move your wing.” Marco restated. Tom frowned and pulled his knees up. Marco made a face and sat down next to him. He put his arm around Tom’s shoulder. The dragon tensed up. “Did I hurt your wing?” Marco asked. Tom blushed and shook his head. Marco took out his notebook and tried to draw up some simpler designs to help Tom fly.

As Marco did this, Tom crouched down in the long grass and pounced on birds. Marco looked up and felt a smile form on his face. Tom chased the little animals through the grass and watched the birds fly away. But he soon got tired from his long day of learning how to fly all over again. And he walked over to Marco and curled up, placing his head on Marco’s lap.

Marco felt his face heat up and heard Tom beginning to purr softly. He reached down tentatively and scratched the dragon-boy behind the pointed and scaley ear. Tom purred louder and Marco petted him lovingly.

Soon a tiny dragon came out of the bushes, hearing Tom’s peaceful noises, they assumed it was a safe place. As soon as they approached Marco, Tom’s ears flattened against his head and he opened his eyes, tensing up. Tom moved up and hissed at the little dragons. Getting them to back up.

“Hey, Tom, it’s okay.” Marco assured, wishing he would lay back down.

“Protect human.” Tom mumbled. Marco fell back a bit at hearing this, and took Tom;s hand gently. This caused the dragon boy to snap out of his hypnotic state. He looked over at Marco, who patted the grass next to him.

“Come on, they won’t hurt us. Just sit.” Marco urged. Tom looked over at the little dragons, and then went to sit with Marco. He leaned his head against Marco’s shoulder and closed his eyes, feeling Marco hold his hand tightly a he drifted off.


“So is there such this as like… a half-dragon, half-human hybrid?” Marco asked. The entire table of dragon hunting students looked up at him like he was nuts.

“A what?” Heckapoo asked.

“Like… a half-dragon?” Marco asked. A few other kids laughed.

“That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.” Janna laughed, spinning her knife.

“I’m serious.” Marco insisted. “Like… there are so many dragons we haven’t seen and… maybe there could be one that’s more human than animal… maybe one we haven’t seen yet like a… like a Night Fury?” He asked. The table went silent.

“What kind of research are you doing, Marco?” Heckapoo asked, leaning forward. Marco looked down at his plate.

“Just um… curiosity.” He coughed. “Like it was more HUMAN. It had wings and scales, but say it looked human, and could communicate and talk.” Marco continued.

“So let me get this straight, this hypothetical dragon can talk? Like you and me?” Star asked. Marco was about to say yes, but then he stopped and thought for a moment. Tom really couldn’t talk like he and Star.


“Okay, so you’re not too strong in speech.” Marco broke the news. “And I feel like that’s something we gotta work on.” He told the dragon. Tom was playing with a piece of string on the ground and he looked up at Marco, tilting his head and cooing.

“Talk good!” Tom smiled.

“No, I’m sorry, Tom.” Marco told him. Tom’s ears dropped and he got very sad looking. “But that’s nothing to feel bad about! You just gotta work on it a little!” He promised. “I’ll help you.” He offered. Tom perked up and jumped over to sit with Marco. “I think the best way to learn is for you to talk more. I think you stay quiet because you’re not used to it.” Marco explained. “So how about you just talk, and if you get something wrong, I’ll correct you?” He tried.

“T-talk?” Tom tried. He then shook his head and kept motioning to his mouth. “No… no word.” Was all he said. Marco looked confused. “Hard… hard say.”

“It’s hard to say?” Marco asked. Tom nodded. “Okay, so articulating is the problem.” Marco realized. He then thought for a moment. “I have an idea! How about you repeat after me.” He tried. Tom nodded and sat up straight. “My name is Tom.” Marco spoke.

Tom pointed to himself. “N-name Tom.” He sputtered. Marco shook his head.

“No, no. Try to repeat my words EXACTLY.” He explained again. Tom nodded. “My name is Tom.” Marco repeated.

“M-my name ee..eyes…is,” Tom fumbled around the way to pronounce “is”. “Tom.” He finished. Marco smiled and reached out to pet The dragon’s hair and scratch behind his ear. Tom purred and smiled big.

“Do good?” Tom asked. Marco nodded.

