A/N: Okay, I got a little carried away writing this one.
The whole cafeteria went silent when Bucky sauntered towards you, all eyes landing on you as you felt heat rising to your face. Your vocabulary escaped you when Bucky said his greeting, handing you the roses and chocolates. You were speechless. You had no words to say, but Bucky had some of his own.
“How come you didn’t go to the west wing before lunch? Didn’t you receive my note?” Bucky asked quietly, his love-struck eyes gazing your way as he knelt down in front of you. “I told Steve to leave it on your desk,” he recalled as you let out a sigh, realizing that your theory was right. Steve was the person who left the note on your desk. “Why didn’t you stop by?” he questioned, frowning at the thought.
A/N: I’m not going to lie, I intended this to be a 500 word thing, but woop it ended up being over 2,000 yikes. I hope you guys like it, it’s actually my first official piece for Kirk. :) I’m kinda excited. Reblogs and likes are appreciated, as is feedback!
Title: Star Kisses. Pairing: Captain James T. Kirk x Female!Reader. Words: 2319. Rating: T.
“Here,” Kirk urged and sat a shot glass in front of you. It was full, to the very brim and a few drops of it landed on his fingers and landed silently on the bar table in front of you, “it’s on me.” The smile he gave you was charming enough to make your heart flutter inside of your chest.
“Thank you, Captain.” You replied and gazed down at the light brown liquid in the shot glass.
The smile on his face faltered ever so slightly at the name you had chosen to call him, his hand bringing his drink to his full lips so he could take a drink. Jim chuckled behind the glass before setting it down once again, this time, with a small ‘pat’ as it made contact with the oak counter. “You know, you don’t need to call me Captain right now. We’re not on duty.” Emphasizing his words, he nodded his head and looked at you.
This was very correct, but earlier this evening, you still found yourself surrounded by people like Pavel, Scotty, Leonard, Spock and Uhura, all of whom had already left, leaving you alone with the Captain. And as right as he was, you couldn’t find it in yourself to call him by anything else. He was your Captain, and you had forever called him that since you met him nearly three years ago. Prior to that, you had heard things about him while at Starfleet Academy, but you didn’t have the glorious opportunity of meeting him until you were assigned to the Enterprise, under the Science division. You had been working rather closely with Leonard, and in turn, Captain Kirk, since your time aboard, and had heard things from Leonard himself.
Pushing back what he had told you, that being “Jim is a womanizer, I wouldn’t think about getting too close”, you picked your shot up, and downed it. The alcohol burned at your throat as it slid down, and for a second, you scrunched your face up and sighed. It wasn’t an awful taste, but it was stronger than you had anticipated. The rush of drinking it lit up your senses momentarily as you were tugged back into reality by the drawl of his deep voice.
“You can call me Jim.” He swallowed another drink, but you hadn’t even noticed that he picked up his glass again and was now waving it, signaling the bartender that he wanted another. His jaw clenched, the muscles there contracting in front of your eyes. The lighting that bounced off his skin was giving the appearance of godliness, illuminating his sharp features, the curve of his mouth, which curled mischievously on the sides, and the arch of his thick eyebrows. He continued. “Or if you want, James. I guess whichever you like better.”
“Kirk,” You said rather hastily and clutched the shot glass tightly in your hands.
“That works too.” As if he needed to be any more visually attractive, he turned in his seat to give you a smile that you were positive you’d never seen from anyone before. Whether it was made up of cockiness and slight drunkenness, or perhaps happiness, you couldn’t tell. But, it was the kind of smile that started at the edges of his mouth, to the edges around his bright eyes. It was a full on grin, and not one out of politeness. “As long as it’s not Captain.” He mumbled, watching with careful eyes as the bartender picked up his now empty glass and replaced it with a full one. Kirk gazed at you from his peripherals and slid the glass towards you and slurred to the bartender, “Can I get another one?” He was leaning forward in his seat, his ribcage rubbing against the edge of the counter.
A minute later, Kirk was drink in hand again and let his attention dwindle back to you. Lifting his glass, he knocked it towards you and whispered, “I’d like to make a toast. Well, more like a friendly gesture.” His mouth shut and he pursed his lips, his blue eyes fluttering as he tried to stay sane.
You chuckled quietly, watching him compose himself enough to actually speak clearly. You’d never seen him in such a state, and though you were sure a lot of other crew members might have, you still found it heart-wrenching that he appeared to trust you enough to see him like this. Not composed, to the point where speaking was a problem, and loose enough to actually have a good time without having to worry about the lives that were usually at stake on the Enterprise. His hair was slightly disheveled, and rather than lying to the left, parted neatly, it was rather messy, a few pieces scattered as if he pushed his hand through it multiple times this evening. This, you didn’t doubt. He was in civilian clothing, as were you, wearing a pair of tight blue jeans, a black t-shirt under a vintage leather jacket. Kirk, undoubtedly, looked amazing. And the way he moved, made you wonder if this was something he was aware of, or if he had enough to drink to be cockier than he usually was.
