#@ jay- whats your relationship status? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gyuuberryy · 2 days

Text

a love affair in colour

pairing: art tutor!jay x princess!reader

synopsis: as a princess exploring her artistic passions, you’re drawn to jay, your mesmerising art teacher whose lessons stir more than just creativity. what begins as a quest to master your craft quickly becomes a whirlwind of tension and forbidden desire. with every brushstroke and shared moment, the line between teacher and lover blurs. but when societal barriers and personal doubts threaten your connection, will you both find a way to embrace a future together, or will your love remain a beautiful but fleeting masterpiece?

genre: strangers to lovers, forbidden relationship, comfort

warnings: kissing, lots of tension, mentions of status difference, angst, a little suggestive

note: i used my experience in art to detail all the content related to it so bear with me if it seems a little modern, i don't know much about how they did art in the olden times. also jay just constantly raises my standards??? i love that man so much he's so husband material it hurts TT enjoy reading!

word count : 11.1k

royally yours masterlist | prev:heeseung | next: jake

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

you’ve always been drawn to art. as a child, while other princesses were learning courtly etiquette or practising diplomacy, you were sneaking into the gardens to sketch the trees or hiding in your chambers, fingers stained with ink as you copied paintings from the castle’s grand halls. but those were mere indulgences, fleeting escapes from the rigid structure of royal life.

when your parents noticed your growing talent, they encouraged it—as a hobby, of course. something to amuse yourself with between diplomatic meetings, public appearances, and the pressures of royal expectations. but for you, art was never just a pastime. it was a passion. an escape. a way to express the parts of you that didn’t fit into the carefully curated image of a princess.

so, when you told your parents you wanted to pursue art seriously, it was met with initial resistance. a princess has duties, obligations, responsibilities. but you persisted, and eventually, they relented. if you were going to study art, they wanted the best for you. that’s how jay came to the palace—an accomplished artist in his own right, though he came from modest beginnings. he was hired to help you master the craft before your trip to paris, where you’d study under the finest artists in the world.

jay’s reputation preceded him. he was known not only for his skill but for his ability to bring out the best in his students. when he arrived at the palace, you were both eager and nervous, unsure of what to expect.

your first meeting was in the grand studio, a room that had once been your sanctuary. now, as you stand by the window, gazing out over the palace grounds, you feel the weight of what’s to come. you’re no longer a novice; this isn’t just a casual hobby. this is the beginning of something serious, something real. and the thought of it is both exhilarating and terrifying.

the door creaks open behind you, and you turn to see him—jay. he’s younger than you expected, though older than you by a few years. his clothes are simple, a stark contrast to the luxury of your surroundings, yet he wears them with a quiet confidence. his dark hair is tousled, as though he’s just come from a long day at work, and there’s a certain intensity in his eyes, a focus that makes your stomach flip.

“your highness,” he greets, bowing low.

“please, just my name,” you say quickly, hoping to dispel some of the formality that hangs between you. “if we’re to work together, there’s no need for titles.”

he straightens, and for a moment, you think you see a flicker of something—surprise? amusement?—in his expression, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. “very well,” he says simply. “shall we begin?”

you nod, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves as you lead him to the easel set up near the window. it’s been prepared for your first lesson, a blank canvas stretched taut, waiting for the first stroke of charcoal or paint. you’ve done this before, hundreds of times, but never under the watchful eye of a teacher like jay.

“before we begin,” he says, setting his bag down on the table, “tell me why you want to do this. not because you have to—because you want to.”

his question catches you off guard. you’d expected him to dive straight into the technical aspects of drawing or painting, not to ask about your motivations. but there’s a seriousness in his tone that tells you he’s not just asking out of curiosity. he wants to understand. he wants to know you.

“i’ve always loved art,” you admit, folding your hands in front of you, feeling a little exposed. “it’s the one thing that’s mine. in a world where so much is decided for me, art is where i get to choose. it’s... freedom.”

jay nods slowly, as if weighing your words. “art is freedom,” he agrees quietly. “it’s expression. it’s telling the world who you are without saying a word. but it’s also discipline. and commitment. if you’re serious about this, i’ll push you. i’ll make sure you’re challenged. does that sound like something you’re ready for?”

your heart beats faster. his intensity is palpable, and it’s hard not to be swept up in it. “yes,” you say, though the word comes out softer than you intended. “i’m ready.”

he regards you for a moment longer, then reaches into his bag, pulling out a small sketchbook and a piece of charcoal. “we’ll start with something simple,” he says, handing you the charcoal. “i want you to draw me.”

you blink, surprised. “draw you?”

“it’s a good exercise,” he explains, moving to stand a little distance away. “if you can capture the essence of a person, you can draw anything.”

your fingers tighten around the charcoal as you sit at the easel, facing him. it feels strange, having him as the subject. his features are sharp, defined, but there’s something else—an intensity in his gaze that makes it hard to concentrate. you take a deep breath and begin to sketch, the sound of the charcoal scratching against the canvas the only sound in the room.

it’s not easy. his face is a study in contrasts—strong jawline, soft eyes, dark brows furrowed in concentration as he watches you work. you find yourself getting lost in the details, trying to capture the exact curve of his lips, the shadow beneath his cheekbone. but the more you focus, the more elusive it becomes.

“you’re overthinking it,” jay says suddenly, breaking the silence. he moves behind you, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his body, though he doesn’t touch you. “you’re focusing on the parts, not the whole. step back. see the bigger picture.”

you try to follow his advice, but his presence behind you is distracting, and the scent of him—earthy, with a hint of something fresh—fills your senses. your heart beats faster, though you try to ignore it.

jay steps closer, his breath warm against your ear. “here,” he says softly, reaching out to guide your hand. his fingers brush yours, sending a jolt through your body, and you almost drop the charcoal. “loosen your grip. let the lines flow.”

you do as he says, though your heart races at his nearness. his hand lingers over yours for a moment too long before he pulls away, but the connection between you doesn’t fade. the air feels charged, as if something unsaid hangs between you.

when you finish the sketch, it’s rough, imperfect, but there’s something there—a spark of life, of emotion. jay leans over your shoulder to examine it, his expression unreadable.

“better,” he says after a moment, his voice low and approving. “you’ve captured something real here.”

you look at the drawing again, trying to see what he sees, but all you can think about is the way his hand felt over yours, the way his voice seemed to wrap around you like a secret.

as he moves to gather his things, you realise that this is just the beginning. the first lesson. but already, something has shifted between you. something neither of you can name yet, but it’s there—in the shared glances, the lingering touches, the unspoken connection.

and as jay turns to leave, promising to return for your next lesson, you can’t help but wonder if this is really just about art—or if something far more dangerous has already begun.

the days following your first lesson with jay felt like a strange new rhythm. art had always been a deeply personal escape for you, something that existed in the quiet moments between royal duties, but now it had become something more. each session with jay stirred something inside you—not just the desire to improve, but a spark of something you couldn't quite name.

jay had been nothing but professional, his focus always on your craft. but beneath his calm demeanour, there was an undercurrent, a kind of intensity in the way he looked at you during your lessons. it was subtle, barely noticeable, but it was there, like the brushstrokes of a painting hidden beneath layers of paint.

today, as you enter the studio, you feel it more than ever. the room is bathed in soft light, the kind of glow that makes everything seem warmer, softer. jay is already there, setting up supplies on the table, his back to you. you watch him for a moment, your eyes tracing the broad lines of his shoulders, the way his hands move with such precision and care.

“good morning,” you say, finally breaking the silence. your voice comes out softer than you intended, the room swallowing the sound.

he turns, a brief smile crossing his face. “good morning.” there’s a hint of warmth in his tone, but as always, it’s controlled, measured. jay has never been one to show too much emotion, though lately, you’ve caught glimpses of something more.

“i thought we’d try something different today,” he says, gesturing to the large canvas in the corner of the room. “i want to work on your observation skills.”

you nod, intrigued. “what do you have in mind?”

instead of answering immediately, jay picks up a chair and places it in the centre of the room, angled toward the sunlight. he then takes his sketchbook and charcoal, positioning himself in front of the chair but far enough away that there’s space between you.

“i want you to sit,” he says simply, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before flickering away. “i’m going to sketch you.”

the request catches you off guard. “me? but... shouldn’t i be the one practising sketching?”

he smiles faintly, shaking his head. “today, i want you to feel what it’s like to be the subject. to understand how the artist sees you.” he glances at the canvas, and then back at you. “it’ll help you observe the world around you with more empathy, more connection.”

the thought of jay watching you, studying you so closely, makes your heart race. you’ve always been behind the canvas, never in front of it. to have his eyes on you, not just in passing but with the intention of capturing every detail—it feels strangely vulnerable.

but you trust him. there’s something about jay that puts you at ease, even when you’re unsure of yourself. so, you sit in the chair, adjusting your posture slightly, your hands resting in your lap.

“relax,” he says softly, his voice gentle. “you don’t have to pose. just be yourself.”

you try to do as he says, leaning back into the chair, though your heart is beating a little faster now. the room is quiet except for the faint scratch of his charcoal on the page, and you’re acutely aware of his gaze as it moves over you—your face, your hands, the way the light falls on your hair.

he works silently, his brow furrowed in concentration, and you find yourself watching him, trying to read the expression on his face. there’s a softness there that you hadn’t noticed before, a kind of careful attention that feels almost… tender.

for a while, neither of you speaks. you’re not sure how long has passed—minutes? hours? time seems to lose its meaning in this space, as if the world outside the studio doesn’t exist.

“so you want to pursue art huh?” jay’s voice breaks the silence, and you blink, surprised by the question.

“yes” you reply, shifting slightly in the chair.

he doesn’t look up from his sketch. “why did you choose art? out of everything you could have pursued?”

the question is one you’ve asked yourself many times. you think back to your childhood, to the afternoons spent sneaking away from your tutors to draw in the gardens, the way art always felt like a safe space in a world full of expectations.

“i think… it’s because art lets me be free,” you say slowly, choosing your words carefully. “in everything else, i’m the princess. i have to be perfect, poised, controlled. but with art, i can be messy. i can make mistakes. it’s mine.”

jay pauses, his hand hovering over the sketchbook for a moment before he continues. “freedom is important,” he says quietly. “especially for someone like you.”

there’s something in his tone, a weight to his words, and you wonder what he means by that. does he understand what it’s like to feel trapped by expectations? to want something more, something beyond the roles you’ve been given?

before you can ask, jay looks up, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since he started sketching. his gaze is intense, but not in a way that makes you uncomfortable. it’s more like he’s seeing you, really seeing you, in a way that no one else ever has.

“you have a natural grace,” he says softly, almost as if speaking to himself. “but it’s more than that. there’s something… untamed about you.”

your breath catches in your throat. no one has ever spoken to you like that before. not with such quiet certainty, as if they’ve seen beyond the surface of who you are.

you don’t know what to say. the air in the room feels heavier now, charged with something you can’t quite name. you shift in your seat, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze, but jay’s expression remains calm, thoughtful.

he tilts his head slightly, observing you with the same intensity he’s had since the beginning of the lesson. “there’s more to art than technique,” he says, his voice low. “it’s about connection. about understanding the person you’re drawing, not just how they look, but who they are.”

his words stir something inside you—a sense of being understood in a way you’ve never experienced before. you’re not just a princess in this room, not just another student. you’re you, with all your complexities and contradictions, and somehow, jay has seen that.

it makes you feel exposed in a way you hadn’t anticipated, and yet there’s a comfort in it, too. you’ve spent your whole life hiding parts of yourself, but with jay, it feels like you don’t have to.

finally, he sets the sketchbook aside, standing up and crossing the room to where you’re seated. he doesn’t hand you the sketch immediately, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s unsure about showing it to you.

“you can tell a lot about a person by how they draw,” he says quietly, standing in front of you now, his gaze unwavering. “but you can tell even more by how they let themselves be seen.”

your pulse quickens, the weight of his words settling deep within you. it’s not just about the sketch anymore—it’s about everything. the way you’ve been navigating these lessons, the way you’ve been letting him into your world, piece by piece.

he holds out the sketch to you, and when you take it, your fingers brush against his, a fleeting touch that lingers in your mind longer than it should.

the drawing is beautiful. he’s captured you in a way that feels both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. there’s a softness to your expression, a quiet strength in the lines of your face, and yet… there’s something else. something deeper.

“it’s beautiful,” you whisper, tracing the lines with your fingertips. “i’ve never seen myself like this before.”

jay watches you carefully, his expression unreadable. “that’s because no one’s ever looked at you like this before.”

the words hit you like a gentle wave, their meaning sinking in slowly. you glance up at him, unsure of how to respond. there’s a new tension between you now, but it’s not the kind that comes from desire or rushed feelings. it’s deeper than that—a connection, a shared understanding that goes beyond mere attraction.

for a moment, you sit in silence, the sketch resting in your lap as the light from the window shifts slightly, casting long shadows across the room. you can feel the change in the air, but neither of you moves to break it.

and as jay steps back, giving you space, you realise that this—whatever it is—will take time to fully unfold. you’re not rushing toward anything, but there’s something between you now, something real and undeniable.

but for now, you’ll let it simmer. there’s no need to rush. not yet.

the days have passed like pages in a book, each art lesson with jay slowly building a tension that you feel in the very air of the studio. his presence is constant but controlled, his touch fleeting yet always careful. you’ve found yourself looking forward to these lessons more than you’d ever anticipated, though not only for the sake of art. something else draws you here each time, something that’s harder to admit even to yourself.

when you arrive at the studio today, the familiar scent of paint and canvas greets you, mingling with the crisp morning air. jay is there, of course, already preparing the materials, his back to you as he arranges brushes and bottles of linseed oil. the sun filters in through the tall windows, casting long beams across the room, turning everything into shades of gold. today feels different, though you can’t quite pinpoint why.

he turns as you approach, offering you a brief smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "good morning," he says, his voice as calm and composed as ever, though you think you detect a slight hesitancy behind his words.

"good morning," you reply, your heart already beating a little faster. the last few lessons have been charged with a new energy, a subtle yet undeniable pull between the two of you. you've tried to keep your thoughts focused on the art, but with each session, it’s become harder.

jay steps over to the large canvas he’s set up for today’s lesson. "we’re going to work on technique," he explains, holding up a palette of mixed colours, the vibrant hues blending like a sunset in his hands. "i want you to feel the texture of the paint, how the brush moves against the canvas. it’s all about control and release."

you nod, though the concept seems easier said than done. painting has always been more of a challenge for you, especially when it comes to finding that balance. jay, however, has a way of guiding you through each step without ever making you feel inadequate.

"let’s start with the basics," he says, handing you a brush. his fingers brush against yours for the briefest moment, and you feel a spark travel up your arm, though you’re sure he doesn’t notice.

you position yourself in front of the canvas, trying to steady your breathing as you dip the brush into the paint. the first few strokes are tentative, careful. you focus on the movement of your hand, but your mind is distracted by the weight of jay’s presence behind you. it’s as if the air in the room has thickened, every sound, every movement, magnified.

jay watches in silence for a few moments, then steps closer, so close that you can feel the warmth of his body behind you. "here," he murmurs softly, his voice right beside your ear. "let me show you."

before you can respond, he places his hands lightly on your waist, adjusting your stance. the touch is firm but gentle, and it sends a shockwave through your body. your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you’re hyper-aware of every point of contact—his hands on your hips, the warmth of his chest just inches from your back.

"relax," he whispers, his voice low and calming, though you can hear a slight strain in it, like he’s carefully keeping something in check. "you’re too tense."

easier said than done. you can barely think straight with him so close, let alone concentrate on the canvas. but you try, forcing yourself to take a breath, to focus on the task at hand. jay doesn’t move away. instead, he steps even closer, his chest nearly brushing your back as he moves his hands from your waist to your arm, guiding your wrist as you hold the brush.

"feel the paint," he says, his breath warm against your ear. "don’t fight it. let it flow."

his hand wraps around yours, firm but careful, and he moves your arm in a slow, fluid motion. the brush glides across the canvas with ease, the paint spreading in smooth, even strokes. his touch is light but deliberate, and you find yourself following his lead, your body responding to the way he directs the movement.

"you’re doing well," he murmurs, and you can feel his breath against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "just like that."

the room feels smaller, the air thicker, as if the space between you is shrinking with each passing second. you try to focus on the canvas, but it’s impossible with jay so close. his presence is overwhelming, consuming, and you’re acutely aware of every shift, every movement.

"you don’t need to force it," he continues, his voice barely above a whisper now, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "let the brush move with you."

you nod, though your throat is too dry to speak. the closeness between you is intoxicating, and you can feel the tension building with each breath you take. jay’s hand tightens slightly around yours, and for a moment, you wonder if he feels it too—the pull, the unspoken connection that seems to have grown stronger with each lesson.

he guides your hand in another slow stroke across the canvas, but this time, the brush slips slightly, leaving a streak of paint that’s a little too heavy. you let out a soft, frustrated sigh, but jay only chuckles, the sound low and warm.

"don’t worry about perfection," he says, his voice rumbling in your ear. "art isn’t about being perfect. it’s about feeling."

his hand lingers on yours a moment longer before he lets go, stepping back slightly. the sudden absence of his touch leaves you feeling off-balance, as if the ground beneath you has shifted. you exhale a breath you didn’t realise you were holding and lower the brush, your heart still racing.

"good," jay says, his voice a little more distant now as he moves back to the table. "you’re getting better. it’s all about control and release, but it takes time to find that balance."

you nod, though your mind is still reeling from the intensity of the moment. you’ve never felt so aware of your body, of your own reactions, as you do when jay is close like that. it’s as though he knows exactly how to touch you, how to guide you, without ever crossing the line—but just barely.

you place the brush down on the easel, turning to face him. jay is busy cleaning the palette, his face unreadable as he focuses on the task. but there’s something different about the way he holds himself, a tension in his posture that wasn’t there before.