“You did just perfect.” He promised. Tom smiled and moved closer, nuzzling the human’s arm like a cat. Marco blushed and Tom drowned him in affection, purring and cuddling the human. He then got excited and tackled Marco down, smiling at him. “Tom!” Marco giggled. “What’s gotten into you?” He asked.

“Like Marco!” Tom smiled big. Marco then blushed and looked up at the dragon, who was smiling big.

“W-what did you just s-say?” Marco asked. His face was burning red and Tom motioned to himself, then he motioned to Marco.

“Like Marco!” Tom said again. “M-me… like Marco!” He thought for a while longer and then perked up. “I like Marco!” He then figured it all out and smiled proudly. Marco blushed and looked away.

“I l-like you too, Tom.” Marco coughed. Tom felt himself light up, but then Marco kept talking. “You’re a great friend and a good dragon.” He smiled. Tom made a face and shook his head.

“No!” Tom tried to get how he was feeling out. “LIKE Marco!” He said again, this time putting emphasis on the word ‘like’.

“I know, Tom. I like you too.” Marco spoke. Tom looked up hopeful, praying Marco would get it. But he didn’t. “I didn’t think I’d be such good friends with a dragon… but I think you’re my best friend.” Marco told him, smiling gently. Tom growled and put his head in his hands.

“More! Like marco, MORE.” Tom tried. Marco looked at him confused and Tom bit his lip. “L-laa-laa-va.” Tom tried to form the word in his mouth.

“Lava?” Marco asked. Tom seemed like he was trying to say something, but Marco couldn’t understand. “I have to go, Tom. People will get curious.” Marco spoke, before running off.

And Tom wished and prayed he could articulate the word “love”.

In my very first year of teaching, at my very first Back to School Night, speaking to a group of families I explained that, “I love words.” They laughed. But I was not trying to be funny.

I do. I love words. I always have.

As a child, my favorite hobbies were reading books and writing stories. I never grew out of it.

When I got to college, I majored in journalism because it taught me how to choose my words carefully to say exactly what needed to be said, as clearly and succinctly as possible. I loved it.

I joined the Speech and Debate team where I met other lovers of words and together we practiced building arguments and conveying emotions. I loved it.

Later, I went back to school to study teaching because as an English teacher, I could help, potentially, THOUSANDS of young people to feel more comfortable about wielding words as tools to help communicate all the beautiful and turbulent ideas in their heads.

Communication cannot be overrated in its importance. Poor communication starts wars. Evil communication, in the form of bullying, causes self-loathing, eating disorders, even suicide.

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me,” has never rung true for me. As a child who loved words, I was bullied by my peers and it has had very real and lasting consequences in my life. For decades, I have felt the need to fight anyone who I feel has insulted me, someone I love, or an ideal I hold dear. I think it comes from having to defend myself at an early age.

But my fighting days must now come to an end.

I do not believe we can accomplish anything by senseless adherence to battle. As one of our country’s greatest orators explained, “Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” Dr. King was a better person than I am. I do not know that I have that capacity for love. But I can abandon my hateful ways in favor of that for which I do have capacity: logic and rhetoric.

What hurts me most about our current president is his disregard for the power of words. He uses them poorly and he says awful things in awful ways and he does not even care about the very real damage he does.

This hurts me almost physically.

But nothing can be accomplished if those of us who disagree with him and his apologists and supporters resort to poor use of language. To shoddy means of communication.

We cannot make threats.

We cannot call names.

We cannot give in to logical fallacy.

We cannot fight for the sake of fighting.

We have to care about the words.

We have to say what we mean.

We have to be about something, not against something.

We have to communicate better.

Hate cannot drive out hate. And perhaps words cannot do so either. But if we do not choose our words carefully, then love stands very little chance.

That is not a battle I am willing to lose.

We are not alone in the universe...I found proof on the dark web.

“It’s said that evil prevails when good men do nothing.” Those were once words that comforted me.

I don’t know how much time I have left, all I know is that in the face of uncertainty, an even greater fear exists in knowing that I alone shoulder the weight of knowing the truth….

I’d like to tell you that these words come from a place of analytical stillness, instead of the harsh reality that scares me beyond words. now, The fear that plagues me is very real, justified by earth-shaking implications that accompany Its looming presence.