Nodding in agreement, you raised your glass so it paralleled his. “I for one, never realized how pretty you are,” He started rather confidently, “Wait, wait.” kirk squeezed his eyes shut, “I lie. I did realized… Realize how pretty you were, I was just too much of a baby to say anything to you, plus,” He leaned forward and momentarily, his glass rubbed against your own, “Bones would kill me if I tried to get with you. He’s like your dad or something, it’s kind of scary.” Kirk hiccuped, “I swear, this is no-not the alcohol talking. (Name)… I am very, very interested in you.”
“Isn’t that a conflict of interest, sir?” You asked and held your glass tightly. You were positive if the grip on it wasn’t so rough, it would slide out of your grip and explode on the floor. His words, and the brave tone of voice he had used, made your face burst with heat. Starting in the middle of your cheeks, to expand and sweep up to the tip of your ears. You weren’t sure if you were red, but if Kirk did mention, you could always blame it on the alcohol. “I’m one of your crew members… You’re the Captain. You’re directly above me. I don’t think it’s appro-”
“I don’t think the way you’re avoiding this is appropriate.” He suddenly said, sharply and clearly enough for you to understand, “You- you…” Kirk’s brows furrowed together, “don’t think I notice you staring? Or, or the way you get nervous around me?” You rested your glass back onto the counter. “I usually don’t know what I’m doing, I like to wing it, and I don’t like rules,” He explained to you, “But, I dunno. I kinda wanna see what it’s like to know what I’m doing.”
“We’d be fraternizing, sir.” His baby blue eyes shot up at that word.
“Well, technically, yeah.” Kirk gave you a sly grin, his voice rocketing inside of your ear, “But, I can bend the ruuuules just a little.” You knew this to be true, in some senses. But in others, not so much. What he’d call ‘bending the rules’ was actually flat out breaking them, sometimes with absolutely barbaric outcomes, sometimes, without any.
For a brief second, that felt like five minutes, you heavily considered this. The outcome, the entirety of the situation. Condensation lifted itself onto your chilled glass, dripping down onto the coaster that protected the oak counters from damage.
“If ya don’t say something, I’m taking it as a no, and I’m going to leave and cry my eyes out tonight.” Kirk joked, though deep down, you wondered if he was being serious. It was obvious that he two things when drunk. Emotional, and macho. Depending on the situation, these two things worked together beautifully, but as of right now, they were messing with your mind. “I mean, Uhura and Spock… They fra…” He had to pause and think of the word, “Fraternize, don’t they? By definition of the word, I mean. They have a personal relationship, which is what you’re implying would happen if we did, say…” You looked at him, watching as his mouth moved before taking a swig of the drink in his hand, “Kiss tonight.”
Kirk had leaned forward, only about a foot away from your face. One foot was on the floor steadying him so he didn’t stumble right on top of you. You could see the close up details of his face, the mischievous playfulness that rested behind his eyes. The two of you looked into each other’s eyes for what felt like eternity before he finally spoke, “I know you want to. I can see it.”
This was undoubtedly true.
And the fact that you wanted nothing more than to kiss him right then and there, was also undoubtedly true.
“Is it still considered fraternizing if we do it off duty?” He intrigued, setting his glass down on the counter.
“Nothing’ll change the fact that you are the Captain of the Enterprise and I-”
“Bones was right,” Kirk chuckled and grasped the back of your head slowly. His fingers expanded, tangling into the depths of your hair, causing a shudder to break out down your spine at the sudden amount of affection he was giving you. “You’re such a goody two-shoes…” Kirk raised his hand and lightly pushed his thumb against your lips. It took all you had not to peep your tongue out, “You like to follow the rules because they give you structure, I don’t blame you,” He replaced his finger, with his mouth, it only being a few inches away from kissing yours, his breath dancing on your face and the vague taste of his lips lingering on yours overpowered you as he mumbled delicately, “but, you need to learn how to break a rule every once and awhile. Let me give you some structure. I’ve been told I’m good at that.”
“Who told you that?” You laughed quietly, biting down on your bottom lip.
“Uhm,” Kirk shut his eyes and puffed quietly, leaning his forehead against yours. “T-That doesn’t matter right now. Some girl, I think. First year at the Academy. Then again, she coulda been talking about something else.” Kirk had raised his eyebrows suggestively, opening his eyes in the process, “If you let me kiss yo-”
“You talk a lot.” You informed him, your right hand reaching forward to rest on his thigh as if to remind him you were only a few inches away from him, “I knew you did before, but this is a little extensive.”
