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sparklingchim · 1 month ago

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game on 03 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x oc

word count: 2.7k

tropes: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l

rating: pg

warnings: jk is a huge flirt, mentions of jk's past fights in school, lots of hand holding, paparazzi!!!, mentions of jk's flings 🫢, they love to bicker <3

summary: your fake relationship goes public - cue the unexpected butterflies.

a/n: she's finally back !!!! n i rlly hope u like it 😋

masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

So many nights spent wondering about the future, but you never imagined yourself in this scenario.

“I can see someone across the street.”

“That’s good – that's perfect.” Jungkook doesn’t even look back to catch a glimpse of what’s happening outside when he says, “Let them get their little shots. We’ll pretend we don’t notice.” He leans closer, elbows on the table. A grin lights his eyes. “Maybe we can even start the show right here.”

Jungkook begins to play with your fingers, gently tracing his fingertips along yours. Slowly, he lifts your hand, your elbow grazing the edge of the table, and links your fingers with his in the air.

You hesitantly mimic his smile. “Sure you don’t wanna switch paths and become an actor?”

“Hmm, maybe in my next life,” he ponders. “But only if you’re the co-star.”

“Can’t even leave me alone in our next life? I’d categorise that as obsessive behaviour, Jungkook.”

Kind of like the way most people in this café are obsessively watching you two.

The plan is simple: sit in a café with Jungkook, pretend you’re lost in your own little world, play the part of a love-struck couple – and wait. Wait until people become suspicious that this isn’t just another casual lunch between childhood friends, but that maybe there’s something more. Wait until a few more onlookers gather outside, cameras ready, eager to capture the moment your friendship seems to blur into something else.

“That’s just how a boyfriend would act, no? Be obsessed with his girl.”

“I guess? No one’s ever been obsessed with me.”

“Wasn’t Junwoo?”

You sigh deeply at the mention of your high-school ex-boyfriend. “Yeah, after I broke up with him.” If a two-month thing even qualifies as a relationship.

“Should’ve let me punch that fucker for treating you that way, seriously.” He says it with such contempt dripping from his voice, you’d think this happened recently and not nearly three years ago.

When Junwoo and you got official and had your first time, suddenly that’s all he was interested in. No more fun dates or random calls just to talk. Just a guy who liked the idea of you more than actually spending time with you. And once you called him out on it, he pretended it wasn’t true at all and tried to win you back with cute letters, random gifts or cringey apologies over voice notes.

“You got into trouble for that way too many times,” you remind him pointedly.

Whether it was for the sake of protecting you or losing his temper on the field – Jungkook had squared up to other guys more times than you could count. And still continues to do so on the field. Boys.

Jungkook’s sweet, charming, total golden retriever, until you piss him off.

“Ah, I really miss it,” Jungkook mumbles, wistfully brushing his thumb over your skin.

“Fighting?”

“No, just school in general. It was a silly time back then.”

“Don’t remind me. Life was so carefree.”

“Was it really for you, though?” Jungkook asks, tilting his head like he already knows the answer. “You were, and still are, a study maniac. Dragged me to the library so many times.” Jungkook rolls his eyes at the memory of the times you’ve spent in the library to study for exams and you nearly swat his arm for that.

You were stressed out and trying to survive under all the pressure of acing your exams. He was there for the vibes. You hunched over textbooks with color-coded tabs, he sprawled across the seat next to you, nearly falling asleep from boredom. Jungkook used to doodle on your notes while you crammed for midterms. At the time, it drove you up the wall. You’d flick his pen away, scold him for distracting you, threaten to ban him from ever coming again.

He always came anyway. And you always let him.

Now, whenever you’re studying – whether alone or with a study group – you catch yourself having memories popping up in your mind of Jungkook sitting next to you, twirling a pen, asking dumb questions like do you think mitochondria ever get tired of being the powerhouse?

You don’t miss the stress of high school. God, no. But you do miss that. Him in those moments. The silly distractions. The way he annoyed you so much it looped around into comfort.

“And you got us kicked out so many times,” you argue. “I get your hatred for studying, but you were doing too much.”

Jungkook shrugs, unbothered. “I did the best I could, honestly.”

Right then, the waitress appears with your drinks. Two iced americanos, his with an extra shot, yours with oat milk. She places them on the table with a polite smile before vanishing again. Jungkook thanks her absently, stirring his coffee with the paper straw.

“Kinda wish we could go back for a day. Just one,” he says, eyes fixed on the swirling coffee. “Walk the halls, eat lunch together, annoy each other in class.”

“You just want to relive the time you sneaked off with Hyejin and made out behind the gym hall.” You sip on your drink, eyeing him.

Jungkook nearly chokes on his coffee. “You know what, I wouldn’t say no to that,” he replies, a sly smirk forming on his face. But then he recoils dramatically. “No, ___. How dare you say that when we’re on a date? I don’t wanna go back in time to kiss other girls.”

You quirk your eyebrow, but he doesn’t budge from that statement. "You just said you wouldn’t say no.”

“Slip of the tongue.” He waves it off. “I’m – we’re still new to this,” he adds, eyes wide with mock innocence. “But I’m fully reformed now. Monogamous. Loyal. Emotionally available.”

“Oh wow. All three?”

“All three.” He nods solemnly. “All for you.” Jungkook leans closer, conspiratorially. “Do you wanna sneak off and kiss behind the building?” he teases, voice dropping the tiniest bit. A soft, short chuckle escapes him like he’s proud of his flirty jab.

You can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “You wish.”

He sips on his drink, sparkling eyes trained on you. “Should we really, though?” he asks more seriously. “Maybe not in the back of the café but my car or something?”

“I don’t know. Is hand holding enough? Did Taesung tell you something about a kiss?”

“Lemme just ask him.”

Jungkook lets go of your hand. He grabs his phone and types.

You squint suspiciously. “What did you text him?”

Without a hint of shame, he flips the screen around.

should we kiss?

You nearly laugh. What an unprofessional, unhinged text message to your manager. But then you catch sight of his grin behind his phone – that wide, dimpled, full-teeth kind of grin that makes him look way too pleased with himself – and annoyance melts away.

“You’re so lucky he puts up with your shit.”

“I just add a little fun to his job. He needs it.” His phone pings. He reads the message aloud. “He said it’s not necessary. Do what you’re comfortable with.”

Suddenly, worry tightens your chest. “Do you think they’ll follow us? To your car?” you ask, voice low as your eyes flick to the café window, though you force yourself not to actually look.

“They’ll keep their distance,” Jungkook says calmly.

Your worry turns out to be nothing more than a fleeting flicker. Here one second, gone the next. Especially when he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I told you not to stress over these things. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I can’t stop the worrying.” You tap a finger to your temple. “This thing won’t shut up.”

“It doesn’t have to work when I’m around.”

“I believe you when we survive the day.”

“Yah,” Jungkook breathes out affronted, his shoulders sagging dramatically like you just wounded him. “Do I not take care of you?” he pouts, the expression softening every line of his face.

“I’m just joking,” you giggle, nudging his foot under the table with yours. “Don’t be upset.”

Jungkook crosses his arms, lips still pursed in that exaggerated pout. “I’m not upset,” he says, clearly upset. Or pretending to be. His foot nudges yours back, a petty little kick that barely has any force behind it.

“Thank you for risking your life in public with me,” you try, waiting for his reaction.

“Risking my life is crazy, no?” he says, drinking his coffee. “We’re just having overpriced americanos.”

“So you do still know the value of money and have a concept of what’s normal. We haven’t completely lost you yet.”

“Yeah, what can I say. I’m still grounded.”

“You’re paying a monthly fee for a dog-walking app, and you don’t even have a dog. I don’t think that’s exactly grounded.”

“I just like to know what’s going on in the dog community. Sue me.”

“That’s called being rich,” you shoot back, lifting your drink. “Meanwhile, I was checking my bank app before I said yes to this fake date.”

“You wound me again.” A disappointed sigh slips past his mouth as he slouches back in his seat. “It’s those boys you hang out with at university, isn’t it?” he asks, shaking his head slowly, dramatically. “Feeding you cafeteria food and making you split Ubers.” He tuts, tongue clicking. “You’ve been through so much.”

Jungkook is ridiculous. But he also has a point.

“Maybe this fake dating situation won’t be only beneficial for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll show you how a man treats his girl properly.” He leans forward slightly.

“You don’t even date.” And yet, throughout your friendship, he still manages to do better than half the boys you’ve talked to.

“Exactly.” He shrugs like it proves something. “And I’m still ahead of the curve.” On a more serious note, he adds, “It’s not that hard to not be weird.”

“Low bar, huh.”

“Painfully low.” Jungkook winks at you. “But I’ll raise it for you. Temporarily.”

“Until you send me off to the college boys?”

“The finance bros you’ve been collecting?” At least Jungkook has the decency to try and hide the smile that threatens to break across his face, but it’s a miserable attempt.

“It was one date,” you groan, slumping back in your chair. “Will you ever stop annoying me about it?”

“I fear I can’t.” He reaches out, fingers brushing yours before he gently takes your hand. He gives a light tug, coaxing you to lean forward again, and you do. “How long did it take him to bring up crypto again?” Your fingers end up loosely threaded with his, resting on the table. The contact makes the teasing a little less annoying.

“I think he made it a whole five minutes before he went into a deep dive of explaining cryptocurrency to me.” You swirl your straw in slow, disappointed circles. Whoever started the myth of meeting the love of your life at university is a big, fat liar. Or maybe just works in admissions. And definitely deserves jail time.

“Wow.” Jungkook nods impressed. “Do you want a moment of silence for your brain cells?”

“I’m surrounded by idiots. I’m used to it.”

“You’re a med student. How does that work?”

“Men. Lots of emotionally unintelligent men.”

“But now you have me!” Jungkook exclaims, eyes big and sparkly. He squeezes your hand as he triumphantly holds them up a little. “Isn’t that fun?”

You laugh at his silly antics. “It’s an upgrade, for sure.”

Jungkook drinks up your words with a huge smile. “I’m so honoured. You’re, like, the smartest girl I’ve ever had.” he says. “I won’t disappoint you.”

“Do you even know anything about the girls you’ve been with?”

“They’re pretty?” he answers hesitantly. “And they have amazing taste.”

“Finish your drink before I throw up, please.”

“Wanna end our date already?”

“Didn’t you want to head to the gym after this?” You take a final sip of your coffee, pushing the empty glass away from you.

“I can cancel.”

“For me?”

“For us.”

“All it took for you to spend more time with me is fake date you?”

“Says you,” he shoots back. “The one who always bails on me because she has to study.” He mimics your voice when he says it and does a terrible job at that. It’s awful, but he still manages to pull a little laugh from you.

“Speaking of,” you say, glancing at the time. “I actually have a study date in an hour. So I don’t have time to hang that long.”

“This relationship’s doomed to fail,” he says flatly.

You gasp. “Excuse me?”

“Fully admitting to going on another date during our first date?”

“A study date,” you clarify, rolling your eyes at his theatrics. “With my study buddy.”

“Side chick, you mean.”

“I should accuse you of that, not the other way around.”