Keep reading

His reputation is certainly tarnished. But at the same time what created the incident is what occurred when Lewis slowed down so quickly in a very unlikely place. You have got to take that into account. That was a shock to Sebastian, and that is why he came alongside Lewis to ask “what the hell are you doing?” What Vettel then did was to unquestionably collide with Hamilton. There is no room for that, no excuse for that and it is wrong. It is inappropriate behaviour. It would be very simple to put the complete blame on one man, but what initiated the bad behaviour was what happened before. It was totally unexpected. I am not trying to hook Lewis into this the wrong way, but that was the whole crux of what happened. Lewis put his brakes on so hard that Vettel hit him. I am not blaming Lewis for the accident but I have to say I have never seen anyone come off the throttle so quickly. You either do it to surprise them, but what happened was the surprise was too severe.
—  Sir Jackie Stewart about the incident between Vettel and Hamilton (x)

anonymous asked:

Wait why is roachpatrol bad again? Anon and their like never really showed sources the first time, that I've seen, so like....... Uh.....

They’re an artist who got BIG in the Homestuck fandom and who people accuse of being a pedophile because (I assume) they’ve mentioned that minors have sex drives! Imagine! Don’t think back to your high school years to remember all those kids who were getting it on because that makes you a pedophile.

Honestly, don’t take my word for what exactly happened because I haven’t followed it all, but some pissy HS fans who are super problematic and shitty in their own right started making fake callouts to anyone who slighted them or portrayed their favorite character in a way they didn’t like? It was a Cronus person that’s all I remember. But yeah, that’s all spiralled out of control because people like hunting big name fans for a variety of reasons and also no one checks a single fact ever before grabbing their pitchfork.

Since “Roach is a pedophile” doesn’t work as much as they’d like, these people have moved on to “Roachpatrol called someone the n word and is rascist!!!” and “Roachpatrol–” THE JEWISH BLOGGER “–is antisemitic!” because those are effective buzzwords who scare off anyone who don’t want to risk being associated with someone who even has a reputation of doing such a thing. I’ll note, this is same blogger who spearheaded that big movement to donate to the Holocaust museum when Nazi Hydra Captain America first became a thing!! Yup. Totally Antisemitic.


This video has such a strong message. But really..imagine a world where being gay was the normal thing and being straight was the weird thing. Its the exact same now. I’m shamed to live in a society where being gay is banned in 13 states in the USA. You should be allowed to be the person you love regardless of their gender. Here where I live, if you’re gay..we’ll you hug you & love you even more for coming out and being honest with the people around you. Before Christmas, I was in religion class and we were talking about things we believe/not believe in& people said santa, tooth fairy etc. I turned around and said to my teacher gay marriage in beliefs. She said we’ll just put marriage for now, I asked why not gay marriage & and she came right up to my face & said these words exactly “God chose Adam & Eve for sex to be between a man and a woman not 2 men and 2 woman, i think its disgusting for 2 men or 2 woman to get married it should ’not be allowed at all”. The whole class was completely shocked at what she had just said. At this point I felt like screaming at her, I said to her “so if you daughter or son, cousins, brother or sister, aunt or uncle, came out saying they were gay, you’d disown them?”. She looked at me straight in the eyes and told me to get out of her classroom, I got up and said to her “You’re a horrible person, gay people should be allowed to get married and be with each other in every country of this world.”.That was the day I got detention for standing up for gay people, what she didn’t know was myself and 4 other girls in that class were bisexual/lesbian. I had told my principle what had happen and I got that teacher suspended from the school for 3 weeks for teaching us her beliefs, and not Gods. EQUAL RIGHTS SHOULD BE ALLOWED, NOT MATTER RACE, RELIGION OR BELIEFS. thanks for reading. x

What’s with all the dad issues in the Deep-Sea Prisoner series?

Ivlis’ dad ripped his wings off and kicked him out. (Asshole)

Both of Satanick’s sons hate him. (Understandably)

Vendetto hates his dad. (It’s gotta be more than him being an airhead)

Olivia/Kurotsuno hates her dad. (Why when Sullivan’s trying so hard?)

Hanten’s dad Gyakutan is just…??? (Crazy fcker)

There’s probably more, but that’s all I can think of on the top of my head. But really, what’s with the father issues? My word.

Reprogramming (Remedy side story)

Bucky x reader

Bucky’s POV.