“That, I have also been told. Actually, by Bones like three hours ago—”
“Let me talk, then.” Kirk popped his mouth shut at your sudden assertion and nodded. “Let’s say… I let you kiss me… We are off duty, after all…” He licked his mouth slowly, tantalizing you, “Then what?”
He smirked, ever so slightly, but enough for you to take notice, “I’d kiss you again. And again, and probably again…” He was inching closer and closer to you, the hand that was once on his thigh now resting on his side. The fabric of his leather jacket played at your fingertips as he craned his head down, his lips barely grazing against yours. It was minimal contact, but it was still enough to make your entire body light up. Starting at your lips, your senses came alive. There was a small beating at the base of your skull, like a headache, but oddly enough, it felt soothed when Kirk began brushing his fingers through your hair. Your mouth yearned for more when he push for a deeper, harder kiss.
There was something inexplicably wild about what was happening, his free hand raising to cup your jawline, subsequently making your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. For a minute, Kirk seemed to overpower you, his hands keeping you from moving, and yours bracing yourself against his body as he stood up from his seat. He ran the hand in your hair forward and grasped the other side of your jawline to cup your entire face, his mouth rapid against yours without necessarily pulling away. He tasted like everything he had to drink this evening. A bit of Cranberry vodka, a bit of a Bud Light Classic. Simultaneously, Kirk tasted sweet, bitter and warm. To contradict this, he felt physically soft. You had expected otherwise. You’d expected for the muscles of his torso to be hard, unmoving under your fingertips, and from between the fabric of his shirt. But, it wasn’t. Kirk was literally melting against you, his entire body, from head to toe, as if he needed to be near you. His mouth was melding against yours, assuring both of you were pleased by the pressure of the kiss.
It was a secure sensation. A structured action.
Pulling away from each other was the hardest thing to do. Kirk had stayed true to his words, and when his lips ceased contact with your own, even for a breath, he was diving in for another peck. The small, almost chaste kisses left you wanting much more.
You lifted your shoulders and breathed in heavily, his hands now resting on your forearms. It was chilly now, that you weren’t embraced by his warmth, but his fingers kept some parts of your skin warm. “Jim…”
“I knew I’d get you to call me by my name.” He chuckled cutely, running his hands up and down your arms, “I like how you say it… I like how it sounds. It’s like… The stars are calling my name.”
“That’s cheesy.” You whispered lightly, bumping your nose against his.
Gone is the grey, gone are the northern winds. At long last the frost has set in, revealing the sky in its clearest shade of celestial blue. The world seems to be smiling again. I walked the lands in the typical calm of a Sunday morning. Silent roads, except for the few good people walking their dogs. I was alone when it happened. Gazing over the fields, I was suddenly awe-struck by the white of frost covering the plains of grass. The astonishing shade of bluish green, now embellishing the earth, could only be caused by the sky’s reflection. It was all so pure and wonderful. I let my eyes glide over the vast open territory, all the way to the horizon. There, where the pale of bluish green met and blended with the dark shaded blue of dawn’s sky, breaking through the distant trees, I saw the beauty of your viridian eyes. For a while, nature almost mesmerized me as much as you would do with a single glance. And I was grateful to be alive to bask in this short-lived moment. Finally I was able to paint with words the image of your eyes in all their changing hues, from grey to greenish blue; from viridian all the way to that most vivid celestial. Everything I saw in your eyes was captured in that moment where I gazed over the frost covered fields. Ultimately gazing into nothingness; letting my vision blur to capture the entire panorama of all this splendor. Truly, a breathtaking moment. Often have I compared your eyes to the North Sea’s aquamarine, but you were never a type to embody water, besides, the North Sea is far too green. I tried catching your gaze in turquoise agate crystals, shimmering in broken volcanic stones. But their sparkle is too dependent of light, and though I find them captivating, the rocks are dead and cold. I have looked for you during spring and summer, where a deep shade of sky blue adorns the heavens. Close to my heart, this vibrant hue, but no – it never was you. All this time I was looking in the wrong places, and never could I have expected to find you during this season. You were always warm and passionate; sun-kissed skinned, a summer child. Or perhaps a child of spring, seeing your jubilant, lively walk of life; the way the world seemed to come in full bloom, simply by the virtue of your smile. Never would I have expected to find your gaze in winter. Yet here you are truly, on a calm Sunday morning at the first day of frost. Clearing the skies and making the world seem pure again; chasing away the northern winds and making me feel warm when I most need it. Here, at the border between heaven and earth, I found you. It couldn’t have been any other way, could it? I am grateful, and I sigh, blessed by this moment where I felt your presence.
Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you plann’d:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad. -Remember, Christina Rossetti
The panic was setting in, and the worry. You had about two hours of sunlight left, what if you didn’t find her? The poor thing might be somewhere, scared and hungry. You knew your friend would search all night for her dog, so you had to find her.