“Doubting my loyalty already, I see.” Jungkook taps his fingers against his glass. “I told you, I’m a brand-new man. I’ve got the big three now.” He raises a finger for each one: “Loyal. Monogamous. Emotionally available.”

“I truly love that for you, Jungkook. Growth looks good on you. But I still need to study.”

Jungkook finishes his coffee, sighing when he places his glass on the table. “Lets go then.” But then suddenly he goes, “Hold on – what would you rate this date? One to ten.”

You ponder. “Like, maybe a seven?”

“Seven? Damn.” Jungkook exclaims. “What are you deducting three points for?” He tilts his head with a genuine confused pout.

“It was a cute date. Conversation was fun, good banter but...” You trail off, thinking. Jungkook raises his eyebrows expectantly. “The butterflies were missing.”

He scoffs. “I can give you lots of butterflies if you let me.”

“Don’t make me deduct more points,” you warn, unfazed.

“Ah, okay.” He bows his head in apology, muttering, “I’ll do better next time.”

You giggle, comforting him with small pats on his head. “Don’t feel too burdened. I really liked it.”

Leaving the cafe hand in hand, a shy smile playing on your lips, you walk beside Jungkook towards his car. Your shoulders are tense, awareness prickling at your skin as you feel the distant hums of cameras capturing every step.

You try to play it cool, telling yourself that this isn’t different from any other day, but the little waves of anxiety still roll through you.

Jungkook seems unfazed. When you glance at him, he’s already looking at you, the edge of his mouth curved upward. He pulls you closer, his body shifting ever so slightly to shield you from curious eyes.

Once you reach his black Bugatti tucked away in a quiet street, he opens the door for you, his hand brushing lightly against your back as you slide in.

He rounds the car and settles in beside you.

“You okay?” he asks softly.

You nod. “Are you?”

Concern flickers over his face. “Yeah, as long as you are okay.”

“No, I am. Really. Just worried that they would be more annoying about following us, but it’s all good.”

“They know better.”

“Think we did good?” You turn your body a little towards him as he starts the car.

“Of course we did,” he replies. “You looked like you were seconds away from falling in love with me. Got excited for a sec.”

“Delusional and confident.”

Jungkook checks the rearview mirror, his gaze flickering over the street behind you. “They’re probably still around.”

“You think?”

“Probably. But let them look. We are kinda adorable.”

You huff out a laugh. “You’re not wrong.”

Jungkook’s fingers rest lazily on the steering wheel. He turns his head to you again, eyes twinkling like he’s had an idea.

“Maybe we could do a bit better?”

“Better how?”

He leans a little closer, his cologne wrapping around you. His voice drops slightly when he says, “Come here.”

Jungkook cups your cheek, gently guiding you towards him. You lean into it without a second thought. Your eyes fall close, and you wait, expecting him to kiss you just like you had practised it at your place, but you don’t feel the gentle touch of his lips against your mouth.

Instead, you feel him press a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead.

Your chest stirs at his unexpected move.

There they are.

Butterflies.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

a little extra from me to u 😋:

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drchucktingle · 1 year ago

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THE TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION HAVE ISSUED AN APOLOGY AND A RE-INVITATION. HERE IS MY STATEMENT

hello buckaroos. the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION have issued a formal statement and apology which you can read at the attached link.

while i find the language used to discuss what was done a little unsatisfying, i would like to start by saying i appreciate anyone taking steps to prove love is real and make things right. the genuine feeling of ‘realizing you have made a mistake and hurt someone else’ is a terrible one, and i have so much empathy for this group as they reckon with their choices causing harm. i appreciate their apology.

i also think more good than bad has come from this situation. i am so thankful this happened to me (someone with a large social media presence) and not a smaller buckaroo author without the means to stand up for themselves. i think the next time someone comes to the TXLA with an accommodation need, they will hopefully be taken more seriously

lets trot down to business about specifics now. the TXLA has re-invited chuck to the original panel and even offered to take a moment at the top of the panel to talk about what happened. this is very kind of them and i will say THANK YOU.

unfortunately i will also have to decline.

the fact that it took this much effort, social media backlash, and discussion to let me simply EXIST PHYSICALLY in a way that is authentic to myself is not a good sign. if this organization immediately questions an authors chosen presentation in this manner, i cannot imagine what my other accommodations would be met with.

sometimes i am at an event and i very quickly need extra space to breathe. sometimes i am at an event and i need special guides to help me along from place to place. these are not ‘big asks’ and every other conference has gladly provided them, but if the TXLA had this kind of initial reaction to my physical appearance, i cannot imagine them readily helping with my other needs without ‘proof’.

this is clearly not a safe place to trot for those who require additional accommodations. regardless of any apology, their ACTIONS have shown that people who appear unusual or unique are not welcome at this event on a subconscious level. i believe the TXLA have some serious inner work to do beyond this apology, and i believe this inner work will involve actions more than words.

but even more importantly i would like to make this very important point: IT DOES NOT MATTER IF MY MASK IS A DISABILITY AID OR NOT. i appreciate the way this discussion has allowed us to trot out some deep talks on autism and proved love in this way, but i think there is a much more important point at hand.

regardless of WHAT someone looks like, it is not the job of an event or conference to pick apart WHY. physical presentation can be a part of someones neurodivergence, or gender, or sexuality, but i can also just exist as a nebulous undefined part of their inner self. it can be a piece they are not ready to openly discuss yet. the guests at TXLA are authors (aka ARTISTS) and the idea that a conference dedicated to an ART is going to deny people with unique and unusual presentations for ANY reason is absurd. since when are we applying a ‘dress code’ to our artists?

without knowing it, i personally believe there is an element of the ‘good queer, bad queer’ phenomenon going on here. there is a push to say ‘LOOK we accept these marginalized groups and cultures’ but behind the scenes that means ‘we accept these marginalized groups and cultures who are quiet and speak in turn and wear the metaphorical suit and tie’. it is easy to show diversity when you only take on the voices that arent too ‘strange’.

to prove my point i ask you this: do you think orville peck would have FOR ONE SECOND been asked to perform at the texas library association event without his mask?

so with that i say ‘very sincerely, thank you, but i will have to decline the re-invitation. maybe next year’

#love is real #txla #chuck tingle #buckaroo lifestyle

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pitlanepeach · 3 days ago

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The Long Way Home I Interlude

Oscar Piastri x Harper Grace (OFC)

Summary — When Harper, a kind girl with a guarded heart, meets rising karting star Oscar Piastri at their English boarding school, sparks fly.

It only takes one silly moment of teenaged love for their lives to change forever.

Warnings — Teenage love, growing up together, falling in love, teen pregnancy, no explicit scenes when the characters are underaged (obviously??), strong language, manipulative parents, past death of a parent, dyscalculia, hardly any angst, slice-of-life basically!

Notes — Tell a friend to tell a friend… she’s backkkkkk. P.S. We’ll pick up Oscar, Harper and baby Clem in the next chapter which will begin our F2 era (forgive me for skipping F3, but we will revisit that era in the future!)

Wattpad Link | Series Masterlist

They started to call it home before they even had the keys.

It was the kind of flat you only ever saw in a glossy magazine or on a Netflix teen drama — all clean lines and warm wood, soft lighting that dimmed with a voice command, floor-to-ceiling windows that turned the city skyline into wallpaper. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a concierge who knew them by name, underground parking, and a leafy park nearby with a duck pond.

It was somewhere in Zone 2 — close enough to the centre for Harper to feel like part of something, far enough out for Oscar to breathe. Within easy driving distance of Silverstone, and surrounded by three coffee shops that all knew Harper's name and her usual: an oat flat white, extra hot, one sugar. Coffee had become a staple since becoming a mum. It was either that or total collapse.

They signed the lease two weeks before Clem's second birthday. Moved in one week after. Harper carried the baby through the door on her hip, while Oscar fumbled with the keys and kept asking, "Are we really doing this?" as though the furniture wouldn't show up in four hours and make it permanent.

Oscar had taken a year out of racing after Clementine was born.

It wasn't a planned decision, and it wasn't one many people understood — least of all the people who'd watched him dominate junior karting and expected him to rise like smoke through the open-wheel ranks. But he'd missed too much school. Missed too many nights, too many hours of Harper crying or trying to make Clementine latch, or just needing someone to keep her upright. And when he was asked — really asked — Are you sure you're not throwing it all away? his answer was always simple.

"She's my baby. Of course I'm sure."

So while others trained and raced and pushed for attention, Oscar Piastri vanished. No interviews, no paddock appearances. Just him, and Harper, and a squishy pink newborn who made the ceiling light look like a disco every time she waved her hands.

They stayed at Haileybury, still just fifteen, turning sixteen. They re-sat their missed GCSEs and passed on the second try. Clementine learned to crawl in the boys' dorm common room. She took her first steps in the school library.

Their friends — Jane and Sam and Matt and Alfie and the rest of that oddball, fiercely loyal circle — became her first family. Clementine had more teenaged godparents than anyone could count. She learned to walk holding onto Oscar's physics notes. She learned to talk sitting in Harper's lap as she typed HTML.

Then came the offer — again. F3. A team ready to take him as soon as he was ready to return. It had been a quiet year in the eyes of the motorsport world — but Oscar came back different. Sharper. More grounded. And far more terrifying behind the wheel.

So they moved into the London flat. Nicole helped decorate — soft colours, baby gates, a kitchen with pale blue cabinets and an American fridge.

Mark handled the other side of Oscar's life. The logistics. Contract offers that just kept getting longer.

Clementine's nursery was a vision board of calm: birchwood cot, pastel cloud decals, a plush rug like walking on cake.

Harper coded the baby monitor app herself — it had the ability to learn and distinguish between Clemmy's cries.

Oscar installed blackout blinds and built a mini bookshelf filled with picture books in three different languages.

They weren't struggling — not the way people expected seventeen-year-old parents to be. Not financially, anyway.

But money never softened the sharp edges of responsibility.

There were still nights where Clementine cried for hours and Harper paced in circles, whispering, 'You're okay, you're okay,' like a mantra she needed to believe herself. There were still moments where Oscar stared at the calendar on the fridge — race dates, interview days, booster shot appointments — and felt panic coil in his chest.

Still, they chose it. Every day. And every day it got a little easier.

In the two years after Clementine was born, the world became a blur of trackside hotel rooms and baby bottles tucked into designer handbags. Harper and Clem travelled with Oscar more often than not — Japan, Italy, Austria, France.

Harper made a rule: in every new country, within three days, she had to learn to order a coffee in the local language.

Oscar made a rule: Clementine got to press the elevator button in every hotel.

They were young. Strange. Wildly out of place sometimes — but a family all the same.

Harper built Oscar's official website from scratch — sleek, scalable, clean UX, dark mode toggle because he was picky. Max Verstappen emailed her after seeing it. (Hey — could you build me something similar?) She said she'd think about it.

She sat her A-levels online. She was already starting to specialise in full-stack development. Her dyscalculia made things hell sometimes — numbers swam on the screen — but she learned how to code by pattern and logic, by rhythm and recursion. She learned how to work with her brain, not against it.

Oscar kept racing. And winning. F4 became F3. Then whispers of F2 began. He got sharper in interviews, more polished for sponsors, more careful around cameras. But at night — when it was just them, limbs tangled on a hotel bed, or Clem snoring softly between them in the cot — he was still that awkward, soft-eyed boy.