Notes: trigger warnings! mentions of torture, swearing, injuries, angst, fluff, submissive behaviour, subspace, subdrop, cute-ass Bucky who knows exactly how to be sweet and careful.

(I did some research after subspace, but please don’t take my word for ANY of it!)

This takes place after chapter two of Remedy. (sorta)

Remedy (1) Remedy (2)

Keep reading

Everyone cuts the gif off at Hook yelling that he always survives but my fav bit was Blackbeard yelling back “I’m counting on it and when you do don’t forget you owe me a ship” and Hook being all like “well obviously even though you have double crossed me multiple times I will still keep my word”

And that is exactly why Blackbeard knocked him out because it’s a win win for him just like Hook went into the card game with a win win strategy. Hook distracts the lost boys so Blackbeard can get away and if/when he survives he knows Hook will still make good on his deal.

Man I loved their scenes.

Familial Love

Originally posted by sssmcdlove

Father! Bucky Barnes x Daughter! Reader

A/n: So, this was just something I thought up. One of those spur-of-the-moment things, ya know?

Also, I do apologize that I haven’t filled out any requests. Today just really really sucked.

Genre: Family, Humor

Rated: Everyone

Warning: FLUFFY

Author: Chris-Evans-Imagines

I smiled as I looked at him. He was perfect. He was everything someone would want a father to be. Protective, loving, caring, generous. He was kind. He was gentle. James Buchanan Barnes was a force to be reckoned with and I was so proud of him. I was proud of my father. When Steve had found me in the cryofreezer all those years ago, I had been confused, but only for a minute. I knew why I was in that freezer, why I had been asleep for 73 years, why I was still 16. 

When I first saw him there, my chest tightened, and I cried. He had been confused and didn’t remember me. I didn’t blame him. After what HYDRA did to him, who was I to blame him, someone who had been helpless to stop it all? I was angry, hurt, confused, and most of all, I was relieved. At least he was here, at Avengers Initiative, safe and sound. That’s what mattered the most, right?

James Barnes was my favorite person in the whole world, and he still is. He makes me smile, he makes me laugh, he makes me feel safe. No one can ever touch the bond of a father and a daughter, and everyone knew that. My father and I were inseparable. Not even Steve could compare to me, my fathers words exactly. But it scares me sometimes just how far and just how much my father would do to ensure my protection.

I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind at all.

I understood why he was protective. I understood why he was so loving and caring and gentle. I understood why he was so kind to me. I was his flesh and blood. I was his kin. I was his daughter. God be damned if anything happened to the one he helped give life to. 

As I sat here, tucked safely under his metal arm, reading The Crucible, my father listened to the record player. The soft glow of the lamp gave the apartment a warm feeling as a vanilla and pumpkin spice candle burned. A plate of forgotten cookies, burnt on the bottom, was seated on the old, mahogany table. The TV was off, but a pile of old black and white DVDs sat in front, waiting to be put into the new technology called a DVD player. 

I sighed a bit and my father tightened his hold a bit, his cold, metal thumb rubbing soothing circles on my arm. As I read on, I turned the page and jolted when a sharp sting met my index finger. Looking at my finger, and watching the droplet of blood grow and start to run down, a warm hand gently grasped my hand. Looking up into those cyan eyes that I could spot a mile away, a small smile was on my fathers lips. 

“Be a little more careful, doll, please?”

“It was a small mishap.”

“I know.”

He put pressure around my index finger, stopping the blood flow, and he did so for a couple seconds. Letting go, the annoying sting of the cut still pulsed, but my wound bled no more. I smiled. My father was always there, always there to protect me and to save me. To heal my wounds, to make me smile, to make me feel okay. I knew that I would be lost without him. I knew that if I woke up from my cryofreeze pod and he was not with me, I would be lost. I would have no purpose, to be quite honest. 

As I laid my head against my fathers chest, listening to his heart beat, I smiled more. His heart beat was like a war drum. Beating slowly to the march of his thoughts. I wondered what he was thinking about. 

“What are you thinking about, Father?”

He took a deep breath, a relaxed feeling overcoming both of us as he replied.

“I’m thinking about what I would do if I didn’t have you. Who I would be, what I would be doing right now.”

I looked up and asked him.

“What would you be doing right now?”

My father looked at me and smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corner, the scruff on his cheek making the indents of his laugh lines more prominent. 