Earlier in the day your friend had called you. Before she even told you what was wrong you could tell something had gone horribly wrong. Her dog, Mimzy, had gotten out. And she was lost somewhere in the streets of Seoul. So you volunteered to search with others. You had landed in a park. Leash and doggy biscuits in hand. Silently you prayed to yourself that Mimzy would come dashing out of the woods. Your luck was never that good though.
Here’s the new series I’ve been working on for a couple weeks now. I hope you guys like it! This is my first time writing something so involved and I put a lot of time and thought into it and I hope you guys enjoy it.
AAHHH IM NERVOUS ITS FINE
Warnings for the overall series: Fluff, angst, violence, enemy death,
Summary: You worked at HYDRA under your father for most of your life. You met the Winter Soldier when you were young. This story takes place 17 years later.
You’ll never forget the first time you saw the Winter Soldier.
His skin was blue and dripping with cold, his feet dragging on the floor as they pulled him out of the cyrogenic tank and threw him in the chair. His blue eyes glistened behind his long, ratted hair. They landed on you and seemed to silently beg you for help. They pulled you in and revealed his fear and tiny glimpses of hope.
You watched his body tense and shake, his arms hold onto the chair, his lips spread and teeth grip onto the mouth guard. You listened to his screams, heard him beg for mercy and even death.
But you knew it was fake. He was playing you. He wanted you to give in to him. He wanted you close enough so he could kill you without a second thought and take HYDRA for his own. That’s what you believed because that’s what they told you.
It’s hard to believe you were looking at the same man.
Seventeen years later, most things were the same. His hair was still long, his blue eyes still held their fear, his body still tall and strong.
But now, and for the past few weeks, you noticed some changes. He smiles. A small grin, polite and kind. His metal arm never sees the light of day. It’s always covered by long sleeves and a glove.
You sit on the same bench every day, across the street from the market and watch him buy his fruit. Mostly plums, sometimes grapes and apples.
It warms your heart to see him doing well. Moving on. He’s healthy and as happy as a forced ex-murderer in hiding could be.
But it also broke your heart. He couldn’t go home because they would find him. He can’t go back to his friends and family because they’re all dead.
But it also broke your heart that he is making a little life without you. You missed him.
My friend was at a party and in the neon lights she had vision about a little girl in a foreign world full of hills and green pastures. One night the stars didn’t show at her sky and instead they began walking the lands in the shape of sinister creatures. They were silent and faceless. As the people had to flee behind a curtain to another world, which was red and full of turmoil, the girl stayed behind, invisible and unable to connect with another human soul until the astral demons were defeated and the country was safe once more.
My friend then came to warn me, so we would be prepared for the coming of the stars.
I didn’t believe her tale assuming drugs or anxiety being the source of her premonitions, but let her stay anyway to wait for the monsters to appear. They didn’t show. We didn’t sleep that night and still woke up in the morning.
After my friend left I went back into my room, now flooded by daylight, and saw two drawn figures move in their frames. I realized we had been wrong about the nature of our demons and that they had arrived, indeed.
I gently hit them with a baseball bat, leaving small round fractures in the glass right over the figures’ hearts.
Summary: The reader is on a cruise to Alaska - her graduation present from college - when she finds out that she is to marry someone of her parent’s choosing. Can a stranger on the ship help her find happiness and escape her family’s expectations?
warnings: angst, arranged marriage
word count: ~1620
Your mother had texted you another eight times as you sat
silently with Dean watching the land disappear – until the ship was far enough
off shore for your cell phone to lose service.
You finally decided to head back to your room to change for dinner, as you
had a formal meal scheduled in the dining room that evening. With a short and simple goodbye to Dean, you
left the peaceful eighth-floor deck.
Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature — the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.
It’d been over a year since you’d last seen Sam and that parting has been brutal guns,blades and lots of blood. Enough blood to soak through your clothes, Sams’ and the floor boards.
Unsure of your welcome you wearily approached the warehouse that the Winchesters had just entered on the hunt for
Zophiel, a rogue angel. Little did they know you were on the same hunt. Silently landing inside you let your eyes adjust as you visually tracked their movements.
Sam poured the circle of holy oil, while Dean prayed trying to lure him there. After a short wait there was a sneer from the back of the building. “You know at first I wasn’t going to come but a call from the Winchesters and one of their angels. Who could resist that.”
“I don’t know what ‘angels’ you’re talking about asshat” spreading his hands, Dean made a gesture as if to show the obvious, “but Castiel is obviously not here with us.” Dean was trying to taunt Zophiel, and from the look on his face it was starting to work.
Dean started backing away. “I know Castiel is not with you, ape.” Zophiel followed his retreat step by step. “I’m talking about the other one, the one who fell in love with a mortal.”
Both brothers looked honestly baffled, but quickly shook it off as Zophiel stepped into the ring. Sam threw a lighter and the angel let out an enraged bellow as he was trapped in holy fire. “You fools! Why are you trapping me? I have done nothing to your angels or their precious mortals.”
