#You will always be remembered in our hearts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chimcess · 16 hours

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Unparalleled || jjk

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Other tags: Idol!Jungkook, Photographer!Reader Word Count: 6.6k+ Genre: One-shot, established relationship, PWP, long distance relationship AU, smut Synopsis: You had only met him once, a fleeting moment in the grand scheme of things, and the fact that he was on the other side of the hotel door felt surreal. Or, after being in a long-distance relationship for over a year, you and Jungkook are finally meeting up. Warnings: This is literally just porn, there’s a plot but it’s just filth, soft-dom JK, he calls reader “baby,” oral (m&f), d*ck piercing, tatted jk, jk wears glasses (the entire time), dirty talk, desperate sex, couch sex, they barely made it inside tbh, protected sex (wrap it up babes), multiple positions, light begging, light body worship, light praise, some teasing, reader cums on his face, multiple orgasms, nipple play, nipple sucking, some nipple biting, hair pulling, aftercare cuddling, sweet ending, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: I’m still getting used to writing smut, so I’m sorry if this is a bit awkward in some spots. Found this in my drafts, so I fixed it up a little bit and decided to post it. Thanks for reading.

Staring down at my fidgeting hands, I felt like the taxi was closing in on me, every tick of the clock amplifying the sense of claustrophobia. Twenty minutes felt like an eternity, dragging by as if time itself were taunting me. I stole another glance at my phone, re-reading Jungkook's last message like it was some sort of magic spell.

Kookie: 324

It was surreal to think he was right here in California, just a short drive away, no oceans or time zones separating us. My leg bounced nervously beneath the table, the excitement swirling in my stomach like butterflies in a frenzy. Each moment felt charged with anticipation, a thrilling energy that made my heart race. I quickly typed out a response, adding a heart emoji before sending my location. Jungkook always said sharing my location made him feel closer to me, bridging the gap between our worlds, even with his whirlwind schedule that rarely left room for anything else. Being one of the biggest pop stars had a way of pulling a guy in a million directions.

I couldn’t help but smile as I recalled our first meeting. It was right after the lockdown ended, during his band’s visit to California for a concert and the Grammys. I still vividly remembered standing by the snack table, nervously clutching a half-empty cup of soda, when our eyes met for the first time. There was an electric spark in that moment, something I hadn’t realized I’d been missing. His grin was infectious, his playful nature shining through, and my heart had skipped a beat at the sound of his laughter. It echoed in my mind like a melody I wanted to play on repeat.

A few months later, we had entered a long-distance relationship, navigating the challenges of his demanding career while trying to keep our connection alive. Late-night video calls, flirty texts, and the occasional surprise visit were our lifelines, but nothing could compare to the rush of being together in the same room. And now, the thought of finally seeing him in person again sent a rush of warmth through me, a blend of hope and nervous energy that was hard to contain.

As I waited, I replayed our conversations in my mind—each one a thread weaving our lives together despite the distance. We shared dreams, fears, and whispered secrets, laying the groundwork for something beautiful and profound. The thought of being in his presence again, of feeling his warmth and the comfort of his touch, made my heart race with excitement.

I glanced at the clock again, biting my lip in anticipation. Each minute stretched into hours, the seconds crawling by. Would he still feel the same? Would our chemistry translate into real life as effortlessly as it did through screens and messages? Doubts flitted through my mind, but I shook them off, focusing on the joy of the moment. Jungkook was just a heartbeat away, and soon, I would be in his arms. The very idea sent a shiver down my spine.

My phone buzzed, startling me out of my thoughts. I scrambled to open the notification, my heart racing. If Jungkook messaged, I had to respond quickly. Our conversations were a race against time, a way to squeeze moments of connection into his packed schedule. Phone calls were our only reliable lifeline, but the language barrier complicated things. We were both trying, though Jungkook's English was much better than my Korean.

Kookie: 나는 신나요

Giggling, I typed back a response.

Y/N: 나도

Kookie: Good job, 자기~

Nothing made Jungkook happier than seeing me try to improve my Korean. He always insisted it was adorable, his smile brightening every time I stumbled through a phrase. Yoongi was usually the more honest one, quick to point out my mispronunciations, but Jungkook wore that supportive boyfriend badge with pride, even if it meant telling me little white lies.

As the taxi pulled up to the hotel, my heart raced with a mix of excitement and anxiety. I thanked the driver, tipping generously as I stepped out into the warm night air. The moment I did, the fragrant scent of blooming jasmine wafted around me, mingling with the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore. I had only packed a small bag for our two-night stay, not knowing how much time we’d actually have together. Remembering that, I hurried up the steps, my footsteps echoing against the marble tiles.

The Sunset Hotel was unlike anything I’d imagined. I had envisioned a quiet, almost sleepy place, but instead, it was alive with activity. I couldn’t believe it was two in the morning; the lobby was bustling, a vibrant mix of laughter, clinking glasses, and the faint notes of live music drifting from the bar area. The energy crackled in the air like electricity, and I felt an exhilarating rush. Yet, amidst the lively atmosphere, a wave of inadequacy washed over me. Just a few moments ago, in the taxi, I had almost forgotten about Jungkook’s status as one of the biggest pop stars in the world, but now, beneath the sparkling chandelier that cast shimmering patterns across the polished floor, it was impossible to ignore.

As I walked through the brightly lit lobby, I caught glimpses of elegantly dressed guests, their conversations animated, their laughter ringing out like musical notes. I felt like a fish out of water, dressed in a casual sundress while they flaunted designer attire. Who would have thought my years in the service industry—working late nights and juggling demanding customers—would lead me here, about to meet someone who could afford such luxury? The thought both thrilled and terrified me.

At the front desk, the staff shot me quick, assessing looks. Their eyes were sharp, as if measuring my worth in this lavish setting. One of the hosts greeted me with a forced smile that felt far too wide for comfort. “Welcome to the Sunset Hotel! How can I assist you tonight?” Their voice dripped with that practiced hospitality, but I could sense a subtle skepticism beneath the surface.

“Um, I’m here to check in,” I replied, my voice steady despite the fluttering in my chest. I fished my phone out of my bag, ready to show them the reservation I’d made, but the host raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the computer screen as if evaluating my very presence.

“Name?” they asked, still wearing that unnaturally bright smile.

“Y/N,” I replied, and I held my breath as they typed it in. A brief moment of silence stretched between us, the bustling lobby fading into a distant murmur as I waited for their response.

“Ah, yes! We have you right here,” they said finally, their tone shifting to one of mild surprise. “You’re the other half of 324, correct?” They looked at me again, and I could feel the weight of their judgment, as if I were a puzzle they were trying to fit into a larger picture.

“Right,” I said, attempting to keep my tone light. “Should just be for the weekend.”

The host’s smile remained, but the glint in their eye suggested they were piecing together the details, perhaps even recognizing my connection to Jungkook. As they handed me the key card, I felt a rush of anxiety. What if they didn’t think I belonged here? What if Jungkook didn’t feel the same way about me once we were together?

I took the key, my fingers brushing against the cool surface, and turned to head toward the elevator. I was acutely aware of the looks I was receiving, a mix of curiosity and skepticism from both staff and guests alike. The air was thick with expectations, and I could almost hear the whispers in my mind, doubting whether I was truly worthy of this moment. But I pushed those thoughts aside. This was about Jungkook and me, our connection. And soon, I would be in his presence, feeling the warmth of his smile and the excitement of our reunion.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the elevator, the doors closing behind me like a protective barrier from the outside world. As the car ascended, I clutched my bag, heart racing with every passing floor. This was it. In just a few moments, I would be face-to-face with the boy who had ignited something within me, and no amount of uncertainty could overshadow that truth.

I shifted from foot to foot in the cramped elevator, the anticipation eating away at me like a swarm of butterflies taking flight in my stomach. Each second felt like an eternity, stretching my nerves thinner and thinner. I took out my phone, biting back a smile as I contemplated the moment. It was so surreal that I was just a few moments away from seeing Jungkook again after what felt like an eternity apart.

In a burst of excitement, I snapped a quick picture of the elevator doors opening, the sleek metallic finish reflecting the soft glow of the lobby lights. I sent it to Jungkook with a playful caption: *“Almost there!”* Watching the little blue ticks appear, I felt a rush of warmth, knowing he’d see it almost instantly.

Once inside the elevator, I pressed the button for the third floor with a mix of hope and trepidation. It only made sense that the 300s would be located on the third floor, right? Still, the absence of any signs directing me left me feeling a bit disoriented. The elevator hummed softly, its gentle movement barely easing the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind.

The walls felt a bit too close, almost as if they were closing in on me, but I took a deep breath, willing myself to relax. I replayed the memories of our conversations, the laughter we shared, and the longing I felt every time we parted. The excitement pulsing through me was intoxicating, a vivid contrast to the anxious tension coiling in my chest.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my hand, jolting me out of my reverie. I glanced down, my heart skipping a beat as I saw Jungkook's name flashing on the screen.

Kookie: I’m going to kiss you so much.

I couldn’t help but smile. I hoped kissing would be just the beginning of what would happen tonight. After a year of building up tension, I didn’t want to wait anymore. I wanted him.

Y/N: 또?

Kookie: I can’t think of it in English.

Rolling my eyes, I groaned. That was his way of avoiding a question. I knew he understood, but it amused me more than anything. Slowly, my nerves eased, and I felt more confident about seeing him, even if we were hiding away in a hotel I could never afford, lying on expensive sheets while the world outside spun with sharp eyes and curious gazes.

As the elevator dinged softly, signaling my arrival at the third floor, I felt a surge of adrenaline. The doors slid open smoothly, revealing a dimly lit hallway lined with plush carpeting and framed art pieces that whispered of elegance. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out, the plush carpet muffling my footsteps as I moved forward. The anticipation hung in the air like a charged atmosphere before a storm, and I could almost feel Jungkook’s presence drawing me closer.

I glanced at the room numbers, scanning for his. As I walked, I imagined what it would be like to finally be face-to-face with him. Would he look the same? Would that boyish grin still light up his face when he saw me? The thought sent my heart racing as I turned a corner, catching sight of the numbers I had been searching for.

Room 324. My breath caught in my throat, and for a fleeting moment, I hesitated, overwhelmed by a wave of nerves. What if things were different now? What if he had changed? But I quickly shook off the doubts; this was Jungkook, the boy I had laughed and shared secrets with, the one who had kept my heart fluttering even from a distance.

With a firm resolve, I approached the door, my heart pounding in rhythm with my steps. I held my breath, the moment stretching out like a taut string ready to snap. Would he answer? Would he be excited to see me? I could hardly contain the anticipation, my heart racing as I waited for that door to swing open. The air crackled with anticipation, buzzing with the weight of what was about to happen.

I raised my hand to knock, but before my knuckles could even touch the wood, the door swung open. And there he was—Jungkook.

He was everything I remembered: pitch-black hair tousled in a way that was both effortless and enticing, metal glinting in the light, thin, silver rimmed glasses, and a thin white t-shirt clinging to his muscular frame. It felt surreal, like stepping into a vivid dream, but this was no illusion. This was real, and it took my breath away.

"You," I whispered, the word slipping out like a gasp.

His dark eyes widened in surprise, delight flickering across his features. My heart raced as I watched him take me in, his expression shifting from uncertainty to something deeper, more intimate. Had he been waiting for this moment as much as I had? Was he just as happy as I felt?

All my doubts faded when that eyebrow, heavy with steel, raised in appreciation instead of scorn. He stepped into the hallway, and my heart pounded wildly, the space between us charged with an unspoken promise.

"You," he echoed, his voice low and husky as he took my hand in his, guiding me back into his room.

He kicked the door shut behind him. The air thickened as he moved closer, inches separating us, electric and intoxicating. I inhaled the scent of him—soap and laundry detergent—sending shivers down my spine. A soft whimper escaped my lips, desire pooling in my stomach like a spark waiting to ignite.

With an air of confidence, he advanced, and I leaned back, the weight of his presence drawing me in like gravity. I stopped when my back hit the couch, the world outside fading away as we paused, our breaths mingling in the charged silence. My fingers, betraying me, reached up to trace the row of piercings in his eyebrow, trailing down the line of his jaw to his lips. They were soft and rosy, a striking contrast to the rough stubble that scratched my palm.

