#imagine you have direct contact with a god and you're like so cool! so everything is going according to your divine plan right?!

[misterradio]

I like this exchange in Tron (1982) ::-]

- If you are a User, then everything you've done has been according to a plan, right? - You wish. Well, you guys know what it's like. You just keep doing what it looks like you're supposed to be doing, no matter how crazy it seems. - Well, that's the way it is for Programs, yes. - I hate to disappoint you, pal, but most of the time, that's the way it is for Users, too. - Stranger and stranger...

[thedaredevilsgirl]

Chapter Two - Vibrating

Warning: Smut (vibrator use, fingering and dirty talk)

Word count: 1,817

I'm starting to think I'm terrible at writing smut, but I swear I'm trying to improve. I hope you like it

You and Tom have always been close, everyone knew that, but after the events of the last week it seemed that you were even closer. He was always waiting for you so you could go to campus together, walking you to your class and taking you to the library before you went back to the fraternity.

"Megan said she is waiting for me in front of the library and can take me home later, so you don't have to wait for me today." You say to Tom as they walked to the library.

"Are you sure honey?"

"Yeah, see you later" you turn to look at him.

"Can I come to your room tonight?" He asks with a mischievous smile on his face.

Every time he smiled like that it made you nervous, you nod your head positively and he steps closer tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear before bending down a little to be your size and whispering.

"I can't wait to touch you again angel," you feel your whole body shiver at those words.

Tom leaves a kiss on your forehead and goes in the opposite direction from you.

When you turn to enter the library you see Megan with her arms crossed in front of her body looking at you suspiciously, you approach her and she pulls you inside the library quickly making you sit on one of the tables and sitting in front of you.

"You're going to tell me everything that's going on right now," she commands.

"What are you talking about Megan? Nothing is going on" you try to cover it up.

"Y/N I'm not an idiot, why are you and Tom suddenly so close?"

"We've always been close" you answer as if it's obvious.

"Yes, because he is your brother's best friend, but now you are acting like a couple, like you are fucking...OH MY GOD YOU ARE FUCKING" some people who were inside look at the two of you angrily.

"Keep your voice down please, and no, we are not fucking...not yet at least."

"Oh my god, what do you mean not yet?" She asks agitated.

"I asked him to teach me how to fuck" you say softly and embarrassed "he said yes and maybe he gave me a oral earlier in the week" you admit all at once.

She puts her hands over her mouth to avoid screaming again, and you can see the excitement in her eyes.

"Finally you're doing something about your feelings," she says with a smile.

"I don't have feelings for him" "A seriously" she rolls her eyes" You have liked him since first grade and he likes you too, you just never did anything because your idiot brother would kill him"

"That's not true" he tries to defend himself and she just looks at him with disdain.

"You can literally feel the sexual tension between the two of you."

"Anyway, it's just sex Megan, nothing else is going to happen, I just need the experience." You say. She suddenly gets up from the table again drawing glances at both of you.

"Get up" she says quickly grabbing her things.

"What? Why? I thought we were going to study".

"No, we're going shopping".

•─────✧─────•─────✧─────•

When your friend Megan said you were going shopping, you thought she was talking about going to some clothing store, but that's not what happened.

"Why are we here?" You ask Megan as soon as she has you enter a sex shop getting a blush as you look at the things there.

"I just thought since you started your sex life you might want a few things" She says laughing.

"If I had known you were going to act this way I wouldn't have told you" you roll your eyes "can we please leave".

"No, come on Y/N, have some fun, I know this isn't really your thing, but I guarantee that once you try it you will like it, you just need to give it a chance" she speaks while looking for something specific in the store.

"Try what exactly?" "

Here" she takes something from one of the shelves before turning to you again "try this on" she puts the box in your hand.

"No, no way" you turn red as you hold the small box of bal vibrator in your hand.

"Y/N, think along with me, you tonight, going into Tom's room and saying you want him to use this on you" she points to the vibrator.

You can picture exactly the scene perfectly and it sounds wonderful.

"I'm sure you'll kill him with a hard-on just by suggesting it, and you'll still have a wonderful orgasm, so...will you try it?" She ask.

"Ok, fine" you give in.

"Great" she smiles "don't worry, I'll pay, thank me after Holland makes you cum".

•─────✧─────•─────✧─────•

You ran to your room as soon as you arrived at the fraternity, only to take the vibrator out of the box and clean it, You also changed your lingerie for one that you had just bought. You wanted to impress Tom a little tonight.

As soon as you get dressed again and hide the small vibrator in the pocket of your sweatshirt you finally make your way to Tom's room.

"May I come in?" You ask knocking on Tom's bedroom door.