"thank you," you say softly, breaking the silence that has settled between you. your voice sounds a little shaky, but you hope he doesn’t notice.

he glances up at you, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment before flickering away. "it’s my job," he replies, but there’s something in his tone—something almost… uncertain.

the silence that follows is heavy, filled with the unspoken tension that has been growing between you for weeks. you can feel it in the way he looks at you, in the way his hands linger just a little too long when he helps you. it’s as though you’re both standing at the edge of something, but neither of you knows how to take the next step.

finally, jay sets the palette down and steps back, putting a little more distance between you. "we’ll keep working on this," he says, his voice returning to its usual composed tone. "you’re improving, but there’s still more to learn."

you nod, feeling a little breathless, though you’re not sure if it’s from the painting or from the closeness you just shared. "i’ll keep practising," you say, though the words feel almost trivial in the weight of the moment.

jay gives you a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "good," he says softly, before turning back to his brushes. "we’ll pick up again tomorrow."

you linger for a moment, watching him as he carefully cleans the paint from his hands, his movements precise and controlled. and as you leave the studio, you can’t shake the feeling that something has changed between you, something that neither of you can ignore for much longer.

the pottery studio feels different today. the atmosphere is heavy, thick with anticipation, but you try to ignore it as you sit at the wheel, your hands already messy with clay. the wheel spins slowly beneath your fingers, but no matter how many times you’ve tried, the clay refuses to cooperate, collapsing into a lump before you can give it any real shape. you groan in frustration, watching another failed attempt crumble under your touch.

“take your time. it’s all about feeling the clay, not controlling it,” jay says softly from behind you, his voice calm but carrying that familiar undercurrent of something unspoken. he’s watching closely, his presence as steady as always, but today it feels more intense—like a subtle hum in the air that makes the space between you vibrate with tension.

you sigh, wiping your hands on your apron. "i don’t think i’m getting this at all," you mutter, staring down at the shapeless mound on the wheel. pottery has proven to be a far bigger challenge than painting—there’s something about the unpredictability of the clay that throws you off balance.

jay steps closer, his footsteps almost silent on the studio floor. "you’re too tense," he observes, his voice low and measured. "let me show you."

before you can respond, he’s already moving behind you. the air shifts as his body nears, and suddenly, you can feel the heat of him pressing close. he slides onto the bench behind you, his legs on either side of yours. the intimate position makes your heart race instantly, your pulse quickening in response to his proximity. his chest brushes your back, his breath warm on the side of your neck, and suddenly it’s hard to focus on anything other than how close he is.

he pauses his movements. “is it okay if i sit behind you like this? i may need to touch your hands as well.”

you nod at his soft words, “yes that’s alright.”

the studio feels smaller, the world outside forgotten as you’re enveloped by his presence. you can feel the solid warmth of his chest against your spine, the way his thighs gently cage yours. every point of contact feels electric, the tension simmering between you palpable.

“relax,” he murmurs, his voice almost a whisper, low and soothing. his breath brushes the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “you’re trying too hard to control it. you have to let the clay respond to your touch.”

his hands move to cover yours, his fingers sliding over your clay-streaked knuckles. his touch is firm but gentle, guiding your hands to the wheel as it starts spinning once again. the sensation of his fingers wrapping around yours sends a ripple of awareness through your body, and for a moment, all you can focus on is the warmth of his skin, the weight of his hands over yours.

"feel the clay," jay instructs, his voice quiet but filled with intent. his breath is warm against your ear, and the proximity, the intimacy of the moment, makes it nearly impossible to concentrate. "it moves with you. let it guide you."

his hands press lightly against yours, directing your fingers as they glide over the surface of the clay. the wheel turns slowly beneath your palms, the soft texture of the clay smoothing out under the pressure. you try to focus on the task at hand, but the sensation of his body against yours—the gentle weight of his chest pressed to your back, his legs framing yours—is overwhelming. the world narrows down to the feel of his touch, the sound of his steady breath so close to your ear.

"you need to feel the shape," jay continues, his voice lower now, more intimate. his hands move with yours, guiding your fingers as they dip into the soft clay. his touch is deliberate, patient, and it feels like he’s not just teaching you pottery, but something deeper, something far more personal.

your hands move together as you both shape the clay, your fingers sliding inside the hollow of the vase. the action is slow, almost sensual, and the suggestiveness of the movement doesn’t escape you. the pressure of his fingers over yours, the way his hands direct yours in shaping the delicate interior, feels too intimate, too deliberate. the tension that has been building for weeks now feels almost unbearable.

your breath quickens, your heart hammering in your chest, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. jay’s chest presses more firmly against your back as his hands guide you deeper into the clay, shaping it from within. his fingers dip, mirroring yours, and the act of molding the vase becomes something far more intimate than you could have ever anticipated.

"just like that," jay whispers, his voice huskier than before, his breath hot against your ear. his hands slow, his fingers lingering on yours as you move together. the wheel spins quietly, the clay yielding to your touch, but it’s hard to focus on the art when the closeness between you feels like it’s about to explode into something more.

you can feel every movement of his chest against your back, the rise and fall of his breath growing uneven. the heat of his body is overwhelming, making it nearly impossible to concentrate on the clay. your pulse is racing, and you’re certain he can feel the way your body trembles slightly under his touch.

suddenly, you realise you can feel his heart. it’s beating erratically against your spine, matching the rapid rhythm of your own. the awareness crashes over you like a wave—he’s feeling it too. the tension, the pull between you, it’s not just in your head. his hands tighten slightly over yours, his chest pressing more firmly against your back, and for a fleeting moment, it feels like the world is tilting.

you bite your lip, trying to keep your breathing steady, but it’s impossible with him so close, with the weight of his body grounding you while simultaneously setting you on fire. your fingers dip into the clay once more, but all you can feel is the warmth of his hands over yours, the way his presence fills every corner of your mind.

jay’s breath hitches, barely audible, but you hear it. you feel it. the tension between you has been simmering for weeks, and now it’s at a boiling point, undeniable and heavy.

after what feels like an eternity, jay finally pulls his hands away, the absence of his touch leaving you cold and disoriented. his chest moves away from your back, and he stands slowly, as if he, too, is struggling to shake off the intensity of the moment.

"good work," he says, his voice quieter than usual, almost strained. he steps away from the wheel, his hands clenching and unclenching as though he’s trying to regain his composure.

you remain seated, your hands still coated in clay, your heart still racing. the silence between you is thick with everything unsaid. you can still feel the echo of his hands on yours, the warmth of his body lingering against your skin.

finally, you glance over your shoulder, your eyes searching his face for some kind of answer, some indication of what he’s thinking. but jay’s expression is unreadable, his gaze fixed on the now-complete vase on the wheel.

"you did well," he repeats, though his tone is quieter, almost distant. there’s something unresolved in the air, something that neither of you dares to acknowledge aloud.

as you stand, your legs unsteady, you can’t help but feel that something between you has shifted irreversibly. the line you’ve both been walking for weeks feels dangerously close to being crossed, and the question now is whether either of you is ready to take that step.

the last day of your art lessons starts with a sense of melancholy that you try to push away. you know that this will be your final session with jay, and although you’ve learned more than you could have imagined, the thought of no longer spending time with him feels like a loss. he greets you at the studio with his usual warm smile, but there’s something different about him today—a lightness that wasn’t there before.

“we’re not staying inside today,” jay says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “i figured we’ve done enough of that. you’ve been using my supplies, so i thought it’s time you get your own.”

you blink, surprised by the suggestion. “you mean we’re going shopping?”

he nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “you deserve your own tools. besides, i want to show you my favourite spots.”

the idea excites you more than you’d expected. it feels intimate, personal—like he’s sharing a part of himself with you outside the confines of the studio. and so, you follow him out into the bustling streets, the city alive with activity as you walk side by side, the sky overhead a muted grey that promises rain.

the first shop is a small, unassuming place tucked between two larger storefronts, and you wouldn’t have noticed it if jay hadn’t pointed it out. inside, it’s a treasure trove of art supplies—shelves stacked high with paints, brushes, and sketchpads of every kind. the scent of paper and wood fills the air, and you can’t help but feel a little like a child in a candy store, overwhelmed by the endless possibilities.

jay moves through the aisles with ease, clearly at home here. he picks up brushes, testing their weight in his hand before handing them to you to feel. “this one’s perfect for detail work,” he says, holding up a fine-tipped brush. “and this,” he adds, pulling out a thicker, more rugged one, “is for broader strokes, more expression.”

you watch him as he speaks, his voice low and sure, and you find yourself more captivated by him than the tools he’s showing you. there’s something about the way his hands move with such confidence, the way he seems to understand the soul of each item, that draws you in. it’s a side of him you haven’t seen before, one that’s less restrained, more passionate.

he catches you staring, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “what?”

you quickly look away, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “nothing,” you mumble, pretending to examine the brushes in front of you.

but you can’t hide your growing admiration for him, and you suspect he knows it. he moves closer, his arm brushing lightly against yours as he reaches for a set of soft pastels. “try these,” he says, handing them to you. “i think they’ll suit your style.”

you take the pastels from him, your fingers brushing against his in the exchange, and for a moment, the air between you feels charged. you swallow hard, trying to focus on the colours in your hand rather than the way his touch lingers in your mind.

from there, you move to the next shop, a slightly larger one filled with canvases of all sizes and shapes. jay pulls you toward a display of stretched canvas frames, explaining the difference between cotton and linen, the various textures and how they interact with different mediums. he talks with such enthusiasm that you can’t help but smile, his passion contagious.

“pick a few,” he says, gesturing to the rows of canvases. “you’re going to need a variety if you want to keep experimenting.”

you nod, feeling a sense of freedom in the choice. as you select your canvases, jay hovers nearby, occasionally offering suggestions but mostly watching with a quiet intensity that makes your skin prickle. you wonder what he’s thinking, whether he’s just as aware of the subtle tension that’s been growing between you over the weeks.

the third shop is more modern, filled with high-end supplies—gorgeous palettes of oil paints in jewel tones, sleek metal easels, and handcrafted wooden boxes for storing brushes. it’s clear jay has saved the best for last, and as you wander the aisles together, he shows you some of his favourites, his voice soft and reverent as he talks about the craftsmanship behind each item.

“i’ve always wanted one of these,” you say, running your fingers over a beautiful wooden palette, its smooth surface gleaming under the soft light. “it’s almost too nice to use.”

jay grins, standing beside you as he watches you admire it. “you should get it,” he says, his voice warm. “every artist needs something that feels special, something that inspires them to create.”

his words send a shiver through you, and you glance at him, the closeness between you suddenly palpable. the quiet intimacy of the moment, standing together in the softly lit store, surrounded by the tools of your shared passion, feels heavy with something unspoken. you nod, slipping the palette into your basket, trying to shake the fluttering in your chest.

as you leave the last shop, your arms full of bags and supplies, the sky opens up, releasing a sudden torrent of rain. the drops fall fast and heavy, soaking you within moments. you yelp in surprise, pulling your hood over your head, but it’s no use—you’re drenched almost immediately.

jay laughs, a rich sound that cuts through the noise of the rain. “looks like we’re in for it!” he shouts over the downpour, his hair already dripping wet as he holds a hand out to catch the rain.

you can’t help but laugh, your spirits lifting despite the sudden storm. the two of you stand in the rain for a moment, looking at each other, before jay suddenly grabs your hand.

“come on!” he says, pulling you into a run.

you follow him, laughing breathlessly as you race through the rain-soaked streets, splashing through puddles and dodging other passersby who huddle under umbrellas and awnings. the bags of art supplies jostle against your sides, but you barely notice, too caught up in the exhilaration of running with him through the storm.

the rain comes down harder, drenching you completely, your clothes clinging to your body and your hair sticking to your face. but none of it matters—you’re both laughing, the world around you a blur as you sprint through the narrow streets, your hand still held tightly in his.

jay pulls you into a narrow alleyway, ducking under a stone archway for shelter. it’s barely enough to shield you from the rain, but you’re both out of breath, giggling uncontrollably as you lean against the cold stone walls.

you’re both soaked, your clothes dripping water onto the ground, but the warmth between you is undeniable. jay’s hair is plastered to his forehead, droplets sliding down his face as he looks at you, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

you can feel the heat radiating from his body, even through the dampness of your clothes. you’re pressed so close to him in the narrow space that you can feel the tension building, the awareness of every inch of space between you—or rather, the lack of it.

jay’s laughter fades as his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the air between you shifts. his gaze softens, his usual playful demeanour replaced by something more serious, more intense. you’re both still, the rain beating down around you, but inside this tiny archway, it feels like time has slowed.

he reaches up, his fingers brushing a strand of wet hair from your face, and the simple gesture sends a shiver down your spine. his hand lingers by your cheek, and you can feel the warmth of his touch even through the coolness of the rain.

for a moment, neither of you say anything, the space between you heavy with everything that’s gone unsaid. you can feel your heart racing, your breath catching in your throat as his eyes drop to your lips for just a second, but it’s enough to make your pulse quicken.

then, without thinking, without hesitation, he leans in.

the kiss is slow at first—tentative, as though he’s testing the waters. his lips brush against yours softly, almost delicately, and for a moment, it feels like the world stops. the rain, the city, everything fades away, and all that exists is the warmth of his mouth on yours, the softness of his kiss.

your heart stutters, your body frozen for a split second before you kiss him back, your hands finding their way to his chest. the kiss deepens, and the tension that’s been building between you for weeks unravels in a rush of heat and longing. his hands slide to your waist, pulling you closer, and you respond in kind, pressing into him as though you can’t get close enough.

the rain falls around you, forgotten, as you lose yourself in the kiss. there’s a desperation to it, like neither of you knows when—or if—you’ll ever get this chance again. it’s intoxicating, overwhelming, and everything you’ve been holding back spills out in that single kiss.

when you finally pull away, breathless, jay rests his forehead against yours, his hands still holding you close as though he’s afraid to let go. you’re both panting, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, but you can’t seem to move, can’t seem to break the connection between you.

the kiss lingers in the air, an invisible thread still tying you to jay even as the rain continues to fall. his forehead rests against yours, his breath shallow and quick, matching the erratic rhythm of your heart. for a moment, everything feels right, the world outside forgotten, the storm cocooning you in your own little universe.

but then something shifts. you feel it in the way his grip on your waist tightens briefly before loosening, in the way his eyes darken, filled with a sorrow that cuts through the joy of the moment.

he pulls back, just a fraction, enough to put space between you but not enough to break the connection entirely. his gaze drops to the ground, as though he can’t bear to meet your eyes.

“we… we can’t,” jay whispers, his voice heavy with regret.

the words hit you like cold water, the warmth of the kiss suddenly feeling distant. “what do you mean?” your voice is soft, confused, almost pleading. you take a step closer, unwilling to let him slip away. “jay, what are you saying?”

he sighs, running a hand through his damp hair, his shoulders tense. “you know what i mean,” he says quietly. “you’re a princess. you belong to a world of crowns and thrones, and i… i’m just your art teacher.”

you shake your head, the rain beginning to soak through your clothes, but you hardly notice. “i don’t care about that! my parents wouldn’t either. jay, this—this connection we have, it’s real. you can’t just pretend it isn’t.”

his eyes finally meet yours, and for a moment, you see the same longing reflected in them. but then he looks away again, his jaw tightening. “maybe your parents wouldn’t care, but i do. i won’t let you throw away your life for me. you have responsibilities, a future. i can’t be the reason you turn your back on all of that.”

your heart aches at his words, at the way he’s trying to protect you even as it tears you both apart. you reach for his hand, holding it tightly. “you’re not asking me to give anything up. i’m telling you what i want. you. you’re what i want, jay.”

he looks at your hand in his, and for a second, he doesn’t move, as though he’s frozen between what he wants and what he believes is right. “you don’t understand,” he says quietly. “you’re used to a life of luxury. i can’t give you that. i won’t let you settle for less.”

the frustration bubbles up inside you, mixing with the hurt. “it’s not about that. it never was. do you really think any of that matters to me if i’m not happy?”

jay’s gaze softens, but the doubt lingers in his eyes, a shadow of the barriers between you. “i need time,” he says, his voice pained. “i need to think about this.”

you bite your lip, the tears you’ve been holding back threatening to spill. “take all the time you need. just… don’t take too long. please.”

he nods, his face filled with a mix of guilt and sorrow. then, like the gentleman he is, he steps closer, offering you his arm. “let me take you home,” he says softly, his voice carrying a tenderness that only deepens the ache in your chest.

the walk back to the palace is quiet, both of you wrapped in your own thoughts, the sound of the rain the only noise between you. his arm around yours feels protective, grounding, but it’s bittersweet knowing that he’s still holding a part of himself back.

when you finally reach the palace gates, jay pauses, turning to face you. the light from the lanterns casts a soft glow over his features, and for a moment, it feels like time stands still.

“goodnight, princess,” he says, his voice gentle, though there’s an unmistakable distance in his tone now.

you look up at him, wanting to say something—anything—to make him stay, to convince him that this is worth fighting for. but the words stick in your throat. instead, you nod, forcing a small smile despite the heaviness in your heart.