In that moment, he darted his tongue out, the pointed tip brushing against my fingers, and I moaned softly, the sound echoing in the intimate space between us, igniting the fire that had been simmering beneath the surface.

And then he was on me.

He seized my hand, guiding it into the tousled mess of hair I had longed to touch. It was softer than I had imagined, and I lost myself in it. His mouth descended on mine, a fiery torrent of passion and urgency. My body responded instinctively, arching into him as our breaths mingled, his desire palpable against my stomach, the taste of longing lingering on his lips.

His palm traced a path down my arm, firm and possessive, sliding over my shoulder and back again. He tugged at the buttons of my cardigan, peeling the fabric away to reveal the inked skin beneath. I shivered at the roughness of his touch, a thrilling contrast to the softness of his kiss.

Breaking away, I pressed my mouth against the line of his jaw, trailing wet kisses toward the piercings in his ear, letting my tongue tease them as my breath washed hot against his skin.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you?” He whispered against my lips.

I panted, my fingers tangling tightly in his hair.

His hands tightened around my arms, pulling us together, the weight of our bodies colliding in a desperate embrace. “Every single day,” he swore, his voice rough yet melodic. He began a slow, deliberate exploration of my neck, the heat of his tongue tracing my pulse and making me shudder. “Every night that you called me, whispering sweet nothings in that voice. It drove me insane. I just wanted to hop on a plane and have you in my lap.”

“God, I wish you would have,” I gasped, feeling the bite of his teeth just below my collarbone, a thrilling blend of pain and pleasure that made me clench around nothing. “Why didn’t you?”

“You make me nervous,” he murmured, teasing aside the cup of my bra.

He took my nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking against the bud with reverence. I whined in pleasure, arching into him. Emboldened, he bit down.

“Self-conscious, huh?” I teased, winded and shaking from pleasure, even as my nails dug into his back, urging him closer. “I have a hard time believing that right now.”

He pulled back, capturing my face in his strong hands, kissing me fiercely as a low growl escaped him. “Believe it.”

We kissed with a fierce intensity that made me feel like I was on fire, the heat radiating off him, his glasses pressing against my face. He shifted to remove them, but I caught his wrists, holding him in place.

“Don’t,” I growled. “I like them.”

A primal sound erupted from his chest, desperate and raw. He lifted me effortlessly, settling me against the back of the couch, our bodies grinding together, my thighs aligning perfectly with the hard heat of his jeans. Each thrust sent a new wave of pleasure surging through me, my head falling back as I teetered on the brink of ecstasy, feeling weightless and electric, consumed by a desire that felt like it could set us both ablaze.

But he caught me. Just as I was about to tumble backward into dizzying, white-hot pleasure, his arms wrapped around me, firm and unyielding, pulling me against the solid expanse of his chest. My breath came in quick, frantic gasps, my heart racing like a wild animal as I clung to him, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, drawing him closer.

“Careful, pretty girl,” he breathed into my ear, a soft murmur that sent shivers racing down my spine. I grasped at his back, fingers digging into the taut muscles, anchoring myself to him, afraid of being swept away in the tide of desire threatening to pull me under.

My hands roamed from his back, gliding over his shoulders and down his arms as he stroked his fingertips along my thighs, mapping a path from my knees to my hips and back again. His skin was warm, electric under my touch, and I traced the intricate black curls of ink adorning his pale flesh—an abstract tapestry resolving into a lion on one arm and a lamb on the other.

“You’re beautiful,” I gasped, the words spilling out before I could stop them, but he silenced me with another heated kiss.

My fingers fumbled at the hem of his t-shirt, desperate to see what those curls of ink transformed into beneath the fabric. He shifted me closer, his grip on me unwavering, even as his hands momentarily released me to lift his arms above his head. Seizing the opportunity, I tugged at his shirt, peeling it away to reveal the canvas of his torso, the intricate lines of ink telling stories I longed to hear.

I barely had time to take in the intricate Sanskrit lines etched along his side and the lone kanji character hovering over his heart before he was lifting my shirt, pulling it over my head. For a heartbeat, I was enveloped in darkness, blinded by the fabric. My hands scrambled behind me, fumbling to unclasp my bra, and he kissed a heated trail along the bare skin of my shoulder as the straps slipped down my arms.

“I love this,” he murmured against my skin, his lips trailing softly across my collarbone, down my ribs, and back to my breast, igniting every nerve in my body. “And I love it all the more because of this.”

His tongue brushed over the small butterfly tattoo on my ribcage.

His fingers roamed lower, and when he pulled away, I let out a whimper of protest, longing for his touch. The light-headed sensation returned, reminding me just how long it had been since a man had touched me—since I’d felt filled.

I braced myself with one hand against the edge of the couch while the other tangled in his tousled hair, relishing its softness as it slipped through my fingers. His mouth found my stomach, his tongue dipping into my navel, tracing a tantalizing line toward my most sensitive spot. I gasped, an overwhelming hunger igniting deep within me. I had been yearning for this, for him, and the desperate need flooded my senses.

With deft fingers, he teased apart the button of my fly and drew down the zipper, revealing delicate black lace beneath. He licked and sucked his way to my hip, his hand lingering on my abdomen, thumb skirting under the edge of my underwear before descending lower, finally finding bare, glistening skin. When his fingers grazed my clit, pleasure surged through me, and I nearly cried out at its raw intensity.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping,” he cursed, his voice rough with desire as he buried his face against the joint of my hip and thigh.

“For you,” I groaned, my body arching instinctively. “I’ve been wet for months just thinking about you.”

A low growl escaped him, and in a blur of motion, he tore the hem of my jeans down, ripping them from my body until I was left in nothing but my panties. He pushed my naked thighs up and over his shoulders, positioning his head exactly where I craved him to be.

I struggled to contain my frantic breaths, fast and shallow, echoing my absolute need to feel his hands, his mouth, to be consumed by him entirely. He inhaled deeply, reverently, his nose brushing against the lace where my body met my thigh. The sensation sent shockwaves through me, rendering me breathless.

He wrapped one hand around my leg while the other snaked behind me, gripping my ass firmly, anchoring me as he pulled the soaked fabric aside, exposing my bare skin to his hungry gaze. His thumb descended onto my clit, and I gasped, waves of need crashing over me as pleasure radiated from his touch. I cried out, the sound escaping me like a prayer, my body arching toward him, desperate for more.

And then he kissed me, his mouth capturing my clit with an intensity that sent me spiraling.

The moans clawing their way from my chest were unrecognizable, a desperate symphony of need as I became a writhing mass of pure, unadulterated hunger. Unlatching himself, his thumb worked expertly at my clit, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through me. His tongue darted out, teasing the edges of my entrance before plunging inside, and I felt the pressure building, the storm that had been gathering finally reaching its peak until I exploded, my thighs clenching around his face as my body ignited into a searing inferno.

I teetered on the edge of ecstasy, and then I actually fell over, the world spiraling away.

When I regained awareness, I was sprawled across the back of the couch, my neck twisted awkwardly, the top of my head grazing the seat cushion. My arms draped limply above me while my thighs remained anchored to his shoulders. He gazed down at me, a mixture of curiosity and satisfaction etched across his face, his mouth glistening—a testament to our fervor.

With a wicked smirk, he wiped his mouth with his forearm, leaving me in my awkward state as he peeled my panties down my body, rendering me completely exposed and unable to rise. His finger glided along my opening, my body still thrumming with aftershocks from one of the most intense orgasms I’d ever experienced. When he dipped gently inside, I gasped.

“Is this what you want, Y/N? My hands inside you?”

I found myself ensnared in a whirlwind of emotions; I craved this intimacy with him more than anything, yet it felt like just a fragment of the whole picture. The sensation of his fingers deep within me was intoxicating, but beneath that, there lingered a yearning for more—more than just his hands. I ached for him—his body hovering over mine, the heat radiating from him as I traced the ink etched across his skin, my tongue teasing the silver piercings that adorned him.

“Yes. No. God, I want you,” I gasped, my voice a mixture of longing and desperation.

He raised a pierced eyebrow, still kneeling before me, his fingers buried deep inside me. “Want your cock.”

“You want this dick?” he asked, his tone both teasing and serious.

“Yes,” I panted, the word slipping out as both a plea and a command.

“Where?”

I knew exactly where I wanted him; the desire burned brightly within me. “Everywhere. My hand. My mouth. My pussy. Just… everywhere.”

A low growl escaped him, reverberating through my body, raw and hungry. But just as quickly, his fingers slipped away, leaving me aching and empty. He gripped my hips, securing me against him and the back of the couch, rising to slide my slick core against the hard line of his body. The urgency of his arousal pressed against me, igniting a fire within.

He leaned down, gathering me into his arms, kissing me with such fervor that I felt dizzy, his hardness grinding against me—a promise of what was to come.

I pushed him away gently, his expression shifting to one of confusion, but all I needed was a moment to slide off the couch and drop to my knees. He groaned as I ran my nose along the thick outline of him through his jeans, feeling him twitch in response to my teasing. With trembling hands, I tugged his pants and boxers down, revealing him—long, thick, and glistening with anticipation.

The chrome piercing at the tip caught the light, gleaming enticingly.

Looking up, I found him hovering above me, his body bared save for those damn glasses. His intense gaze locked onto mine, a silent plea reflected in his brown eyes. “Y/N,” I breathed, letting my warm breath wash over the tip of him. He groaned, his fingers tangling in my hair, urging me forward.

“God, I want to feel your mouth on me,” he implored, igniting a wild hunger within me.

I opened my mouth, eager and wet, my lips closing around the head of him, my tongue tracing the underside, the cool metal against warm flesh sending shivers down my spine.

“Y/N.”

I pulled away before I could take him too deep, trailing my mouth down his length, savoring every moment as I buried my nose into the soft hair at the base of him. He was practically whimpering, and I couldn’t resist the urge to pump him twice with my hand, the slickness gliding over him before I took him into my mouth, relaxing my throat to envelop him. Yet even with all my efforts, I couldn’t fit him completely, and I rubbed my thighs together, craving the moment he would finally fill me.

I moved my mouth up and down his length, achingly slow, feeling the tension coiling within him, his hips twitching, restrained. He wanted to thrust, to take control, but I held him back, guiding his movements while keeping him still. I could sense his legs trembling, teetering on the edge, so I pulled off, leaving him panting, his length throbbing, a testament to our shared desire.

Kissing the sharp bone of his hip, I pulled his pants the rest of the way down as he kicked off his shoes, the fabric sliding away like a whisper in the night. Just as I was about to toss the jeans aside, he stopped me, his voice low and husky. “Back pocket.”

Curiosity piqued, I glanced up at him through narrowed eyes and retrieved the little foil package from his back pocket. I noticed at least two more tucked away, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he had remarkable recovery time or if he was planning a very long weekend with me. Both notions sent a thrilling rush coursing through me

I held the condom up between two of my fingers. Jungkook snatched the package from me, tearing it open with a deft motion, rolling it over his cock from tip to base. He pressed his sheathed length against my hip, our bodies brushing together with a desperation that left me breathless.

“Turn,” he commanded, gently pushing at my shoulder. I obeyed, and his hands shoved me down, bending me from the waist, positioning my elbows on the back of the couch. When he was satisfied with my submission, he settled his hands firmly on my shoulder blades, a searing presence that felt as though it might melt through my skin, branding me with his touch.

His hands glided down my sides, over my ribs and hips, finally settling on my ass, rubbing it appreciatively. The edges of his fingers grazed my lips, parting them, and I jerked backward, feeling the heat of his cock resting against my back.

“Wider, baby,” he cooed, his fingers sliding over my trembling thighs. I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by the rush of sensation, and obeyed, spreading my legs for him. His knees bent between mine, the tip of his cock gliding tantalizingly from my clit to my entrance, brushing against me but not penetrating.

“Please, Jungkook,” I panted, desperation clawing at my throat as I felt myself teetering on the edge of begging.

Even he found himself pleading. “Please let me inside you,” he whispered, his length teasingly tracing my wet flesh, dipping slightly to part my lips but not filling the aching void within me.