They celebrated Clementine's second birthday in a hotel suite in Barcelona with balloons Oscar had blown up and a lopsided cake. They FaceTimed the Haileybury crew. Jane cried. Sam tried to teach Clementine to say fuck.

Later that month, they hung a print in the entryway of their flat. Just one word, in soft gold foil.

Our Home.

Because for all the flights and chaos and podiums and late-night feeds — that's what they were building. Slowly. Quietly. Against every odd and every doubt.

They were seventeen and a half. Young. Exhausted. Occasionally terrified.

But they were a family.

And it was messy, and real, and theirs.

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wonniesdoll · 2 months ago

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“You Wanna...?” - sjy

you’re stressed, overwhelmed, flipping through color-coded notes and textbooks stacked like a mini fortress around you. And your emotional support golden retriever boyfriend with godlike fingers? He knows exactly what you need.

warnings:

suggestive, fingersucking, not smut. petnames used.

divider by: @uzmacchiato

You’re on the floor of the library room at home, your designated study zone. Papers are everywhere. Highlighters uncapped. Your laptop's fan is screaming like it's on its last breath. And your hair’s half-up, half-forgotten, frizzy from stress and your thousandth sigh.

Your boyfriend, Jake is watching from the plush armchair behind you, elbow on the armrest, cheek in his hand. He’s been quiet, shockingly so, for the past hour. Just observing while you meltdown in increasingly cute and chaotic ways.

“Sweetheart,” he finally says softly, like he’s afraid you’ll snap.

You whine without looking up, pen scribbling nonsense. “I can’t do this. I’m gonna drop out and become a hotdog vendor.”

He chuckles. “I mean… at least you’d be a really pretty hotdog vendor.”

You throw your pen down and dramatically flop backward, straight onto his feet. “I’m DYING.”

Jake’s already sliding down to sit on the plush carpet beside you. “Okay, okay. What do you need? Water? Snacks? A 5-hour forehead massage?”

Your eyes flick toward him. He’s giving you the eyes—soft and low-lidded, like he already knows what you’re gonna say. You hesitate. Your face heats. And then…

“…Can I…?” You trail off, biting your lip.

Jake tilts his head. “You wanna?”

“…Yeah.”

He lifts his hand slowly, wrist bent, fingers relaxed, but his heart is pounding. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t dreamed of this moment more than once. But now that it’s real? You, blushy, desperate and asking for his fingers? He might actually implode.

“Go on, baby,” he murmurs.

Your hand is trembling a little when you take his. You bring it to your lips, pausing at the first knuckle. Then, with an embarrassed little whimper, you part your lips and slide his index finger inside your mouth.

Jake nearly forgets to breathe.

Your tongue curls around the digit, slow and soft, just the way you'd been thinking of doing since you started dating the man with the prettiest hands in the world. Your lips wrap snug, sucking gently—like it’s an instinct.

Jake swears under his breath, the sound punched out of his lungs. “Shit.”

You look up at him through your lashes, cheeks puffed and eyes heavy, like you know what you’re doing to him.

He’s frozen. Eyes glued to your mouth. A hot flush crawling up his neck. His hand flexes as he watches your lips slide up and down, your saliva slicking up the base of his finger.

You release it with a wet, tiny pop, breath warm against his skin.

“I feel better now,” you whisper.

He laughs—breathy, shaky, slightly feral.

“You’re evil,” he murmurs. “You're gonna kill me. Death by finger-sucking.”

You giggle, wiping the corner of your mouth. “Don’t act like you didn’t love it.”

Jake smiles—soft, stunned, utterly gone for you. “You can do that whenever you want, baby." he says, voice rough. “God, please do that whenever you want.”

And after that day, it does become a thing. Mid-essay meltdown? You’re curled in his lap, mouth lazily sucking on two of his fingers like it’s your pacifier. He strokes your cheek with his thumb, heart full, mind blank, completely owned.

Jake Sim? Strong independent man?

Yeah, but also your personal hand dispenser, ready to be sucked dry any time you look at him with those big, stressed-out eyes.

fin.

thank you for reading 🩷🥺 feedback is always appreciated <33

- Athena

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #sunghoon smut #heeseung smut #jungwon smut #jake smut #jay smut #enhypen fluff #jake sim #enhypen jake

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kimpossibooty · 20 days ago

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BamPowPrints is officially open!

I’ve been working for a couple of weeks now on my shop (as you’ve probably seen), and I’m now fully up and running!

WHAT I DO:

I take real comic books and turn their pages into fun keepsakes to memorialize your favorite stories, characters, and more!

I also make nerdy 3D-printed statues and laser-engraved/laser-cut display pieces out of wood and acrylic, but these will be listed in the coming days/weeks

WHAT ITEMS I MAKE:

I make 2.25” pin-back buttons, magnets, and magnetic bottle openers! I have a variety of pre-made items ranging across Marvel and DC, even dipping my toes into Star Wars, but I also have a library of ready-to-press designs to pick from!

Additionally, I can go out and source comic pages for any character or team you can think of! Custom-sourced items are available at a small upcharge, so either look at the listing or reach out to me directly if you’re looking for something specific that you don’t see!

WHO AM I:

I’m a bisexual and disabled father-of-one-about-to-be-father-of-two with a passion for comics and creativity and a whole lotta bills!

WHOA, WHAT’S WITH THE BOTTLE OPENERS:

I can make bottle openers out of anything! But at my beautiful wife’s behest, I made some “booby bottle openers” out of particularly close-up pages, and they sold out immediately and continue to be my most popular item! They’re fun to display or hide in shame until they’re needed!

And fear not! I am a reasonable bisexual who believes in equality, male booby/booty versions are in the works!

WHAT YOU GET OUT OF IT:

I’ve been on Tumblr for thirteen years, got close to my now best friend and former best-woman at my wedding, and even met my wife here! I’ve gained a great following here who have always supported my many creative projects, and I’m incredibly grateful!

To thank Tumblr, I have a permanent coupon code in place for anyone who finds me here! Use code ILIKEYOURSHOELACES at checkout for 25% off your entire order!

IN CONCLUSION:

Love you guys!!!! Every purchase helps, ever review helps, and every reblog helps!!! I know this is a niche product, but you never know when someone you know or someone who follows you might love it!!!

248 notes · View notes

thebatdadnomad · 8 days ago

Text

ℕ𝕖𝕨𝕥𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕃𝕚𝕓𝕣𝕒𝕣𝕪

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN! Reader Summary: You register a hunk more nervous than a teenage boy and somehow become the reason he returns. A/N: I can be quite the homebody, but I recently went my local library so I could finally read Pride & Prejudice (I think you know why ehehehe) and I think you should go too! Unfortunately, I can't promise Jay'll be there, but I promise this fic will help you imagine what it would be like if he was ;D

It was a slow spring day when a tall guy built like a fridge walked into the library you worked at.

You lounged behind the reception desk doing your usual duties of watching the door as the man in a leather jacket, dark jeans and a grey shirt looked around. He had his hands in his pockets, surveying the area not unlike a cop would during a stakeout. That comparison wasn't unfounded too, you had a cop in here last week. This was Gotham, after all. And though this man was significantly less alert and visibly armed, it was similarly intriguing to watch.

You briefly wondered if the Cheetos some kids left behind that your co-worker was currently cleaning up had caught his eye as he slowly approached the desk. Whether this guy was worried a terrible aunt was hiding behind a shelf or a drug dealer. What else could explain why someone your age was looking around a library so suspiciously? You hoped he wasn't in trouble, or hell, that he wasn’t the trouble.

Fortunately, the closer he got, the better you could read his body language. His skittish teal eyes, him brushing back trimmed curly hair with white highlights in the front, his bulking arm and thigh muscles tensing up, his flushed face...It soon became clear that he wasn't dubious, just nervous. Which wasn't entirely uncommon either. And, you belatedly realised, unnecessarily attractive. To the point that you had to swallow a sudden warmth that bloomed in the pit of your tummy for the sake of professionalism.

Once he was in acceptable talking range, you beamed. "Welcome to Newtown Library, how may I help you?"

The man startled at the sound of your voice and you had to bite your lip to reign in a laugh when his anxious gaze landed on you and widened almost unperceivably. It was only perceivable because you grew up in Newtown, Crime Alley's neighbour area, and made a habit of noticing things like that.

He swallowed and then asked in a low voice. "I...I wanna get a library card?"

"Sure," you smoothly replied and grabbed a sheet of paper you kept nearby. "First, I need ID and proof of address."

"Oh shi— shoot," his gaze snapped back to you; he coughed then dug around for his wallet. As if censoring himself for your sake. "That necessary?" He sounded surprised by the request but didn't protest when you nodded and he gave you a student ID card and a medical card. "Do...Do these work?"

"Yup!" You grinned and handed them back a moment later. Herbert Jason Johnson. What a name. "Now, you just need to sign this form physically or digitally via our website."

"Digital is fine," he muttered, scanning the QR code you had ready and filling it out online for a bit. You took that opportunity to study him. His light warm toned skin, his slightly red cheeks and defined chest. Woah... "I'm done."

You perked up. "Nice. If you just wait here, I'll go get the library card options for you to choose from..."

But before you could move, he did. Leather jacket crinkling as he stared you dead on for the first time since he came in. "It's a'ight...I'll be happy to take whichever you choose for me."

"Really?" He grunted; your smile broadened. "Alright. Then, yeah. I'll choose one for you."

So, you walked further back into the desk area and brought them out. An octopus, some bubbles, a sunset, a cool motorcycle— oh, he might like the last one. It seemed like he might even own one himself.

"Hm," you hummed, giving it to him. "Here, it's got wheels with spikes on it."

Then something unexpected happened. He laughed. It was a strange little thing that only lasted a couple of seconds. His mouth was snarky in a way like it wasn't used to curving up and hadn't done so in a while. But his eyes weren’t. His shiny teal eyes practically glowed with honest, unsullied amusement. This, more than anything, made the warmth in the pit of your tummy grow.

"I can see that. I like it, thanks," he huffed, turning it over in his hand.

You knew you'd be thinking of him all day now. "You're welcome. Feel free to browse the library and borrow anything you want with that card. It should work right away, otherwise, let me know and I can help."

You hoped he would take the offer, but it seemed like meeting him had absorbed all of your luck. He shook his head. "Thanks, but I'll probably head out...bye."

You watched him make an exit with a sense of longing, then called after him. "Herbert, right?"

But the guy just paused in his footsteps, sent you a small, nervous smile and corrected you. "Call me Jason."

"OK!" You replied still smiling and soon the cute, extremely hot guy called Jason was no more. You hoped he wasn't like those one-hit patrons and would visit again when it was your shift.

Well, would you look at that? You did have some luck left.

Just like you had hoped, Jason came back six more times which was more than you expected. Better yet, three of those times were on the days you worked.

According to your nosy colleagues – who were more than happy to gossip about this with you – he usually browsed the library shelves as if at an exhibition of his favourite artist, dressed in clothing best suited for a street racing film. Never picking anything up or taking anything out no matter how many times your co-workers and even the patrons asked him if he needed help.