“goodnight, jay.”

he gives you a final, lingering glance before turning and walking away, the rain continuing to fall as his figure disappears into the night. you stand there for a long time, watching him go, your heart aching with every step he takes.

as you finally turn and walk inside, the warmth of the palace feels stifling compared to the cool rain outside. the emptiness left in jay’s wake presses down on you, and the realisation that you might not see him again for a while hits you like a blow.

in the days that follow, the quiet is suffocating. you try to fill your time with painting, with other lessons and royal duties, but nothing seems to lift the weight pressing on your chest. each moment stretches on, and the palace, usually filled with the comfort of familiarity, now feels hollow without him.

your parents notice your change in mood but don’t pry, their knowing glances suggesting they’re aware that something more than art is on your mind. still, you keep jay’s name on the tip of your tongue, unable to speak it without feeling the ache of uncertainty.

and so, you wait. you wait for a letter, for a word from him—anything to tell you that he hasn’t let go, that he’s still thinking about you as much as you are about him. but with each passing day, the silence only grows louder, the doubt harder to ignore.

what if he doesn’t come back? what if he decides you aren’t worth the risk?

the thought makes your heart tighten painfully. you sit in your art studio, staring at an unfinished painting, the brush limp in your hand, as you wonder if jay is fighting the same battle within himself.

it feels like an eternity has passed since that rainy day, since that kiss that felt like the world shifted. and now, all you can do is hope that he finds his way back to you before it’s too late.

the days stretch long and quiet after that night in the rain, and the distance between you and jay feels more unbearable with each passing moment. you keep replaying his words, the look in his eyes, the way he had kissed you—like he wanted to hold on forever but didn’t know if he should.

you throw yourself into your art, hoping the colours and brushstrokes will distract you from the weight of his absence. but the empty space he’s left behind is hard to ignore, especially as you finish the final piece you’d been working on for weeks—a vibrant painting of a parisian street, your future awaiting you there.

paris. the word itself sounds like a dream. the trip is supposed to happen soon—your long-awaited opportunity to study art in the heart of a city known for its creativity and beauty. it’s everything you’ve worked toward, yet now the thought of leaving without jay feels hollow.

what was once the pinnacle of your aspirations now feels incomplete. you had imagined this adventure, this new chapter of your life, and pictured jay being a part of it. but now, with his silence lingering between you, you’re uncertain of whether he’ll still be there when it begins.

sitting at your desk, you stare down at the blank parchment, the quill hovering in your hand. you haven’t spoken to jay since he walked away that night, but you can’t bear to leave for paris without reaching out, without giving him one last chance to understand how much he means to you.

the words come slowly at first, but then they start to pour out, your emotions and thoughts spilling onto the page.

dear jay, it feels strange writing to you after all this time—after all the moments we shared that now seem so far away. i’ve been thinking about what you said that night, about how we come from different worlds, about the future you think i deserve. but you need to know that none of it matters to me if you’re not a part of it. i’ve wanted this trip to paris for as long as i can remember, to learn from the best, to immerse myself in art and culture. it’s something i’ve dreamed about for years. and yet, now, as the day of my departure gets closer, all i can think about is you. i don’t want to go to paris and leave you behind, wondering what could have been. you’re as much a part of my passion for art as any paintbrush or canvas. you’ve shown me new ways to see the world, to express myself, and i’ll always be grateful for that. but more than that, you’ve become someone i can’t imagine my life without. i know you think i’m giving up too much, that i’m risking my future. but my future isn’t just about royal duties or titles. it’s about choosing the life i want—and i choose you, jay. i wish you could see that. paris is calling, but so are you. i can only hope that when you think of me, it’s with the same longing that fills every moment of my days without you. i hope that when you think of our time together, you’ll realise that this isn’t about status or sacrifice—it’s about love. i’ll be leaving soon after my birthday, but before i go, i need to know: will you come with me? or will i have to leave you behind? with love, [your name]

after sealing the letter, your heart is heavy with both hope and fear. you send it to jay, knowing that the next move is his. each day that passes without a response stretches the wait longer, the ache of uncertainty growing.

you try to stay busy with preparations for your trip, packing supplies and finishing your artwork. your parents notice the change in you—the excitement for paris dimmed by something you can’t quite bring yourself to share with them yet. they ask if you’re nervous, if you’re ready for the adventure, and you smile, telling them what they want to hear. but deep down, all you want is to hear from jay.

paris is just around the corner, but so is the decision you’re waiting for—the choice that could change everything.

the ballroom is a swirl of colour and laughter, filled with nobles, artists, and well-wishers all gathered to celebrate your birthday. the chandeliers above glitter like stars, casting a golden glow over the elegant space, and the music weaves through the conversations like a living thing, light and joyous. your parents spared no expense for this occasion, not only to mark your birthday but also to celebrate the upcoming adventure to paris.

it’s your birthday ball, but your mind is elsewhere, your heart tugged toward a memory that refuses to leave. you stand in front of your painting, the centrepiece of the night, hanging proudly on display for all to see. nobles and artists alike gather around it, marvelling at the vivid colours and delicate brushstrokes. you nod and smile politely as they offer praise, but inside, your thoughts are distant, wandering to a day not long ago when everything felt simpler.

the painting is of the marketplace—a bustling, lively scene full of energy and warmth. it’s the day you and jay had gone shopping together for art supplies, the day you let yourselves be ordinary, blending in with the crowds. the colours are bright and rich, capturing the vibrant chaos of the market: vendors calling out, the smell of freshly baked bread, the sound of coins clinking and people bartering for goods. in the corner of the canvas, nestled in the shadows of an alley, is a small, quiet space. it’s where you and jay had shared a moment away from the crowd, a stolen minute of peace amidst the noise, where the world had seemed to slow just for the two of you.

every brushstroke is infused with that memory—the warmth of the sun on your skin, the soft brush of his hand as he reached for yours, the unspoken connection that had blossomed between you in that hidden corner of the market. it was a day that felt like freedom, a glimpse of something more, something forbidden but undeniably real.

“your highness, it’s simply breathtaking,” someone says beside you, pulling you momentarily back to the present. a noblewoman in an exquisite gown stands at your side, her eyes wide with admiration as she gazes at the painting. “the light, the detail… it feels as though i’m standing there in the market myself.”

you nod and smile, offering a polite thank you, but her words barely register. all you can think about is him.

the weight of his absence has been heavy, pulling at your heart with every passing day, each one more difficult than the last. and now, on the night of your birthday, as you prepare to embark on a new chapter, all you can think about is the chapter you left unfinished.

you glance at the painting again, tracing the familiar lines of the marketplace, the hidden alley. that was the moment you knew there was something between you and jay, something more than just student and teacher, more than just friendship. it was the moment you allowed yourself to hope. but now, standing here alone, you wonder if that hope was misplaced.

and then, through the hum of voices and the soft strains of music, you hear it—a voice that sends a jolt through your entire body.

“you captured it perfectly.”

the sound of his voice makes the air around you seem to freeze. your heart skips a beat, your breath catching in your throat. slowly, you turn toward the source, and there he is—jay, standing just a few steps away, his eyes locked on the painting, his expression a mixture of awe and something deeper, something raw.

for a moment, you’re not sure if you’re dreaming. after weeks of waiting, of wondering, here he is, standing before you, his presence filling the space that had felt so empty without him. he looks different tonight—still himself, but dressed in a way that blends with the formality of the event. yet, there’s something in his posture, in the way his dark eyes flicker between you and the painting, that betrays the turmoil he’s been carrying.

“jay,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. but he hears you, as he always does.

he takes a step closer, his gaze shifting to meet yours, and for a moment, the world around you disappears. the ballroom, the guests, the music—it all fades into the background, leaving only the two of you in this fragile, suspended moment.

his eyes soften as they take you in, and there’s a vulnerability in his expression that you hadn’t seen before, something that makes your heart ache even more. “you remembered,” he says quietly, gesturing toward the painting. “the marketplace. that day.”

you nod, your throat tightening. “how could i forget? it was…” you pause, searching for the right words, but nothing seems adequate. “it was perfect.”

jay’s gaze lingers on the painting, as though seeing the memory play out all over again. his lips part, but no words come. instead, he takes another step toward you, his presence so close now that you can feel the pull between you—the unspoken tension that had simmered just beneath the surface for so long.

“i’ve been thinking about that day,” he says, his voice low and rough. “about us.”

your heart hammers in your chest. “and?”

his eyes flicker with a mix of emotions—regret, longing, and something you can’t quite place. “i thought i could stay away. that it would be easier, safer, for both of us. but i couldn’t.” his voice wavers, just slightly, and the vulnerability in it makes your pulse race. “not tonight.”

you swallow, your chest tight with the weight of everything left unsaid. the distance between you feels unbearably small, but also impossibly vast. he’s here. after all this time, he’s finally here. but the question still lingers, heavy in the air between you: what happens now?

just as you open your mouth to speak, to ask the questions that have been burning inside you for weeks, jay steps closer, his eyes locked on yours. the noise of the ballroom fades even further into the background, until all that’s left is him. and in that moment, with his gaze so full of emotion, you know that nothing has been forgotten. every stolen glance, every brush of hands, every whispered word—it’s all still there, between you, as real and undeniable as ever.

the night may be full of celebrations, but the only thing that matters is this: jay is here, and nothing will ever be the same again.

the grand ballroom continues to pulse with life around you, but the world feels quiet in the cocoon of jay’s presence. you haven’t even fully processed the fact that he’s here, standing in front of you after weeks of silence. his eyes—deep and full of an emotion you’ve longed to see—are fixed on you, as though he’s drinking in the sight of you, afraid to blink in case you disappear.

the weight of his absence, the unanswered letter, the uncertainty—it all rushes to the surface, but you force yourself to stay grounded in the moment. you open your mouth to speak, to ask the questions burning in your chest, but before you can, jay takes a step closer.

“you never stopped painting,” he says quietly, nodding toward the marketplace painting, his voice filled with a mix of awe and relief. “you’ve grown even more since i left.”

his words are a gentle balm to the ache in your heart, but they only skim the surface of what you truly want to know. you swallow hard, the emotions too thick in your throat to speak.

your breath hitches. “why didn’t you respond to my letter, jay?”

there’s a beat of silence before he looks away, the rawness of his feelings flickering across his face. “because i didn’t know if i was strong enough to walk away again,” he admits. “and i wasn’t sure if i could give you the life you deserve.”

“after everything we’ve been through, you still think i care about that?” you whisper, your voice trembling with the weight of all the unspoken words. “i just wanted you, jay. that’s all i’ve ever wanted.”

his jaw tightens, and he takes another step forward, closing the distance between you until his presence is overwhelming. “i couldn’t respond, because i knew that if i did, i wouldn’t be able to stop myself from coming back to you. and once i did, i’d never want to leave. but you… you have paris, you have a future.”

“and i want you to be part of that future,” you say, your voice stronger now. “i’ve had weeks to think about this, jay. i’m leaving soon, and i need to know where we stand before i go. please, just tell me how you feel.”

jay’s eyes flash with a storm of emotions—hesitation, fear, and something deeper, something that has been bubbling just beneath the surface. he reaches out slowly, his fingers brushing yours, the touch sending warmth rushing up your arm. “i’m terrified,” he admits in a voice so soft it makes your heart ache. “i’ve never felt like this about anyone before, and i don’t want to ruin it.”

“you won’t,” you say, stepping closer until your hands are fully entwined, your pulse quickening as his warmth floods your senses. “i don’t care about titles, status, or what anyone else thinks. you make me feel alive, jay. that’s all i need.”

his grip tightens on your hand, and for a moment, it seems like he’s grappling with the depth of what you’re offering. his breath comes in shallow, uneven bursts, as though he’s trying to hold himself together.

“i don’t want you to sacrifice everything for me,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “you’re a princess, destined for greatness, for a life most people can only dream of. i’m just... a man who paints.”

you step even closer, until there’s barely any space between you. “and that’s enough for me. more than enough.”

for a split second, he looks at you as though he can’t believe you’re real. but then, before you can say anything more, he steps forward, pulling you into his arms in one swift motion. the warmth of his body against yours is overwhelming, but in the best way, and as his arms wrap around you, holding you tightly, you feel the tension that’s been building between you melt away.

“i’m so sorry,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear as he holds you close. “for leaving. for making you wait.”

you close your eyes, leaning into him, your heart swelling with the relief of finally having him here. “you’re here now,” you murmur against his shoulder. “that’s all that matters.”

he pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands resting gently on your arms as his dark eyes meet yours. and in them, you see everything—the love he’s been holding back, the fear, the hope. “i love you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “i’ve loved you since the first day we met, and i’ve been fighting it ever since. but i don’t want to fight it anymore.”

your heart swells at his words, the weight of them settling deep in your chest. “i love you, too,” you whisper, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you as you say the words out loud for the first time. “i always have.”

the smile that spreads across jay’s face is like sunlight breaking through clouds, and before you know it, he’s lifting you off the ground, spinning you around in a burst of joy and laughter. the world around you spins with him, but you don’t care—because for the first time in what feels like forever, everything is right. everything is exactly how it’s supposed to be.

when he finally sets you back down, your feet touching the ground once more, his hands stay on your waist, grounding you in the moment. his eyes, full of love and warmth, search yours, and for a second, neither of you speak. you don’t need to. the silence is filled with everything you’ve both been waiting for.

“i want to be with you,” he says softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “but i don’t want you to lose yourself for me.”

you smile, shaking your head. “i’m not losing anything. i’m gaining everything i’ve ever wanted.”

jay’s hand finds yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he looks at you, his gaze full of the future. “paris,” he says, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “you’re still going?”

you nod, your heart racing at the thought of what’s to come. “i am. and i want you to come with me.”

he hesitates, just for a moment, as though the reality of what you’re asking is still sinking in. but then, his smile grows, and he nods, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly. “i’ll come with you. we’ll go together.”

your heart leaps at his words, the hope you’d been holding onto finally blossoming into something real. paris—together. it’s everything you’d dreamed of, everything you hadn’t dared to believe could happen. but now, standing here with jay, it’s all within reach.

“we’ll see the world,” he says, his voice soft but filled with excitement. “we’ll paint, we’ll live, we’ll—”

“we’ll be happy,” you finish for him, your smile widening as you lean into his touch.

he nods, his forehead resting gently against yours. “yes. we’ll be happy.”

and in that moment, as the ballroom buzzes with life around you, as the painting of your shared memory hangs on the wall behind you, you know it’s true. you and jay—together, free, and full of love. the world is yours, waiting to be explored. and with him by your side, you know that this is only the beginning.

as you stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the future stretches out before you like a blank canvas, waiting for you to fill it with all the colours of your love, your passion, and the adventures you’ll share. together, you’ll paint a life full of beauty, one brushstroke at a time.

and as the night fades and the dawn of a new chapter begins, you know—this is your happily ever after.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

taglist: @punchbug9-blog @firstclassjaylee @capri-cuntz @addictedtohobi @jaysfavoritegirl @yuniesluv @isa942572 @academiq @missychief1404 //the ones in bold could not be tagged for some reason. im so sorry guys tumblr is acting up :(

#౨ৎ 𝓐dy writes🪄#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #enhypen fics #enhypen x reader #jay #jay park #jay x reader #jay imagines #jay fics #jay oneshots #kpop fics #enhypen royal au #jongseong park #jay enhypen

208 notes · View notes

simpjaes · 7 months

Note

hi i just stalked the crap our of your page and HOLY CRAPTHIS IS MY NEW GUILTY PLEASURE

can i req seeing how enha hyung line would take care of you after railing you soooooo hard????

hyung line + aftercare after very intense sex

warning: uh....painful sex, fainting, dissociation, anal, implied squirting, degradation, idk just a lot of intense sex stuff ig

note: it's a lil messy, i've been running errands all day and am using this to push myself back into the writing brain :D

★ heeseung:

what i wanna say is that depending on the circumstances, he'd probably throw a towel at your head and walk away to shower alone but we all know heeseung is so much more than a careless fuck boy for the most part. in my opinion, if he's got you where he wants you and he's allowed to fuck you as hard as he can, rendering you faint, dizzy, and almost dissociated, he either has some sort of feelings for you, you're someone else's girlfriend and he wants you to like him more, or you're already in a committed relationship lmfao

and you know, you thought that after he managed to pull three orgasms out of you, fucked all three of your holes, and managed to get you all twisted up for him to cum in places he definitely isn't supposed to, you really thought he was done.

but then he chuckles, taking one look at you once his own mind clears from his orgasm and it's like...how could he not just continue to fuck you? you look so pretty already fucked open, lying there with tears in your eyes and shaking?

you'd hear something akin to "you're gonna take a bit more, open those eyes back up for me," and "i can tell you can take it, just keep your eyes on me."

it's kind of pathetic, actually, how you really do just lay there and take it until he says you're finished.

so, yeah, when you're with someone like heeseung, there's always a thought in your head about if he'll even take care of you at all after the fact. at least, the thought is there before he breaks your brain. even if every time before this where he's needed to bring you back, he has without question and with a voice from him that is always so rare to hear.

just kinda hard to imagine someone who fucks you near to the brink of passing out, sometimes actually passing out, finding it within themselves to take care of you as deeply as they fuck you, yknow?

but, time and time again he has to remind you that he's not only capable but willing to make sure you're well taken care of. after all, you do your part in taking it, so he'll do his part in giving you what you need too. only after scooping half the mess with his fingers and feeding it to you, of course.

after that though? he's very much hauling you off for a warm shower and tenderly washing you. very very gentle with his hands, knowing how sensitive your holes are. he'd compliment you, he'd praise you for letting him absolutely destroy that ass, and ultimately, lay you to sleep next to him regardless of what the relationship status is, making sure you're well aware that he's not just using you for pleasure. he's very much appreciative of what you bring to his bedroom, and there's no reason to pretend he isn't.