“Yes,” I groaned, finally feeling the head of his cock pressing against my entrance, slipping into me inch by glorious inch. Nothing had ever felt this intense. “Fuck, yes,” I moaned, his grip hot and possessive at my hip while the other hand cradled the back of my neck, steadying me.

It was maddening not being able to move, even though all I wanted was to rock back and pull him deeper.

My body stretched as he pushed forward, achingly slow until he was fully seated within me, his hips flush against my backside. I gasped as he filled me completely. The sensation was electrifying, and I felt him rock back slightly before surging forward again, the combination of his length and the hot tip of metal against my walls making my eyes roll.

“Please,” I urged, my mantra of ‘yes’ and ‘fuck me’ spiraling from my lips as he finally began to thrust with abandon, our bodies locked in a passionate dance.

He tightened his grip on my hip, the other hand sliding to the middle of my back, pushing down. I could feel his movements becoming erratic, less steady—so close to coming inside me.

But I didn’t want it to end like this. Not after all this time.

“No, stop,” I breathed, the words barely escaping my lips before he froze, a pained sound erupting from him like a wounded animal.

“Please, Jesus, Y/N, you can’t—”

I glanced over my shoulder at him, squeezing him tightly inside me. The resulting moan from his throat sent a jolt of electricity through my body. The rejection and frustration etched across his face twisted my heart. “After all this time missing you,” I whispered, locking eyes with him, “I need to see you. I need to see you come.”

In an instant, he withdrew, turning my body roughly until I felt the couch pressing against me once more. Supporting my back with one hand, he parted my thighs with fierce urgency, stepping into them and plunging back inside me. I screamed, the sound echoing through the empty corners of the room.

His face was close to mine as he began to move again, quick, short thrusts finding a new rhythm. Our sweaty brows collided, the metal hoops of his piercings scratching my skin, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. His name spilled from my lips as we captured each other in another fiery kiss, a moment so intense I thought I could lose myself entirely in the swirl of our bodies, his ink swirling around us like dark tendrils of smoke.

His patience began to fray as he kissed me harder, his body pressing into mine with more urgency. I felt the fiery bloom of pleasure building again, hot and electric, and I craved him hard and fast—a deep connection stripped of all restraint.

He must have sensed my need, too, as he quickened his pace. “Hold on, baby,” he instructed, and I complied, wrapping my arms and legs around him tightly. I let him brace himself against the back of the couch as he drove into me, his pubic bone hitting my clit with each thrust, the metal piercing hitting deep within me making me mewl.

“I’m coming, Y/N. Fuck,” he moans, the raw desperation in his voice igniting something primal within me.

His face contorts in a beautiful, twisted expression of pleasure, each thrust deeper, harder, as if he’s trying to etch this moment into my very soul. The intensity of his words washes over me like a tidal wave, pulling me into a realm of oblivion. My body pulses in rhythm with his, a white-hot light flashing behind my closed eyes, merging with the vision of him—so fully present in my arms, lost in the sheer ecstasy we’ve created together.

As the world around us faded, time seemed to suspend, leaving only the two of us in a cocoon of warmth and intimacy. I could feel the weight of our shared moments pressing against us, every sensation amplified in the silence that enveloped the room. Slowly, we began to come back to ourselves, his body still pressed against mine, a gentle reminder of the electrifying connection we had just shared. The feeling of him lingering inside me sent shivers down my spine, and our breaths intertwined in a rhythm that was both calming and exhilarating.

We exchanged soft kisses, each one delicate and filled with unspoken promises, contrasting the raw passion that had ignited between us moments before. It was a tender kind of intimacy, one that held the power to ground us in a whirlwind of emotions.

After a moment, he pulled away, slipping out of me with a reluctance that made my heart ache just a little. The sudden emptiness was palpable, a gentle reminder of the closeness we had just experienced. Jungkook reached for the condom, his movements careful and deliberate, disposing of it in the wastebasket beside the couch. When he turned back to me, the soft glow of the room caught the contours of his face, illuminating him in a way that made him look almost ethereal.

“You’re really here,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the magic of the moment.

“I’m here,” I replied, unable to suppress the grin that broke across my face. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and this moment felt surreal.

Jungkook walked back over to the couch, his gaze roaming over my features as if he were trying to memorize every detail. “You look even better than I remembered,” he said, his smile soft and genuine, lighting up his eyes.

“And you look exhausted,” I teased, noticing the faint shadows under his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights and busy days.

He laughed, the sound brightening the room and melting away any remnants of anxiety I had carried with me. “It’s been a crazy week, but seeing you makes it all worth it.”

A smile broke across my face, the tension of the past months finally beginning to dissolve. For the first time since I had arrived, I took in my surroundings. The room felt both elegant and cozy, drenched in soft light, with tasteful decor that radiated warmth. A large bed dominated the space, its crisp white sheets looking impossibly inviting, and I found myself wishing we could make our way over there. It seemed far more comfortable than the couch.

“How was your flight?” Jungkook asked, bending down to plant a gentle kiss on my forehead, sending warmth flooding through me.

“Long,” I admitted. “But I couldn’t sleep. I was too excited.” The truth was, anticipation had been buzzing in my veins like electricity ever since I’d set foot on the plane.

He settled next to me on the couch, his hand finding mine, our fingers intertwining in a way that felt instinctive. “I’ve missed you so much,” he said, his thumb tracing small patterns on my skin, making my heart flutter in response.

“I’ve missed you too,” I replied, squeezing his hand tightly. “It feels like forever.”

We fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the city lights twinkling outside like a constellation trapped within a glass jar. The reality of being here with him began to sink in, settling deep in my bones. No more video calls with choppy connections or hurried texts exchanged amid the chaos of our lives—just us, flesh and blood, finally in the same place.

Breaking the quiet, Jungkook’s tone turned serious, slicing through the warmth that enveloped us. “How are you holding up? I know it’s been tough.”

I took a deep breath, weighing my response. “It’s been hard,” I admitted, the truth heavy on my tongue. “But knowing we’d have this, even just a couple of days, kept me going.”

He nodded, understanding etched on his face. “It’s the same for me. The craziness of the tour and the constant traveling—it’s all worth it knowing I get to see you.”

His words wrapped around me like a warm blanket on a cold night, soothing my weary soul. We talked for hours, drifting through a sea of conversation that felt both substantial and light, catching up on everything and nothing. His stories from the tour spilled out with infectious excitement, his eyes alight like fireflies in the dark. I shared my own experiences, and with every word, the distance between us began to melt away until it felt like the space of a single breath.

Eventually, exhaustion crept in like a gentle shadow, heavy yet comforting. Jungkook stood up and held out his hand, a playful glimmer in his eyes. “Come on,” he said, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Let’s move to the bed. It’s way more comfortable.”

I took his hand, allowing him to guide me across the room. The large bed loomed before us, inviting and cozy, the crisp white sheets beckoning like a sanctuary. As we settled into the plush comfort, I felt a wave of contentment wash over me, a feeling that we were finally exactly where we were meant to be. We lay side by side, fingers intertwined like threads in a tapestry, the world outside fading into a dull hum, the city’s chaos a distant memory.

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poohsources · 2 days

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🐝 * ― 𝑬𝑷𝑰𝑪: 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑳 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.

Troy Saga ❛ do what i say and you'll see them again. ❜ ❛ what do you live for? what do you try for? ❜ ❛ say no more, i know tat i'm ready. ❜ ❛ the blood on your hands is something you won't lose. ❜ ❛ is the price i pay endless pain? ❜ ❛ something feels off here, i see fire but there's no smoke. ❜ ❛ we should try to find a way no one ends up dead. ❜ ❛ why should we take when we could give? ❜ ❛ i see in your face, there's so much guilt inside your heart. ❜ ❛ have you forgotten the lessons i taught you? ❜

The Cyclops Saga ❛ it's almost too perfect, too god to be true. ❜ ❛ what gives you the right to deal a pain so deep? ❜ ❛ your life now is in my hand. ❜ ❛ remember them, we're the ones who carry on. ❜ ❛ what good would killing do when mercy is a skill more of this world could learn to use? ❜ ❛ i am your darkest moment. ❜ ❛ i don't know where i went wrong but i warned ya', and you failed the test. ❜ ❛ that's just like you, why should i be surprised? ❜ ❛ unlike you, every time someone dies i'm left to deal with the strain. ❜ ❛ i'll remind you i saw you as a friend but now we're done. ❜

The Ocean Saga ❛ at this rate, we won't make it out alive. ❜ ❛ please don't tell me you're about to do what i think you'll do. ❜ ❛ yes, but how much longer til your luck runs out? ❜ ❛ you rely on wit, and people die on it. ❜ ❛ you're like the brother i could never do without. ❜ ❛ and suddenly you doubt that i could figure this out? ❜ ❛ keep your friends close and your enemies closer, never really know who you can trust. ❜ ❛ 'cause the end always justifies the means. ❜ ❛ do you know who i am? ❜ ❛ you are the worst kind of good 'cause you're not even great. ❜

The Circe Saga ❛ whatever you need to say can wait some more. ❜ ❛ there's no length i wouldn't go if it was you i had to save. ❜ ❛ wouldn't you like a taste of the power? ❜ ❛ don't thank me friend, you very well may die. ❜ ❛ did you do something to them? ❜ ❛ if you make one wrong move, then you're done for. ❜ ❛ you and i are now evenly matched. ❜ ❛ you've given me no reason to bestow you with my trust. ❜ ❛ who's to say, with the mistakes i've made that they will be the last mistakes i ever make? ❜ ❛ this is the price we pay to love. ❜

The Underworld Saga ❛ all i hear are screams, every time i dare to close my eyes. ❜ ❛ i no longer dream, only nigtmares of those who've died. ❜ ❛ when does a man become a monster? ❜ ❛ now you tell us our effort's are for nothing? ❜ ❛ how has everything been turned against us? ❜ ❛ do i need to change? ❜ ❛ i'm the only one whose line i haven't crossed. ❜ ❛ what if i'm the problem that's been hiding all along? ❜ ❛ what if i've been far too kind to foes but a monster to ourselves? ❜ ❛ if i became the monster and threw that guilt away would that make us stronger? ❜

The Thunder Saga ❛ you wouldn't have spared me. i made a mistake like this, it almost cost my life. ❜ ❛ i've got a secret i can no longer keep. ❜ ❛ you know that we are the same. ❜ ❛ we must do what it takes to survive. ❜ ❛ tell me you did not know that would happen. ❜ ❛ if you want all the power, you must carry all the blame. ❜ ❛ how are we supposed to trust you now? ❜ ❛ how much longer must i suffer now? ❜ ❛ someone's gotta die today and you have got the final say. ❜ ❛ please don't make me do this. ❜

The Wisdom Saga ❛ you've made your worst mistake here. ❜ ❛ this cruel world doesn't give out presents just for being good. ❜ ❛ you're my friend, i couldn't ask for more. ❜ ❛ did you know you talk in your sleep? ❜ ❛ i'm what you want here, i'm what you need here. ❜ ❛ you don't know what i've gone through. ❜ ❛ i know your life's been hard, i'll stay inside your heart. ❜ ❛ life would be so much worse if you had died. ❜ ❛ you dare to defy me, to make me feel shame? ❜ ❛ no one beats me, no one wins my game. ❜

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #roleplay meme #lyric sentence starters #sentence starters #musical sentence starters #rph #type: meme

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pretzel-box · 2 days

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Hi Chea!! hope your doing well hun <3

Could I possibly req a human Sebastian x human reader scenario where they're on a first date of stargazing or going to an aquarium?? I think it would be a really cute idea <333 (Im a sucker for human seb stuff lmfao)

Remember to take breaks and stay hydrated <3

-💫

Tags: Human AU, Established Relationship, Fluffy and Wholesome Aquarium Date

Words: 1k

You had never imagined that your first date with Sebastian would be anything grand or extravagant. For all his charm and playful teasing, he had a softer side, one that revealed itself in quieter, more intimate moments. So when he suggested an aquarium date, it felt like the perfect reflection of that softer part of him, the part he only let you see.