Jason kept to himself too. Stared at various book spines with a wistful gaze and made a point to avoid your eyes any time he noticed you peering over. Or, at least, that was the impression you had until one day, you caught him glancing over at you and you couldn't help but approach him to try asking yourself if he needed that help.

Jason looked like a deer in headlights when he saw you were making your way over with a wide smile which made the warmth in your tummy reappear.

"Hey!"

"Hey," he slowly replied, shoving whatever he was looking at back on the shelves and shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Are you okay?"

Jason coughed, trying to straighten himself out. "Yeah, yeah...fine."

"Hm," but it didn't seem like it. Should you not have come?

"So...what’s up?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just coming over here to ask you if you needed any help," you put a hand in front before he could deny you, hoping to convince him with a joking tone. "I know you usually just browse, but I mean, this is a library. So, we kind of assume that people are eventually gonna pick something up, not just look at them from the shelves, you know?"

But Jason seemed to take it seriously. "Oh, sorry. Am I doin’ somethin' I'm not supposed to?"

"No, no, you're fine," you quickly backtracked. "I'm just joking, you can browse all you want. But...usually, the people who always browse are either too indecisive to choose a book on their own and would perhaps benefit from some recommendations or—"

“What would ya recommend then?" He cut you off, but you could tell that instead of being impatient, he was asking out of eagerness. An eagerness that couldn't help but find endearing. Man, how could he be so cute and overwhelmingly hot at the same time?

"I…I'd have to know what kind of books you're interested in first."

"...What kinda books d’ya think I'd be into?"

You put a hand on your chin and hummed. "That's a hard question. That's like me asking you how old I look or something. But, OK. I'm always up for a challenge. Let's see..." you used this opportunity to check him out and oh my thighs—! "M-Maybe romance books or crime and mystery, no, action books?" You tried and waited for a moment on bated breath as Jason tilted his head in thought before nodding.

"Yeah...you're right."

You laughed and while he didn't laugh as well, his furrowed brows and small nervous smile were just as heart-warming.

"Are you serious? I got it right?"

"Yeah..."

"But half of those were jokes!"

"Maybe I'm a joke," Jason dryly replied.

"No!" You grinned. "I feel like you've read all the books here. Or, at least, you seem like you're familiar with them. So, maybe you should try something new? Something outside of those genres."

"Hm, well..." He looked down the row of books and sent a hesitant glance your way. "What do you like?"

That was the question, wasn't it? "Well, I guess really like hero and fantasy stories. So, I have lots of fantasy recommendations...is that alright?"

Jason shrugged. "Sure. What d’ya recommend?"

"Well, that, my friend, is gonna take me a while to answer," you joked again, acting all dramatic-like. "You sure you have the patience?"

And that finally got one of his odd chuckles out of him. "Go for it."

So, the pair of you browsed the relevant sections while you talked and talked about the different books you enjoyed. All of which he politely declined. Trying to find a fantasy book with action or romance or crime in it was a daunting task, one you didn’t have much hope for.

But then, just before you gave up hope and Jason lost his patience, you stumbled upon one of your favourites of all time. A book series full of all four subgenres that you thought would be perfect for him.

You pulled it out, beaming with a huge sigh of relief. "This is it. Take this."

"Er..." Jason flipped it around, contemplative, but you wouldn't let him turn this down too. So, you grabbed his hands and ignored how red both he and you suddenly got at the contact for the sake of him reading it.

"Trust me, don't even think. Just take this and read it. I promise you'll love it."

His eyes were slightly wider again as he stared at you, his hands, the book, and you again. Only replying when you let go. "OK...I...I trust you."

And you were happy he did because once he started that series, he couldn't put it down.

Ever since you recommended him one of your favourite books, whenever Jason visited the library, he came straight to you. To tell you what he thought before returning that novel and getting the next one.

You knew this was a temporary thing, most people didn't stay regulars for long, it was normal. So, you would appreciate this as long as you could.

The first book was brighter and energetic and it put him in a similar mood. It made him hyper – well, hyper for him – when he explained how much he enjoyed it and how ingeniously it was written.

"I just— loved the addition of a poem within a novel," Jason ranted, eyes shining with interest a few weeks after you initially checked it out for him. "It was amazing."

"I'm glad," you smiled as you locked eyes.

"...Me too," your tummy fluttered, his building familiarity and confidence around you only served to make you that much more attracted to him. Too bad he would likely stop coming at some point.

The next edition was a bit more mellow and so you had to go find him when he was putting it back two weeks later.

"Hey, you didn't come see me?"

“Oh...yeah, sorry."

Silence.

You watched him with wary eyes as he just stayed kneeling on the floor. You slowly lowered yourself too when he didn't move and only when he met your eyes with a blank gaze did you ask. Smiling as much as you could.

"How did you find it?"

Neither of you breathed until he answered.

"I...I kinda had a bad week and this book didn't help much."

"Oh," shit. "I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have—"

But he vigorously shook his head, bringing the pair of you back up to a stand when he noticed you down on the floor with him. "No. I still really liked it. It just kinda emphasised how fuc— friggin’ terrible my week was."

"Oh," you deflated a bit. That hadn't been your intention. "If you want to talk about it, I'm always here."

"…Really?"

"Yeah, of course. Contrary to what you look like, you're super sweet and I want to help you if I can."

He paused. "What do I look like?"

You had to pause, carefully considering how to put this. "Honestly...you look like someone who wouldn't come here to rant to me about some fantasy book series I recommended. Someone who spends more time drinking and partying than reading. Someone who wouldn't stop himself from swearing in front of me," you timidly touched your hair. "Like I said, you're super sweet and...I like hearing you talk."

Jason said nothing for a moment, poring over you as if trying to determine how truthful that statement was. But once he decided to believe you, you never would've expected that this shy, literary enthusiast hunk would actually tell you what was on his mind. Would even talk about a dangerous job, a complicated relationship with his family and a cooking habit.

Sure, he was very vague about it all but still. You couldn’t believe he was letting you peer into his life more than you had before. Or that you weren't the only one combusting inside when his hand accidentally brushed your waist before he left. But that day was full of surprises that almost made you forget that he would stop coming at some point. Most people did. He was no exception.

The saddest and lowest point in the series was the third book.

In contrast to the first few, Jason's reaction was starkly different from the tone of the book. In fact, he seemed relieved that it took a dive for the worst and read it through within a week this time.

"I really enjoyed the way the author used tragic flaws to tell amazing character arcs ‘n plots in a way that a lot of other stories don't. And it does it all in a cohesive fantasy setting..."

"I'm happy to hear that," you smiled.

He talked more about how the main character's struggles with identity and survival related to him, prompting you to share how they related to you too. Bonding over the book like you did last week, but differently this time. Because you were also sharing. It was mutual.

So mutual that, after you scanned the third book he brought in, Jason stole it from your hands telling you he was happy to put it back and go get the next one this time. You felt compelled to go with him to the right shelves. Intending to take it back from him at the last moment, shelve it and find him the next one in one swoop. It was your job, after all, and you wanted to spend as much time with him as you could even if he was trying to make work easier for you.

But, when the time came, Jason was reluctant to let go of the book. Too deep into his own mind and ranting to separate from it. So, with cheeks as hot as a stove, you replaced the novel with your hand and swapped them out. Handing him the book he needed a beat later.

And if you thought he blushed before...that had nothing on his face now.

Not that you were much better though.

"Are you excited to read the last one then?" You asked after a moment of quiet passed between you, your hands still loosely linked together.

"Y-Yeah," Jason quickly nodded, gaping at you with what could only be described as wonder. "I just don't know how this is gonna end exactly...but I have a sneaking suspicion that I'll like it. I'll tell you."

"Mhm! And just think, after I hear the full review, you won't have to come here and talk to me anymore, will you?"

You bet he would be happy about that. Just because you had gotten closer, didn't mean that he had become any more comfortable in the library. Your colleagues still said that outside of your conversations, he acted just as on edge as he had from the start, so you wouldn’t try to pressure him into coming back after finishing this one obligation of sorts.

Maybe libraries just weren’t for him and that was OK. Because while you'd miss him, you doubted there was anything to say to stop him from never returning. This is the digital age, people stopped visiting libraries for less. Way less.

It was best to be positive about the whole thing.

"Oh," Jason frowned, suddenly disentangling your hands and turning away so you couldn't see his face. "Yeah, you're right," he muttered before despondently leaving you by the shelf, borrowing the book on his own and literally dashing out of the library.

What the...?

No, no, there wasn't a point in pondering that. The last book...you could ask what that was when he returned with the last book. You could still leave this, whatever this was, on a good note once he was done with the last book.

You were relabelling some older editions of iconic titles when you felt a finger poking your back two days later.

"Oh!" You flinched as you finished the one you were on, then jumped once more when you recognised him as the culprit. "Jason! Hey! When did you come in?"

He seemed more anxious than usual as he bit his lip with furrowed brows. He was back far sooner than you expected, had he quit the finale midway? "Just now...since it's raining and everything, I thought I'd pop in and say hey."

It stopped raining an hour ago. "Ohhh kaaay...well, hey. What's up?" And why did he run off last time?

"Well, I just finished reading the last book of the series."

You blinked in surprise. That wasn't what you expected him to say. No, not at all. But it was a great series, you had binged it just as speedily when you first came across it. "Woah. That was quick, it usually takes you at least a week to read one."

Jason tried to shrug, but his shoulders were too rigid for it to come across flippantly. "Yeah, well, I guess I was just so into the story, I lost myself in it…it was real good."

After some light prodding, Jason started telling you his usual review, but it was detached for some reason. He was speaking more about the character he liked the most than how he resonated with the story and plots as he used to.

"I can already guess that most people probably preferred his brother, but I don't know. I just got him more. I wanted to root for ‘im. Especially after his lil redemption arc where he got all close and personal with the protagonist."

Jason kept going and you watched him with the books you had been in the process of reorganising in your hands, too distracted by the fact that this guy who you still didn't really know loved something you did to say anything else.

"I'm really glad that you enjoyed it!" You blurted out when he was done.

"Yeah, me too," he took a deep breath before turning to look at you directly. "That epilogue kinda...reminded me of us in a way, y’know?"

"Oh, yeah?" You began putting the books back, desperately ignoring the fluttering feeling in your stomach at his words. "How?"

"I mean, throughout the book, he kept explicitly and implicitly asking for help. Time and time again the MC he was in love with ended up being the one to help him until the end of the journey when they separated. And it's like what you do for me..."

"Mhm. I guess."

"But, of course…there's one difference. We've not...never…y’know?"

You choked and froze in place. Where was this going?

"But I've been thinking about what you said last time,” your eyes met his shiny teal ones. “Now that I'm done with the series and doing reviews or whatever...Unless you can recommend something else this good, I don't have any other reason to be here right now. Except," Jason studied you for a long moment as your eyebrows rose higher and higher and your face grew warmer. "You. My protagonist."

You didn't know what to say to that, except breathe. "We're in a public space."

That seemed to snap him out of it and he practically curled in on himself. Crossing his bulging arms, moving to face away from you as if browsing the shelves like before. "Y-Yeah, yeah, 'course! Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so f-fuck— friggin’ sleazy. It just came to mind—"

Suddenly, desperate to salvage this, you stopped what you were doing, took a step towards him and pressed a soft peck on his cheek before leaning away. Jason’s neck practically snapped back in your direction as he stared at you with an incredulous look on his face.