Your shaggy hair hero wearily shook his head as he joined his brother. “That’s true you’ve left us alone, but you have been killing people.”
“Monsters, not people.” Before the trio could argue any further you jumped into the ring of fire with your brother and quickly smote him.
Turning to shocked Winchesters you asked as calmly as you could. “Since I’m obviously not dead would you mind letting me out? I’ve got another hunt to get to.”
Summary: Derek is about to leave, content with the smell of blood as proof that the Fury is dead when he hears it.
It’s faint and uneven and even with its help, it takes Derek a full
minute of scanning the clearing before he finally spots the small heap
that must be the human. It’s down on the far side of the canyon, almost
completely hidden by a tall oak tree and–Derek jumps down before he
thinks about it.He knows what he has to do. Furies are dangerous. Furies are fire
and smoke and a funeral he barely remembers. He lands almost silently
and makes sure his hands are fully shifted into claws and then slowly
Or, a How to Train Your Dragon AU
Info: 32k | Mature
Notes: You know a fic is good, when you want to read 50k more of it and get to know the whole world author created and basically you want more. I really loved the idea for HTTYD au, it was something else than I was expecting and so much better! Like how Stiles was the Fury and the whole background story and Scott and mixed POV which gave us so many feels from both sides and I really hope there will be a sequel, because of reasons! Also the art was just amazing and the art with the story made just a perfect fit!
Stiles’ face slides into something softer, almost hopeful, then-
Word count: 2722 Genre: Angst, fluff, smut Pairing: Yoongi x Reader Summary: You’ve become pregnant with Yoongi’s child and the two of you are trying to hide it from BigHit. When they unexpectedly find out, neither of you were prepared for their reaction.
through your drunkenness it was Yoongi streaming through your blood the minute
you saw him. His skin was pale in the dark bar, the city lights shining in on
his back as he stood near the doorway, his eyes scanning the crowd before
landing on you. Your head was on the counter, silently observing him, distant
from reality. The second he saw your frame hunched over the bar with empty
glasses around you, his eyes began to water as he rushed to you. You weren’t certain
if he’d be angry or mad, but when he finally grabbed you, he was shaking.
Neither of you said a word, all you could hear through the drunken haziness was
the distant sound of sobs while you blankly sat in Yoongi’s embrace. This
situation was hopeless; you knew it. Everything had gotten too messed up to
ever return to what it had once been. He lifted you by the legs as he carried
you out the bar and walked you up to your apartment, sitting you down on the
stairs as he got your keys from your bag and carried you into the apartment. He
went straight to the bathroom, situating you on top of the counter next to the
sink as he removed the majority of your clothes, leaving you in your bra and
pants as he wetted a cloth and began removing the makeup from your face. His
eyes were still red, the silence carrying an uncanny resemblance to the last
time you saw each other. It was strange how it had been all those months
without each other’s touch, yet Yoongi knew every curve of your face like the
back of his palm and he could’ve sworn he had seen the bra you were wearing
before. You gradually returned to reality, your face still blank, a state which
Yoongi had never seen you in. You felt lifeless, in a way. His mouth twitched
every now and then, tears silently rolling down his face as he broke eye
contact and looked at your small hands, resting on your lap and he looked at
the morbid sight of your stomach, knowing that there wasn’t anything there
anymore. His Yoona wasn’t there anymore. He touched your stomach, his brows
furrowing as he felt the sadness emerge, whispering a quiet “I’m so sorry” as he exhaled.
You were still quiet, but you found it somewhere within you to grab his hand.
He kissed it and looked at you, as beautiful as you had always been to him. “I had to trace your phone to find you…” he
silently mumbled. “I looked everywhere in Seoul, I asked
everyone… I stood in front of your apartment for days hoping you’d come back. I
was so scared, Y/N…” his voice was trembling and it became less sturdy with
every word. “I let you down, Yoongi…” were the
first words you spilled, your lips sticky from being shut for so long, and your
He grabbed your face with his right hand, caressing your cheek as he studied
your face through the tears in his eyes. “All I ever wanted was to be with you,
why didn’t you trust me?” And with that it was as if life returned to your body, tears emerging as
you came back to reality, realizing that you were sitting in your bathroom with
Yoongi and that it all still felt so hopeless. “Nobody accepts us, Yoongi. Nobody wanted
me in your world.”
“I wanted you in my world! Everyone wants you in my world except for BigHit and
I won’t let them take you away from me. What the fuck are you doing in Gwangju,
this is not your home!”
“I don’t have a home…” “I’m your home. You’re my home, we’ve
both been homeless for months and now I’m looking at you and you still feel
very much like home to me.” It was true, you know. Being under Yoongi’s hands, feeling his soft lips so
close to yours and looking into his dark eyes truly felt like going home. For
that little while, there had been no scandal, stillbirth, no separation.