☆ jay:

i like to think that jay would have you in fucking pain and barely able to stand on your own two feet by the time he allows you to close your legs with deep groans as you try to catch your breath.

honestly, the stamina this man has and actively spends on you could render anyone immobile for at least a week with the way he snaps his hips and holds you down from wiggling away in sensitivity. and man, the things he'd fucking say to you through it. so degrading, so controlling and dismissive, entirely fucking insulting. you're shocked time and time again that even while knowing it's just sex talk, it still hurts your feelings every single time.

then again, he's aware of that. but you're so goddamn pretty when you're crying and moaning, it drives him insane to know you endure it for his pleasure.

you're soaked by the time it's over and done with, he's soaked, and honestly the swollen marks against your ass still burn intensely when he rolls you over on your belly to get a good look at his work.

always with a breathy "aw, baby, i really fucked you up this time, huh?" or a little "took it so well, you still can't even focus your eyes on me, can you?" before rubbing any and every pained mark he left on you.

after his own brain clears of the sex-fog, he'd wrap you up, really warm and tightly in his arms as if his hug would wipe away any of the spit and cum drying between your bodies, as if it could mask all of those insults he flung at you. still, he'd be fluttering hundreds of kisses against your neck and ears, whispering little compliments about how pretty you are when you're barely able to keep your eyes open, about how much he adores you, and how often he wishes you'd believe these words over the silly orgasm-fueled insults.

still whispering, throughout the entire session of his care after the fact. always loving that you let him harm you as long as he's healing you just as good. and he does, truly, with the back rubs and the showers, tons upon tons of sweet kisses. constant praise. he'd put your lotion on you and rub it in thoughtfully, occasionally some medicated cream if his fingernails dug in a little too deep.

always always always holds you against his chest when you drift off to sleep, making sure any pain in your body feels more like love than anything else, and promising time and time again that he'll make sure you always fall asleep knowing he loves you, and that he doesn't at all think you're a fuck-doll, that he wouldn't let his friends have their turn way you.

(i am madly in love with him, pls look away and stop thinking of him now thank u)

★sunghoon:

ah, sunghoon. yeah. sunghoon. this man would leave you a fucking mess of tears and drool, edging you for hours. hell, he edges you for fucking days just because he can. not at all because you've been bad, or a brat, or have managed to make him jealous.

this is one of those days. you could tell he came home with that look in his eye, grabbing your face and practically forcing you to lift on your toes just so he could whisper the planned torture against your tongue.

so, after the second day with you whining, fucking begging to be released from your prison of sensitivity and lust, maybe he gives it to you. maybe he wakes you up from a deep and much needed sleep with fingers harshly pinching your clit.

ah, the pain. that alone was enough to make you cum, and you did. unfortunately, he didn't like that very much so your new torture was to get off as many times as he expected you to.

after about, what, the seventh orgasm? you stopped counting, it was closer to eleven in the afternoon and he'd been giving it to you for hours, all over that little mishap.

an eight orgasm knocked your ass out, exhausted, spread out, fucked senseless. you could barely hold your head up, but he does it for you. first by your hair, but noting the look in your eye indicating that he really needs to stop by this point.

and sunghoon is the type that would stop at that point. something in his brain clicking and forcing him back into that perfect boyfriend persona, where the only thing in the world he wants to do is make you happy.

and he knows it's not that you're not happy right now, it's mostly just the fact that he thinks he broke you're brain and you forgot how to feel anything other than his cock ramming inside of you.

so, he'd remind you time and time again. how his hands can do so much more than choke you, and how his lips can be sweet and less bruising against your temple when you really need it. you'd feel entirely loved when he's taking care of the mess he caused. both physically and mentally for you. needing to bring you back to reality with soft touches and tight holds.

it worked every time, because by the next morning, you'd just be moaning and groaning about how if he hadn't of make you breakfast in bed, you may have very well slashed his tires for the amount of suffering he put you through.

☆ jake:

bro is taking care of you not only after sex, but the entire time during sex. there's not a single moment where he's intentionally trying to hurt you, or forcing you to take more than you can handle.

it just....kind of happens on nights like these. where his hands are clinging, and his throat is begging, and your body can't say no. with his pretty puppy dog eyes asking if he can try anal, with his fingers slamming too deep, with his grip on you so tight you know it'll bruise, with his ability to knock the breath out of you and not give it back until you're nearly blue in the face.

yeah, most of the intense shit is accidental, but god is he taking care of you. always apologizing but continuing, always promising to make it up to you, always feeding into your ego more than his own, reminding you that the pain his body lends only comes from the immense amount of need he has to practically crawl inside of you and live there forever.

it's kind of amazing actually, that someone who starts so gentle can also end with blood in his mouth from bitten lips and swelling bruises all over your body.

he tends to you hand and foot. carrying you where ever you need to go even if just to your closet three feet from the bed, dresses you, undresses you, fixes your hair, does your skin care, all while kissing the bruises and ignoring the fact that he knows he'll never have enough of you, and you're probably always gonna be in pain when he loses his control like that.

#enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #heeseung smut #jake smut #jay smut #sunghoon smut #jaeyun smut #jongseong smut #hardthots

592 notes · View notes

shuenkio · 1 month

Text

Rewrite the stars | PJ.s 🍂

Paring: Jay x Male!reader | Genre: Angst but fluff.

Synopsis: the man who once broke your heart, decided that he will make a change between you and him, to form the love once again.

Cw: nothing just two exes getting back together.

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st lang.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A-N: This was way back in June so it's a bit 🤏 cringe and many dramatic scene you'd discover, again I'm still develop how to express character emotion:> .

Years of dating with Jay crumbled in a blink of an eye when m/n saw him with a girl on a date with his gift that m/n gave him during his birthday. M/N calmed down, trying to process what's truly happening. We can't judge a book by its cover, but the moment M/N saw Jay press a soft kiss on the girl's cheek, it's over.

There's no explanation for this. M/N's tears break down unconditionally; he wants to go there and scream at Jay's face and ask why he would do such a thing to his boyfriend here. That's the ugliest memory you had of him. Nevertheless, since I love him very much, he can't seem to let him go.

Not because of his wealthy status; it's because he loves him so much from the bottom of his heart that he swears he would do anything for Jay. However, Jay had asked M/N to break up with him, and with no more heart in those eyes that once used to be, the adorable expression he made just for you when he talked about his day is no longer in this broken relationship.

Begging for him to stay would just make you pathetic and blinded by love. When m/n has decided he has to let him go, the person who's once been the love of his life is now leaving for their own good. Are all of the memories and promises nothing to Jay? The question seemed unspoken without an answer, clenching in his chest painfully in sorrow, along with the hurtful words that haunted your sleep every single day.

"Let's break up"

—5 years later, after M/n graduated and found his true passion with his dream job. He was no longer stressing about nonsense; he got everything at the age of 25: money, a car, a house, importantly, a job. chapter of his life wherein he can get whatever he wishes for. I worked as a designer, making tons of exquisite and high-quality collections of luxurious clothes and dresses that hit the market every single time they were launched.

His name soon became the hot topic in society; not only did he walk with the trend, he was also loved by everyone with his relatability and kindness. Moreover, during the week, while he was spending his time at the spa, M/N got a call from his manager saying that there'll be a new member of a top-tier design team who wishes to work with you, especially as one of the co-workers. This was not new, nor is it difficult to handle, but what was coming for you was a blind spot.

The time has come; M/N is now in a meeting room, waiting for the new guy who is eager to work with him so much. He wonders who it could be, as a top-tier designer in this city will make an appearance in front of you at any moment soon. The glass door was opened by a pair of hands, and his manager came in with the taller man behind in his black suit. Everyone in the room stood up as a sign of respect except M/N.

He was so lost in thought at the new face behind his manager. He is quite familiar. M/N refuses to care if he's scolded by the supervisor, yet who cares? The whole group settled down in their own seats, and due to M/N sitting across from the table, he began to focus on the meeting instead of giving his attention to that guy.

"Everybody, Meet Jay Park! He will be working with us from now on, as a designer, of course, just like our gem, M/N. Haha, and it looks like this gentleman is here. I look forward to working with you. How do you like that m/n? " It was horrible the unrequited attention on you was your least favorite thing you thought would never happen; the uncomfortable shift in your seat explained everything.

"Very well, Mr. Park. So then, since I've already seen him, I'll take my leave. Please excuse me." Once m/n knew who he was, he spared no time before leaving the place immediately. A glance on Jay's face, flashing back all of those nightmares once again. I don't know if it's because of work or something else, but deep down, a part of him said Jay is probably planning to take you back. How annoying.

Ever since the first meeting, of working together with your ex, M/N got nothing but troubling. Whenever Jay had time alone with M/N, he would always bring up the past topic all over again. He was truly sorry for his actions—for hurting you and for cheating on you with another girl. Jay swears he would wear his skin to the bone just for you to accept him once again.

However, it was such a bad move. Due to how much popularity M/N had, there's some reason you thought he would come back for you just because you had fame. Along with the sudden request to get back together, what will happen if he's going to cheat and repeat all the events once again? A busy day ended with the finished touch of your creation. M/N didn't know how long he had been standing here in the studio. All the sections are in pitch black except him. Employees have all gone back to their own homes. Prepared for you stuff to head home after a long day, a fade of voice fills the room from behind. Well, it was loud and clear to recognize.

"M/n i... Aren't you supposed to go home yet?" He paused, dipping his hands into his pocket.

"I'm about to. It's getting late; you should too," m/n implied with no enthusiasm for a small talk.

"Look, um, I know it's hard for you, but please hear me out." Jay's words seem so desperate; the low tone in his voice gives me chills. From the head to the bottom, not gonna lie, it's true he's a total mess. The bags under those eyes were visible on his face, and the lip was dry like he hadn't drunk any water. Is he going to make you pity him? No? At least you give him a chance to talk.

"If you talk about our relationship again, you should stop. I have nothing for those past memories."

"I’m so sorry... I never should have hurt you. I'd let you go. But every day without you is like living in a world with no sun—cold, empty, and endless. I was wrong to think I could burn on my own and that I didn’t need you. Without you, I’m just ashes. Please, I can’t keep pretending I’m okay. I’m losing pieces of myself every day. Give us another chance—I need you more than words can say" He whispered, his voice thick with regret. His hands trembled as he reached out, but he hesitated. Still respect your boundaries and keep the space between them. M/N stood there, stunned.

His chest tightened, and he could feel the lump forming in his throat, making it impossible to speak. Memories flashed through his mind—the laughter, the nights spent together, all the moments they shared. Tears began to well up in his eyes, blurring his vision. He tried to hold them back, but they spilled over, one after the other. His hands shook, and he felt completely lost, unable to do anything but let the tears fall.

Unable to hide his own weakness, he covers his own face with the pair of his palms, breaking down on the spot as his knees feel weaker than ever. Why should you cry over someone who once broke your heart, someone who left you in the middle of the ocean with no shore at all yet? Till today, he was crawling back, begging for forgiveness, swearing he'd never done it ever again.

Isn't that two times more painful than before? Should you accept him back or not? Or are you scared of getting stabbed again? His heart sank as M/N started crying. Seeing him so broken made Jay's chest tighten with guilt and sadness. Jay can't contain himself to stand while watching you in this state; he was the one who caused this after all.

Unexpectedly, you were surprised to see him wrap his hand around you before pulling you into a tight hug. Listening to your sobbing was enough for him to bury himself alive in the graveyard. He wanted to wash all his sins away for having wounded you; if he could go back in time, he'd sacrifice anything just to keep you close

once again.

"Let's rewrite our story hm ? I'll be a better man from now on. I promise there'll be fewer tears in your eyes, pretty. I'll love you till the day that i die "

🗣️ Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️ dividers: Thecutestgrotto and crd to all the pic owner..

Thanks for this pookie 😽❤️ IWALY!!!!

170 notes · View notes

srjlvr · 1 year

Text

SEVEN ROYALTIES

7 brothers. 7 new kings. 7 new thrones. 7 love stories.

note. im a bit early to do this, but we’re getting closer to 1.5k followers so i decided to drop it! i cant believe i am able to reach this amount of followers honestly! this is a special series to show you how thankful i am. i wouldn’t be here without y’all.

THE seven brothers of hybe’s kingdom will be getting each a new throne and kingdom of their own to rule, and each one gets a love story of his own too.

GENREs will be included in each member’s story and so are the WARNINGS and WORD-COUNTS.

TAG-LIST ; i’ll consider this tag-list to all members, send me an ask or comment on this post if you’d like to join.

PERM TAG-LIST ; @sungwhoonz , @ohdudehesflirting

lee heeseung x fem!reader genre: strangers to lovers , commoner and a royal , fluff , angst ! warnings: loads of curse words.

you always knew your short temper will be a disadvantage, but you never thought that moment will happen when it came to a royal blood.

“watch where you’re going!” you yelled at the person who just bumped into you, “my apologies madam, perhaps i can offer you some sweet cookies as an apology?” he smiled.

you laughed at the nickname and the cute offer, “people don’t offer here cookies just because they want to apologize, are you new in town?”

he then shook his head, “you keep your things to yourself if you don’t want people to keep asking you for favors”

you ran before the person could even reply, “didn’t she realize who is she talking to?”

STATUS posted!

park jay x fem!reader genre: arranged marriage , one sided love at first , angst , fluff ! warnings: curse words , mentions of food (nothing serious, just dinner breakfast and all) , uhh dunno if it’s really a warning but just a rude behavior.

it’s been a few months since your huge wedding held in the castle, “i’ve married to you only because of the fact that i need to marry off to someone to get the throne” your newly husband groaned.

he’s been telling you the same sentence each time you remind him that you’re actually a married couple.

you’ve been taking care of him when he got sick, made him meals and even did most of the laundry, regardless of the fact that you have tons of servants.

jay has been ignoring you all day and all night ever since you first met, even ordered that you must have separated rooms.

but all it took for him to understand that he so longed for you, is to see you walk away. now, he’s determined to bring you back and love you all over again.

STATUS posted!

sim jake x fem!reader genre: strangers to lovers , fake relationship , he fell first but she fell harder , runaway royals , fluff , angst ! warnings: mentions of pregnancy(nothing serious i promise trust me) , mentions of food (not specifically, just meals).

your beauty is beyond compare, and you know that. your parents knows that too. which is why they’ve been forcing you to go on dates with filthy princes who wants nothing but to use you and your beauty as a trophy.

you hate that, being treated as an object in the eyes of other people. so you ran away. where? you didn’t know, but you packed your bag and left the house in the late late hours.

what you didn’t expect however, was to get caught by another runaway prince.

“who are you?” you suspiciously asked. “i’m sorry madam, let me introduce myself, i’m sim jake, hybe’s-“

“hybe’s prince” you gasped, “and you are?” he shrugged off the fact that you just cut him in the middle of the sentence.

“i’m l/n y/n—“ “the runaway princess?”

STATUS posted!

park sunghoon x fem!reader genre: childhood friends to enemies to lovers , one sided love somewhere into the story , heavy angst , fluff ! warnings: character’s death (not a main character) , curse words.

sunghoon has everything, wealth, power, a throne. but none of these matters when he can’t have you by his side.

“i hate you, park sunghoon” you spit out, nothing but hate is in your fierce glance at him. he just chuckled, “you don’t mean that”

“oh i do,” you nodded, “and i’m only doing it because i promised her it’ll happen”

“looking back at that promise, i realize why you used to believe that promises are stupid” you added.

“i’m sorry” he apologized, “sorry isn’t going to change anything, is it?”

STATUS posted!

kim sunoo x fem!reader genre: mistakenly falling in love , strangers to lovers , fluff , a bit of angst ! warnings: none atm.

the ballroom was full with young royals who are there the celebrate ni-ki’s birthday, the youngest out of the seven brothers.

it was a NO ADULTS party and therefore, the king and the queen ( aka the parents ) tried to describe him who is he going to marry. it was a pretty obvious force marriage.

“you’ll know it when you see her, she’s awfully pretty” they said.

“i’m l/n y/n” you introduced yourself with a curtsy, sunoo took your hand and kissed the back of it, “you look awfully pretty, y/n”

“oh! her name is minju!” right after the party, the queen and the king reminded sunoo that the girl he’s off to marry is named minju.

STATUS posted!

yang jungwon x fem!reader genre: childhood friends to lovers , promised to marry , fluff , angst ! warnings: mentions of food , pregnancy i think , maybe curse words (do lmk if i missed something!!)

you’ve known jungwon ever since you can remember. his castle is considered your second home and your castle is considered his second home.

you were pretty confident in your friendship, until you became teenagers and things started to fade away between you two.

he knows you’re promised to him, so why was he so unconfident about it when he saw you talking to other princes?

and you know he’s promised to you, so why do you feel like crying when he’s being introduced to other princesses as well?

STATUS posted!

nishimura riki x fem!reader genre: troublemakers falling in love , strangers to lovers , dumb and dumber relationship , fluff , angst ! warnings: none atm.

you were some kind of the black sheep in your family, always breaking rules and doing what you’re clearly not supposed to do. you love your freedom.

you heard about a prince who’s just exactly as you are, and you’re more than eager to meet him.

“are you…?” in one of your usual sneak outs, you bumped into a familiar face, “am i…?” he mocked.

“never mind” you shrugged, “i thought you were nishimura riki”

“i thought you’re l/n y/n” he chuckled, it was too dark for the both of you to see each other. “so who are you?” you asked, “nishimura riki, you?”

“l/n y/n”

STATUS coming soon!!

1K notes · View notes

shypen · 1 month

Text

ㅤ — ༿ີ۪۪ ͏ ͏ r3al!ty ㅤ ⠀⠀𓋜‎ 𝒫JS

𝓈ynopsis . you love playing games, he loves playing games, its perfect right? but what’ll happen when jay’s intense game addiction gets in the way of your relationship? the irritating sound of clicking buttons on the controllers. its basically all you and jay ever did, play play and play. trying to spend quality time with him in any other way is almost impossible, its ruining your relationship. so much so you have to help him with his hallucinations, eventually getting so bad he has a difficult time differentiating between game and r3al!ty. ✧‎ ‎ ㅤ𝑔enre . angst , fluff , comedy (i tried) , enemies to lovers 3.6k

a.n :: for kam ara rain jazz and lissie (are you happy now.)