You...hadn't meant to do that, but now that you had. "It’s fine, I was just shocked…I wouldn't mind a little roleplay..." You whispered, not intending for it to sound so dirty but uncaring that it did. Was this why he left? Was he really thinking the same thing as you? Gah! You hoped so.

Jason was so cute and hot, you wanted to kiss him again. Properly this time. You wanted to be the reason he returned.

You wanted him.

Jason audibly swallowed and slowly uncrossed his arms. Asking, "You sure?" To clarify things. "Because I mean, like I said...you don' hafta."

You fully intended to reply with words, but something jolted through you again at the sight of his open arms. Prompting you to step forward to peck him on the lips this time. A shiver ran down your spine at the contact.

"No, I don't," you replied.

And that was what shut Jason up. That was what made him lean close to kiss you his way now.

It began as a series of pecks, simple pressings of lips together that made you go warm with delight. His lips were softer than you expected and he was way too gentle. But then things slowly developed into smooches that lasted longer and longer until you were melting in his arms.

Arms? Since when did he put his arms around you? They were secure as they kept you close and you pressed your chests together. As he touched your jaw and you gripped his shoulder. As your wet tongue slipped out and met his without a word, as if in sync. Hesitantly tasting each other in a way that put you out of breath because of the intimacy instead of the speed.

Jason was sweet, tasted sweet and looked sweet when you pulled back, quietly gasping with a string of saliva momentarily tying your tongues together. As if he had been holding himself back until this very moment and was only now letting you know what he thought of you.

It was as staggering as it was relatable.

His voice was unexpectedly fond as he mumbled. "I've wanted to do that for a while, but I didn’t have the balls. I...I wasn’t sure if you were interested."

That made you shake your head in amusement. How had he not noticed? "Jason, I was always interested in you. Why do you think I stop everything I'm doing to talk to you whenever you come in?"

He snorted despite how visibly embarrassed he seemed. "Because you're a good worker?"

"Please," you joked, revelling in the feeling of him tightening his big arms around you. "Even I can be selfish sometimes."

He smiled at you and you smiled back, basking in the unfamiliar but welcome lack of distance between you two. All until somebody somewhere coughed and you sprung apart. Right. You needed to get back to work.

Jason was the first to comment, rubbing the back of his neck as he sent you a weak smile. "Well...I'll let you get back to it."

"OK, but if you want to come back when we’re done that's OK too. We could go for burgers...?" You asked, grin widening at how awkward he was, even now.

"…Fuc— I mean…aw yeah."

You laughed out loud.

Fuck yeah, indeed. Because just like he was glad to know you’d always liked him, you were ecstatic to know that all that time you spent worrying about him never returning left you oblivious to the fact that you became the reason he did.

#tbdnm fic #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd x you #red hood imagine #gender neutral reader #x y/n #enchanthings

158 notes · View notes

bellfilmz · 3 months ago

Text

𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞

𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Season1!rafe x shy!reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in which rafe and reader are partnered for a school project and reader is convinced it's a sick joke.

In which rafe Cameron has a crush on his smart shy partner and sees this as a chance to pursue her.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

⸻

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron liked you?

No. That didn’t make sense.

Guys like Rafe didn’t go for girls like you.

You spent most of the night overthinking it, replaying his words in your head. By morning, you convinced yourself it had to be some kind of joke—maybe not a cruel one, but a joke nonetheless.

So, when you walked into school the next day, you made a decision.

You were going to avoid Rafe Cameron.

⸻

That plan failed immediately.

You’d barely made it to your locker when a shadow fell over you.

“Morning, smart girl.”

You stiffened.

Slowly, you turned, only to find Rafe standing there, just as confident as ever. His tie was, as usual, loose around his neck, and his sleeves were rolled up like he hadn’t even tried to follow dress code.

His gaze flickered over your face, amusement dancing in his blue eyes. “No good morning?”

You cleared your throat, focusing on your locker. “Morning.”

He smirked, leaning against the locker next to yours. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

“You sure? ‘Cause you look like you saw a ghost.”

You bit your lip, gripping your books tighter. You weren’t ready to have this conversation—not here, in front of everyone.

“I just—” You swallowed. “I have class.”

He raised a brow. “We have class together, remember?”

Right. Of course. Because fate clearly hated you.

You inhaled sharply before nodding. “Right. Let’s go.”

Rafe chuckled, falling into step beside you. “You’re acting weird.”

“I am not.”

“You totally are.”

You clenched your jaw, refusing to look at him. He wasn’t going to make this easy.

⸻

The day dragged on, and avoiding Rafe proved to be impossible.

Every time you turned around, he was there—sitting next to you in class, waiting by your locker, walking with you to the library like nothing had changed.

And, worst of all?

He was still being nice.

Still listening when you talked, still helping you with your books, still flashing that stupid smirk like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

So, at the end of the day, when he once again waited for you outside class, you snapped.

“Why are you doing this?” you blurted.

Rafe frowned. “Doing what?”

You exhaled sharply. “This. Acting like we’re—like we’re something.”

His jaw tightened. “I told you why.”

You hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. “I just don’t get it, Rafe.”

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling through his nose. “You really think I’d waste my time if I wasn’t serious?”

You bit your lip. “I don’t know.”

Rafe scoffed, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

You crossed your arms. “You have to admit, it’s weird. You’ve never talked to me before, and now, all of a sudden, you like me?”

“I’ve always liked you,” he muttered.

Your breath caught. “What?”

Rafe exhaled, glancing away. “I just—never said anything.”

You stared at him. He wasn’t smirking anymore. He wasn’t teasing.

He meant it.

Before you could say anything, someone else called your name.

You turned, finding one of your classmates—Jake Simmons—walking toward you.

“Hey,” Jake said, smiling. “I was wondering if you could help me study for the chem test? You’re, like, the smartest person in class.”

You blinked, caught off guard.

“Oh—um—sure?”

Jake grinned. “Great! Maybe we can meet at the library tomorrow?”

Rafe made a noise next to you—something between a scoff and a laugh.

Jake glanced at him, then back at you. “Unless you’re busy?”

You hesitated.

Rafe was your project partner. But… maybe a little space wouldn’t hurt.

“No, I’m not busy,” you said finally.

Jake smiled. “Cool. See you then.”

As he walked away, you turned back to Rafe—only to find his jaw clenched, his expression unreadable.

“What?” you asked.

He shook his head, stepping closer. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

Your brows furrowed. “Rafe—”

He leaned in slightly, voice low. “You can study with whoever you want,” he murmured, “but if you think I’m gonna just sit back and watch some guy try to take my place, you’re wrong.”

Your breath caught. “I—”

Rafe smirked, though this time, it was sharper. More dangerous.

“See you tomorrow, smart girl.”

And just like that, he walked away, leaving your heart pounding in your chest.

⸻

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫

⸻

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @angelicameron @rafecqmeronslove @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @jujubeaz @heartzfromluna @redlipstickgirlx

⸻

𝐀/𝐍: 𝐈 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 💕

#obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe blurb #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic

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imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul · 11 months ago

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The Prince - Chapter Two

A/N: Hi all! Thank you for all your love for chapter one! More excitement this chapter, I promise! Let me know what you think and if you'd like to be tagged. It's settling in that we won't see Jace for another two years :( but at least he made it through season 2 safely.

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader Word Count: 4.1k Synopsis: To Jace's distress, the reader continues to avoid him, until a gathering makes the two of them spend an evening together, where feelings become harder to deny.

Tag List: @rinisfruity14, @gaiaea

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Jace needs to see you again, as soon as possible.

The walk back to his quarters, Jace can hardly make sense of his feelings. Years ago, he had known you for a week, and fallen completely for you. In the time since he’s seen you, so much has changed. He knows you can see it, too. When you first saw him, you didn’t recognize the man who stood before you. He knew you instantly. The years had been kind to you, to say the least, but they hadn’t changed the woman he had initially fallen for.

In that time apart, he nursed his crush on you, keeping it close for the dark days he faced. He assumed it would stop being a comfort to him as time went on. He thought, if war ever came to an end, and you did finally come to King’s Landing, he would be past his feelings.

Seeing you again was a bolt to his heart, to his duty. He was to be married in a matter of weeks. He knew he shouldn’t be having these thoughts. But just walking with you, having your arm linked with his, made him feel more than he ever had with Baela. He loves her, but not in the way he wants to love the woman who will be at his side for the rest of his life.

The next morning, Jace is up early. He typically takes breakfast in his quarters, but now that you’re here, he hopes the two of you can fall back into your old habit from the Vale.

He is disappointed when he spends all morning with Lord Celtigar instead.

Jace is not to be dissuaded though. After breakfast, he looks for you in the library. You came to the Red Keep to further your studies – what better place to continue them than here? But after walking up and down the shelves, a task he hasn’t done since he was a young boy, he is left disappointed again.

And this pattern continues. For the next week, the only time he sees you is in passing. You’ll exit the room shortly after he arrives. He’ll find you speaking with Rhaena, and before he can get a word in edgewise, you find a way to dismiss yourself. He is finding it increasingly more difficult to not take your absence personally.

Up until then, he hadn’t been looking forward to the ball his mother was throwing in honor of the return of her younger sons. It had been months now since the war had come to an end, and still, he wasn’t sure he wanted to see so many faces he fought alongside, ones he fought against, who eventually bent the knee. But he knew that going was important to his mother, and to his future ruling. He also knew that you would be there, and it would be another chance to spend some time with you.

The evening of the banquet, Jace gets ready quickly. He waits in Joffrey’s room, teasing the younger boy at his discomfort in his new princely wear. It seems when he was in the Vale, the dress code wasn’t as strict. They walk down to the banquet together, greeting lords and ladies in passing.

Jace sits at the banquet table arranged in the center of the room. The table is already filling quickly, and as he does a quick scan of the guests, he can’t seem to find you. He assumes this is just another way you are going about avoiding him, but his head pops up immediately at the sight of blue in the doorway.

He spots you the moment you step into the banquet hall. The blue dress you wear clings to every curve of your body. The fabric is so soft, it looks like as if it’s made of water – as if one touch could break through its glossy surface. Your hair is down, and cascades down your back in long curls.

Jace is momentarily frozen in awe, but Joffrey elbows him, jarring him back to the present. Just before he looks away from you though, he catches your gaze on his.

The meal progresses as he expected. You are seated at the other end of the table, and although others have moved from their assigned seats and begun to mill about with friends, he isn’t so bold. He stays at the end with his family, watching with growing envy as Joffrey does what he can’t.

The younger boy has moved down the table, greeting old friends and introducing himself to new ones. Eventually, he stops in the empty seat next to you. When you see him, your eyes light up.

Jace watches as his brother tells you a story, making you throw your head back with laughter. He stares at the column of your neck, the easy way you laugh with Joff. As his jealousy grows, he tries to remind himself that Joffrey is thirteen, and it is only because you have known him for so long that you are comfortable around him.

He does not compare the way you look at Joffrey to the way you won’t look at him.