The aquarium was bathed in soft, bluish light that mimicked the depths of the ocean. The moment you both stepped inside, the world outside seemed to fade away. The sound of water lapping gently against glass and the occasional bubbling noises from the tanks filled the space, creating a serene ambiance. Sebastian, dressed in his usual dark attire but looking unusually more relaxed than usual, gently took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours with a quiet smile.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, as if he didn’t want to disturb the peaceful atmosphere.

You nodded, feeling a giddy excitement at the thought of spending the day with him here. The two of you began walking through the dimly lit corridors of the aquarium, illuminated by the glow of the tanks. Everywhere you looked, you could see exotic marine life swimming gracefully through the water — schools of vibrant fish, jellyfish drifting like ethereal dancers, and the occasional sharp-toothed predator lurking in the background.

"Look at this one," Sebastian murmured, gently steering you toward a large tank filled with stingrays that glided like silent ghosts over the sandy bottom. His hand tightened around yours as he leaned in slightly, his face close to yours. "They’re incredible, aren’t they?"

You smiled, watching his profile as he stared into the tank, his eyes reflecting the blue of the water. "They really are."

It wasn’t just the beauty of the aquarium that captured your attention — it was the way Sebastian seemed to come alive in this environment. His usual teasing demeanor had softened, replaced by a quiet reverence for the creatures around him. He looked so at peace, standing beside you, and it was hard not to feel a little in awe of him.

As the two of you wandered further into the aquarium, you found yourself drawn to a large tunnel, the kind where the water surrounded you completely, creating the illusion that you were walking underwater. Sebastian led you inside, the walls of the tunnel curving overhead as sharks and manta rays swam lazily above you. The lighting was low, the only illumination coming from the tanks, casting a dim, dreamlike glow.

Without thinking, you leaned your head on Sebastian's shoulder. He didn’t move, didn’t tease or pull away like you half-expected. Instead, he let out a contented sigh and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you a little closer.

"You know," he began, his voice soft in the quiet space, "I’ve always liked aquariums. There’s something peaceful about watching the way everything moves… like they’re in their own world, separate from ours."

You looked up at him, surprised by his words. It was rare for Sebastian to open up about something personal. "I can see that," you said gently. "It’s calming."

He glanced down at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I’m glad I’m sharing it with you."

Warmth bloomed in your chest at his words, your heart skipping a beat. It was one thing to know that Sebastian cared for you, but hearing him express it so quietly, so intimately, made the moment feel even more special.

You continued through the tunnel, your pace slow and unhurried, neither of you in any rush to leave the peaceful serenity of the aquarium. At one point, you came to a stop in front of a particularly beautiful tank filled with colorful coral and bright, darting fish. Sebastian let out a small chuckle as one of the fish swam directly toward the glass, as if to inspect you both.

"Do you think they know we’re here?" he mused, his arm still resting around your waist.

You laughed softly. "Maybe. Or maybe they’re just curious."

His gaze flicked toward you, his expression warm and playful. "Just like me, then."

You rolled your eyes at his teasing tone but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. Sebastian had a way of making everything feel lighter, even in moments like these, where the quiet between you was thick with unspoken feelings.

Eventually, the two of you found yourselves at the final exhibit — a massive tank filled with various sea creatures, from sleek sharks to elegant turtles. The water shimmered in the dim light, casting rippling reflections on the floor and walls. It felt like stepping into another world entirely.

Sebastian paused, turning to face you fully. There was something different in his expression now, something more serious, more vulnerable. He reached up, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before his hand lingered against your cheek.

"I wanted today to be special," he said softly, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. "You deserve that."

Your breath hitched at the tenderness in his voice, the sincerity in his gaze. He had always been a bit of an enigma — playful one moment, distant the next — but in this moment, there was no pretense, no walls. It was just the two of you, standing together in the soft glow of the aquarium.

"It is special," you whispered, leaning into his touch. "Because I’m here with you."

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the only sound the gentle hum of the water around you. Then, slowly, Sebastian leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in the softest, sweetest kiss. It wasn’t rushed or demanding — it was gentle, full of warmth and emotion, like he was pouring all his unspoken feelings into that single, quiet moment.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his eyes stayed closed for a moment longer, as if he was savoring the closeness between you.

"I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy," he murmured, his voice barely audible, but the sincerity in his words was unmistakable.

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for him. "Me neither."

The rest of the world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of you, standing together beneath the shimmering water. As the fish swam lazily by and the soft light bathed you both, you knew that this was a moment you’d treasure forever — a perfect, quiet memory of your first date with Sebastian.

#sebastian solace #roblox pressure #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #pressure #sebastian solace fanfic #pressure x reader

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cristaq · 3 days

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“He died because your hatred for me outweighed any love you ever had for each other.”

He remembers that Makarov's voice was eerily calm for the situation at hand. He raised his gun and pointed it towards Price, who tried to crawl away on the glass roof of Oasis Hotel, clenching his teeth.

“Die knowing your love was weak. He died because of you. All of them did.” He cocks the hammer of his gun. “See you in hell, Captain Price.”

The memory of the moment is incredibly vivid. Price takes a swing of the whisky bottle, trying to chase it away.

“Soap died because of YOU!” Another swing of the bottle, but the voices get louder. “You never could have loved each other the way you hate me.” Maybe he is right. Maybe they should have stopped chasing. The world could have finished the war on its own. Why did they have to sacrifice everything?

“I heard you place the names of the dead ones on some shitty clock tower to honour them. Do you think anyone will ever stop to read his name? ‘John Soap MacTavish - Lived for nothing. Died for even less.’”

Price throws away the alcohol bottle and it shattters to pieces. He goes to his bathroom and takes a long look in the mirror. Makarov seems to stare back, even from death. “We are not that different, Captain Price.” He snaps and punches the mirror and he keeps at it, imagining it’s Makarov’s smug expression. Blood spills from his knuckles down on the floor. “Nothing stands between us and our goals. Nothing.”

The loud ringing of the phone dissipates the macabre thoughts and chases Makarov’s ghost away. Price picks up, his bloodied hands still shaking.

“Captain John Price? We are calling from the hospital. You are registered as John MacTavish’s contact.”

Price’s heart skips multiple beats.

“He is finally awake, sir…”

Hope blooms in his chest, replacing the hurt. Nothing will ever force him away from Soap. Nothing. He's always been his mission. He just wishes he realised it sooner.

#call of duty #cod #modern warfare #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #modern warfare iii #john soap mactavish #john price #soap cod #price cod #soapprice #pricesoap #soap x price #price x soap #captain john price #captain john soap mactavish #I am incapable of writing angst without a hopeful ending #I simply cant

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cheynovak · 2 days

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Sweetheart

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Y/N Female character

Summary: After years apart, Y/N and Jensen, high school sweethearts, unexpectedly reunite. As they reminisce about their past, Jensen expresses regret about their breakup, and the chemistry between them reignites. Despite the weight of Jensen's current relationship with Danneel, they share a tentative kiss that brings back fond memories of their first love.

Warnings: none

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated*

I sat at the dimly lit bar, nursing a glass of wine, absently watching the room filled with chatter and laughter. It had been a long week, and I needed a quiet moment to myself. At least that was the plan. But life had a funny way of messing up those plans.

Because across the room, sitting at a table with a group of familiar faces, was Jensen Ackles. My heart dropped into my stomach.

Jensen.

The memories hit me like a wave—late-night drives, stolen kisses under the stars, the reckless thrill of being young and in love. We were high school sweethearts once upon a time. Back when things were simple, before his acting career took off and our lives spun in completely different directions.

I thought I’d gotten over him. After all, it had been a lifetime. But there he was, laughing with his friends—Jared, Gen, and his wife, Danneel. All smiles, completely unaware that I was sitting there watching from a distance, fighting the urge to bolt out of the bar.

Just as I was about to slip out quietly, he turned, his eyes catching mine. His laughter stilled, replaced by a look of pure shock. Then, something softened in his expression—recognition, nostalgia, maybe even regret. Before I knew it, he was standing up and walking toward me.

“Y/N?”

His voice was the same as I remembered—deep, with that familiar Texas drawl that used to make my heart skip a beat.

“Hey, Jensen.” I tried to keep my voice steady, but seeing him up close after all these years made my chest tighten.

“Wow, it’s really you,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “It’s been forever.”

I nodded. “Yeah, it has.”

He glanced back at his table, where Danneel was eyeing us curiously, and then turned back to me. “Listen, we’ve got some room at our table. You should come join us. Catch up a bit?”

I hesitated. Sitting down with Jensen and his friends wasn’t exactly the way I envisioned spending my evening, but something about the look in his eyes made it impossible to say no.

“Sure,” I said, offering a small smile.

As we walked over, Danneel’s eyes flickered between us, but she smiled politely when I sat down. Jared gave me a big grin, and Gen waved. They were all friendly, but I could feel the tension in the air.

“So, Y/N, how do you know Jensen?” Jared asked, breaking the ice.

Jensen chuckled, glancing at me. “We went to high school together. We eh... Dated for a while, actually.”

There was a brief pause before Jared’s eyes widened. “No way. You’re that Y/N?”

I laughed softly. “Yeah, I guess I am.” looking at Danneel, who didn't seemed pleased with me being there.

Jensen and I were thrown back into the past. We started talking about the memories we had buried for years—the late-night drives, the reckless things we used to do when we were teenagers, and how Jensen once stole his dad’s car just so we could drive around town at 2 a.m.

“You were terrified we’d get caught,” Jensen teased, nudging me with his elbow. “But you still climbed in anyway.”

“I didn’t want to miss out on the fun,” I shot back. “Plus, you were always the smooth talker. I figured if we got pulled over, you’d charm your way out of it.”

Jared laughed. “Oh man, I can picture that. Jensen with that cheesy grin, trying to sweet-talk the cops.”

Gen leaned in, smiling. “And you stayed out all night?”

“Not all night,” I said, laughing. “But we drove around for a while, talking about everything and nothing.”

“Yeah, and you made me park by the lake...” Jensen added, his voice softening. My breath caught at that, the intensity of his gaze bringing back memories I thought I’d buried.

There was a time when he knew everything about me and I never miss one of his games, no matter the sport, how he’d always catch my eye from the field or the court and flash that smile, just for me.

Sitting there with Jensen, surrounded by his friends, I couldn’t help but feel like I was being transported back in time. The weight of years between us was starting to slip away with every memory that bubbled up between us.

Jensen leaned forward, his eyes locked on mine as if we were the only two people in the room. “Do you remember when you used to just sit in your room, lost in one of those books, and I’d be trying to get your attention?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the memory as clear as day. “Oh God, you mean when you’d literally cling to my legs like some sort of needy puppy?”

He grinned sheepishly. “Hey, I wasn’t that bad.”

I shot him a teasing look. “Jensen, you would lie on the bed, wrap your arms around my knees, and just hold on while I tried to read. I couldn’t even walk, and all you’d do was look up at me, waiting for me to give in.”

Jared snorted into his drink, clearly amused by the image of a younger Jensen desperately vying for attention.

“I had to fight for your attention,” Jensen said, a twinkle in his eyes. “But honestly? I secretly loved it when you’d ignore me and just keep reading. You always looked so peaceful, completely lost in whatever world you were in.”

My smile softened, a warmth blooming in my chest. Those quiet moments, when it was just the two of us, had been some of my favorites. No words, no pressure—just the comfort of being with each other.

“Then there were the not-so-quiet moments,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “Like that time during one of your soccer games, when you got hurt…”

“Oh man,” Jensen groaned, already knowing where I was headed.

Gen leaned forward, clearly invested in the story. “What happened?”

“He got tackled pretty hard during a game,” I said, recalling the scene like it was yesterday. “The ref didn’t call anything, and I lost it. I yelled at him from the bleachers so loudly, everyone turned to look.”

Jensen laughed, shaking his head. “You were fuming. I swear, I’ve never seen you that angry before.”

“I was ready to throw hands with that referee,” I said, my voice lighter than I felt as the memory surged. “No one was going to hurt you on my watch.”

Danneel, who had been quietly sipping her drink, quirked a brow at that, her smile tightening ever so slightly. I ignored the tension radiating from her side of the table, trying to focus on the flood of old memories that were coming back faster than I could process. Maybe it was time to stop this trip down memory lane, but Jensen thought different.