𝓅airings . gamer!jay x gamer!reader 𝓌arnings . bl00d (sorree!!) , st@bbing , g4ns , ++

req status :: taking requests ^-^

reminder . everything here is FICTIONAL, meaning NOTHING HERE IS REAL! these things never happened. if u dont like my work dont read it pls and ty !

“on your left—” heeseung yells, the clicking of you and his controllers filling the room. multiple ‘pew’ noises come out of the tv’s speakers. ‘game over’ text appears on the tv on your side. “you didnt warn me early enough,” you speak through gritted teeth, turning toward your brother. "you looked too late," heeseung fights back, making direct eye contact with you. you groan in frustration. "whatever. another game?" you ask, getting ready to click on the 'play again?' option. he shakes his head, getting up from the floor. "it's late, ill go sleep," he yawns, stretching. you chuckle and nod, waving goodbye to him as he exits your room.

you, however, are not tired in the slightest. you were determined to atleast get one win that night, even if you hear birds outside. you start up a new game, readjusting your headphones. you clutch the controller in your hand as the game starts to countdown. immediately as the 'go' text appears you start to gain power ups for future enemies. as you were about to grab another power up, your screen color turns gray, on the side some red text. "jongpro0313 has killed you. respawn?" you shrugged it off. "no big deal," you told yourself, respawning. you won't shrug it off anymore. every. single. time. each round he kills you atleast 50 or more times, the same 'jongpro0313' person. your knuckles turn white from gripping the controller each time you see the same exact game over screen. no matter how much you try to kill him back it's no use. is he using aimbot or something? why is he targetting me?

"1 unread message - new chat. open?"

you click the accept button. "jongpro0313: lol u kinda suck ngll soz the final straw. "ynnetta180: what did i do dude" "jongpro0313: just playing the game sweetheart ;)" you scoff at the message. you spot him afk in a hiding spot and you chuckle, aiming at him and finally killing him, making him lose his streak. grabbing his loot, another game over screen appears. "jongpro0313 has killing you. respawn?" "jongpro0313: could only kill me once i was afk. how cute" that made your blood boil. "jongpro0313 has sent you a friend request. accept or decline." is that man crazy? decline, of course.. "accepted." oh youve gotta be joking me. "jongpro0313: accepted my friend request? what, are you expecting some aiming lessons, darling? lolll ur funny" "ynnetta180 has left the game." fighting the strong urge to bash your head against a wall and throwing your controller, you take deep breaths before climbing onto your bed, grabbing your phone and checking the time. "4:27 AM" you're used to it by now. placing your headset and phone on your nightstand, your eyelids start to get heavy, automatically closing, drifting off into a peaceful sleep. if only that was the case. you tossed and turned all night, doubting your skills as you get flashbacks about the countless times youve gotten endlessly killed by one. person. you snatch your phone, logging into your account and searching the exact username targeting you all night. (technically day). "search: jongpro0313" "bio: name: jay / jongseong seattle area im too goated" you scroll down to view all of the achievements he obtained the whole time he's been playing, and goodness, he is goated. you gulp as your scroll through all of his whopping 7,581 badges. you click off his profile.

the agitating melody of chirping birds can be heard through your window, giving you a migraine. you jump once you hear your brother's alarm originally set for 7:00 am. you groan, clearing your throat. "HEESEUNG WAKE UP," you yell, banging on your bedroom wall so he hears you. "IF YOU BREAK THE WALL I'M NOT PAYING," he yells back, immediately hearing a loud thud after. out of concern, you sprint to his room, opening the door and seeing your brother laying on the floor, drool coming out from the corner of his mouth and his hair overly messy. "you seriously fell from the-" you get interrupted by the sound of his loud snoring, honestly impressed by how fast he falls asleep. unless he's unconscious. you walk over to him and crouch down, tugging on his arm. "gross, you're drooling. get up."

heeseung groans, fluttering his eyes open. "fine, i'll make your breakfast in a sec.." you squeal a quick, "thanks, hee!" dropping his arm and skipping happily back to your room, shutting the door. "you're seriously not gonna help me off the floor, y/n.."

your eyes lighten up seeing the smoothie bowls heeseung lays on the table, snatching them almost immediately. "thank you, heeseung!!" you exclaim. he mumbles out weak a 'welcome,' sitting next to you. about to take a bite, your phone starts to buzz. not just buzz, but blow up. so much so that you're surprised your phone isnt overheating. "messages kamryujin poo!! GIRLL CHECK TWITTER RIGHT. NOW."

"messages jazztomatoes <3 HAVE YOU HEARD?" "messages ara ara ara ^-^ DID YOU CHECK TWITTER TODAY?" "messages rainy rain reyna ( = . = ) ARE YOU COMING TO THE COMPETITION TOO??" competition?

your search history is now filled with every detail about the competition, your eyes glued to your phone even as you place your bowl in the sink. "aren't you gonna wash your dis- oh, okay i guess ill do all the work," heeseung glares at your as you walk to your room, not even glancing at where you’re looking.

“upcoming call from: ara ara ara ^-^”

accept.

“your coming, right?” your friend ara exclaims. “waitwaitwait how does it work though?” you scratch your head. “ummm basically players come together and randomly partner people up, competing til the best players go one on one im pretty sure..” she mutters. you nod and smile. “sure. ill go. do you know how to participate for it?”

“yeah, of course, the thirdwheel gc is coming too,” ara giggles. “wait, rain, kam, jazz, and you??” “yupp. if we have to go against each other i’ll cry but the chances of us being partnered up is low depending on the people participating.”

“aaah got it. ill sign up for it! byeee,” you both say your goodbyes. you turn your phone on again, the time reading “7:53 am Saturday”

you twist your doorknob open to talk to heeseung, aggressively swinging his door open. you find him in the bathroom, warming up the water for a shower. “what do you want..” he groans, still grumpy from the dishes incident. “do you think you could drive me here on wednesday?” you show him the map on your phone leading to the competition. “you can drive yourself, just borrow my car,” heeseung sighs, beginning to take off his shirt. your hands immediately fly up to hover over your eyes. “not in front of me you weirdo,” you say, turning back and running out of his room, hearing his menacing laugh fading away as you do.

_________________________________________________________

“let me check you,” the security guard says, an australian accent pooling out. scanning you for any dangerous items for confirmation before handing you a participants pass. “enter,” he mumbles, and you smile. before you enter the building, you catch a glimpse of his nametag: “sim jaeyun.”

the inside is spacious, tons of people crowding certain booths, etc, the booths there to keep people entertained as they wait for the competition to start. let’s just say your car broke down as you were driving, sooo you were a teensyy bit late. but you arrived just in time for the competition to begin.

they seat you down next to a randomized partner, a big projector screen in front of both of you. its usage? to display the game as you both play. you both are given controllers, immediately beginning the game which completely catches you off guard. looks like your partner is even more caught off guard, the ‘game over’ screen showing on their side.

it continues on like this, a few tough opponents but you make it through a lot of the rounds. you’re now given a brief intermission, some time to get water or practice even more. you decide on water, after all, you’ve beaten every opponent already, right?

“last players y/n and jay go up!” you hear someone say from a megaphone. it blares in your ears, you flinch slightly and immediately start to run back to the chairs. you take a seat, your opponent already next to you. “last round. users?”

you try to keep your composure when you hear “last round.” last round? as in you and the boy next to you are finalists?

“hey,” your opponent nudges your shoulder. “he asked for your username, doll.”

“o-oh, sorry. ynnetta180,” you stutter out, from the corner of your eye you spot your opponent smiling to himself. the staff press the start option, counting you both down. almost automatically, you start to rapidly press and click buttons, trying your best to shoot your opponent. until something caught your eye.

“nametag: jongpro0313”

oh you’ve gotta be kidding me

he’s obviously gonna win, right?

“hey— what are you doing..” you stop pressing buttons to turn your head at him. he leans on his chair, hands behind his head. “you can only kill me when i’m afk, right? go on,” he insists. you roll your eyes as you kill him in game, eyes not leaving his. he gets up from the chair as you follow. “good job,” he extends his hand toward you. you nod and grab his hand, shaking. "we've met before, haven't we?" "yeah, you gave me free kills yesterday," he chuckles. you and his hands are still intertwined, he uses it to walk away from the competition site with you, after all, crowds are too overwhelming. plus, the prize is automatically mailed, you aren't required to stay around for long.

"why'd you just let me win like that.." you ask him and he turns his head to you. "i've won for last years competition, i felt like there was no need in winning it two years in a row so i wanted to give a chance to my opponent, didn't know you'd be the opponent though," he scoffs playfully. "jay," he stops walking, letting go of your hand. you smile at him. "y/n. you live by here?" "yeah, over at xxxx xxxx street, visit me sometime," he replies, hands in his pockets as he walks away to one of the booths in the building. you brush it off and walk back home. once again you hope that was the case. you collapse onto your bed and start to kick your feet, grabbing a pillow beside you to scream in. heeseung walks in your room, a concerned expression on his face. "GET OUTTTUH," you whine, throwing the pillow that you just screamed in at him. "GOODNESS FINE... whats your deal today, gee.." he closes your door and you immediately grab your pillow back, screaming muffled by it. theres no denying he was HANDSOME, no questions there. not only is he hot, his voice also sent chills down your spine. of course you wouldn't tell heeseung that, he hates you talking to boys.

"1 new unread message from jongpro0313. open?" your eye widen as you stare at your phone screen from across the room, immediately tossing the poor pillow on the floor for the second time, bolting to your phone. you type your password in and open the message. of course, you forgot you accepted his friend request. jongpro0313 "hey, did you get home safe?" ynnetta180 "yess thanks for asking, you?" jongpro0313 "yeah" jongpro0313 "xxx-xxx-xxxx" ynnetta180 "whats that for" jongpro0313 "my number sweetheart" it takes every power of your being to not scream at the top of your lungs right now. its like your hands move by themselves, copy and pasting the number jay gave. you grab another pillow from your bed and clutch it tight, texting him a 'hey.' you two talked all night, even playing a few games on call too. jay and you ended the night with "ill teach you how i play tomorrow okay? visit me," "okay. goodnight jay!" and so you did, the next thing you know you're knocking on his door with 3 bags of chips in your hands. he opens the door with a toothbrush in his mouth, hair all over the place, and tired eyes. "i told you to visit me but not visit me this early.." he's muffled by the toothbrush in his mouth. he's right. it was 6 am. "deal with it," you giggle, making your way in his house. you set the snacks down on his kitchen counter. "whatever, i'll just brush my teeth again.." jay walks back to his bathroom.

you open up his fridge to see if he has some soda, and thankfully he does. you grab the cans and set it on the counter along with the bags. you rip open one of the bags and take a bite of a chip, justtt a little bit while you wait for jay. fortunately, you arrived and knocked on his door midway through him brushing his teeth, so he emerges out of the bathroom pretty quickly. “cmon, ill teach you how to play,” he smiles, heading to the couch. this is the first time you get a good glimpse of his side profile, his jaw is so sharp its identical to a knife. you walk over to the couch, plopping on it. “i know how to play, its just.. you aim like a bot.”

“is that an insult or a compliment,” he chuckles, grabbing two controllers, tossing one to you. “half and half, and thanks,” you hold back your smile as he starts up the game.

the presses a button causing the round to immediately start, and you freeze in surprise before actually moving around.

during the match, you two help each other. jay’s “on your left,”’s and “on your right,”’s help a lot. during intermission, his warm hands take hold of yours, guiding you and teaching you where to aim your crosshair.

you couldn’t lie to yourself no matter what you did, but you felt some butterflies floating around in your stomach whenever his hands held yours. you two ended the night with a wave goodbye, and you walk back to your house. loud buzzer sound. you ended up staying up with jay til 3:42 am. figuring its too late to drive back to your place, he offers a sleepover. you reluctantly accept, which leads to you waking up in his arms. a red hue flushes your cheeks, trying to pry his hands off but he's sound asleep. you end up waiting 'til he wakes up. you get home later that day with jay walking you, but that ends up not going so well once you see your brother's aggravated face. "where have you been, your breakfast is cold," he says sternly. "i was out, calm down.." you reply, setting your jacket on the coat rack. "yeah, out with a boy. who is he?" "heeseung literally calm down its just a friend i made at the competition," you sigh, kneeling down to take your shoes off. "i'll see about that," heeseung walks to the front door, opening it to find jay, but all he sees is jay waving bye to him and driving off with a cheeky smile, and heeseungs eyebrows furrow. "is he atleast good to you.." he shuts the front door. you take off your shoes, nodding. "yeah, he is." "I KNEW YOU WERE DATING HIM," he points at you, wide bambi eyed. "NO IM NOT LEAVE ME ALONE," you fight the urge to throw your shoe at him. "yeah yeah sure whatever you say," he crosses his arms, watching you run to your room. from that day you and jay start to talk and hangout a lot more, something you never thought you would do back when he kept killing you. the day that him and heeseung met was.. interesting to say the least but hey, heeseung approved of him! (barely)

you and jay are dating now. everythings perfect. atleast it was.

of course you two are game addicts, right? but thats the one thing thats ruining your relationship.

“jay, spend some time with me,” you place a hand on his arm, only for him to pull away, eyes glued to the screen. “one more round,” he always says, it’s so frustrating, and yet you always deal with it. you love him too much to lose him, but you feel as if your insignificant. you two barely hang out anymore because of how much he plays video games, you’d say it’s cause he likes video games too much, but deep down, you don’t think thats the case. this is a severe addiction.

it’s to the point where he basically never goes outside, you have to go out and grab him groceries and run errands for him.

it’s time to have a talk. "jay.. honeyyy... can we talk for a bit?" you approach the couch, tapping on your boyfriend's shoulder. "hm," he nods his head, not even making eye contact with you. agitated, you grab his controller and hit pause on his gamematch. he turns to you, eyebrows furrowed. "what was that for?" "we need to have a talk. like right now," you sit down next to him. "can it wait? cmonn, i brought new gear."

as much as your tempted to play with him, you stop yourself, reminding your mind about your goal. "can we go out together, jay? it's been so long.." you sigh, tugging on his hand gently. "honey, you know i dont like-" "pleasee" you tug on his arm harder, and surprisingly, he finally gives in. that was all in your head. you give in and he hands you new controllers, and you grab his extra set of headphones. "1 round only, okay? then we'll have that talk," you blurt, eyes staring intently at the tv screen. "yeah, yeah.. start it up," jay replies and you click the start button. it's perfect—it feels like when you two first met, playing at his house. the game not only has guns, but also recently added knives. it's been so long since you played, maybe about a month. the new feature shocks you, and each intermission after every round you buy new knife crates to unlock new knives. thankfully, you still have your skills despite the lack of playing, and it feels like you time travelled. it's been a year since you and jay have started dating, and you eventually got tired of staring at the screen all day, which is how you two have grown distant. this round, the theme are teams. the blue and red team, you and jay are unfortunately in separate teams, but you guys promise to avoid each other at all costs, killing all of your teammates and his instead. jay however, had different plans. he plans on pranking you, harmlessly killing you once so you lose your streak. on the left? no.. on the right? no sight of you either. he has an xray ability. he uses it to locate you and you're hiding behind a wall, using a glitch you found within the map not so long ago. unfortunately for you, jay realizes what you did. he sneaks up from behind, the animation of being stabbed playing on your screen. jay laughs, on the side noticing a "friend kill" text appearing on screen. "that was funny," he chuckles, expecting to get a reply only to be met with silence. "right, y/n?" "y/n?" "y/n..?" sirens.

everything flashes. the atmosphere is dark, overwhelming, overly foggy and cloudy, the high humidity adding to the discomfort. the darkness and fog contributing to a sense of claustrophobia. jay’s head is swirling with questions, the pitter patter of rain hitting the hard cement interrupting his thoughts. everythings dark, but the dim light from a neon sign of a building nearby illuminates the alleyway, including his knife he left in your stomach, the concrete below you stained with blood. red and blue hues approach behind jay, only noticing it when he gains his composure and realizing what's going on. that the gaming match you two just played wasn't a game. the blaring sirens behind jay didn't matter to him as he drops to his knees at the sight of you. everything felt empty. it was just a game it was just a game it was a harmless prank it was a harmless prank its not my fault its not my fault its not my fault its not my fault but is it his fault. screaming shouting and resisting when he feels the handcuffs wrap around his wrists, yelling his sorries and and desperation as he sees the life leave your precious eyes he always used to adore. apparently he didnt adore enough of it as he won't even see that same life in your eyes again.

taglist:: @kwanholic @quhrtz @jenos-eye-smiles @hmusunoo (HAPPY BIRTHDAY) @st1llm0nster @hursheys @lonelybutterflytae @vveebee @taehyunsthings @kim2005bomi @engentiny

#jay #kpop #kpopidol #kpop fanfics #kpop fanfictions #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #enhypen #enhypen imagine #enhypen angst #angst #kpop angst #jay angst #jay enhypen angst #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfics #enhypen fanfictions #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines

73 notes · View notes

luminiscented · 10 months

Note

could you make hcs for ninja [+ pixal, morro and harumi] and their ideas for their s/o? i love your work sm,<3

ninjago characters x their perfect gn! s/o

----------------------------------------------------------

Pairing: Ninjago characters x gn! Reader

Status: none

Summary: The perfect partners of each character (mentioned above)

Warnings: none

Type: headcanons

Note: I'm sorry if Harumi is a bit ooc!! I haven't really watched a lot after seasons 7 and 8!! Thank you for the request though!! IM VERY SORRY ABOUT THE DELAY!! IT'S EXAM SEASON AND I'VE BEEN HAVING SOME PERSONAL PROBLEMS!! :((

Lloyd

♡ Lloyd has a very unstable life, so I'm sure at one point he'll crave a partner who's very down to earth, but still has that kid in them!!

♡ Despite him being a warrior and a leader, Lloyd is very fragile. He can take just that much stress and hurt so he'd need you to be his safe space.