The night grows darker, and the table begins to clear. The guests, all well into their cups, begin to dance and break off into groups to gossip. In his cup as well, Jace finally musters up the courage to move closer to you. As someone gets up from the table, he takes their seat, ever moving closer to you, like he’s playing a game by himself, and the end goal is to be at your side.

When he finally does sit down next to you, your back is turned to him, your attention still fully on Joffrey. The younger prince’s eyes flick to him, and you look back to follow. You let out a small, surprised sound that has Jace questioning everything he knows about himself.

“Your Highness,” you say with a smile.

“Jace,” he corrects, smiling back. He glances at Joff, who excuses himself immediately. You bid him goodbye and smirk as you turn back to Jace. You are the only two people left at the banquet table, everyone else has moved into the room, dancing and drinking.

“I haven’t seen you,” he says, “How are you adjusting to King’s Landing?” Red warmth creeps over your cheeks, which Jace takes as confirmation that you were, in fact, avoiding him.

“It is a lot different than the Vale,” you say with a sigh, “I’m glad to have met Rhaena before I came here, she has made the adjustment easier.”

“You miss Lady Jeyne,” he says simply. Your eyes find his, a sad smile on your face.

“Yes,” you say with a nod. You are quiet for a moment, staring off at the small group of dancers. Jace considers asking if you’d like to join them, when you speak again. “That is not to say that I am ungrateful to your family,” you say, looking at him. He sits up straighter as he meets your eyes. “I am immensely glad to have met you and your brothers before coming here, too.”

“We all want you to feel comfortable here,” he says. “I’ve looked for you—”

“I know,” you say softly, your gaze falling to the goblet in front of you.

“I want to be someone you can turn to, too,” he presses, “I know Rhaena and Balea can get caught up in each other. You can always come to me when you are missing home, too.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” you say. Jace frowns at the title and it makes you laugh. It’s not as hard as the laugh you let out with Joffrey, but it warms him, nonetheless.

“I am having a gathering tonight,” he says, “I’d be honored if you would come.”

“Tonight?” you ask in surprise. “Is this current gathering not enough for you?”

“Mine will be much less stuffy,” he says, again making you laugh.

“Well, I’m not sure—”

“Please,” he says gently. Your eyebrows scrunch as you study his face, and Jace finds the look completely adorable. He bites back his smile so you can’t tell.

“Alright,” you say, nodding your head. “I’ll come.”

“Good. Now, how about a dance?” he asks, holding out his hand.

Jacaerys’s room is crowded, a fact you are grateful for as you enter its warm interior. With how full it is, you can pretend that your stomach isn’t in knots. You can pretend that you didn’t feel your heart flip each time Jace’s hand touched yours as you danced. You can pretend that his eyes didn’t burn each time they met yours.

Your plan to avoid him is going dreadfully, primarily because he seems to have enacted the exact opposite plan.

One dance turned into three, and only when you insisted that you were too tired to keep going did he take a turn with someone else. You watched him all night, the carefree smile that spread across his face when he interacted with his family, the way he always seemed to keep moving, never standing still for longer than a moment.

You are sure to be going mad. Just a week ago, you swore you would not be around him, unless absolutely necessary. Clearly, the crush he had from years ago had ricocheted to you, and you needed to steer far away from him. The evening was supposed to be spent meeting eligible suitors, not spending time with a man you knew was already engaged.

Rhaena stands across the room, talking with a lord you don’t recognize. She knows of your mission here. It is high time you enlist her to your task. But before you can get to her, a curly head of hair appears out of the corner of your eye.

“Y/N,” Jace says, drinks in hand. He extends one out to you. You take a hearty sip. You have not drunk much mead in your life, but if you’re to make it through this evening, you’re going to need it.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“You know,” you say, turning to him with a smile, “This room seems much stuffier in comparison to the banquet hall.” Jace smiles, surveying the room himself.

“I was not expecting everyone to say yes.”

“Who could say no to the crown prince?” you say. Jace’s gaze dips momentarily to your lips and you look away quickly. You tell yourself he could have been looking anywhere, that maybe you had a bit of mead stuck to your upper lip, but you know better than that. You seem to know him better than that, and you hardly know him at all.

“If you’d like,” he says, “I can find us a spot that’s less crowded.” You should say no. Rhaena is right across the room, talking to a very handsome man. You should be doing the same.

Jace’s hand touches the small of your back delicately, bringing your attention to him.

It might be the touch, or it might be the mead, it might very well be the way he’s looking at you, but you nod. He smiles and presses his hand to your back a tad more firmly, guiding you to a deeper section of his chambers.

He sits you down on a settee along the back wall of his chambers, just outside the door that leads into his bedroom. You are still in the crowd, but back here, it is quieter, and a bit more intimate.

“Better?” he asks.

“Better,” you say, smiling meekly as he sits next to you. Just as quick as he sits down, he gets back up. You watch him move across the room gracefully, stopping to chat with one of his servants. He gives her a kind smile, tells her something that makes her laugh, and pats her shoulder warmly. For some reason, the interaction makes your heart melt.

“Everything alright?” he asks when he comes back, breaking your attention from the crowd. You hadn’t even noticed he moved back towards you.

“Yes.”

Jace doesn’t leave your side for much of the night. He seems content to prove the friendship he offered you earlier in the night. He asks nearly everything about you, even the bad. You tell him about your father, about growing up with your title stripped. He listens intently, his gaze very rarely breaking from your own.

The mead has yet to stop flowing, and your head is starting to ache. You know you should call it a night. The room has begun to clear slowly. Jace sent Joffrey to bed an hour ago, much to the younger boy’s chagrin. There are still at least twenty people in the room, but Jace doesn't pay any of them attention like he pays you.

“What do you remember about your time in the Vale?” you ask, when it seems the two of you have run out of talking points. Jace studies you for a moment.

“I remember it’s beauty,” he says with a coy smile. You laugh into your goblet.

“Yes, I think everyone saw what you admired,” you tease.

“Was I so transparent?” he asks, laughing good-humoredly as a blush creeps across his cheeks.

“It was sweet,” you say.

“I’m sure it was quite pathetic,” he says, grinning at your laughter. “Joff says Lady Arryn found it particularly so.”

“Jeyne never said anything like that,” you say, “She thought it was endearing. It’s not in her nature to be cruel. Teasing, mocking, beating a joke to death? Those are her strengths.” Jace laughs, taking a drink of his own mead.

“So, what would she say?” he asks. “I can take it.”

“It’s stupid,” you say with a shake of your head.

“Tell me,” he says, scooting closer to you.

“She said a lot,” you say with a shrug.

“Y/N,” he goads gently. You look down at your hands, fiddling with the signet ring on your pointer finger.

“She said you fell in love the moment you walked in,” you say quietly. “And that she was surprised a kiss wasn’t included in the terms of your agreement.” He is blushing harder now, but the sight is adorable. He looks like he is going to say something, a half-smile growing on his face, when a guard draws his attention.

You recognize Ser Harrold immediately. He had been loyal to the Targaryens for years and was now Jacaerys’s sworn protector.

“A word, My Prince?” he asks, nodding his head politely to you.

“I’m sorry,” Jace says, standing. You shake your head and watch him cross the room. The loss of his presence gives you a moment to gather yourself. You cannot believe what you just told him. Cannot believe that you mocked his crush on you. If he ever speaks to you again, you’ll be amazed.

Ser Harrold shrugs at his prince, putting his hands up defensively, as if to say, “I’ve made my case.” You watch Jace sigh and move into the thralls of his guests. His first stop is next to Baela.

Whatever he is saying has her laughing, and it makes a strange feeling turn in your stomach. He has spent nearly all night with you, so what if he spends a moment with his fiancé? You want to call the feeling in your stomach anything but jealousy, but alone on this couch, you know that is what it is. You avert your gaze, hoping that if they are out of sight the feeling might subside, but it does not.

It is then you realize, this is not jealousy. Suddenly, a new feeling sweeps over you and in horror, you realize you are going to be sick. If you don’t leave Jacaerys’s quarters quickly, you are going to be sick in this very room.

As quickly, and as delicately as possible, you stand up. You leave your goblet with one of the passing maids, giving her a polite nod as you kept your lips sealed. You make your way through the group of people to the nearest exit and slip out. The hallway is cooler, much less crowded with only two guards at the door.

Your chambers are at least a five-minute walk from here. You are worried you won’t make it in time but are intent on trying. You pick up the hem of your dress to make haste, but don’t even get to the end of the hallway before you hear his voice, calling your name. It isn’t a command, you know you could keep walking, but he is your prince, and somehow everything he says can feel like a command.

You halt mid-step and turn to face him. You are breathing in through your nose, out through your mouth, something a maester had taught you years ago, as the prince jogs to catch up. Some of the dark curls around his face fall at his movement, and you watch intently as he flips them away.

“You didn’t say goodbye,” he says softly as he stops next to you.

“I’m sorry, My Prince, I—”

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Jace?” he asks. You give him a tight-lipped smile, feeling the mead churning in your stomach.

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I wasn’t feeling well.” His expression changes to something softer, understanding.

“Here, let me walk you back to your chambers,” he says immediately, putting a hand on your back to guide you. You arch from his touch and laugh gently.

“You have an entire party in there, Your Highness—”

“Jace,” he corrects firmly.

“Jace,” you say, looking at him with a sigh. “You have a party in there. It is a small walk; I shall manage on my own.” What seems more likely is that once you turn the corner from him, you will vomit into the nearest plant, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“And you are one of my guests,” he says, again putting his hand on your back. “It’s my responsibility to make sure that you return safely.” This time you don’t fight; you don’t have the time to.

You don’t say much on the walk to your chambers, and thankfully, it helps keep the sick down. As you see the door to your room, you let out a sigh of relief. Jace opens the door for you, letting you walk in first before following.

You’re not sure either one of you realizes that he’s in your room, a place he absolutely shouldn’t be, especially at night, until the door thuds close. You turn to face him, your breathing still shallow as you fight to keep the mead down.

“Thank you,” you say, “For escorting me back. I’m sure your party awaits—”

“Y/N,” he says gently, stepping towards you. “I feel like you’re trying to get away from me. I feel like you have been since you got here, up until tonight. Did I do something wrong?”

“No, of course not,” you say, inching away from him, only to be closer to the chamber pot.

“Then why are you running from me?”

“I’m not,” you say, taking another step back from him.

“You literally are, right now,” he says with a laugh. “If I did anything to upset you, I’m sorry. I know I can—”

His sentence is cut off when you can’t fight it anymore. You spin away from him, still too far from the chamber pot, and throw up into a nearby vase. Over the sounds of your heaving, all you hear from Jace is a muttering. You cannot be more embarrassed.

But then, to your immediate surprise, a warm hand pulls the hair off your face, and the other is soothing on your back. You retch a few more times, each time, Jace saying soft, encouraging words you can’t make out. Your maid, Brigitta, must walk in during this, because you hear Jace say something to her.

When you are done, you stand up straight, your stomach settling as embarrassment does, too.

“I’m so sorry, My Prince,” you say, immediately moving away from him, cheeks flaming. You move towards the pitcher of water and take a healthy drink from the glass to clear the taste in your mouth.

“Do you feel better?” Jace asks.

“I feel mortified.”

“Why?”

“Because I just hurled my guts out before my future king,” you say, taking another drink of water.