“And then there was that trip to my family’s lake house,” Jensen said suddenly, his voice dipping into a playful tone. His eyes glinted with mischief, and I knew exactly what story he was about to bring up. “Remember how my dad almost caught us?”

“Oh God,” I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “How could I forget? You made me jump out of a window, Jensen.”

Jared nearly choked on his drink. “Wait, what?”

Jensen was grinning like an idiot now, clearly relishing in the memory. “After a school year of dating each other, my family invited her along for the summer."

I added: "We were supposed to be in separate rooms, you know—strict family rules. That was my moms only rule."

"But I snuck Y/N into my room late that night. We were just talking, hanging out. Nothing crazy.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, just talking—until we heard your dad walking down the hall. You panicked and threw me out of the window.”

Jensen burst out laughing. “You didn’t even hesitate! I told you to jump, and you were out of there in seconds.”

“You gave me no choice! Your dad knocked on the door, and I thought for sure we were caught,” I said, laughing at the absurdity of it now. “I ended up hiding under the deck in my pajamas, freezing, while you played it cool upstairs like nothing happened.”

“I’m impressed,” Gen said, grinning. “That’s some serious stealth.”

“I wasn’t feeling too stealthy at the time,” I admitted, still laughing. “But we made it out alive, somehow.”

Jensen shook his head, the smile lingering on his lips. “That weekend was one of the best I’ve ever had, though. We stayed up late, talked about everything—your dreams, my acting, what the future might look like. You made me feel like I could do anything.”

I felt a lump form in my throat at his words. I remembered those nights vividly, especially one night, the night I lost my virginity to Jensen. He made sure it was perfect. And I was pretty sure that night was on his mind right now, while he was smirking looking at his hands on the table.

Besides a romantic he was also full of ambition back then, and I was convinced he’d make it big. I had always believed in him, even when the world seemed like it was asking for too much.

There was a moment where it felt like everything around us had faded, like the rest of the table didn’t exist. Just me and Jensen, sitting in the memories of a time when we were so young and so sure of each other.

But then, just as quickly, the weight of the present came crashing back in.

Danneel shifted beside him, her eyes on me, her smile no longer reaching her eyes. “So, why did it end?” she asked, her voice soft but carrying an edge. “If everything was so perfect back then?”

The question hung in the air, cutting through the laughter like a knife.

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like I couldn’t breathe. The reality of it all—the years apart, the heartbreak, the different lives we’d built—crashed down on me.

Jensen was looking at me, his expression unreadable. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t relive that part of the story. The part where we broke up, where his career took him away, where I was left behind to figure out how to move on without him.

I swallowed hard, looking down at my glass. “Sometimes life just takes you in different directions,” I said quietly, not daring to meet her eyes. “Jensen’s acting career was taking off, and I… I had my own path to follow. We couldn’t make it work with the distance.”

It was a truth that still stung, even after all this time. I’d always been proud of him, but it didn’t make it any easier when our worlds no longer fit together.

Jensen looked like he wanted to say something, but I couldn’t stay. Not with Danneel’s question lingering in the air, not with the way my heart was pounding in my chest.

I stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. “I should really get going,” I said, forcing a smile, my voice tight. “It’s getting late.”

Jensen reached out as if he wanted to stop me, but he hesitated. “Y/N…”

“I’m glad we got to catch up,” I said quickly, trying to keep my voice steady. “It was nice seeing you, Jensen. All of you.”

Before anyone could say anything else, I turned and walked out, my heart pounding in my chest. The cool night air hit me as I stepped outside, but it did nothing to ease the storm swirling inside of me.

Some memories were just too heavy to carry, even when they were wrapped in laughter.

Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked out of the bar, the cool night air hitting my face as I stepped outside. My chest felt tight, and I didn’t stop walking until I was far enough away that I could breathe again.

Some things were better left in the past. Even if the heart had a way of clinging to them.

As I stepped out into the cool night air, my heart raced. I thought I could escape the weight of the past, but as I made my way down the sidewalk, I heard the familiar sound of footsteps rushing after me.

“Y/N!” Jensen called, his voice full of urgency. I paused, glancing over my shoulder to see him closing the distance between us, concern etched on his face. He caught up to me, gently grabbing my arm to stop me.

“Hey, wait,” he said, his breath coming a bit heavier. The warmth of his hand on my arm sent a shiver through me.

I turned to face him, my chest tightening as I looked into his deep green eyes. “What is it, Jensen?”

"Don't leave like that please." I shuffled nervously.

His brow furrowed slightly as he studied my face. “You really haven’t changed, have you?” I couldn’t help but smile at that, he was trying to stall. “Neither have you.”

He tilted his head, an amused grin forming on his lips. “Have you ever even cut your hair differently?” I asked.

Instinctively, my hand moved to his hair, brushing my fingers through the familiar softness. The moment hung in the air between us, electric and charged with memories. But as I realized what I had done, my breath caught in my throat.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, pulling my hand back, embarrassment flooding my cheeks.

But he held my hand in place, bringing it back to his side, fingers intertwined. “You clearly missed 15 years of my career,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

I smiled, shaking my head. “Oh no, I really liked Supernatural.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “You watched?”

I looked down, a shy smile creeping onto my face. “I promised you I’d support you. Always.”

His thumb brushed over my cheek, the gentle touch sending a spark through me. His eyes locked on my lips. “It would be wrong if I want to kiss you, right?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

I swallowed hard, my heart racing at the thought. “Yeah, right…”

But deep down, my heart was screaming the opposite. It wanted to feel his perfect lips against mine again, to bridge the gap that had formed between us over the years. All the memories of stolen kisses, laughter, and the way he used to look at me flooded back, overwhelming me.

“I shouldn’t have let you go all those years ago,” he said suddenly, the weight of his words heavy in the cool night air breaking the chain of thoughts. “I thought I could handle it, but I never realized how much I’d miss you.”

My breath caught at the honesty in his eyes, the raw vulnerability that made my heart ache. “Jensen…”

“I know... and I don’t want to put you on the spot,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But seeing you tonight brought back... rverything, and I can’t pretend it doesn’t matter.”

I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes, a mix of happiness and longing. “You matter, Jensen. You always have.”

He stepped closer, his breath mingling with the cool night air. “Then why did we let it slip away?” His voice was thick with emotion, and I could see the conflict in his eyes.

“Because life happened,” I replied softly, my voice shaking. “We both got caught up in our dreams and forgot how to hold on to each other.”

“But we’re here now,” he said, a glimmer of hope in his gaze. “Can’t we just…?”

The warmth of his hand still holding mine, the softness of his touch—it felt so right. Everything in me wanted to say yes, to lean in and kiss him and pretend that nothing had ever changed. But reality loomed like a shadow, reminding me of all that had passed between us.

“I don’t know,” I whispered, my heart torn between what I wanted and what I thought was right.

He stepped even closer, tilting my chin up with his fingers, forcing me to meet his gaze. “ I don’t want to lose you again. I can’t.”

The sincerity in his eyes made my heart swell, but the fear of what that meant for us, after all this time, pulled me back. I could feel the tension between us thickening, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

And for a brief moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like to kiss him again. To feel his lips against mine, to reclaim that spark that had never truly gone away.

But then I remembered Danneel’s earlier words, the weight of their relationship looming like a cloud over us. It felt wrong, messy, and yet—

“Maybe you’re just drunk,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood, hoping it would ease the tension hanging between us.

“No,” he said, shaking his head, his gaze never leaving mine. “I’ve never been more sober in my life.”

The seriousness in his voice sent a rush of warmth through me, and before I knew it, he moved in closer, his intentions clear. There was an unspoken understanding in the air—he was giving me a chance to back out. But I didn’t want to back out. I couldn’t.

As he leaned in, I saw the same teenage boy I had fallen for all those years ago. The one who had clung to my legs while I read, the one who had made me laugh until my sides hurt, the one who had kissed me beneath the stars and took my breath away. That sweet, sweet young man who had always made me feel like I was his whole world.

His freckles were lighter now, but his eyes still shone with that same vibrant light that had captivated me back then. It was like he had somehow retained every part of himself that I had loved. And suddenly, the chaos of our lives faded into the background. All that mattered was the two of us standing there in the night, the world around us falling silent.

When his lips brushed over mine, I closed my eyes, surrendering to the moment. The warmth of his touch ignited something deep within me, pulling me back to that summer by the lake, when everything felt perfect and right. I could almost hear the sound of the water lapping at the shore, feel the gentle breeze on my skin.

It was there, in that sacred space between us, that I remembered the first time he said, “I love you.” It was shy, a whisper barely carried by the wind, but it was everything I had ever wanted to hear. That moment was etched in my heart, and now, with his lips on mine again, it felt like we were reclaiming it.

The kiss deepened, slow and tentative at first, as if we were both afraid of breaking the spell we were under. I felt my heart racing, every inch of my skin alive with sensation. He tasted like the memories of my youth—sweet, familiar, and filled with promise.

As we pulled away slightly, our foreheads resting against each other, I could see the questions dancing in his eyes, the uncertainty mingling with hope.

As we stood there, the worries of our past and the complexities of our present became distant echoes.

And all I could think of was maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other again.

Jared walked outside, his voice made me almost jump, but Jensen still held me. "Jensen, we're leaving, man."

Jensen turned his face but kept looking at me.

"I'll be right there."

I let go of him, both our eyes filled with tears either of joy that we found each other again, or out of spite we had to let go again.

"Bye." I whispered.

"Bye."

Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Tag list:-> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read! If anyone feels like you're tagged too much, also let me know please. :)

@kr804573 @nancymcl @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378

@hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @deans-baby-momma @soab1967

@livingdeadblondequeen @ladysparkles78 @yvonneeeee @whimsyfinny

#jensen ackles #fanfic #x reader #jensen fucking ackles #fluff #spn #dean winchester #soldier boy #the boys #beau arlen #jensen ackles singing #jensenedit #request

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caitlinsgirl · 2 days

Note

Reader drunk texting caitlin

Summary: caitlin and the narrator are childhood friends. narrator joins coworkers on a night out despite not wanting to go.

Word count: 820ish

author's note: something quick i wrote while wasting time at work <3 thank you sm for requesting it's very inspiring

tags: alcohol, clubs, taylor swift

A Rose by Any Other Name is a Scandal

Another night, another boring night, another lame night surrounded by folks who could not care less about me. The loud speakers of the club project a bass that shake my bones. My third martini glass sits heavy in my hand as I stare into space. I wish to be anywhere but here. The high-pitched blabbering of the people from my work cut through the noise, but it still sounds like a lump of gibberish to me. I would rather spend my night with anyone but them. Well, maybe not anyone…

How easy it is to agree to plans with people who are not remotely interested in anything I have to say in an important setting. As if showing up to the club in a pretty dress and getting hammered in front of these people would make them appreciate my contribution more when the workweek starts again on Monday. At least God has given me the brief relief that they appear more engrossed with whatever nonsense the other has to say, rather than remembering I tagged along and sit just a few feet away.

I down the rest of my drink and get up from my seat to approach the bar. I’m sure another one would make this night a little easier for me to stomach. Just one more. The bartender notices me and his mouth moves, as if asking me a question. The noise makes it impossible for me to make out what his words are, but I nod in hopes that he is asking to make me another drink.

heyyy hows it going so far?

My phone lights up with a message from one of my dearest girls, I mean friends, I mean she is a friend who is a girl… nothing inaccurate about that. On the speakers, the song ended and a familiar tune starts up loud as ever: It feels like a perfect night, to dress up like hipsters… Seriously. It's like the world is taunting me.

they're playing ur song at this club

My fourth drink in front of me appeared as if it was out of thin air. The retreating bartender appears like a vanishing magician from this angle. His latest act: fueling my future hangover. My stomach buzzes with butterflies and alcohol as I stare at her contact name on my phone: Catilin Elizabeth.

She had asked me to hang out with her earlier in the week, only it was after I had already made plans with these coworkers. I felt obligated to stick to my original commitment, despite heavily disliking my coworkers and greatly liking…

what song?