Everything was okay in that little bubble, knowing that exactly as the stars
were positioned right now, everything was supposed to be okay in that little
bathroom in a shitty apartment outside of Gwangju. “Stay with me, Y/N…” You looked at him silently before carefully nodding, a certain uncertainty
to your acceptance. Then he kissed you, he kissed you as if he returned all
color to the world. With his hands around your face, his lips drowned in yours
as if you were holding onto the very source he used to breathe. Perhaps you
were. His plush lips crashed into your own, his tongue carefully entering as if
it was asking for permission. It was then that your body reacted, your hands
instantly rushing to his hair as you sharply inhaled and pulled him closer. He
exhaled as he let his hands travel to your waist, squeezing you closer to him.
His tongue was no longer careful, and the two of you were sloppily spilling every
drop of the desperation the two of you had felt for all those months. He moaned
into the kiss, a careful “Y/N..”
spoken in his deep voice as his lips travelled to your neck, you bending back
for access. You pulled his shirt off, exposing his marble clear skin as his
body moved with yours. It was when he started unbuttoning your jeans that he
stopped, the two of you breathing heavily into each other in the little space,
realizing how badly you needed each other. His forehead was resting on yours as
he let out three words that sent shivers down your spine. “I love you…” he breathed into your
mouth nervously, and you felt as if you were going to burst. “I love you.” you were out of breath.
Out of breath and in love.
He embraced you once more as the two of you resumed, him ripping your pants
down as he lifted you on his hips before walking you into the living room and
laying you down on the couch, his body now hovering over yours as you finally gathered
the courage to begin removing his pants. His cock was apparent even through his
jeans, but it wasn’t until you grabbed him by the thickness that you
involuntarily let out a moan. He let out the faintest smirk before his brows
furrowed from the touch, his hand instantly travelling to your heat. He slid
your panties to the side as he slid his fingers through your fold, pressing his
thumb at your clit as he let a finger enter you, crooking it at the exact same
spot he always would, the familiarity giving you goosebumps. He lifted you up
as he sat down, guiding you to sit on top of him as you slid onto his cock –
neither of you had time for foreplay, a sudden greediness emerging. It started
out slow as he filled you up. He didn’t break eye contact as he held you by the
ribs, bouncing you up and down as he watched your features illuminate in the dark
room. It wasn’t until you picked up your pace that he furrowed his brows as he
threw his head back as he felt overwhelmed by how you felt. “Fuck, I’ve missed you…” he grunted
through his heavy breaths. His eyes began travelling down your body as his
hands played with your breasts before guiding one down to your heat, placing
two fingers on your clit as he began rubbing circles. Your brows furrowed as
your moans got louder, your climax drastically nearing. Then, as if out of the
blue, you were twitching on top of him, a rush of vivid colors enveloping you
before everything turned white, him slamming himself into you as he came
himself and the two of you found each other in the blissful state. You rode him
out, letting him slowly return to reality when he shifted down with you, making
you lay on the couch, facing each other in the dark as he brushed the hair off
your face, smiling at you before embracing you in yet another kiss. “Don’t leave me, Y/N. We can get through
everything together.” You smiled hesitantly, a worry pitted in your stomach as you came back down
from your high. You had felt at peace until now, as you looked down on the
still apparent bump, remembering how nothing was at peace yet. He noticed how
your face straightened and placed a hand on your bump. “Trust me… We’ll bloom through these
hardships. There’s obviously a reason this is all happening.”
It was unlike Yoongi to be neither philosophical nor optimistic, but there was
something about the way you looked that made him distance himself from his cynical
side. At least for tonight. You swallowed as you let out the only words that
had been on your mind for the last 6 months. “I’m scared.”
A silence grew before he swallowed, furrowed his brows and broke eye contact as
he licked his lips. “I’m scared, too.” he admitted.
You looked at him and smiled sympathetically, a strange peace falling upon you
knowing that you weren’t alone. He turned on his back to face the ceiling,
pulling you so that your head was on his chest. You could feel his heart race
beneath you as his palms became sweaty. “I don’t want to leave BTS, Y/N. I never wanted
to leave BTS and I’m terrified of maybe having to leave BTS.” You saw how he fearfully spat the words out, an instant feeling of regret
pouring over him as the words had left his mouth. He didn’t want you to think
that he prioritized BTS over a family with you, but he also knew that you had
to hear the honest truth. You knew all of it already, though. “I know. That’s why I left.”
“But I can’t live without you, Y/N. That’s the problem. It’s been half a year
and I still remember every inch of your skin, every mole, every strand of hair.
I could tell you exactly how many eyelashes you have, even now! I haven’t
talked to you for half a year yet your voice resonates deep within me. I have
been terribly unhappy without you…” You traced your fingers along his abs, a sadness rushing through you as you
realized that you couldn’t live without him either. “What should we do, Yoongi?”