♡ In my eyes he'd need someone careful and gentle, but still someone who could be a kid along with him,,, someone who's willing to stay despite everything and listen to him. Someone to take him in their arms and shush him sweetly whenever the pressure gets too much,,

♡ Kai is a very outgoing, confident, fiery person, but behind closed doors he lets himself be the exact opposite. I see him having a partner that is ready to accept both of his sides,,

Kai

♡ I honestly see him dating a chill confident person who rolls their eyes at his pick up lines, but in the same time I see him having a s/o who's a bit nerdy and their eyes just light up whenever their favorite topic is brought up,, he's over there lovestruck while you gawk about your fixation,,,,

♡ Reassurment is constant with Kai - from both ends of the relationship and it means the world to him that for once he could get taken care of instead of always being the older brother, the caregiver, the parent

♡ YOUR SUPPORT WOULD KEEP HIM GOING!!!!

Cole

♡ A very simple, very very sweet guy, so I think an equally sweet s/o would definitely catch his attention!!

♡ If you have a thing for cooking, you're already his biggest crush

♡ I see Cole as a touchy person and he would def love it if your love language was physical touch and acts of service

♡ He's used to being the muscle of the team, always doing the heavy lifting, so it would be a relief to get pampered and taken care of after a tough mission,, he would melt if you took the time to tend to every scar,,,,,

♡ A sweet chill s/o would definitely be the perfect pick, since I think he would value stability a lot in his life.

Zane

♡ Zane's perfect match would be someone very patient and gentle!!

♡ He'd love a partner who's just as curious as him and someone who's willing to be patient with him,,,he doesn't have a very good grasp on all things romantic, but he's trying his best!!

♡ Zane really loves quality time over everything else!!

♡ Zane would be head over heels in love with someone who's very intelligent and interesting!! Bonus points if you're an artistic person,,,he tries his best to understand art and he enjoys it a lot!!

♡ He'd love a S/o who loves cooking or trying out new food, also one who loves to go out on small private romantic dates!! It's his type of thing, but he would be open to a slightly different type of outing if that's what you're into.

Jay

♡ He'd love a very energetic s/o who's just like him!! If you're into tech and stuff he'll be over the moon!!!!!

♡ Jay loves a sweetheart who could comfort him and reassure him that he isn't too much and that he's doing a good job,,

♡ If his s/o is into poetry he'd be smitten,,,yes of course he wants to hear what you wrote,,,,,

♡ Jay is the type of guy to want a very dynamic relationship with a lot of fun and surprises and dates!! He's always thinking of ways to surprise you and make you feel appreciated!!

♡ Physical touch and gift giivng are his love language!! Prepare to be smothered in kisses on a daily basis and have a ton of handmade gifts!!

Morro

♡ He is in denial to the very end.

♡ He isn't very vocal about his love, but he's like a puppy trust me,,

♡ Morro'd love a peaceful s/o,,, someone who could balance his temper out and keep him down to the ground. A calm partner would definitely be his best match. He would be very passionate in his love, just like Kai, so he'd appreciate a bit of spice as well.

♡ He's very into intelligence!! He is also head over heels for some confidence and cockiness.

♡ Morro pretends he's a very tough unlovable guy even after getting reformed, but the truth is that he's fragile. He's been that way ever since he was a kid, so he's not going to trust you with his emotions in the beginning. He needs constant reassurement even if he doesn't say a word about it. You need to pick up the subtle signs by yourself if you want to figure out what's with the change in his behavior.

♡ Make him his favorite dish, give him some cheek and chest kisses and some kind words and he's not going to leave your arms for the rest of the day. Make him feel appreciated and enough and it's going to be returned tenfold.

♡ This man will adore every single thing you do.

♡ Quiet dates are his thing, even if it's just laying in bed cuddling he's there and fully engaged. He'd love a fancy date tho,, you get a bit from both worlds.

♡ Quality time and physical touch are Morro's type of thing, his hand is always around you - rubbing your shoulder, holding your hand etc. His hand is on your waist outside and you're always getting kisses on the top of your head.

Pixal

♡ If Pix is in a relationship, she'd be fully invested, so she'd want a partner who's fully engaged as well.

♡ Her projects and work are very important to her, but you always come first.

♡ Pixal would be the type to fall for a person that takes interest into her own interests, or if it isn't their type of thing, pay attention to her, ask her questions, try to engage, show interest and she's going to appreciate you sm!!

♡ Her love language is gift giving and acts of service, but she's going to melt for some sweet words and reassurement!!! Sucker for pillow talk!!

♡ I feel like she'd love physical affection as well, especially cuddles!! Stroke her head and kiss her cheeks while letting her feel your body warmth and pixal will be so happy!!,,

Harumi

♡ She WILL treasure you and adore you every day!! Fresh flowers included!!

♡ She's pretentious and bratty and no one can truly please her you're perfect how are you doing this

♡ She's going to be protective of you, surely.

♡ She'd love to do things for you to express her love, since I think she isn't going to be the best with words - cleaning your room, doing your makeup, making you food, memorizing your medicine or your hair products etc etc.

♡ She'd be head over heels if you made her home cooked meals,,,,Harumi would love a partner who celebrates all her accomplishments with her and also one who looks after her even if she pretends she doesn't want to be,,, she's fussy, but painfully in love whenever you take care of her bruises or fix her makeup if it's smeared before she goes out,,,just little things like that make her day better,,<3

238 notes · View notes

rafesapologist · 1 year

Text

the set up — rafe cameron; part seven

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

warnings: swearing as usual, fighting, angst, jj being a dick

author's note: so sorry for the slight delay in uploading this chapter. a bunch of stuff occurred in my personal life and tbh i didn't have the energy to do much after. however i will make up the delay and rushing this chapter a bit to you all in the next one, promise. love u

Sunlight pierced through the panels of the spacious, unaccustomed room as the sounds of a dawn chorus filled the tranquil silence that had filled the air amongst the pair of sleeping bodies that occupied the queen sized bed, belonging to you and Rafe. You found annoyance in the intensity of the sun's lurid rays of light that burned through your shut eyelids, acknowledging them with a small groan that escaped your lips as you turned your back to face the window instead.

Your heart nearly stopped when you felt the mattress move besides you as the broad figure lying behind you shifted, only to make the beating inside your chest pick up when you began to feel a brawny arm drape itself over your side and across your stomach steadily. Your body had unconsciously laid in place at the feeling of the sudden embrace, an act of intimacy you had rarely experienced in your life before that rendered you slightly uncomfy with the gesture, as physical touch was not your highest on the list of love languages that existed.

You remained a recumbent statue in the arms of the Cameron's son as you contemplated within your internal dialogue on how to remove yourself from the position you were in all while taking in the final moments of serenity as you basked in the comfort of the cozy bed, a contrast to the one you usually found yourself sleeping in at the chateau.

Eventually, you brought yourself to speak after regaining your voice from the prolonged period of time you went without using your vocal cords. "Rafe?" You whispered sheepishly as you gently turned to face the slumbering boy, poking his bicep lightly in hopes that he was a light-sleeper and that it would be useful in waking him, but much to your despair, it didn't.

"Rafe." You muttered once again, this time your voice had taken a greater, harsher resonance.

"Hmm?" Rafe hummed, a husky low-vibrato tone strumming from the back of his throat that was shamefully music to your ears.

"I gotta get going. Jay and John B want me to go boating with them today and I promised them I'd go." You explained meekly.

Rafe seemed to take interest in your statement, judging by the way he peeked a single eye open to look at you. "Tell them something came up." He carped, scooting his body closer to you once more as his hold became tighter around your figure, one that was much more petite in comparison to his broadness.

"Rafe," you groaned as you rolled your eyes at his stubborn nature, "you know I can't do that."

"I know," he groaned to himself, "you've got your Pogue duties to uphold."

You swatted his arm in response which quickly brought him out of his comatose-like state, his eyes flashing open as he looked directly at you with an appearance of bafflement written across his face. You giggled quietly to yourself at his comical reaction, taking amusement in the way that he was in shock by your comeback. Your body began to shift and wiggle underneath Rafe's arm in an attempt to free yourself from his grip, but unfortunately, he was much stronger than you had imagined.

"Wait," Rafe stated as he held your feeble body in place, "I wanted to ask you something before you leave."

"Ask me what?" You furrowed your brows at him.

"It's probably a little soon to even ask this, but there's nobody else I really want to take besides you," he began, watching your expression closely as his eyes flickered between your lips and irises as he traced gentle lines along the exposed part of your hip, "and since it's coming up I don't think there's a better time to ask.." He trailed off, breaking eye contact before he could finish.

"Would you go to Midsummers with me?" It was almost too perfect of a scenario when you heard those words come out of Rafe's mouth, unaware to what situation he had just got himself into. You practically screamed internally once the realization finally hit you that you were going in the right direction with the unsuspecting Kook, just as you and your friends had planned for. You felt a subtle smirk tug at the corners of your mouth as you basked in the bliss of knowing that Rafe Cameron was beginning to unshield himself to you, an accomplishment that you knew the Pogues would feel joyous to hear. You knew right then that you had to take full advantage of the opportunity basically handed right to you on a silver platter, and run with it.

"Of course I will."

"Wai-What? You will?" Rafe's azure pigmented eyes widened in shock, failing to grasp your willing compliance that had come so easily.

"Yes," you chuckled with an attitude full of gaiety, "of course I will." You figured you'd add to the moment of sentiment by leaning forward to press a light kiss to the apple of Rafe's cheek, which soon become painted over with a rosy tint as evidence of the heat that rose to the skin as the aftermath of experiencing your touch.

"Okay awesome," the elated Kook grinned as he patted your hip softly, "Sarah is going too, and I know you guys are friends or whatever, so if you want you can always go dress shopping with her."

"What color is your suit?" You asked.

"Baby blue, which I'm sure you'll look hot in as you always do. Gonna be hard to keep my hands off you when I see you in a dress." Rafe teased, his thumb had began easing its way underneath the hem of your t-shirt, rubbing against the warm skin of your hipbone slowly.

"You're gonna have to control yourself then, Cameron. I don't want your dad thinking I'm some whore you picked up at the Cut." You bantered back at him, removing his hand off of your bare skin and causing him to pout in response.

"Well, my dad knows I wouldn't step foot in that shit hole. So I think you'd be safe from those allegations." Rafe smirked just before he reached over behind you to smack your ass playfully, removing himself off the bed before you could even begin, let alone attempt, to retaliate.

"Lets go, princess. I'll drive you where you need to go."

"Didn't you just say you wouldn't step foot in the Cut?" You retorted with your arms folded across your chest, glaring over at the boy with your brows furrowed in judgement.

"I guess doing it for you would suffice."

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Rafe kept his word by dropping you off at the boating dock as you waited for your friends arrival, taking you in by surprise when he peppered an array of small kisses to the top of your shoulder before you got out of the car. The affectionate, soft side of him came as a shock to you considering he was so austere and gelid with others from what you had seen of him since the day you two met. You wondered to yourself if it was his way of buttering girls up to get something out of them, or that he truly had taken a liking to you. Either ways it didn't matter, because you were only playing along for one reason.

The Pogues.

"John B! JJ!" You shouted as the sight of a familiar-looking boat came into your view and approached the dock. You were pleased as the faces of the two boys on it became clearer to you, confirming that it actually was your two friends.

"Y/n, hey!" John B yelled back as he waved in your direction, a welcoming smile plastered on his face.

"Well look at that, you actually showed up!" JJ called from beside your brunette friend, his affable demeanor causing you to feel giddy and your heart flutter. You shook your head at the blond's foolishness, giggling as you hopped onto the boat and greeted the two who you had missed dearly, despite seeing them within the 48 hours prior.

"You think I would rather spend my time with some Kook than you guys? That's hilarious, Jay."

"I dunno, you've been spending a lot more time with him lately. Have you two fallen in love yet?" John B added, egging on for your attitude to make its presence shown.

"First of all, never. Second of all, if you forgot this was your guys' idea in the first place. I wouldn't have even looked at him twice if it wasn't for you all." You sighed, crouching down to reach for one of the beer cans that the boys usually kept in the cooler.

"That's my girl." JJ replied as he approached you from behind, wrapping an arm over your shoulder once you stood up from the cooler. You found yourself smiling at his words of endearment, partially basking in the way that he praised you like no other. If there was one thing JJ was good at, it was hyping you up and making you feel special, something he took pride in doing whenever he was around you. Your mutual friends found it strange, the way that you two were so seemingly affectionate with one another yet never once brought up the idea of formally dating. You'd be lying if you had said you never pondered on the thought of what it would be like to be with JJ Maybank, your best friend since childhood and the first boy you kissed back in elementary school. You imagined that it would be easy if it were him who you ended up with. You pictured a future of you coming home from a long day at work and being lavished in his soft kisses and warm embrace that would feel like home in itself. But you knew that it was also risky, the idea of two Pogues getting involved in some romantic entanglement that would likely only shake up the state of your friend group.

But you still wondered nevertheless, even if you knew you wouldn't dare act on it.

"You guys will be proud of what I did, though." You announced, quickly capturing the attention of the Pogue boys with a muddled look on their faces.

"What did you do?" JJ eagerly asked as he stared down at you while he awaited your next statement.

"Rafe asked me to go to midsummers with him and I said yes." You answered, a smug smile forming across your chapstick-glazed lips as you tilted your head back to take a sip of the rather distasteful beer.

"You're kidding. Are you being serious, y/n? Holy shit." John B promulgated his shock shamelessly, impenitent on his excitement towards the success of the Pogues' plan on exploiting Rafe Cameron through his desires and urges in order to gain the necessary information from him. Everyone had figured you would be the best decoy in order to reach the Kook Prince himself, but they had never expected her would crumble so fast and effortlessly.

You took notice of the way that JJ's energy had faltered all of the sudden, him practically becoming mute in a matter of seconds after you had announced your victory. You frowned at his silence, expecting for him to be the one to celebrate the matter with you, but instead it seemed as though he was tangled up in a deep thought.

"Jay, what's wrong?" You whispered to the blond in a hushed tone that was barely audibly to surrounding individuals, such as John B.

"Yeah I'm okay." JJ vacillated.

"Don't lie, I can tell them something is wrong." You asked, insistant that there was more to it than JJ was letting out.

"Just drop it, y/n. I'm alright. Can you just live with that?" His austerity took you by surprise, a stark contrast to JJ's normally frivolous attitude. You peered up at him as you surveyed the look on his face, trying to draw a conclusion about whatever it was that he was feeling in that moment. You were left with little to no answers as to where his head was at, seeming as though he was masking his emotions as he tended to do when he was feeling vulnerable. However, you did catch a glimpse of the way he winced momentarily, his face washing over in subtle agony for a brief second before returning back to its previous state.

"Are you.. hurt? You observed the cue that suggested JJ was in some state of discomfort.

JJ responded rather satirically with a dry laugh, disconnecting his gaze from yours as he began to advert his view towards the floor of the boat.

"Don't know," he shrugged, "ask Rafe and his Kook friends."

"Is that what this is about, JJ?" You furrowed your brows in discontent, sending daggers at the blond whose bitterness exhibited within his mannerisms as though it was on display in a glass case right in front of your face.

"What are you talking about?"

"You got all pissy with me the second I mentioned going to midsummers with Rafe, now you're making snide comments about him as if we're actually together." You scoffed.

JJ shook his head, "It wouldn't surprise me if you were dating him. I mean, you were supposed to be in this for us and now you spend every day with him. You've probably already slept with him too."

Your arms fell to your sides as the tension in your body released all at once, taken over by an affliction in your chest that rendered you nearly speechless. The irritation written on your face dropped into an expression full of chagrin and detriment as JJ's perfervid locution incinerated your pride. You stood before your so called 'friend' with your mouth slightly agape while the reality of his words settled in painfully.

"I did this for you, asshole! How else am I supposed to gain his trust without seeing him and spending time with him, JJ? What good does that do for us, or even for me, if I keep my distance just because it makes you uncomfortable? I can't believe you would say that to me, considering what I'm trying to do for you right now. Just for you to throw it back in my face." You spat, throwing your hands up in the air in an act of defense.

"Y/n... You know that's not what I meant, I-"

"I should go." You cut him off, gathering your tote bag quickly as you began to avoid JJ's burning stare. "John B, can you drop me off at the closet dock? I'm leaving."

"Y/n wait, please." JJ pleaded, urgency oozing from the whine in his tone. However you didn't care, the only thing you could think about was getting as far as hell away from him as possible before you said or did something that would permanently damage your friendship.

You kept your back turned to him, acting as though he simply wasn't there, standing behind you with a pitiful look on his face.

"John B, please." You whispered to your brunette companion, barely audible so that only he could hear your plea.

"I got you." He spoke quietly back at you, providing you a sense of reassurance with a subtle wink.

John B had kept his word, thankfully. Lucky for you, there was a boat dock barely five minutes away and with Routledge's driving, you were sure to get there fast. He stopped as promised upon the first dock that appeared, sending you on your way after you hugged him briefly and exchanged some see you later's. JJ, of course, continued begging for you to hear him out within those painfully long five minutes, to which you ignored for both of your guys' sake. You basically got off that boat as soon as you possibly could, wanting to flee as fast as you could as anger and resentment laid heavy in your mind. You knew that you'd speak to JJ eventually, but not right then. Not with so many emotions boiling up at the pit of your stomach.

You power-walked to the other end of the dock before your feet quickly hit the sand. You sighed a breath of relief, feeling as though a weight had partially been lifted since you had removed yourself from the conflict that had occurred. You looked around for a brief moment, bitterness still heavy in your heart, before reaching into your tote and pulling out your phone as you scanned through your contacts urgently.