I always felt I was too obvious around her. The media has recognized me as a friend who is constantly around Caitlin, the ordinary girl who attends every home game, and often attends away games. To her, the gleam in my eye registers as nothing more than the look of one of her oldest friends. To the observant fans on the internet, they recognize the almost life-long longing that I have yet to admit to myself. It started when we both bonded over our shared love for Taylor Swift as young girls. Over a decade, I sent her links and lyrics of my favorite songs that reminded me of her. My excuse: she likes these songs, too.

wise men once said wild winds r death to teh candle

a rose by any otherrrr name is a scandal

My fingers poured out the words from the latest song that has been on my mind. It feels impossible to admit the way I feel, not to her, not to myself. Caitlin goes through enough scrutiny in the media. If I said what was in my heart out loud, it could end really, really, really badly. Earth-shatteringly horrible. If we had a falling out and the world found out one of her life-long friends stopped showing up to her games, they would run with the worst assumptions to paint her in an evil light, like they always have.

theres no way theyre playing that one in the club rn 🤣

I started giggling into my cup at the sight of her message, like a crazy woman standing on the corner of a street. The alcohol causes my vision to darken in this already-dim establishment. Electricity runs up and down my stomach and I cannot tell if it is from the martinis or from her.

shes the albatrossssss 🦅she is here to destroy you

okay, do u want me to pick u up now?

I looked back at my coworkers, who disappeared into non-existence. Are they seriously bar hopping, without even asking me if I wanted to tag along? If I had a ride? If I felt okay being left alone here?

they lef tme alone here:(

fucking morons

i'm on my way

Neither of us can admit the feelings in our hearts to ourselves, let alone to each other. But I cherish the quiet understanding intertwined in her knee-jerk reaction to drop everything and come save me.

thank u my pretty lady

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark fanfic #caitlin clark fic #wnba x reader #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark fluff #caitlin clark imagine #wnba imagine #wlw #mine:fic #liartogirls

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adimouze · 10 hours

Note

For u oomfie hand in rotten hand (it keeps growing I want more soft maxiel I will write it for all our needs)

He doesn't take the jet there. He thought about it. Doesn't want people - his people even, to know. To think they can stop him. He doesn't even text Daniel.

They talked before his flight, although Daniel doesn't know Max was leaving. Was landing. Max remembers saying something about sim work, words about the race half swallowed in embarrassment, in excitement. He remembers the soft smile - indulgent even, that Daniel kept throughout. You’ll win, he said and Max doesn't want to correct him.

He would. Could have. Still can – but Max does not want to. Or rather, he thinks – he wants, for himself, for the first time.

He wonders if Daniel has found peace now. Does it have Max’s name on it? Does it make a place for him? Max rubs sweaty palms into his jeans. Refuses the offer from the stewardess to have more to drink. Screws the cap on further against his brow just in case someone recognises him even when they boarded at 2am.

The gin doesn't taste as nice as in his own jet. He sweats more. Sleeps through a guy snoring even with the space between them in first class. He sleeps an hour, two. There are eighteen more to go.

Max watches the plane travel across the world on the screen instead. His heart doesn't stutter when it glances near Abu Dhabi. It flutters when they cross Hong Kong, aches as they cross the ocean and the Australian coast appears in the corner like the DVD logo of Max's childhood.

Words spill behind his tongue. Daniel’s name too. He rehearses what he wants to say. Mimes the words as the figure plane follows the dotted line. It doesn't get easier.

He turns airplane mode off when they land. It blows up with notifications. GP, Rupert – Christian emailed a schedule. He starts the sim session tomorrow. Today, in fact.

Max may already be late. He scrolls past them. Marks them muted. Crosses into Australian land and hot tarmac. It doesn't quite smell like the Melbourne track.

Daniel sent him memes in the last few hours. Before he started feeding the animals. Max has learnt and memorised their names. Even Maximilian the calf. It still makes Daniel snort when he says it - says the baby cow stares at him as much as Max does. Hence the name, Maxy.

Asks Max ten times if he gets the joke - Max, Max Emilian, Maximilian. Max nods, laughs anyway, as it makes Daniel laugh harder. Tells him his joke is silly, and Daniel replies he spent an hour thinking of the name thank you Max. Rambles about how he thought about it as baby cow not Max was being licked by his mother, calf hair sticking up everywhere just like my Max after a race.

Daniel doesn’t say anything when Max chokes on his water, when he breathes too loud. Chokes on Daniel’s name. Tries to find a joke about his hair and the baby calf. Doesn’t come up with one. Daniel smiles, pleased thing Max screenshots with clumsy fingers. It’s blurry. Max sets it as Daniel’s profile picture everywhere. Sends it to Victoria unprompted and gets a heart and a thumbs up from her.

Sends it to team redline. Mutes Luke’s dms for an hour or two after.

Max thinks he stares morethan Maximillian the baby calf anyway. Loves Daniel more than the baby cow. Wants the way Daniel smiles softly at it, the cooing in his voice making Max’s stomach tighten with need. The baby cow doesn't realise how lucky it is, to get Daniel’s affection so freely. Max will be there soon.

Max wants to beg Daniel to give it to him too.

Two more memes. He likes them all, even if Lando sent them to him two weeks ago, when they first appeared on TikTok. It’s cute. Max can't wait to watch them and hear Daniel laugh as he does so - always.

Daniel also keeps sending this guy - burly, hairy - working on a farm. Max always gnaws at his lips so he doesn't ask Daniel if he would like Max that way. Would Daniel be ok if Max burns under the sun instead, that his hair is blonde everywhere and will not be as dark as the TikTok man’s. He can get burly, he thinks — but Daniel will need to let him race with the team online, in exchange.

He knows there is a spare room, in Daniel's farmhouse. Max thinks he can fix his set up there. Can buy a new one. He already knows the ridiculous shipping fees, and has it on back order anyway. Can get Daniel to play with him maybe. He knows Daniel will say yes. Even if Daniel sucks at FIFA. Max tells him whenever he can.

My oomfie here writes the best fics btw!!!! This healed me!!!!!

#daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #maxiel #f1

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mcflymemes · 2 days

Text

PROMPTS FROM SONGS ON MY PLAYLIST * assorted lines from random songs, adjust as necessary

i can't forget this evening, or your face as you were leaving.

you always smile, but in your eyes your sorrow shows.

the sun is going down. it's getting dark.

you look bewildered.

i can't give anymore.

you know i want to do it again.

better things will come our way.

you were always there for me.

i know it's not mine, but i'll see if i can use it.

i see the light in your window.

you know i tried, and i'm sorry.

kiss me if you mean all the things that you say.

one night can make a difference.

please don't leave me hanging.

it's just heartbreaking.

i've got such a long way to go.

i don't want to do your dirty work.

i want you to know that i'm happy for you.

i should have known that it would let me down.

i used to dream about this town.

it's such a shame about it.

there's always magic in the air.

they're dead wrong. i know they are.

nobody's supposed to be here.

tell me what's wrong.

put your arms around me, baby.

show me where you've been.

it may sound funny, but i've come to get my money back.

i know you like what you see.

there is no way you can deny it.

you were always sure of yourself.

who's to blame?

i've had enough of walking from place to place.

you're not what we're looking for.

honestly, i'm not trying to be anybody but me.

can i see you later?

i kinda hope we get stuck.

do you think anybody's actually gonna dance to this?

the answers you seek will never be found at home.

i don't want to leave the comfort of this place.

let's make our escape.

i feel like i'm alive for the very first time.

it's been a while.

i'm not sure why i called.

i was thinking maybe later on we could get together for a while.

it's been such a long time and i really do miss your smile.

it really doesn't matter much to me.

i won't ask for promises, so you don't have to lie.

watch out. you might get what you're after.

we're in for nasty weather.

here's your ticket.

you might need a raincoat.

you can go. sleep at home tonight.

who are you?

i really want to know.

god, there's got to be another way.

it's the one good thing that i've got.

i would really, really love to stick around.

i think there's something you should know.

you made a lot of mistakes.

hey, it happens to us all.

you can do what you think is impossible.

don't close your eyes.

i want your love.

don't look back.

it's only been a week or two.

sooner or later, you'll come rolling back to me.

it gets so lonely here inside my head.

what's wrong with right here on the counter?

i had to stop for the night.

please bring me my wine.

last thing i remember, i was running for the door.

you can check out any time you like but you can never leave.

i'm just in awe of what's in front of me.

i'm sipping wine in a robe.

i look too good to be alone.

every word that i say is coming straight from the heart.

#rp meme #mcflymemes #rp memes #rp prompt #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox meme #inbox prompt #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters

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agent99galanzo · 2 days

Text

Please Hear My Plea

Summary: In every lifetime, Natasha remembers you, but you must rediscover her before the curse begins anew.

---

In a quiet village under the golden glow of autumn, Natasha Romanoff sat on a weathered bench, watching as people moved through the bustling market. Despite the ordinary sights, her heart raced, an instinctual recognition pulling her attention to a familiar face in the crowd.

You. In this lifetime, you were an artist, painting the world with vibrant strokes. But you had no memory of her; to you, Natasha was just a stranger.

With each encounter, the ache grew deeper. She felt the weight of the centuries pressing down on her. In every life, they had found each other, only to be separated by the cruel hand of fate. Natasha had lived through it all, while you remained blissfully unaware of your shared history.

As the days passed, Natasha followed you, drawn to the spark in your eyes. You were passionate and carefree, and each smile felt like a flicker of light in her long, dark existence. She longed to reach out, to tell you everything, but the curse held her back—if she revealed herself too soon, it would only drive you away.

One evening, under a canopy of stars, she found the courage to approach you. “Your paintings are stunning,” she said, her voice steady yet warm.

You looked up, surprise evident in your eyes. “Thank you! I’m just trying to capture the world as I see it.”

Natasha smiled, a bittersweet pang in her chest. “You have a gift.”

Weeks turned into months, and a friendship blossomed between you. Natasha relished every moment, cherishing the time you spent together, even as she felt the impending darkness looming. The curse would strike again, and she had to find a way to break the cycle before it was too late.

One night, while sharing stories over a candlelit dinner, you asked, “Do you believe in fate?”

Natasha hesitated, her mind racing with memories of past lives. “I believe in connections that go beyond time.”

You looked thoughtful. “That sounds poetic. I think we’re all just trying to find our place in the universe.”

Her heart swelled at your words. You were so close to the truth, yet so far from knowing her. As the seasons changed, Natasha felt the familiar dread creeping in, a sense of urgency clawing at her.

When the inevitable happened—an accident, a sudden turn of fate—Natasha was there, but this time, she couldn’t save you. She watched as life faded from your eyes, a gut-wrenching pain ripping through her soul.

“No!” she screamed, desperation tearing at her. “Not again!”

---

In the aftermath, Natasha fell into despair. Time flowed endlessly, and she felt trapped in a loop of grief. But each time, she felt the flicker of hope. You would be reborn, and she would find you again.

---

In the next life, you were a writer, lost in the pages of your own imagination. Natasha recognized you immediately, but again, you didn’t remember her. Each lifetime began anew, and the curse remained unbroken. She would always seek you out, knowing that rediscovery was her only chance to save you.

As you walked the streets of the bustling city, Natasha felt the familiar pull. She approached you cautiously, “Your words have a way of capturing the heart.”

You looked up, intrigued. “Thank you! I try to weave truth into my stories.”

With every interaction, Natasha fought against the curse that bound you. She searched for ways to break it, delving into ancient texts and seeking wisdom from those who had walked the earth before her.

But time wore on, and each reunion ended the same way—too brief, too painful. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t change the outcome.

---

Finally, after centuries of heartbreak, Natasha found herself at a crossroads. With each new life, she felt more desperate to keep you safe, but the curse always reset their connection.

“Tell me how to break this,” she pleaded to an ancient seer. “I can’t keep losing her!”

“Only love can transcend the cycle,” the seer warned. “But both must remember.”

---

In the next lifetime, you were a dancer, vibrant and full of life. Natasha watched from the shadows, her heart heavy with longing. She knew she needed to awaken your memories, to remind you of the love that had endured through countless ages.