"Hey" he says as he opens the door and gives you room to enter "I was just on my way to your room, I thought you'd be here early" he locks the door.

"Megan and I decided to do some shopping" you say smiling and sit down at the study table.

"Did you buy anything interesting?" You ask curious.

"Yeah, I mean we went to some cool stores, forever 21, Gap, Victoria Secrets and Megan took me to a sex shop" you say as if it wasn't something interesting and Tom looks at you surprised.

"Megan took you where? He asks, maybe he had heard you wrong.

"To a sex shop," you shrug.

"Why?" he asks walking over to you and standing between your legs.

"I wanted to see something" you say a little nervously taking the small vibrator from your pocket "actually I wanted to try something"

"What?" Just imagining you going to a sex shop made Tom horny.

"I want you to use this on me" she puts the dildo in his hand.

He sighs as he looks at the vibrator and soon after he is kissing you desperately, his hands grip your waist tightly pulling you closer to his body.

Your shirt is the first to be removed and he stops for a moment just to look at your body, trapping his lower lip between his lips when he sees the red lingerie on your body.

"Do you like it?" He asks running his fingers gently over the strap of the bra "I bought it with you in mind."

"I think it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen." He helps you remove your skirt without you having to get off the table.

"Can you take your shirt off too, please?" He smiles and removing his shirt, his hand touches your abdomen the direction before pulling you in for another kiss.

His fingers touch the inside of her thigh trailing towards her intimacy, both fingers touch the delivery catching the wetness and he brings them to his mouth closing his eyes as he feels her taste again on his tongue. His breathing fails, you never thought you would see anything hotter than this.

"Are you sure you want to try this baby?" He asks to make sure it felt comfortable.

"Yes, please."

He finally takes the vibrator and turns it on at the lowest speed.

First he slides it down the length of your neck stopping the vibrations right at your pulse point, you close your eyes and feel him moving further down, from the top of your breasts to your nipples making them hard against the lacy fabric of your bra.

"Stop teasing me, please," you plead, and he just smiles.

The vibrations travel down your belly and you feel your breath hitch as he reaches for the bar of your panties, he looks at you for confirmation and you say yes.

The vibrator finally touches your clit and you feel like you might die, but the vibrations are turned off soon after. You look at Tom trying to understand why he had stopped.

"Don't worry honey, just getting it out of the way" he says pulling your panties off your body.

He turns the vibrator back on and puts it in contact with your clit, he moves it down into your folds teasing your wet entrance, sighing you throw your head back feeling the pleasure in your body. Tom leans only his body on yours and leaves wet kisses on your neck.

"Tom, please" you moan gripping the curly locks of your hair tightly

"I need more". He chuckles against her neck before bringing the vibrator again to her clit along with his thumb making a circular motion.

"Don't stop please" she pleads.

"You don't know how beautiful your moans are love" he whispers to you and lets a light bite on your earlobe increasing the speed of the vibrator.

"Fuck, Thomas, I'm going to..." You close your eyes tightly feeling a tasty sensation in the pit of your stomach indicating that you were about to cum.

"I got you angel, cum for me".

Your body obeys his command and you come with a loud scream of his name, he turns off the vibrator but continues with the finger movements until you come down from orgasm.

You hug him tiredly letting your head fall on his shoulder, he quickly picks you up in his lap and lays you on his bed.

"Are you okay?" He asks pulling your hair out of your face.

"Yes, thank you."

"You need to stop thanking me for this" he smiles.

"Never, not until you stop giving me orgasms" she laughs a little before closing her eyes.

He lies down next to her hugging her body and sleeping next to her for the first time.

•─────✧─────•─────✧─────•

You wake up the next morning alone in Tom's bed, desperate to get out of there and not be caught by your brother, and sneak out of the room quietly.

When you are finally ready for your day and go downstairs to the kitchen you see Tom and Harrison having coffee alone since the other guys in the house were slow to wake up.

"Did you sleep well?" Harrison asks as soon as you enter the kitchen.

"Yes" you put the coffee in the cup and sit down next to him "Very well" you say looking at Tom.

"And you?" he asks Tom "did you bring any girls home last night?"

"What do you mean?"

"Dude, your room is next to mine, I heard all the moaning" Harrison says laughing and you choke lightly on your coffee "Don't stop, Oh Thomas, keep going I'm going to cum" you say imitating a female voice.

"Did you hear everything?" Tom asks nervously.

"Yeah, I don't know who the girl was, but I hope you made her cum at least," he says debauched.

"Yes, I did" he says smugly giving a cocky wink.

He walks past you to put the cup in the sink and when Harrison is not looking he whispers in your ear.

"And I hope for several more".