"Rafe? Yeah, hi. I hate to bother you right now, but do you care to come and get me right now?"

taglist: @ellesalazar, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday, @haroldpotterson, @i-love-rafe, @ellesalazar, @calmoistorm, @abundantxadorations, @fals3-g0d, @gillybear17, @oiiviagrande, @hockeybabe87, @augustlikesdeath, @wpdailyminimeta, @palmwinemami, @loxleys-blog, @ikisscline

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe fic #rafe outer banks #obx4 #rafe angst #rafe cameron angst

443 notes · View notes

sundrop-writes · 8 months

Text

From Your Lips

Jennifer Jareau x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary:

After JJ is attacked by dogs on the Hankle farm, everyone else is busy worrying about Reid’s missing status, but you take the time to check on JJ and try your best to calm her flustered mind.

Jennifer Jareau x Gender Neutral Reader. Established Relationship. Smut, Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 2, Episode 15.

Word Count: 3,000

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: this is set during Season 2, Episode 15 (“Revelations”); warnings for themes/plot points from the canon episode - rabid dogs, mentions of JJ being attacked by dogs, mentions of dogs eating/killing a woman (a random woman who is not named here), animal death - mentions of JJ having to shoot the dogs (killing them) in self defence, gun violence, mentions of Reid being kidnapped (no details of that are discussed in this fic), religious themes (in this fic, religious motifs are used to encourage sexual behaviour - spoken about as though God made us to have sex with each other, not to discourage it as the Christian religion does); symptoms of shock/PTSD - JJ waves a gun in the reader’s face because she’s scared; general emotional angst, mentions of JJ blaming herself for Reid being kidnapped; mentions of blood (from JJ’s injuries); the reader is completely gender neutral - there are no identifying pronouns used for the reader (other than the ‘you’ I generally use for fics) and the reader’s genitals are not described in any specific way; use of Y/N, mentions of a pre-established sexual relationship between JJ and the reader - it could be a friends with benefits situation, it could be secret lovers, it’s never quite specified; JJ is more submissive and the reader is more dominant, but there is no outright dom/sub relationship; the reader calls JJ 'Jay’, 'sweet girl’, 'sweets’, and 'good girl’; using sex to distract from one’s emotional problems; (technically) semi-public sex because they’re in the bathroom where anyone could walk in on them (but they’re not caught by anyone); kissing/heated making-out; the reader fingers JJ; neck biting/marking (JJ receiving); hair-pulling(JJ receiving); praise kink; clothed/mostly clothed sex; I believe that’s everything.

A/N: This was primarily inspired by the picture of JJ on the right. I saw it and I was like 'damn she fine’ but I knew it was from Revelations so I was like 'damn she fine but I know she’s havin a real bad time rn’ - so I did the thing I do best: smut based off emotional trauma. This is basically the scene where Emily comes to talk to her in the bathroom, but replacing Emily with a reader character and then they fuck. Also the title comes from the phrase 'from your lips to God’s ears’ because religious imagery. I had so much fun with this lmao. I hope you enjoy it!

...

You couldn’t help but to feel bad for JJ.

You knew that everyone was concerned about Reid - rightfully so. Worried about where he was, if he was alive or not. But you were the type of person who preferred to focus on the things you could control - the things right in front of you. JJ was someone you had known for long enough that you knew how to comfort her, and you pushed the ‘what-ifs’ about Reid to the back of your mind in favor of focusing on her.

You knew that she was intensely shaken up by the entire situation. Not only the fact that she had been nearly mauled by a couple of dogs, pieces of her skin torn up and marred. But it was the fact that the team knew for certain that those same dogs had ripped a woman apart only a few days ago. You knew that JJ hated being forced to shoot those dogs. She was someone with a tender heart. You knew that all of this was affecting her.

On top of all that, she was likely blaming herself for Reid being put in danger, even though there was nothing she could have done to save him.

While everyone was gathered in the main room, looking through Hankle’s things for any hint as to where he had taken Reid, you moved toward the back of the house, knowing that JJ had gone to the bathroom to ‘freshen up’. You knew her well enough to easily pick up that it was code for her needing a moment to escape from everyone else in some attempt to calm down.

The door to the bathroom was open just a crack, so you took a peek, not wanting to startle her by knocking.

You could see her hunched over the sink, stress knit through her muscles as she gripped the sides of the porcelain. You felt a twinge of guilt flow through you as the thought occurred to you - even in such a state of duress, she was so beautiful. Painted in agony or pleasure, she was gorgeous.

She looked almost angelic like this, and you hated to believe that torture looked good on someone like her. (Perhaps it was the fact that you had seen her ‘tortured’ before - sweaty and begging, half on the brink of madness as she pleaded to get your tongue between her thighs once again.)

You found your eyes admiring the sliver of skin that peeked out between her white button up and the low waist of her simple black dress pants. You found yourself wanting to actually smack yourself as a form of scolding when you couldn’t help but to admire the gentle dip of her waist and the curve of her ass.

You felt sinful for thinking such carnal thoughts, even when she was so wrought with stress, clearly so wrecked from the night’s events.

Perhaps it was the fact that you had come so close to losing her, and now that urge to possess her bubbled closer to the surface than ever. But you pushed it down as you gently nudged open the bathroom door.

When the creak of the hinges echoed through the room, you certainly did not expect to be greeted with a gun in your face.

JJ had whipped around much faster than you expected, and pointed her Bureau issued glock right at you. Clearly, she expected you to be a threat. The look in her eyes was positively wild - like a frightened animal being cornered by a fierce predator. Which of course, was something that had happened to her only a few hours before.

“JJ.” You called out her name, keeping your voice firm, trying to ground her in this reality.

Her eyes continued darting around, glancing into the hallway behind you as though she was expecting another rabid dog to suddenly appear there.

“JJ, it’s just me.” You told her, reaching up and gently easing the gun down.

She was still incredibly tense, so you reached up with your other hand and massaged along the inner part of her wrist with two fingers, getting her muscles to relax enough that she let go of the gun, dropping it into your hand. You made sure the safety was turned on before you placed the gun on the closed toilet lid. Then you turned and closed the bathroom door behind you, sealing the two of you into a quiet bubble to hopefully give her time to calm down.

JJ let out a harsh breath - a sound that was mostly a sob strangled inside of her chest. She ran her hands through her already wild hair, tears gathering in her eyes once again. She turned to face the wall and you instinctively reached out, running your hands gently across her shoulders.

One of your hands stayed as a comforting grip on her upper arm and the other rubbed an open palm up and down her back. You hoped you could soothe her in some way. You truly hated how she quivered under your touch, how you could feel those sobs trapped inside of her lungs; the echoes of cries she refused to release because she felt that she needed to put up a strong front.

“It’s so stupid.” JJ complained.

Her voice was wet with the unreleased tears as she held her head in her hands, still facing away from you. Her long blonde hair easily created a curtain around her face so that couldn’t properly see her.

“I grew up with dogs! I had dogs! I love dogs, I would never-”

“It’s not your fault, Jay.” You pressed, using your affectionate nickname for her. “When people train animals to attack like that, there’s nothing you can do.” You leaned in, gently resting your cheek on her shoulder, assuring her that you were there before you whispered the next words. “You had to shoot them.”

JJ let out a harsh whimper, clearly struggling even more now with holding back her sobs. You wanted to tell her that it would be okay to cry, but you knew that it would be useless. She was raised as the strong brick wall of a daughter in her family, and she was not used to showing weakness - especially not used to crying.

“I should have stayed with Spencer.” She announced quietly. “I shouldn’t have let him go off without backup. I should have-”

“Jay, that’s not your fault either.” You told her firmly, cutting off whatever self blaming rant she was about to go on.

She muddled in a bitter silence, her arms shaking lightly as she rocked her head back and forth - shaking her head in the negative in response to what you had said.

She had to believe it was her fault. If Spencer didn’t come back from this, her self blame would only be worse.

“JJ, look at me.” You demanded gently. She didn’t move, and you reached over and put a hand on her wrist, attempting to pull her hands away from her face. “JJ, please look at me.”

When your voice warbled out the plea, she finally wavered to your touch, and let you turn her around to face you. You caught a glimpse of the bright red stains soaked into the sleeve of her shirt, splattered up across her front, and you tried to ignore the sickly curl in your gut because of it.

You had the urge to lift her bandaged forearm up and lay a few kisses on it, like you would have kissed a child’s scraped knee - more so for the emotional comfort than any possible health benefits. But you knew that would have been more for you than for her.

So instead, you reached out, brushing past that tangled curtain of blonde to gently cup her face with both your hands. You handled her with an intensely delicate touch as you tilted her gaze up from the ground.

A few tears had managed to escape, and you brushed them away with your thumbs. JJ sniffled quietly, sounding quite small and defeated as she did so. For the first time that night, she felt a slight calm wash over her as the comfort of your presence truly settled in.

She was eternally grateful to have you there with her. She reached up and gripped onto your wrists, keeping you anchored there. She skimmed her thumbs along the top of your hands, enjoying the smooth feeling of your skin as you stared at her broken face - a tearful angel that made your heart ache for her.

You were called by the higher purpose to worship that angel - to turn her pain into pleasure.

Before you could stop yourself, you found yourself drifting toward her, leaning in and planting your lips on hers. It certainly wasn’t the first time you had kissed JJ, but it most definitely wasn’t the most opportune.

She easily returned the kiss, pressing her mouth into yours with a soft neediness. It was when she let out a small moan, the sound vibrating against your lips that you felt that sting of guilty panging at you once again. The fact that lustful heat and your grief for her were colliding so heavily inside of you made you feel like just as much of a monster as the man who had taken Reid and sicked dogs on her.

You pulled away from the kiss sharply, putting only an inch of distance between the two of you, not letting go of her cheeks. She didn’t let go of the hold she had on your wrists either - you wanted to keep her assured of your presence because she did need the comfort during this hard time.

“I’m sorry-” You gasped out an apology for kissing her so inappropriately, but JJ, ever the woman to know exactly what she wanted, didn’t let you finish.

“Don’t apologize.” She ordered sharply. “I need you.”

She kept her eyes closed, her brows tight with anguish as you gently laid your forehead against hers.

You couldn’t help but to question it.

“Now, Jay?” You asked quietly. “Right now?”

“I need to forget.” She whispered, her words so timid that her breath barely ghosted your lips, even with you so close to her.

Your heart ached at her tone, and when you didn’t reply or didn’t move to kiss her again, she continued.

“Every time I close my eyes, I just see… I just see those eyes glowing in the dark. I just hear growling.” She admitted, a few more tears escaping that you rushed to thumb away. “I need to forget it. Please, help me forget.”

“Anything for you, sweets.” You whispered, using another affectionate nickname for her.

You leaned in for another kiss, firmer this time.

You let your instincts take over then - all the lust you had been pushing down rushing to the surface and servicing you well. If she needed to forget, then you would certainly make her. You would make her feel so good that all she would be able to focus on would be the hot blood thrumming through her ears. The medicine that God intended.

You pushed her up against the edge of the sink, keeping one hand on the side of her face and moving the other to her hip. You skimmed your fingers along that tempting strip of skin right above the waistband of her low-rise pants, causing her to shiver at the teasing touch touch.

In a moment, your forceful dominance, the way you handled her easily had her moaning into your mouth again, much louder this time. You moved the hand on her cheek around to comb your fingers through her hair. You dug your knuckles in, setting a powerful grip at the base of her skull that held her exactly where you wanted her. It was a tender pain that had her gasping for you as you shoved your tongue past her lips, now on a very determined mission to fuck every last dreadful thought out of her head.

Your fingertips continued to dance along the waistband of her pants, gently teasing her skin in a great contrast to the forceful movement of your lips. Every single movement was cleverly calculated to make her mind numb. Right down to the way you tugged at her hair and yanked on her bottom lip with your teeth as you pulled away from the kiss, leaving her panting wildly.

Her eyes were closed much more gently this time, her eyelids fluttering lightly, and you hoped that you had already reduced those nightmarish visions to dust as she relaxed into your touch, buttery under your fingers as always.

“Thank you,” JJ breathed out, her voice sweet as ever as you bit a path down her neck. You wanted to leave noticeable marks that would stand out among the scratches and bumps she had acquired that night.

You truly didn’t care if anyone else on the team spotted one of those marks and knew what it was. You were paying tribute to her, leaving your own kind of thank you on her neck as you sucked the soft skin between your teeth. Your fingers finally found the button of her pants and easily popped it open blind, pulling the zipper down in a moment. Without a second of hesitation, you shoved your fingers past the barrier of her simple cotton underwear.

With one last sharp bite, you moved your head back up from the crevice of her neck then, pressing your forehead against hers once again. You kept that tight grip on the back of her hair, a small hinge of pain that grounded her, that assured her you were there.

Your fingers easily found her clit, and you made the bold choice to begin rubbing her without wetting your fingers first. You knew that it would be a pleasurable sting that would certainly push any other thoughts from her mind.

“Oh, fuck, Y/N-”

JJ gasped, arching her hips away from the edge of the sink to meet your touch, her lips falling open beautifully and her eyes still so gently fallen shut. She looked so fucking angelic like this.

More tears kissed her lashes as you pressed harder on her clit, moving your fingers in hard, slow circles. You could assure yourself that these were tears from pleasure, not from anguish or pain. You had rewritten the stony hurt inside her muscles, rethreading the cords tight with the need for an orgasm where they were previously pulled tight with stress.

“Please!” She begged so beautifully when she wanted to.

It felt like its own unique reward to know that you were one of the only people that all powerful Jennifer Jareau ever begged to.

You felt her becoming wetter around your fingers, flooding her underwear in response to your simple touches, and there was only one thing you wanted before you would make her cum.

“Look at me.” You told her, the words quiet on your lips but so utterly full of confident power.

JJ whimpered in response, not yet opening her eyes, and you stopped the movement of your hand altogether. She let out a very displeased sound and you began slowly pulling back, threatening to leave her hanging (which was a very empty threat in this context - not that she had to know that). It was something that immediately caused her eyes to shoot open as she reached out and grabbed your wrist, holding you in place. She canted her hips up, desperately trying to get your touch back where she needed you most.

“Please,” She pleaded again, all hot breath and desperation - all for you.

Staring into those blue eyes, lit with a desperate blaze of lust as she panted out humid breaths across your chin, you were only reminded of the fact that everything you did was for her. Everything in your life was a worship in her name, no act too small to dedicate to such a perfect Goddess.

“Good girl.”

You praised her, knowing it was exactly what she needed as you angled your fingers back between her wet folds. You gathered up that wetness, slicking up your fingers before you placed your determined touch right on her throbbing clit. This time, rather than being slow and calculated, you were quick and determined. You made speedy movements that you knew would draw her to the quick finish that would perfectly empty her mind.

“Always so good for me, Jay.”

“Thank you, oh! Oh, fuck!”

She started singing your praises in her own way as your touches sped up, the sound of her wetness just barely muffled by the fabric of her pants and underwear, becoming delightfully sloppy under your fingers. With the way she was unconsciously canting her hips toward you, humping against your hand, you knew she was so close.

You leaned in, and while looking her in the eyes the whole time, you bit down on her bottom lip and roughly pulled it out, letting the skin snap back in a rough possession of her as she panted and moaned the whole time.

“Cum for me.” You demanded in a rough growl, finding yourself comparable to one of those rabid dogs. Though you were consuming her in a way that renewed her life, rather than trying to end it. “Cum for me, sweet girl.”

“Fuck!” JJ cried out, an epic prayer as she spiraled into the all consuming pleasure of her orgasm.

Though you wanted nothing more than to listen to those beautiful sounds, you had to silence her most pitiful orgasmic cries by clasping your lips over hers. You didn’t want the others hearing - you wanted to keep those sounds all to yourself. You muffled her noises with a tight suction of your mouth as you continued to work her right through the orgasm, keeping a tight grip on her hair the whole time to show her exactly who she belonged to.

With the crucifix mounted on the bathroom wall, the knowledge of Hankle’s God staring right at you as you did all this - you couldn’t find an ounce of shame inside you. Not now. You could find no better way to honor God than to lovingly dedicate your life to the embodiment of his best work.

...

A/N: Please keep in mind - this is a oneshot, so there will not be a continuation of it or a sequel to it. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has been written. I have not written any other fics about JJ at the time of this being posted, but if you like my writing style, definitely feel free to check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist or my other Masterlists.

#sundrop writes #jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau x gender neutral reader #jennifer jareau x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom

248 notes · View notes

rosesbxrry · 2 years

Text

Gingerbread

Pairing: Boyfriend! Jake X Girlfriend! Fem! Reader

Genre: Smut🔞(Minors DNI), established relationship! AU

Warnings: Dom! Jake, unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it), cream pie, heavy food play, fellatio (blowjob), throat fucking, making out, slight ass spanking, dirty talking, riding, slight slut shaming, Jake calling you a bunch a pet names (baby, baby girl, slut, doll, good girl), breast worshipping, praising/ degradation. Hopefully I didn’t miss out anything else.

Summary: Gingerbread cookies; sweet and warm, perfect for the Christmas season as the smell overwhelms your shared apartment with Jake. However, what seems to be an innocent baking activity you spent with him for Chirstmas Eve turns into something more delectable than the confectionary.

A Holiday Special: ➜ Jake

| ➜ Heeseung | ➜ Jay | ➜ Sunghoon |

Main masterlist

Word count: 3,911 words

a/n: This was suppose to be posted 3 days ago but of course, in true fashion, I was late in writing it in time. I’m sure the mood for Christmas is already over but I’m determine to finish this as soon as possible (while enjoying writing it for u guys too). This would also be the second last fic for the holiday special so I hope u guys enjoyed it and Happy New year!

There is something special about the Christmas holidays that is imbued with a magical aura of warmth and happiness. It's a month filled with festive food, decorations, songs, and movies that overwhelm you with nostalgia.

You and Jake decided to celebrate the season together this year instead of choosing to be with your families and relatives separately. The plan was to spend Christmas Eve bundled up with blankets and matching pajamas, watching a bunch of movies on the couch while eating an unhealthy amount of snacks until Christmas morning.