One evening, as you danced under the stars, Natasha stepped forward, determination igniting her spirit. “You’re mesmerizing,” she said, her voice low and filled with emotion.

You paused, your eyes locking onto hers. “Who are you?”

“Someone who has loved you through time,” Natasha replied, her heart pounding. “Please, trust me.”

As you looked into her eyes, something flickered—an echo of recognition. But just as quickly, the moment slipped away, and you turned, leaving her once more.

---

Each time, Natasha faced the heartbreak with renewed resolve. She wouldn’t stop searching for you, wouldn’t stop trying to break the cycle. Even as the curse twisted their fates, she held onto the hope that one day, you would remember.

Through every lifetime, she would find you again, and perhaps one day, you would understand the depth of her love. No matter how long it took, Natasha would fight against fate, determined to end the cycle of loss.

Because love, she believed, could conquer all—even the bonds of eternity.

---

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #marvel #soft natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #natasha romanov x reader

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dootznbootz · 3 days

Note

As someone who is also really uncomfortable with the Zeus/Odysseus art trend, I completely understand where your coming from!

People’s treatment of Odysseus’s assaults in general makes me really upset. Just the other day I saw a comment on a post saying that “Odysseus wasn’t loyal to his wife yet expects her to be loyal to him” and not once in the replies did I see someone mention that he was literally assaulted. It’s absolutely gross and makes me hesitant to go deeper into the fandom.

I remember being so frustrated when the snippets of “There are Other Ways” came out because so many people were making Hamilton jokes and talking about how he always talks about his wife yet cheated. When in the song it was so clear he was being coerced which is yknow, not a form of consent. I couldn’t even listen to it because it made me so uncomfortable, and even now with the full version out the fandoms reaction to it overall have soured me to it. Which sucks, because I do think it’s a great song.

Also I don’t even think Epic completely erases Calypso’s assault? At least, I think it’s left ambiguous enough during the time jump that people can come to their own conclusions. Specifically when Calypso says “Soon into bed we’ll climb and spend our time” just really gives me the impression that something else happened.

I suppose in the snippets we’ve seen of “I’m Not Sorry For Loving You” it seems like Odysseus and Calypso are on slightly friendlier terms, but I don’t think that negates the fact she could’ve assaulted him. And I’ve always took that song as pretty manipulative on Calypso’s side, with Odysseus more so trying to placate her. But that’s going into theory territory.

And even if he isn’t SA’d in Epic it’s pretty clear he doesn’t want to be there!! Same with Homer’s Odyssey. It’s so infuriating to see the cheating narrative be so widely spread when that is just not what happened.

Anyway’s sorry for the long rant, but I wanted to say that it’s nice to see you take Odysseus’s SA seriously. It’s not something the fandom does enough.

It's okay for the long rant. Sorry I took a bit to get to it but I wanted some "soft chatters" for a bit before I tackled this one :)

"Just the other day I saw a comment on a post saying that “Odysseus wasn’t loyal to his wife yet expects her to be loyal to him” and not once in the replies did I see someone mention that he was literally assaulted. It’s absolutely gross and makes me hesitant to go deeper into the fandom."

I completely understand you with this stuff. ;~; I used to go through Odyssey tags often as I LOVE possibly finding new people to follow and fun things but too many times I would see shit that pissed me off. ;~; I've honestly kind of just stuck to my mutuals that I trust tbh. And honestly, there's soooo much shit of people just straight up not understanding the context/culture/meaning/etc. of the Epics and just taking it at face value and not understanding the meanings. :/ I'm no expert, but I also have analyzed and researched quite a bit on my own to try and get the full picture. I think in order to truly enjoy the Odyssey, you need to just... really soak shit in, you know?

When Calypso, that lovely goddess, tried to keep me with her in her hollow cave, longing for me to become her husband, or when, in the same way, the cunning witch Aeaean Circe held me in her home filled with a keen desire I’d marry her, they never won the heart here in my chest.

(Book 9, Johnston)

Odysseus tells this to the Phaecians. They are strangers that he will likely never see again and who are isolationists. Therefore his story that he told probably won't be "spread" to others so he can probably say whatever. So he doesn't have to worry about "Penelope hearing a different story than the one he told to her" if people wanna argue about how "Oh well, he didn't tell Penelope about the 'affairs'"(He tells her everything as well btw.)

He could literally say "Oh yeah, I had the time of my life!" but he doesn't because that's not true. Odysseus has no listed concubines, I just literally don't see him as the type of guy who's really into that.

And while yes, he would be devastated if she didn't "stay loyal", he does sound like he'd be understanding. He asks his mother in the Underworld if Penelope had gotten remarried to "the finest of Achaeans". And we all know of Odysseus' words of "when Telemachus has a beard, feel free to remarry". Even when first "rejected" by Penelope in that she didn't hug him when he sat across from her, he was incredibly hurt but asked for a separate bed. He literally could have had it where Penelope takes a different bed and he takes their luxurious/fancy one because he has the rest of the household on his side.

But he DOESN'T!

Because he adores her for fuck's sake!

Funny enough? I have the weird reaction of like, weirdly searching out "Good" animatics as it was a weird reassurance of "yes, people see that it's wrong." as while holy fuck. so many stupid, awful jokes about "Say No to This" in the comments (I have learned to just stay the fuck away from youtube comments on Odysseus shit. :') ) but like, seeing and HEARING how yes, this was fucked, was weirdly really nice for me. yeah, it took a lot of digging but there's a few "There Are Other Ways" that I love. Literally, both are unfinished wips and they're still my favorites. If you can, please give these two a watch and some love for the creator.

This was back before we heard the full song and it's still very good. How he's on guard until she "magics" him and the colors change. After that he kind of moves like a "puppet" but he's still resisting as best he can.

youtube

This one is literally still sketches but it's my absolute favorite. Oh my word. The body language, PENELOPE FLASHBACKS!!! Showing cute bits of Penelope's character and how awful this is for him. (Penelope is so cute. She puffs up her cheeks to make him laugh!) How he really is scared that he'll have to go through with this in order to save his friends until all his past trauma floods back and he just can't. It's lovely.

youtube

And yeah Idk how to feel about "I'm Not Sorry For Loving You" :/ I don't know how it'll be yet, maybe there's something in another song that shows Odysseus' real feelings or whatever.

And with just the whole cheating thing, yeah, it's really upsetting to call what is blatant assault "cheating". As wild as it sounds, Odysseus' story has been more relatable for me than any other stories like this, even modern ones. I've spoken a bit about it before but yeh, victim blaming at its finest. I find him and his story and his love for Penelope slkdfj very relatable. It's honestly really nice to write about in a sense..

(I'm pasting this from an old post of mine but yeh)

I have never had a story that felt like how it actually FEELS. The "aftermath" and "regaining life". It's hopeful and feels really good. It's been years since "everything" but it just felt nice to see "Everybody has the chance to get better." Even Nestor, Helen, and Menelaus, while still dealing with their traumas, are doing a lot better now. And after literal hell, Odysseus got to be with his family and loved ones again. He can start living again. It's why I'm just...idk passionate about this? I'm not a murderer or a war veteran but I see myself in him. Hopefully, y'all see me as nicer though!😂(plus, let's be honest, the Odyssey is romantic af and OdyPen is right up my alley as well >:D )

I really hate the whole "he's a guy so therefore ____" whether it's used as a "Boys will be boys. they can't help themselves" usually aimed at female victims or a "Men always want sex. they cannot be victims.". It's fucked up and used against ALL of us. :( Doesn't matter if it was history. People, no matter the era, should never be put through "Are you Victim™ enough?". He is one.

Idk the Odyssey means a lot to me. I hope it's okay I take some liberties with my fanfics as it's nice healing through him :D I AM kind of using my own experiences and ideas and it feels nice. I don't think Homer necessarily meant for this but eh, anything that helps is good :D He's a war criminal that I relate to.

#Mad rambles #shot by odysseus #ask #anon #essay #tw sa mention #odysseus #epic the musical

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deans-queen · 2 days

Text

I Remember It🧣

Pairing: Jensen x Reader (Y/N)

Summary: Reader has been thinking a lot about her past relationship with Jensen, and she wishes things could have ended differently

Inspired by the Song All Too Well (Taylor’s Version) bold/italic text: song lyrics

Warnings: language, light smut, emotional vulnerability, sexual themes.

Reader’s POV

It’s been months, but I still think about him every single day. Jensen Ackles—my Jensen—was everything I wanted. Until he wasn’t. I never thought we’d fall apart like this, that I’d be left holding pieces of a love so strong it could shatter me. But now here I am, sitting in my quiet apartment, listening to “All Too Well (Taylor’s Version)” and staring at the old scarf I wore the day we met.

“I left my scarf there, and you’ve still got it in your drawer even now…”

The words of Taylor’s song hit me right where it hurts the most. God, it was so stupidly perfect, the way we’d fallen for each other. I can still remember the way his hands felt on my body, his touch slow and deliberate, the way his lips would trace along my neck. The way he’d make me feel like I was the center of his world. He’d whisper things in my ear, dirty words that would set me on fire, make me crave him even more.

“Y/N, baby, you drive me wild…” he’d say, his voice low and husky, right before he’d kiss me, deep and consuming, pulling me into a world where nothing else existed but us.

And I gave everything to him. I wanted to drown in him, in his love, his touch, his passion. But looking back, maybe that was the problem. I gave him too much of myself, and he took it without realizing just how fragile I was. How fragile we both were.

“You call me up again just to break me like a promise, so casually cruel in the name of being honest.”

God, how that line hits me every time. He didn’t mean to break me, but he did. One night, after another fight, he just… walked away. He said we needed space, that we were moving too fast. But what he really meant was that I wasn’t enough to keep him grounded, to keep him here.

My heart still aches when I think about the last time we were together. We had one of those rare moments where everything was perfect again. We were tangled up in the sheets, my body pressed against his, our breaths heavy and shallow. He whispered my name in that deep, raspy voice, his fingers tracing my curves like he was memorizing every inch of me. I kissed him then, slowly, letting him know I wasn’t ready to let go, that I would always want more.

His lips were soft against mine, tasting like the whiskey we’d been drinking. He bit my bottom lip gently, making me moan into his mouth, and then he chuckled. That low, sexy sound that used to make me melt. “You like that, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice dark, teasing, the way he always did when he knew he had me.

I did. God, I loved it. I loved every second of being with him.

But I knew in that moment that it was slipping away. Even as we touched, as we kissed and lost ourselves in the heat of the moment, I could feel it—the distance growing between us. The way he would pull back, emotionally, even as his hands pulled me closer physically.

“And maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much. But maybe this thing was a masterpiece ‘til you tore it all up.” I whisper the words to myself, feeling the tears burn my eyes. Maybe that’s what happened. Maybe I was too much for him, and he wasn’t ready for all I had to give.

I wish I could say it didn’t still hurt, but it does. Every time I close my eyes, I see him, smell him, taste him. I remember the way his breath would catch when I touched him, the way he’d look at me like I was his entire world. And yet, it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.

I wipe my tears and grab the scarf, pulling it to my chest. It still smells like him, faintly, like leather and cologne. I wonder if he ever thinks about me, if he ever regrets walking away. Does he still have my scarf? Does he ever pull it out of the drawer and think about what we could have been?

Time won’t fly, it’s like I’m paralyzed by it, I’d like to be my old self again, but I’m still trying to find it.

The truth is, I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same again. Loving Jensen changed me, broke me in ways I never expected. But I don’t regret it. I’ll never regret loving him, even if it still hurts like hell.

I close my eyes and lean back against the couch, the scarf wrapped tightly around my fingers, remembering the love that was once ours. And even though I wish things had ended differently, I can’t help but smile through the tears, because for a moment, I had him. I had him all too well.

It’s been weeks since I last thought of Jensen. Or at least that’s what I’ve been trying to tell myself. But deep down, I knew I never really let him go. The pain has softened into a dull ache, but it’s still there, lingering just beneath the surface.

I’m curled up on the couch, sipping coffee, wearing his old flannel—yeah, I know, pathetic—when I hear a knock at the door. My heart skips a beat. I’m not expecting anyone, and for a split second, I think maybe it’s Victoria. But when I open the door, I nearly drop my mug.