“I wish you wouldn’t worry about that. And you should be sitting down,” he says, moving towards you carefully, like he’s worried you’ll run again. He guides you over to your bed, sitting down next to you as he props up the pillows behind you. “I sent Brigitta to the maester,” he says.

“Thank you,” you say, relaxing against the pillow. You close your eyes for a moment, letting your stomach settle. When you open them again, Jace is watching you with a soft smile. He blushes when he sees you notice.

“Sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” you say.

“What—”

“I was avoiding you.”

“Oh,” he says.

“I just wanted to focus on my task here, I thought if I spent time with you, it would distract me from it.” A muscle in his jaw clenches but he nods. “And I’m sorry for what I said about your time in the Vale. I was being cruel—”

“You were right,” he says, meeting your eyes.

“I was?” you ask quietly.

“And Lady Jeyne,” he says. “I did really want to kiss you back then.” You can’t move, can’t say anything. “But tonight, after dancing with you, talking with you, bringing you back here, I have never wanted to kiss you more.” You look at him in awe, waiting for him to take it back, tell you he is joking. You can’t help but laugh.

“That cannot be true,” you say, “Did you not just witness what came out of me?” Jace laughs, his curls falling over his eyes.

“I did,” he says, “But I like taking care of you.” Your smile falls into a softer one. You realize how close the two of you are sitting – on your bed, nonetheless. His eyes are on yours, and the intensity in his makes your cheeks warm.

“You are too kind, Your High—” He cuts you off with a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“Jace,” he corrects.

“Jace,” you repeat. His eyes brighten at the name. Somehow, you have gotten even closer still, his kiss bringing him closer. Without knowing it, your fingers are on your cheek, where his lips had been. Jace smiles, and in this moment, you don’t want to fight your feelings. He leans in first, but you follow. Just a breath away from his lips on yours, and then –

“Alright, m’lady,” Brigitta says, walking into the room. Jace is up before you even realize, nodding to your maid. “Maester says this should do the trick.” She hands you a small vial, and then looks up in surprise at Jace. “Your Highness, I didn’t realize you were still here.”

He picks up his head to answer, a blush on his cheeks, a look that only endears him to you, but you cut in, “He was just keeping an eye on me until you returned. I’m sure his party is eager to have him back.” He searches your face, then nods.

“Of course. I hope you feel better, Y/N,” he says, nodding to you. He turns away but you can see the smile on his face as he leaves your room.

You were going to kiss him. Jace is certain of this, as he begrudgingly walks back to his small gathering. You were going to kiss him, and if Brigitta had been a minute later, he would have felt your lips on his.

He had emboldened himself to even kiss your cheek, and just that touch had sent him nearly spiraling. It’s true, he had loved you from the start. Five years older than him, you were everything he thought a woman should be. With lovely curves, a full mouth, and long hair he wanted to tangle himself into, he had fallen easily.

But when you had met those years ago, you saw a boy. He thought he saw the change in you when you came to King’s Landing, but the way you were looking at him tonight, looking at him all night, you saw the man he had become. And it seemed like your avoidance of him had little to do with finding a suitor, and more to do with the fact that you had feelings for him, too.

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon fanfiction

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taylor-titmouse · 5 months ago

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SO i've mentioned it here in passing a few times that my day job is graphic novels, but i haven't much promoted anything because i was waiting to get closer to release, and also it's YA and about teenagers and not, you know. what i usually post about here. but now that the first book releases at the end of the month (Feb 25th!) i figured i should point you guys toward it! this is my ~debut~ in traditional publishing, a completely original work (in that i wrote and illustrated it myself) and, imo, very very good and you should get it.

right now until midnight 2/7 there is a sale on barnes & noble where if you use the code PREORDER25 you can get 25% off on a pre-order of it! i Highly recommend getting the hardcover, i just got a shipment of my comp copies and they're fckin gorgeous. but paperback and ebooks are also available.

anyway you're probably curious what it's about, so here's the sales copy!

A specter is haunting the Atlantic! After growing up together on the luxurious SS Lark, Neeta Pandey and Emery Botwright are ready to start their lives. Emery wants to follow in his father’s footsteps and sail the Lark forever, while Neeta yearns to travel the world. But neither will have any future at all if the Lark’s new owner, Mr. Honeycutt, has his way. Mr. Honeycutt . . . The first-class passengers adore him, while he makes the ship a nightmare for the crew. Twisted by unnatural appetites, the rich are actually transforming into something less than human, and their insatiable demands soon push the staff toward a—quite literal— burnout. Something otherworldly is undeniably aboard the SS Lark, something horribly hungry. But it’s not Wick Farley: vampire, secret agent, and paranormal investigator. Alone and at sea, with only Neeta and Emery to help him, he must uncover the truth about Mr. Honeycutt. And fast—before a ravenous craving for power consumes them all.

i've been working really hard on this thing (first started developing it in 2019!) and it's super exciting to be able to hold it in my hands, and i want YOU to also hold it.

if you don't want to get it from b&n or miss the sale, you can also get it from bookshop.org, booksamillion, or just your local bookstore/library if you ask 'em. definitely do ask your library, that's still a sale for me!

anyway thank you for checking out this slight diversion from the usual fare. i'll try to have something more in line with the regular programming for tonight, but pwease buy my book :^) my first Real book :^)

#tt art

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arjudy224 · 9 months ago

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The Intern: Outreach Gala

Another uneventful day for Gotham's environmental intern...

The Intern: Gotham x reader

Prequel: Death of a family

The Intern: Day one

The Intern: The Laughing Fish

The Intern Field Trip

The Intern: Busy Work

The Intern: Outreach Gala

The Intern: Teachers Pet

The Intern: Visiting an old friend

The Intern: Chemical Valley

The Intern: Billionaire Boys Club

Gotham's public library appears unrecognizable under the cloak of night. Broad leaves shroud the outside exterior of the Gothic pillars while ivy cascades down the large door frames. Harris raises an eyebrow.

"How many forests do you think Wayne destroyed in his quest to save the planet?" He questions with a smirk.

Each grey hair is perfectly gelled out of his face. Ditching his glasses for the occasion, Dr. Harris may actually care about tonight's guests. The bouncer outside the door seemed to think the dress code was not a laughing matter.

Taking his extended arm, I roll my eyes. The security guy nods to the two of us as we walk through the door.

"Professor, if you keep saying things like that Gordon's going to question your stances on Gotham's resident Eco-terrorist. " I whisper with a smile. "....but at least 12."

Thanks to the joint collaboration between Wayne Industries, Goth-corp, and the Gotham Department of Environmental Protection. Gotham City is hosting its first Environmental Outreach Gala for the nearby tri-state area.

My heart flutters a little bit as a realization hits me. I’m actually here… surrounded by giants in clean energy and the scientific community alike. Award-winning journalists... All for the future of our planet. Passing my reflection, I smile thinking of how far I’ve come from that little river rat back at home.

A figure in the corner of my eye draws my thoughts away from the Grandma debrief. Dick Grayson, the Billionaire’s son, charms the group of ladies by his side. I take a mental note to find time to talk to him when there isn’t such a big crowd. It's been a long time since we last spoke.

The walls echo with the idle chatter coming from the rich socialites of Gotham. Waiters in tuxedos maneuver silently with a tray of champagne flutes in each hand. Considering, that most environmental professionals wear cargo pants from the early 2000s to work... the dress code was definitely a choice. I scan the room for familiar faces. Gordon flashes me a smile from across the room. I nod back. The Mayor works his way around the room with a large smile. It must be an election year.

My throat gets tight. I'm not ready for this. Looking to my right, I find that Dr. Harris has vanished into the crowd.

"Y/N L/N?" A voice calls distracting me from my nerves.

A well-dressed man strolls over. Something about him puts me on edge. Maybe it's his wicked smile or the large emerald ring on his outstretched hand. He walks with an easy air of confidence.

"Lex Luthor."

My heart does a little tap dance in my chest. The tight fabric of my rental dress makes it hard to breathe. I shake his hand politely. The party-goers go quiet around us. From the corner of my eye, Lois Lane, an investigative reporter from Metropolis, shoves through the crowd. So much for being a fly on the wall.

"I recently worked with a Professor of yours. She had a lot to say about your graduate proposal."

This cannot be happening. Memories of those long fights in the lab flash in the back of my mind. Mr. Luthor's cat-like gaze observes my reaction curiously.

I cover my face in embarrassment. That woman deserves hate mail. I could have at least been asked to type or spell-check it beforehand.

"To be frank, I originally chose the topic to get a rise outta her. Dr. Hendrix had me doing dishes for 3 weeks straight after I accidentally messed up a sample, so I wrote a proposal I knew she wouldn't like."

When I finally uncover my face, Luthor stares down at me with an amused grin.

"Even so. I'd like to discuss potential funding opportunities in Metropolis. If this is something you would think up out of boredom, I'd love to see what you can do when you put your mind to it."

That brings a smile to my face.

"Really? Everyone who I've brought it up to has been apprehensive about researching Kryptionian radiation.

"We need more scientists to ask questions Ms. L/N. Even the ones, that people don't want to know the answer to. "

The sullen green glow draws my eye once again to Mr. Luthor's ring finger... Wait, that's not an emerald. That's Kryptonite.

"Is this a personal interest of yours?" I ask slowly glancing between his eyes and his ring.

"In some ways."

An unspoken conversation occurs when he notices my acknowledgement of his strange choice of jewelry. The silence only creates more questions. Why would you wear something you know is irradiated?

"I hope to hear from you soon." Mr. Luthor concludes after handing me a business card, "There is always a spot at Lexcorp for a future scientist with your talents."

I stand there in silence watching him leave. The sleek modern design of the card lists only the bare essentials: his name, office address, and contact information in silver lettering.

Four hours ago, I was hauling boxes for the decorating committee. Huh. A nearby waiter offers a champagne flute from the tray. Respectfully, I turn them down. This dress costs more than my rent.

“Oh no. Thank you. I am… working.”

"Does work-life balance not apply to interns?” A voice interrupts.

I try not to roll my eyes at the "intern" comment. The constant reminders of my status are getting old. Starting at his perfectly buffed dress shoes, my gaze drags along the fabric of his black designer suit. Dick Grayson sure does like to make an entrance. With his dark curls and friendly blue eyes, his familiar smile knocks over my defenses. Sipping on his drink, he waits for my response with a teasing grin. His energy is contiguous. I ignore his question to ask my own instead.

“Has anyone told you that you tend to appear out of nowhere?”

His striking eyes light up with a mischievous glint.

“You have no idea.” He laughs, "It's nice to see you back in Gotham. It's been a long time."

"It has. From the rumors, you have been up to quite a bit of trouble." I joke gesturing to the envious eyes from across the room.

He raises a curious eyebrow.

“Good things I hope?”

Glancing around the room, I ignore the dozen eyes staring daggers in my direction. Academia can be such a bitch.

“Nothing too crazy: a few murders, unfounded accusations, and you might be an alien?”

Dick grimaces while tilting his head ever so slightly. He swirls his drink, yet doesn't take a sip.

“Sounds about right. Anything you believe? “

I pause... Do I play coy?

“I’m not sure an alien could do a quadruple summersault.”