“Come home with me. I’ll settle it with BigHit.”
“Yoongi, I have to…” your voice cracked at the sudden slam in the face that
reality had given you. Things weren’t peachy. Things weren’t just going back to
what they had been. You had lost a child and there was no way of saying that
you had to get rid of it. No matter how you’d word it, each sentence was more
morbid than the next. And then you’d have to go back to living your old life.
It all felt twisted as you swallowed and decided that the easiest way to spill
it was directly. “I have my induced labor in a few days…”
The realization hit him too, his face straightening with sadness as he settled
into the idea. “I’ll be there with you.” he sturdily
replied with no emotion in his voice.
“Y/N!” they screamed harmonically as you entered the
dorm with your bags in your hands, Yoongi right behind you. Taehyung jumped
from his seat to greet you, only realizing that your bump was gone after the
hug. “Where… Are you okay?” Your eyes began to water as everyone’s eyes were on you, knowing that you
had to speak the words you hated the most. “I lost it…” Taehyung immediately grew quiet, his eyes red as he sat down to take it in.
The rest hugged you and tried to comfort you in the best way possible as Yoongi
patted your back. Namjoon was behind them all and lifted you up when he finally
got to greet you. “You look as cute as ever.” he smiled
as he tried to gather the courage to explain himself. Jin interrupted him as he
asked if you were hungry, telling everyone that he’d be making lunch for them
today. It was strange how they greeted you with no hesitance, taking you in as
if you had barely been gone. Taehyung was still quiet and you were quite
surprised at how affected he was. You sat next to him as the boys entered the
kitchen, looking at the ground in front of you. “It’s really hard, you know?”
“I just wish we were there for you. I can’t believe that you had to go through
that alone and that we didn’t do anything to stop it. We were really scared
during that time, our bond with BigHit had worsened a lot and Yoongi was really
scared and acting up. And to think that we had yelled so much in front of the
baby, what if…” his voice was getting a little shaky and the usually happy
Taehyung began unravelling before you. “No, no, don’t say that. That had no
effect, trust me. It just… kinda happens, sometimes.”
“I feel really guilty.” You hugged him as he placed his head on top of yours, wiping his tears
away. “I’m happy you’re back, Y/N.” he
smiled shyly and the two of you sat there hugging until Jin called from the
kitchen and all of you sat around the table. Yoongi had stayed with you near
Gwangju for the few days, helping you move out and dealing with the last stuff
you had to deal with, this being the first time you had seen the rest of the
boys in a while. You shared stories and somehow a laugh creeped up every now
and then and you finally felt at peace until you heard a knock on the door that
made everyone twitch with surprise.
The manager walked in and you grew very small when his voice echoed through the
dorm, filling the room with fear. “Yoongi, you’re back. Y/N, hello.” There was a calm in his voice that you felt could fuel storms. It was
unsettling and you feared every second as beads of sweat formed in your hands.
He inspected you briefly before noticing your bump was gone, his brows
furrowing with confusion. You noticed how his facial features changed and
expected it to be about the baby, a courage growing within you as you cut him
off. “I lost it.” you raised your brows at
him, waiting for him to quit staring.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise as his eyes shifted from your eyes to the
ground in front of him. “I’m terribly sorry for your loss, Y/N.” his
voice remained professional and with a distance.
Everyone grew uncomfortable around the table, Namjoon watching you as he saw
you get angry. “Let’s talk outside, this shouldn’t be
happening in front of her.” he picked himself up and walked out with the
manager behind him, closing the door to the balcony as they spoke. “I respectfully have to request that you
let them be together. She lost a child, for Christ’s sake. He’s a much better
performer and a much better person when they’re together. Please, no more of
this mess. It has done nobody any good.” Namjoon tried to remain
professional although his desperation was clear.
The manager observed him, a persistent silence until he finally inhaled sharply
letting out a “Well, fate obviously wants them to be
together, so I’ll allow it. But we have to go through the ways to behave in
public and how to let the ARMYs know. There must be some professional aspect
that must be taken into consideration before letting one of the most known guys
in South Korea openly date.” Namjoon nodded as his face tightened, a slight satisfaction creeping up on
him, knowing that no matter what happened now, the two of you could be
together. As fate would want it.
Two lines. Your
eyes shifted to the left. Pregnant. How often is a pregnancy test wrong? Yahoo answers. Very, very rarely. Probably never.
This was the final part of Two Lines! Whoo, what a ride!! I hope you all enjoyed it, hehe, you can send me requests or feedback here. <3
Imagine being the first person Clark finds when he comes back
You were sitting in your living room when your heard the knock on the window. This shocked you and made you jump. Your apartment was on the 5th floor. You got up and went to see what it was. When you saw you immediately cried out and opened the window.