It’s him. Jensen, standing there, looking exactly the way I remember him. His piercing green eyes lock onto mine, and suddenly, I’m transported back to all those moments we shared. The nights filled with whispered promises, stolen kisses, and passion that felt too big for either of us to handle.

“Y/N,” he breathes my name like a prayer, his voice low and strained. I can see the weight of everything hanging between us, the words unsaid, the pain we caused each other. “I—I know I don’t deserve to be here, but I had to see you.”

I cross my arms over my chest, trying to protect myself from the whirlwind of emotions rushing in. “Why now, Jensen? After everything, why are you here?”

He steps closer, his eyes filled with regret. “I messed up. I know I hurt you, and it’s taken me too damn long to admit that. But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you—about us.”

My throat tightens, and I struggle to hold back the tears. “You walked away, Jensen. You left me here, broken. And now you just show up and expect what? For me to forget all of that?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, that familiar gesture that once made me weak in the knees. “I know I can’t undo the past. I wish I could. But I need you to know, I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Part of me wants to slam the door in his face, tell him to leave and never come back. But another part—the part that still loves him, still aches for him—won’t let me.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

He takes another step toward me, close enough that I can smell his familiar scent—leather, whiskey, and something distinctly Jensen. “Let me prove it to you,” he murmurs, his eyes searching mine. “Please, Y/N. Let me show you that I’m not going anywhere this time.”

I can’t help but look away, my heart hammering in my chest. The memories of him are overwhelming—the good, the bad, all of it. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. But then I feel his fingers gently touch my chin, lifting my face to meet his gaze.

“I never should have left you,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “You were everything to me, and I was too scared to admit it. I was an idiot, and I didn’t deserve you then. But I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving I do now, if you’ll give me the chance.”

His lips hover close to mine, and despite every defense I’ve built, I can feel myself leaning into him. “Jensen…” I whisper, my voice breaking.

He closes the distance between us, his mouth crashing onto mine in a kiss that’s both desperate and familiar. The world fades away, and all I can feel is him—his hands in my hair, his body pressing against mine, the heat between us igniting instantly. It’s like no time has passed, like we’ve been waiting for this moment all along.

“God, I missed you,” he breathes against my lips, his voice thick with desire. His hands slide down my back, gripping me possessively as he deepens the kiss, his tongue teasing mine. I moan softly, giving in to the fire that’s been burning in me for him all this time.

He pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, his breath coming in heavy, ragged bursts. “I want you, Y/N. I always have. I never stopped wanting you. But it’s not just that. I need you. I need us.”

His words make me tremble, and I know I’m already too far gone to push him away. I’ve wanted this—wanted him—for so long. But I can’t let him break me again. I need to be sure.

“You hurt me, Jensen,” I whisper, my voice shaking as the tears I’ve been holding back finally spill over. “You left me, and I don’t know if I can go through that again.”

He cups my face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “I know, baby. I know. And I swear to you, I will never hurt you like that again. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me.”

The vulnerability in his voice, the raw emotion in his eyes—it’s too much. My defenses crumble, and before I can stop myself, I’m kissing him again, hard and desperate, like I’ve been starving for him all this time. He responds with equal intensity, his hands roaming my body, pulling me against him like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.

We stumble backward into my apartment, lips never breaking contact, and I’m lost in him again. Lost in the heat, the passion, the love that never really faded.

As we collapse onto the couch, his body pressing me into the cushions, I know this time it’s different. This time, he’s here to stay. And maybe—just maybe—we can pick up the pieces of what we lost.

“And I remember it all too well…”, and so does he.

Authors Note:

Hope you enjoyed this story! It’s been in my drafts FOREVER, and I’m so glad I finally got the chance to post it. And also if this song doesn’t make you cry then are you even human ??? 😭Feel free to let me know what you think! I always love reading feedback!

Like & follow for more !! Xoxo

Want to read more? Check out my other stories!

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thatwritterbeach · 2 days

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One messed up bat pt.2

Dc masterlist all other parts found here

Batfam x reader Jason Todd x reader

Summary: the batfam's approach to Y/n self harming, Bruce is a meanie, and neglectful meanie

warnings: Angst, self harm (active), self hate, depression, anxiety, eating disorder,mentions of alcohol and drugs but not use of either, sexual assault mention, non-con mention, joker has bad touched y/n, puke, purging,

I do not own dc, kinda short sorry. Full bruce hate, I never forgave him for not killing the joker, among other things

Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian all sat around her while Alfred poured tea. Her leg was bouncing and her fingers were tapping on her knees.

"Somebody gonna fill me in," Bruce asked into the silence.

"I second that," Jason said.

"Well, we are here to support-" Tim started to say before Damian cut in.

"Y/n was cutting herself and you have to fix it," he said from his spot next to her. He latched himself onto her arm and rolled her sleeve up to show off the bandage.

"Y/n," Bruce said softly, running a hand down his face in exhaustion. He's too tired to put up with you.

"Why," Jason asked moving to sit next to her and grab her other hand. Tim was sitting on the back of the couch behind her, Dick was perched on the arm next to Damian and Bruce was across from her in an arm chair.

"I'm in a family of superheros that spends more time looking after strangers than they do their own people."

"Y/n," Dick said on a sigh.

"It's our job," Bruce said. Like that excused all the neglect.

"If you're just gonna undermine everything I say and bring up 'the mission' as an excuse for everything there's no point in having this conversation cuz it's just gonna make things worse," she seethed glaring at Bruce.

"No more work talk, just tell us about you," Dick said.

"Damian go help Alfred with dinner."

"But-"

"Go." He rolled his eyes but stomped out of the room.

"I've been cutting since Jason died-"

"Shit," Tim interrupted quietly.

"Burning too when I feel like it. Definitely have an eating disorder, depression goes without saying. All forms of anxiety, panic attacks, anxiety attacks, hmmm," she paused in mock thought looking to the ceiling for answers.

"What do you mean burning," Jason asked before she could continue.

"I use a lighter to heat up a blade, or something else metal and hold it to my skin. Just 1st and second degree, enough to blister. I prefer burning because the pain lasts longer," she explained casually. Stop talking you idiot!

"Y/n," Dick muttered, so sadly the guilt crept up her throat.

"How else do you hurt yourself," Bruce asked sliding her tea closer to her, like that helped.

"I think that's it, don't know I've done shit for so long I don't even think anymore. I blink and there's a few new cuts I don't remember making." Stop talking!

"Oh my god," Tim whispered.

"You black out? Do you drink," Jason accused, unwilling to ask about drugs.

"Nope, never touch the stuff." Where her hands shaking or was she imagining that? Didn't matter Jason's warm and rough hand enveloped both of hers to stop them. Are your eyes meant to get fuzzy when your crush touches you?

"What can we do to help, what do you need from us," Bruce asked eyeing their hands with a touch of unease?

"Oh, now you care. What fifteen, twenty kids later you care? I don't need or want anything from you, actually, no, what I want is my damn job back." Is your heart supposed to be at 150 BPM?

"Sweets, I can feel your heart through your finger tips."

"I'm fine, my heart rate's always a bit fast." But she was starting to sweat.

"Are you having any other systems, how often do you have anxiety attacks," Dicks asked sitting beside her to hold two fingers to her pulse and count.

"Once a week, once every two weeks, I don't know, why?"

"Do you feel like you're going into one?"

She took a deep breath and did a mental self-assessment. Fast heart, sweat, shaky hands, but clear thoughts.

"I don't-I don't...it doesn't feel like it? Maybe just heightened anxiety, I don't know, I feel more anger than anxiety," she told him smacking his hand away when he tried to check for a fever.

"Does your heart rate usually get to 160 when you're mad," Dick asked.

"Sounds right, I have anger issues." Jason snorted out a laugh.

"Welcome to the club kid." His hand moved to tug on her hair then dropped to her neck to rub circles with his thumb.

"When you call me kid it makes me feel small and useless," she told him with soft smile.

"Shit, sorry."

"I cal you kid, like ninety percent of the time," Dick panicked.

"Chill big bird, it's not gonna drive me to a cliff."

"You're not going back to work."

"Wayta' read the room, Bruce," Tim chastised dramatically draping himself over the back of the couch.

"Careful, Tim your fruit is showing," Y/n said, laughing at her own joke. ( Tim is bi in this)

"His what," Jason whisper yelled whipping his head around to check his brother fly. Dick who was 'hip' to the kids slang these days just laughed and high fived her.

"What's fruit then?"

"When someone is gay you call them fruity," she explained gesturing to Tim's totally not straight pose.

"Oh, got it. Wait a damn minute, that's what you meant when you called me a mango nerd the other day."

"Dude you said and I quote 'you can't wear that spring outfit with that fall purse you heathen' with a hand on your hip."

"It was for a benefit ball, I was trying to help you, you fashionably challenged fool."

"Get a room," Tim complained throwing a hand over his eyes like even watching them was painful.

"Was it that peach dress with the blue clutch," Dick asked, of course, he hadn't attended but he saw the papers and news.

"Sorry, I thought I was the girl in this family, let me just turn my closet over to you-"

"Can we get back to your issues," Bruce interrupted, freaking buzzkill.

"Sorry, was my bonding time with brothers I haven't seen together in over a month cutting into your plans. Are you trying to wrap this up so you can put on your Halloween costume and go beat up poor people. Sorry my depression is such an inconvenience for you. Don't worry, me slicing into my own flesh can take a backseat to your useless and selfish vendetta.-"

"That's enough, I do care-"

"Really! Did you care when your second robin got murdered and you couldn't be bothered to stop his killer, did you care when you forced me into that suit and took me out with basically no training? Did you care when the man you refused to kill took me hostage, when the devil you clearly love sank his claws into my innocent skin? Did you even ask when I came back to the cave with blood running down my legs-" Her jaw might have popped from the grinding of her teeth if Dick and Jason hadn't cut her off.

"What the actually fuck, Bruce!" Jason.

"What the hell!" Dick.

"I didn't know," Bruce said hanging his head and shoving his fingers into his hair.

"You didn't fucking ask. Why the hell else would I have come back looking the way I did, did you even notice I was gone?"

"I-"

"I don't care," she interrupted with an eye roll, shaking the boys off her to try and leave the room. Tim was faster and blocked her path but she knew he would cave, they would all give her alone time after the bombshell she'd just dropped. She tried not to smirk when Bruce moved to follow her and both Dick and Jason stood in his way.

"So not only did you fail to stop a kid from being murdered, you failed to tell me he was even dead until after his funeral, and you failed to protect her."

"I hate you," Jason said and they all knew he meant it. The guilt was back, clawing at her insides and making bile rise to her throat. They'd been mending their relationship and she just turned Jason on Bruce without thinking.

"I'm sorry," he tried.

"We don't care," Tim spoke for all of them stepping aside to let her through. She hurried to leave before they changed their mind but stopped short with a soft 'shit' when she nearly ran into Damian.

"You heard it all didn't you?"

"Father's an idiot."

"I'm sorry you had to hear that."

"Tt, I'm sorry you had to go through that, my beloved." (he calls her that cuz she's his favorite and acts almost as a mother figure)

"You mind telling Alfred not to set my place?"

"Of course."

Thank God, he didn't insist on following her. With a quick hug and hair ruffle she sent him off and nearly sprinted to her room, her trained feet not making a sound on the polished wood. They hadn't taken any of her blades yet so she had her pick for one last hurrah before they found her. With what could only be described as a quiet evil laugh she selected a simple pocket knife and skipped to her en suit locking the door behind her. her shorts were off in a flash and she had four quick and clean cuts in no time, the sting was ok but not enough to ease the guilt from blabbing her big mouth so she did a few more. The feeling didn't ease and her chest only got tighter in panic of being found so she cleaned and bandaged them then sank to her knees in front of the toilet. Pressing on her stomach right where her ribs met she was able to bring up her food without shoving her fingers down her throat. When nothing but foam came up and her eyes stung from tears she rose to clean up.

"Y/n, you have two second before I kick in the door," Jason warned. Well shit.

9-24-24

#batfam #batman #dc comics #dick grayson #jason todd #bruce wayne #dc universe #dcu #angst #jason todd x oc #jason todd x reader

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