“I would be looking for a woman to help me give me you.”

I snorted a bit and asked.

“So, you would bed a woman just so you could get her pregnant…just so she would have me?”

“Well, now that you say it like that…”

We both chuckled and Dad kissed my forehead, saying.

“I would be completely lost if I didn’t have you here with me, Sunshine.”

I sighed a bit and replied, letting my book fall as I wrapped my arms around his torso, hugging him close.

“Me too. But we shouldn’t think about the what if’s, you know. I’m here, you’re here. We’re here. We’re home, even if it’s not our true home.”

He chuckled a bit and replied.

“You’re so wise.”

I snorted once more and replied.

“I guess that’s what happens when you lose everything for the ones you love.”

He was quiet after that. I understood why. 

Such a big statement with such a bigger meaning. He knew. I knew. But if I could lose everything just to be with my father, I would do it all again. I love my father. When I had found out he fell from the train, I had been heartbroken. I had consoled Steve, and Steve had become hostile to anyone who came near me. I was the only thing left to remind him of Bucky, and that was ok with me. When I saw him standing there, 73 years later, I remember how my father’s eyes lit up so brightly. The shock on his face had me in tears. I was with my father again. 

A father/daughter bond is a strong thing. It is stronger than any bond in the world. And I would do anything to protect that bond, even lose everything I knew to time travel 73 years in the future, where I knew I would find my best friend; my father.

Familial love is such a special thing.

And I’ll never forget it.



Requested by lukebebe : “Could you write a nick Robinson imagine where I (Louise if you do personals if not that’s fine) get a job playing Ryder’s girlfriend on Melissa and Joey and we start to like each other and after me talking to Melissa and him talking to Joey they set us up? Maybe some smut if you do that?”

here you go, darling. i’m not sure if this what you imagined but i’m having major writer’s block for nick imagines, i’m so sorry. hope you like it. xx sorry for the wait!


“Come on, Ryder.” I smiled, pulling at his sleeve, out the back door, off the set.

“Cut!” I heard the director shout so we could hear. “That was good guys. I’m going to take that as the final. You guys have two hours until next scene.”

I smiled at Nick, as he walked away. I turned and before I could take a step, Melissa was there. “Hi.”

“You like him.” Mel smiled, with this look on her face that I could barely stand lying to.

“No, I don’t.” I said, trying to right-step her but she blocked it. “He doesn’t like me, anyways.” I looked down, biting my lip.

“Oh, you don’t know that. I think he would be very interested in you.” She had this smirk on her face, I knew she had some plan.

She walked me into one of the dressing rooms and talked to me for a bit, until there was a sound at the door. Mel just looked over like she knew what was going on.

“Get in there, Nicholas, I swear.” Joey pushed a resistant Nick into the room with me.

“No, Joey. Please, she doesn’t like me. I’m sure. Stop ruining it.” Joey shut the door with Nick inside and leaned against it. I looked back to Mel but she was gone.

“You better make something work!” Joey screams from outside. “This entire set is full of sexual tension.”

“I knew you kind of liked me.” I laughed as Nick finally gave up on trying to open the door.

“You did, huh? I knew you liked me.” Nick restated my words, smirking. “Well, not exactly, but now I do.” He said, wiping that oblivious look off his face.

I walked over to him, trying to listen if Joey was still there. I knew Nick for a while now, we had been for a while. He looked down at me, I looked up slowly. He rested his hand on my cheek, and hesitated for a second but then leaned down and kissed me. It was exactly how I imagined, his arms slipped around my waist protectively and I snaked my arms around his neck. I smiled into the kiss, pulling away for second, catching my breath for a moment. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to do that?” He smiled, making me giggle.

I gently shoved him down onto the couch, straddling him, leaning my face down. “Well, you don’t have to wait anymore.” I smirked, as he laid his hands on my lower back.

Suddenly, there was an opening of the door with Mel and Joey there. Mel was just excited bouncing up and down, giving us thumbs up. Joe shook his head. “That’s not what I meant by make something work.”

“Well, it works.” Nick smiled, sitting up, and I blushed into his shoulder.

If it was even possible, my job had just got even better. Now not only did I get to kiss Ryder, I got to kiss Nick, as well.

(as usual, guys, requests always welcome in my inbox)