“Clark?” you said as he came in and landed. He pulled you into a warm embrace. He was silently holding you as close as he could. “I thought you were dead,” you whispered.
“I’m sorry,” he said, running your fingers through your hair.
“How are you here?” you asked. Clark gave you a little smirk.
“It’s not that easy to kill me,” he said. You smiled.
“Of course not. I should have known better,” you said.
“You should have,” he said then kissed you like he thought he would never kiss you again. And in that moment, you felt complete again.
“You are nothing but a
waste of space.” His words hurt more than the slap he landed against your
cheek following his insult.
The Queen’s Ballroom fell silent and everyone turns to the
slightly raised dais where the King, Joffrey of House Baratheon and Lannister,
and his betrothed, that’s you, had been sitting. Sitting, at least, until you
had accidently knocked over your glass of wine. With wide eyes full of horror
you had watched the wine drip down off the table cloth onto the red trousers
the King was dressed in that evening.
Dungeons In Dragons, Season 1, Session 16: “The Epicurean of Souls”
The party descends into a narrow dirt tunnel with specks of light peeking through chipping dirt and clay. Vera, detecting Illusion and Abjuration magic all around them, dispels the Illusion to find themselves suspended above the jungle landscape they previously stood upon. Without understanding how any of this is possible, they observe below themselves a timelapse of the massive island reformed by life and civilization, time rushing forward with each step. They watch as people rise into kingdoms and cities at the cost of nature, only for those structures to be destroyed, leaving the world ravaged. Evelyn finally recognizes this strange land as the continent of Pangaea, and they silently observe the rise and fall of civilization in an endless cycle. At the invisible tunnel’s end, they reach the modern day, where the landscape, cities, and world appears as they know it now.
Shaken, they appear in a circular stone room adorned with a chessboard and three pieces on each side: two knights and one politician, identical in appearance to their opponents. Overlooking the room is yet another stone dragon head in the shape of Tiamat, with the inscription below of “Choose Your Side.” As the group argues about which side to join, Evelyn, Vera, and If try a few configurations of movement and placement. Ignis primarily remains in the center of the board, pondering the nature of the choice and even briefly speaks with the dark god Tiamat, who laments her parting with Bahamut in ancient times. Ignis and Evelyn eventually piece together the idea of unity, turning the statues towards the dragon head. If announces that all of the board stands against Tiamat, and the doorway opens.
Leaving the trial room behind, they enter a stone hallway with carvings on each side depicting Liberatus’ rise to heroism. Despite knowing the tale which depicts a human man, the party sees their race and gender as the protagonist instead. Ignis is shocked when he investigates further: the carvings appear to him as a proud red dragonborn, the man he wishes to be. Evelyn and If identify the figure as idealized versions of themselves, and are similarly taken by the portrait. Only Vera refuses to get closer to the carvings, and they all manage to pull away without being drawn into the wishful vision forever.
Through one more set of stone doors, the party finally enters the lost tomb of Liberatus. A single stone sarcophagus sits before a large statue… of a Drow. The disbelief and controversy at uncovering Liberatus’ true identity is cut short by the presence of another in the tomb. Mordus, the Half-Orc Necromancer responsible for the massacre at Falgorn, also is now in possession of Liberatus’ crown which sits at the base of the statue. Despite goading the party into asking his motives and master plan, Mordus is ultimately unable to complete his monologue after multiple interjections by If.
The Necromancer calls upon the twisted souls of Paladins Jameson and Kira Halton, Evelyn’s friends from Falgorn. This revelation briefly shocks her to inaction as they are used to create two large Crystal Golems that attack the party. Combat begins in earnest, where Mordus proves a formidable foe in martial and arcane arts equally. The Golems pose a greater threat however - their massive greatsword-wielding forms dealing massive damage that fells Vera and Gwenael at various points. Vera is revived near-death by Ignis, and Evelyn dismisses Gwenael from service to prevent him being hurt.
Despite drawing life energy from If and Father Isaac, Evelyn makes the final blow and kills Mordus’ mortal body… only for his soul to rise up and enter the many green crystal formations around the tomb. The Golems continue their assault, felling If during a pillar collapse. They are later revived by Vera, who sacrifices 5 of her 9 hitpoints to do so. Eventually, Evelyn uses Thunderous Smite on one of the crystals Mordus currently inhabited, the damage utterly and completely destroying his soul. The tomb now lies eerily silent as they lick their wounds and begin to explore this ancient place…
A rather long session this time around, running 1.5 hours past the end time to finish up Mordus’ two-stage battle - thanks everyone for sticking it out!
Unfortunately due to some Roll20 sheet mixups, a reminder that everyone remains at LEVEL 6 at the end of this session. If you are not already Level 6, please correct that on your character sheets and we’ll pick it up from there.