Something flashes in his eyes that I don’t quite understand. For a moment, I wonder if I should have held my tongue. His suspicion morphs into the first genuine smile I've seen all evening.

“You’ve kept tabs on me Y/N.”

Before I can respond, a scream causes the ballroom to descend into chaos. Vines shoot out from under the floorboards while the native plants start attacking the guest. A woman with flaming red hair paces the floor. Her vines wrap around each person one by one…. A thorny bush springs out of a fallen leaf snagging my delicate rental dress.

Dammit Pamela. We talked about this.

Glancing at the bartender's horrified expression, I frown.

“I change my mind. I’ll have that drink now.”

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kara-knight · 10 days ago

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I've seen Jedi reciting the Resol'nare plenty of times in fic. What I love in Jedi/Mandalorian relationships though is when the cultural exchange flows both ways. So, where are the Mandalorians reciting the Jedi Code?

There is emotion, yet there is peace.

They could be sitting in meditation with their Jedi partner/s because even if they cannot touch the Force, they've found this quiets their buzzing mind, and it's like their Jedi taught them how to breathe again. (The serene face of their Jedi sitting in the sunshine with their eyes closed, their lashes casting tiny shadows on their cheeks as they reach out to the universe, to the Manda, to the Force? Well, thats not half bad either.)

There is ignorance, yet there is knowledge.

Understanding is entwined with intimacy, and the foundations of your relationship are being built of beskar when you care, when you try to understand what is so fundamental to the world of the person you love. So much of Jedi culture is based on teaching and learning. When you're a Mando who could only guess at what is truth and what is legend about the Order though youve heard a lot of wild tales, every time you're at the Temple its not just your Jedi, its all the knights, masters and right down to the younglings who want to share their knowledge. That's how it begins to feel like home. (And the Jedi library? You've never seen anything that could hold a candle to it.)

There is passion, yet there is serenity.

You never knew Jedi could get angry before you spent any time with them. Just hadn't thought about it. Now you could see it, clear as day. They were shaking with it, silently burning up with it. And yet they did not act. "There's kids in there. They've got ad'ike, younglings!" You gesture sharply towards the warehouse you've been scouting out that should've been abandoned. From your vantage point, through the high windows you can both see heavily armed beings shoving around children. The zoom on your HUD lets you see the tear tracks on their faces. You start forwards, ready to jump off the ledge, jet-pack roaring. "Stop." Bare fingers close around your gloved hand. Fierfek, sometimes you wished they'd wear more armour than one white vambrace swirled with gold like you'd seen on the Temple Guards and its pair, your own bright painted beskar. You take a breath and you can see your Jedi's chest rise and fall in time with it. You could break their grip, their hand, but you won't. Not never. You trust them. They're as angry as you are. You trust them to see what you can't. "Why? What do you think we should do?" "If we go in there 'sabers and blasters blazing, it'll be the kids who'll get hurt. Not us. Not those shabuir'e who are doing this. Those kids." "Ka'ra. Oh Force. You're right." They don't rub it in, just nod grimly. "We do this my way. We do this carefully, and Force willing, everyone goes home tonight." You slide your hand through their loosened fingers to slot them together, to hold them. They lean in and press your foreheads together.

There is chaos, yet there is harmony.

Jedi go through lightsaber katas like they are not only fighting but creating, footsteps soft, barely brushing salle or sparring circle floor. They dance. When they fight, they are a whirlwind of flashing, shrieking plasma. It's blue, it's yellow, it's green, it's purple, it's all so bright, raining down like the long ago monsoons of Mandalore's jungles. It takes a far more skilled warrior to wound not kill in the tulmult of combat as those burning blades find their mark. And you follow them, stepping in where they leave themselves open (they know you'll be there), staying close even as searing light skims over your head (they know you'll be there), walking away from the fight to finish the rescue no matter how much it pains you, letting them dive into the fray alone (because they know you'll be there). (The Ka'ra and the Force shine upon you. You take the kids home together. You all get out.)

There is death, yet there is the Force.

When they watch their Jedi use the Force, it feels like the universe itself is in the room. Their Jedi laughs and tells them that the universe has been here all along. The Force flows through us, the Force protects us, and the Force ties us together. It is part of all of us since before we became us and we will be part of it for always after us. It doesn't end, it doesn't need to begin, it just is. We are the universe, you and me, we are our two peoples whether they fight or die side by side, hand in hand. It is the Temple and it is Manda'yaim. It goes beyond the galaxy and all we know and love, it is all we know and love. We are something and we are everything.

So, what if there are Mandalorians also reciting the Jedi Code? What a beautiful universe we could be creating.

#jedi #mandalorians #jedi x mandalorian #mandalorian x jedi #jedi appreciation #i hope that i dont need to say this but if you feel argue takes that amount to 'but the jedi suck'. you are not welcome here.#we need to appreciate BOTH jedi and mandos. thats the whole point of jedi/mando ships! they are both fascinating peoples and cultures #there is so much to explore!#yes i am thinking about #feejastar #in particular and there are a few easter eggs to that here #jaster mereel #tarre vizsla #feemor #also mandos appreciating jedi culture in my fic? absolutely they shall be.

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scarletwinterxx · 8 months ago

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game boy - jeon wonwoo imagine

hiiiiiii ~ i know i'm not the only one kicking their feet whenever this man appears on the screen. I can't get him out of my mind (even if i try)😅😅hope you like it!

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"Since when are you into gaming?" the voice from behind you asked, you immediately put your phone down as your roommate take the seat across from you.

A knowing smirk on her face.

"Since I was a kid, I'll have you know I'm a pro at building houses in Sims" the lie slides out so easy you almost thought your roommate believes it

"Oh so not because you think that gamer dude is cute?"

It's not the first time she's seen you watching his live, sometimes she can hear it from your room behind the closed door or your phone sitting on the counter as you wash dishes.

Maybe you really are into gaming or a bigger maybe you might be into the dude who's gaming.

"Who? Him? I just scrolled past his live, totally random" you shrug your shoulders

"Mhm, so I didn't hear you squeal last night when he went live after going on a break for a month?"

"How did you know he was on a break?" you ask

"How did YOU know?" she asks back. She caught you there, when you don't say anything she just laughs. "It's okay to admit if you're crushing on him, I'd understand. He's all yours though"

"I don't have a crush on him"

"Mhm and I'm not failing Spanish"

"You know what I'll leave you here, you need to study and I need to go" you tell her while you gather your stuff on the table, "You're not actually mad right?"

You chuckle at her question, "You weren't wrong so I can't be mad. Anyways, bye"

It took a few seconds for her to process what you just said, by the time she did you're already out the library.

You walk out the campus premises, the weather's great so you decided to just walk. You put on you're earphones and enjoy the scenery, your feet on auto-pilot ready and set to take you to your destination.

When you got to the building, you let your self in and giving the building's doorman a wave on your way to the elevator. You punch the code on the keypad to let yourself in, the inside of the apartment a stark contrast from the bright sun outside. The black out curtains are drawn making the room dark like it isn't 4pm right now.

You take your shoes off and put your stuff down before getting your phone to see if Wonwoo is streaming and sure enough he was.

He's also a student in your university, he streams when his schedule lets him. Whenever you're alone you let his videos play in the background, kind of like a white noise for you.

You get some snacks from the kitchen, then walk to the window to let some light in before getting comfortable in the living room while you finish some of your pending works.

After a while you hear Wonwoo say goodbye to the stream then the screen turns dark. You turn your phone off, putting it back down on the coffee table.

From down the hall, you hear the door open then footsteps coming towards the living room.

Wonwoo spots you immediately, sitting on the living room floor with books and notes infront of you and your phone lying on the side. You must've been watching him.

"Oh, when did you get here?" he smiles at you, walking towards where you were then taking the vacant space on the floor beside you. He sits sideways so he's facing you, legs resting on either side of you.

"Like 30 minutes ago, you were in the middle of your stream so I thought I should finish some of this" you point at the piles of paper infront of you before turning your attention back to him "You had fun? You probably missed streaming"

"It's fun, some of the viewers and a few followers asked where I was last month I just said I needed a break" he smiles back at you, tucking a few strands of hair back then giving your ear a pinch making you giggle at the action.

That short break was actually the two of going on a trip as your first anniversary celebration. He surprised you with a trip outside the country for two weeks, just in time for term break so it worked out fine.

He could've streamed while the two of you were away, he has a laptop he could bring or stream when you got back after the trip but instead he chose to spend that time with you. It was nice having his undivided attention. Not that he ever made you feel ignored, never.

"You'll break so many hearts when they find out you're not actually single" you let out a short laugh

"I never said I was, after our first date whenever someone asks if I'm single I would say no" he says to you

"1st date? but that was such a long time ago" you recall the memory of your first day. You've been crushing on him for a while, like since you first saw him, and by some miracle one day he asked you out on a date. The two of you went to the aquarium then dinner. He courted you for a while before the two of you became an official couple, but even before that you already know you weren't going to let go of him that easy.

Here you are now a year later.

"I know" he shyly admits.

"So what do you say? You just say you're taken?"

"Kinda, I don't like talking about my personal life online so I just answer in the most simple way. I never denied I had a girlfriend so I guess it's up to them if they didn't get it" he shrugs

"Huh, I didn't"

"Huh?"

"I watch your streams, guess I never caught on"

"You watch my streams? Until now?"

"Yeah, I like watching you. It's comforting, kinda like my own comfort show"

He knows you watch him, whether you're in the same room as him or here in his home or when you're back at your own place you always tune in his stream. You really are his biggest fan.

"You know my roommate is starting to catch on, she thinks I have a crush on this 'gamer dude'" you make air quotes at the nickname, this makes Wonwoo chuckle

"Do you now?" he teases

"Yea, I think he's kinda cute. Apart from that time he wore that black button up. I was ready to throw hands"

He laughs at that, remembering just how you barged in his gaming room after the stream ended.

"You're never letting that go are you?"

"Never, you looked so good I almost grabbed you out of the screen. Not fair they get to see how hot my boyfriend is"

Wonwoo blushes at your words. Those words being used to describe him isn't new to his ears, but it's different when you say it. He can feel the butterflies flutter in his stomach, something only you can do.

Not even the scariest game can make his heart race like you.

"Do you want do drop by on my next stream or whenever?"

"Drop by?"

"I mean like just... be there. If you wanna show your face it's okay but if you don't want to it's okay too. No pressure. I don't want you thinking any of those faceless names on my screen can ever replace you" letting the words tumble out one by one because your gaze is making him nervous

You just stare at him as he talks, slowly a smile forming on your face then you're attacking him with a hug

"You're so cute, you know that?" you mumble against his neck where your face was pressed against, he chuckles at your question. Tugging you closer to him until you're straddling his lap

"Just making sure you know"

"I know, I always know. Don't you worry about that, just do you okay? I'll be here right beside you always. No matter what it is you want to do"

And he knows that too. You've always been his cheerleader, the one who always talks him into things he never thought about doing. In a way, you brought him out of his comfort zone in the most comforting way. You being there always eased his mind.

He smiles at you again before closing the distance between the two of you, giving you a kiss like he's saying he missed you today or all those days you weren't with him. He just always makes you feel like you're meant to be there with him.

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