What initially begins as an innocent trip to the supermarket becomes a spontaneous shopping spree for ingredients to make gingerbread cookies. You weren't sure how the both of you ended up with that idea, but it proved to be regrettable further into the baking process.

Jake is an awful baker (Jungwon would vouch for that), while you were manageable as long as the recipe was concise. Still, the odd pairing of each other's ability in the kitchen was bound to end in a mishap, which led to the scene of two people staring at a tray of cookies in the oven, hoping that it won't burn like the previous batch.

By some miracle, you both persevere until the end; Jake places the last batch of perfectly baked cookies onto a drying rack while you whip some of the decorative vanilla icings to be placed on top of the confectionery.

The large window of your shared apartment displayed the amount of time that has passed, the city night below illuminated as the moon and stars became the sole residents under the dark sky. Only a few windows appear lit at the blocks across, indicating the vacancy of the vicinity during the holidays.

"We should never do this again next year." Jake groans beside you, pulling on his flour-stained apron around his waist. You chuckle when he plops down to rest his elbows on the kitchen counter, his chin on a palm while mindlessly in a daze with exhaustion on his face.

You nudge at his side playfully, but he doesn't budge like a statue.

"Did it take you that long to realize?" You said, gripping the whisk handle a little harder to work the powdered sugar and milk mixture together.

He shook his head, and his wispy bangs followed his movement. "I knew the moment the first cookies looked like they belonged in the toilet."

His deadpan response caused you to snort in amusement.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Didn't want to ruin the mood."

He leans down to your level to snuggle his chin on your shoulder, his nose slightly buried in the sweater you were wearing. A slight tilt of your neck to the side caused a bump of your head with his affectionately, continuing to work on the icing while he watched.

"Well, when I'm done, we can cuddle on the sofa while we wait for the cookies to cool down. How does that sound?" You murmured.

Jake nodded his head, but his chin clung to your shoulder, so you had to stifle a smile at how adorable he was. He looked like a puppy silently begging for his owner's attention but couldn't because he wanted to be a good boy and patiently wait for you to be ready.

You've been dating for two years now, and you could interpret by the glint in his eyes when you suggested the offer that he was in dire need of some intimacy.

Once the consistency of the icing satisfied you, the next step was to divide it into different bowls for the colouring process. At the same time, some of the icings had flown out of the mixing pot onto your index finger, which you instinctively brought to your mouth to lick it off casually.

A disgusted grunt left your mouth, causing him to look at you curiously.

"It's too sweet." You declared. "I think I put too much powdered sugar."

Jake watches your face and eyebrows scrunch up in annoyance, smacking your mouth as you inspect the flavour to find a solution to save it. His gaze was attentive on your lips, swallowing down the desire in his throat.

"Can I have a taste?"

"Sure, baby," You said without a second guess, reaching out to grab a teaspoon for him to use. "Let me just take—"

It took you by surprise when he grabbed your wrist before you could leave while his other hand held your jaw, bringing you closer to his face to kiss you. His plump lips capture yours as you close your eyes to relish how he moves to deepen the kiss.

He tasted like warm bittersweet chocolate; the kisses candies he had a few hours ago still lingered.

You reach out to cup his face, feeling his breath fan the high points of your cheeks. Jake tilts his head to the side, his movement firm as he wraps his arms around your waist, pressing you close to his body as you moan softly when he bites at your lower lip.

He licks the nibbled area sensually, signalling you to open wide to let his tongue slip past the cavern of your mouth, caressing your taste buds as you share one breath with each other at the heated moment.

It made you wonder if he could taste the icing in your mouth.

Jake slowly loosens the connection, taking one last lap at your puffed lips before moving away. Through lidded eyes, you watch him tuck the cushion of his bottom lip between his teeth; laboured breathing fills the space of intense silence.

"If I tell you a way not to waste the icing," He whispered close to your lips, hands sliding up the ends of your sweater. A soft sigh escapes your mouth when his calloused fingers smooth your stomach. "Would you be down to get a little dirty with me?"

Your cheeks burned at his suggestive offer— imagining how sticky the substance would feel gliding up and down on each other's skin, especially when it would be his veiny and large hands stroking the cream filthy across your whole body as you writhed under his lubricated touches.

You almost moan at the thought of rubbing the icing on each other's private areas.

Something throbs in you at the obscene act, an arousing feeling that makes you tug his hair on the back of his neck to press his body closer to yours.

You didn't need to verbalize the agreement; your action speaks louder than words as he smirks against your jaw, pulling at the strings of your apron on your back.

"Then let's take off our clothes, yeah?"

One by one, articles of clothing slowly piled on the kitchen floor, stripping each other naked until you realize how chilly the winter night felt biting your bare skin. However, the moment Jake's lips kissed you eagerly again, you felt the flame blooming inside warming you up.

Jake mouthed sloppily, his tongue darting back and forth in your cavern forcefully as his nose bumped against yours. You hungrily push back, saliva collecting under your tongue that it was impossible not to make erotic wet sounds as the kiss turned messy.

"Ahhh— Jake," You whined, throwing your head back when you felt the icing on his hand grope your breast.

He had quietly gathered the sweet cream in his hand, smothering it on your chest in a circular motion. He smears some on your hardened nipples, feeling yourself melt when he fondles the nubs with his slick thumb with the right amount of pleasure.

"Look at you, messy girl." He cooed. "Why don't you do the same for me, hm? Can my girl make me nice and dirty?"

Slick was beginning to drip from your folds, the idea of food play turning you on more than you thought. You scope up a decent amount of cream on your palm before spreading it across his toned torso, and Jake immediately groans at the sensation.

"Jakey, you're so hot." You drawled.

You drag your hands up to his chest, grazing on his nipples as his hips jerk at the contact, breathy moans escaping his deliciously puffy lips. His bangs had fallen to cover the upper half of his closed eyes into an enticing view.

With a covetous gaze, you gradually draw your touch lower past the dips of his hips before you rub his hardened cock, letting the icing coat his length deliciously.

"Nghhh— fuck." He let his head fall into the crook of your neck, his abdomen tensing up as you started moving your hand up and down his thick and warm cock.

Precum drools down from his head before it mixes with the cream, the mixture becoming agonizingly slippery against the underside of his pulsating veins as you fasten your pace, craving more friction to satiate his carnal desire.

Jake's panting grew heavier against your skin and watching him completely crumble made you itch to ruin him more. A shaky moan slips from his throat, catching your wrist in a tight grip when you tease his swollen slit with your thumb back and forth, shuddering at the sudden pleasure shooting through his spine.

"Shit— fucking tease…." His muffled accusation tickled your collarbone, whine an octave lower through gritted teeth.

You wanted to laugh, but it died in your throat when one of Jake's hands grabbed your ass from behind. The harsh squeeze he had on the ample flesh got you whimpering in either pain or pleasure; at this point, you weren't sure anymore.

"My cute girlfriend thought she could tease me and get away with it." He said, his nails slightly digging into the skin.

You wince at the prickly sensation but respond while feigning innocence. "You look like you enjoyed it, so I didn't want to stop."

You gasped when he spanked your ass with enough power, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed throughout the space. You curl your toes in anguish as the stinging pain becomes waves of immeasurable pleasure. An incoherent moan poured out, your pussy clenching in its juices as you buck your hips with mouth agape at the way your clit was throbbing uncontrollably.

It was an unexpected impact, enough to make you squeeze your shaky thighs together.

Fuck, that felt so good you almost came.

"Naughty girl thinks she can talk back now." He whispered directly into your ears, kneading the tender flesh with a satisfied look at your state after wearing his temper thin.

The sticky residue of the cream did nothing but accentuate the desperation clawing in your stomach.

"Should I occupy that little mouth of yours with something sweet? It looks a bit too empty." He kisses the underside of your neck, grinding his wet cock with icing against your stomach to show you what he means.

"I thought I couldn't have dessert without dinner first?" You challenged him sweetly.

Jake's chuckle is almost sinister, finding your taunted response amusing, although he already gave you a taste of punishment. Of course, you would use something he used to say against him at this moment. You love to do it to rail him up even more, and he also finds himself enjoying it.

"I'll make it an exception this time." He baited, licking his bottom lip in anticipation. "So stop being a brat and get on your knees for me."

You slowly descend to rest your weight on your knees on the kitchen tiles, kissing his bulbous head after wrapping your hand around the base of his lengthy cock.

Jake leaned on the edge of the countertop, and lusty moans rambled in his throat when you took the tip in your hot mouth, tongue swirling around the slit to dart at the sticky mess.

He tasted sweet in your taste buds.

"You look fucking sexy down there, baby girl" He gathers your hair lightly, watching you from above with a dreamy look. "How does it taste? Good?"

"It tastes amazing…." You mumbled, leaning an inch lower to take one of his balls into your mouth, sucking at the tight and heavy sack like a treat while looking up at him with big and innocent eyes. "Wanna taste you some more."

The visual of your lewd face and the sensation of you slurping his balls like a lollipop— his eyes rolled back at the pleasure, chewing at the inside of his cheeks as his length twitched and grew agonizingly hard.

Jake took a fist full of your hair at the back, and you let him guide your mouth to take him, eyes squeezing shut as he pumps his dick in and out of your mouth. Your hand held onto his thighs for support, letting him hit his head at the back of your throat.

"That's it, eat it up. Fucking take all of me in." He hissed.

The force of his hips pistoning your mouth with his cock had you collapsing into a teary-eyed mess, but you persevered— bobbing your head to match his rhythm, suctioning to take more and more of him into your mouth.

Every time he thrust in until your nose was flush against his pelvis, you ran your tongue all over his length— tasting the sweetness of the cream with an undertone of his bitter precum.

Jake let out a frustrated growl, needing more stimulation to reach his high.

"Open your throat, baby girl— let me fuck it."

You whimpered as he scraped his fingers harder on your scalp, mercilessly fucking your throat until the corners of your mouth spilt with the filthy mixture obscenely. Trying hard to relax your jaws and cheeks, you fought the urge to gag over his cock and squeeze his thighs hard as every inch of him was seated in your mouth.

You were deepthroating the living daylights out of him, and Jake loved every second of it, his climax nearing its peak.

"Swallow my cream like a slutty girl, got it?"

His filthy encouragement only made you moan, and as soon his hip staggered with one final hard thrust, he came into your mouth. His hot seed spilt down your throat, swallowing the liquid with the remaining facial strength you had to spare.

His grip on the back of your head softened, watching you drink up his cum as he held the base of his cock to milk out whatever he had left.

"Fuck, such a good slut cleaning up her mess." His praises filled the silence. "She deserves to come on my cock, don't you think?"

You hummed eagerly in response as you licked every inch of him sloppily— the way you knew he enjoyed it.

Jake thought you looked breathtakingly hot as he pulled out to smear his sensitive tip on your lower lip. A deep flush on your cheeks, chest heaving up and down, a few tear stains evident on the corners of your eyes, and figure weakly slump down on your knees, soiled with residual icing.

He tugged you by the arms to help you get on your feet. As he wraps his hands around your waist, you clutch onto his shoulder blades for support, resting your body against his at how weak your knees were.

Jake gently snuggles on the crook of your neck to mumble close to your ears. "How would you like it? From the back? Or the front?"

"Wanna ride you." You breathe out.

He grinned like he had expected that answer. "Had a feeling you'll pick that."

Jake hauled his body onto the kitchen countertop, pushing away utensils that were in the way. With whatever miracle, he manages to manhandle your exhausted body up on the marbled surface, letting you straddle him as he lay flat on his back.

It was an awkward position— his long legs dangled at the end with some visible remnants of the gingerbread baking situation left. Still, the way he gripped your hips to situate your pussy on his cock, rubbing your folds over his length, had you clawing at his chest.

"Oh my god." You cried out, seeing stars as you rolled your hips harder, his cock rubbing hard on your cunt as the wetness started pooling on your inner thighs.

The knot in your stomach was burning you on the inside.

Jake chuckled darkly with his pupils blown out below you, albeit shivering at the overwhelming stimulation after just coming.

"My good girl wants to use me like her personal fuck toy after I stuffed her mouth full with my cock, right?" He huffed out, rapturously gazing at how you moaned at his words. "You want that, don't you?"

"Jaeyun—" You choked out when your clit made contact with his hot length so deliciously that you began humping him desperately like a dog in heat. Your pussy was clenching around nothing as the sensation made you dizzy with desperation, thighs burning at the fatigue.

"Fuck, I need you. Please." You begged.

"I know, baby girl." He whispered slowly. "I need you too."

With one hand kneading your ass to lift you slightly in the air while the other gripping his shaft, he lines your slit with his tip and probes your entrance to let him in.

"C'mere and ride me."

With your pussy already drenched after sucking him off, Jake easily stretches you open as you descend his cock. The noises that came out your mouth were music to his ears, your gummy walls clenching around his girth so tightly as he buried himself deep inside your cunt.

"So wet," He rasps, absolutely enamoured by the bliss overwhelming his body. "Move for me, baby girl."

You start by bouncing lightly, palms resting on his chest as you move your hips. When you lift all the way up, you make sure to sink back down until his cock fills you to the brim. The pace was begrudgingly slow, still adjusting to his size as you moaned softly with every thrust.

"That's it, doll." He said, thumb circling the apex of your hips soothingly. "You're so pretty— so perfect for taking me well."

Your pace was getting faster and rougher, face flush at the way he poured sentiment words to fuel you up. It caused you to tighten your walls around him, making each drag of his cock going in and out of you much more gratifying.

Jake soaked in your lovely features, his eyes moving down to watch your boobs bounce with the movement of your hips. Your tits were nice and hard— lusciously erect, urging him to twirl the nub between his fingers teasingly until you cried.

It didn't help that some icing was still on your breast, dripping down when it mixed with your sweat. Jake had to bite down hard on his lips to prevent himself from melting on the spot.

Call him juvenile, but it turned him on beyond reason at how pornographic the scene was, his slit dribbling out with more precum inside of you.

You didn't understand the power you have over him, crying and choking in your speech as you grind over his cock shamelessly with your hands around your cute tummy.

"Wanna taste this pretty set of tits." He said, and you pulled your legs apart as he sat up to fill the spot between your legs.

He licks the swell of your breast before taking a nipple into his mouth, engulfing the peak with moist kisses and suckling. He kneaded the flesh tenderly with his other hand, flicking the other nipple with equal attention.

"So sweet," He hummed, switching to the other pebbled nipple to tongue it as your mewls grew louder, rocking your hips to his pace. "My pretty girl tastes so good in my mouth."

The lapping of his lips on your nipples had you hissing at the intensity, especially when he was still balls-deep in you.

His lips let go of your nipples after abusing the tender flesh, returning to lie down on his back, but this time, he made sure to keep your legs wide open, the sole of your feet resting on the surface for him to see your hole stuffed with his cock.

"Ahhh—hahh–Jake–" You whined, leaning back to rest your palms on his thighs to balance your body. Although it did make you redden at how exposed you felt in this position. "Fuck, Jake. I can't— too deep….."

"I know, baby." He reassured you, holding your ankles to keep you at bay at his side. "But I need you to keep bouncing on my cock. My good girl can do that for me, right?"

You nodded obediently, rolling your hips back and forth to continue fucking your slit with his cock. Your pace faltered with each minuscule movement of you going down on his dick, but Jake took this opportunity to thrust you up sharply to meet you halfway.

"Not yet," He groaned, noticing you show signs of slowing down. "A little bit more, baby."

The loud and wet clapping of your ass hitting his thighs echoed in your shared apartment, and your face twisted in ecstasy when he took charge and slammed his cock into your sweet spot. He rammed the spot continuously, splitting your pussy open thrust after thrust.

There was a reason why Jake needed you to be in this position; having access to play with your swollen clit as he pounded into you from below was sure to morph you into a blubbering mess.

"So, close." You buck into his fingers when he thumbs your bundle of nerves, the knot in your stomach is keen to burst into millions of pieces as he switches between circling and tapping your clit with precision.

"Jake– Jakey, please fill me up." You break into a fit of sobbing, rolling your eyes back.

Jake sighs in desperation as well. "Wanna see you cum, baby." He did everything he could to keep you high in the clouds with pleasure— his hips and fingers never ceased even for a second, utterly devoted to making you undone. "Wanna fill this sweet pussy nice and full with my seed."

His voice coaxed the earth-shattering orgasm that ripped your body into shreds; the view of the ceiling was the only thing you see when you throw your head back when you come on his cock.

Jake took a few more thrusts before he released his milky load into your cunt— your brain could barely register any ounce of rationality in your brain, body going limp as he rode your orgasm steadily.

You lay down on top of him, feeling him pull his cock out to let his cum drip out of your tight hole. His hands found themselves around your body, pulling you into a sticky pile of embrace with him as you basked in the relief washing over you.

You felt completely raw and fucked out that you could barely keep your eyes open. It was warm and sweaty, so different from the cold winter that prevails outside.

"Jake," You swallowed, breathing through your nose as you tried to calm your beating heart.

"That was…."

"Intense?" He asked.

You shook your head. "Amazing."

His chest vibrates as he laughs, kissing the top of your head affectionately as pride swells in his heart at how spent you looked.

The smell of cinnamon slowly wafted through the kitchen, reminding the two figures that they still had dozens of freshly baked gingerbread cookies that needed to be decorated.

Permanent Taglist: open/ take this form to be added!

@forjongseong @skzenhalove @duolingofanaccount @sunnysunnysunnysunshine @sunnyjayjays @archangelaurii @hwihwi0o0 @won-shine @stnkyash @yoursjaeyun @hooneam @jjhmk @pshchives

A Holiday Special: ➜ Jake

| ➜ Heeseung | ➜ Jay | ➜ Sunghoon |

1K notes · View notes