TAGLIST

@cherryobx

@a-daydreamers-day

@bevanbexley5252

@multihoee

@storybookholland

[starlightsearches]

His Pilot Ch. 6 (NSFW)

Masterlist

Armitage Hux x Pilot! Reader (f)

SFW Version of the chapter can be found here.

Warnings: 18+ only! Minors will be blocked. Guided masturbation, fingering, dry humping, language, angst, religious imagery. Let me know if I missed anything, and please let me know what you think 🥰

The fire paints with dim, golden streaks on the ceiling above your bed—not bright enough to keep you awake, if you could manage to close your eyes.

You should be tired, exhausted. You should have fallen into the deepest sleep of your life before you even managed to crawl between the sheets. But you can’t. And you’re not.

Rest stays elusive, no matter how hard you try. After everything that’s happened, every promise and commitment you made in the blazing heat of the moment, it would be wise to take this time alone to think about what’s been done, and what cannot be undone.

And instead you're thinking about how it would feel to have Armitage's lips against your neck.

You huff at yourself, turning once again, the sheets in a tangle around your legs from your restless movements.

The knock at the door is so quiet, you’re sure you’ve imagined it. You want him to be there, but finding the hallway empty would be unbearable. The sound comes again, slightly louder, and you close your eyes, offer your hopes to the universe, and slip from between the sheets.

It takes effort to keep from running—even on your sore and tired legs—your footsteps marking an even beat against the floor, not loud enough to drown out the rapid strike of your heartbeat as your fingers curl around the cool metal of the door handle.

It could be Day, checking to make sure that you’re alright. Or Alida with fresh clothes for tomorrow or more wood for the fireplace.

The door opens; all your fears go quiet. It’s him.

“I . . .” Armitage hesitates, eyes gone wide when he sees you, shoulders positioned away from the door, like he's ready to run, “I couldn’t sleep, and I thought . . .”

Thank gods. You manage to keep your excitement to yourself, stepping out of the way so that he can enter.

The fire burns low in the hearth, casting more shadows than light at this point, bringing the walls in closer and shrinking the room, small enough that you can’t help but stand close to him.

He’s still in his clothes from before, except for the jacket—the fabric stiff with rain. His hair has lost any of the gel he had put in it that morning, and it falls across his forehead in soft waves—longer than you expected it to be—before he brushes it back with one ungloved hand.

“I— I didn’t mean to bother you,” he says, his throat jumping slightly when he swallows, eyes on the mess of sheets and blankets on your bed. He clasps his hands tighter behind his back when you rest your hand on his arm, the skin of his knuckles turning white.

“You’re not bothering me, I couldn’t sleep either.”

His eyebrows raise, the breath he was holding brushing your skin when he finally releases it. “Really?”

“Yes." You continue to shrink the space between you, looking up at him through your lashes.

He frowns, confused. “Why not?”

“I was thinking about you.” He can't not know what you're waiting for at this point, standing so close you can feel the heat from his skin through his clothes, staring pointedly at his lips.

He holds your hand to his face, and you think you've finally gotten through to him, letting your eyes flutter closed, but he doesn't come any closer, and when you meet his eyes again, they're full of pain.

“I’m— I’ll never be able to express how sorry I am for all of this. I’ve ruined—”

You kiss him with an exasperated sigh—kiss him to shut him up, kiss him because you can’t wait any longer. It stuns him, but he kisses you back, his hand at your jaw, lips moving seamlessly against yours.

It’s exactly what you wanted—uncomplicated, pure connection. He won’t listen to you when his own insecurities are so loud, but he can feel this: the urgency of your mouth against his, the sincere desire in your sighs.

There’s no forethought, no planning, just need—every movement motivated only by desire. He stumbles back on the bed, sinking into the plush mattress, pulling you down against him with his arm at your waist until you’re a mess of shifting legs and desperate, roaming hands.

It’s need that presses your hips against his thigh, warm and solid between your legs, need that has you sliding your core against the firm press of his body, sighing into his open mouth.

You reach for his shirt collar, pulling him closer, the buttons slipping easily from their hold under the strength of your hands until you can grip at the skin beneath—his neck, his collarbone, each valley and ridge mapping itself beneath your touch, searching lower, deeper, for more.

You’re left staring at the ceiling with wide eyes and empty hands.

Armitage turns to you, half his face in shadow as he sits on the edge of the bed, running his palms over the silk covers methodically, as if he’s trying to make sure that there's something real beneath him.

“Is everything . . . alright?” you whisper, apprehensive. There’s a sinking pit in your stomach, a terrible strain between your need to touch him and your fear of pushing him away.

He waits a moment before answering with an unconvincing nod.

“Yes, of course. I’m— I apologize.”

He looks so broken, defeated, and you don’t even know what you’ve done to make him this way. With no other options, you shift closer, stroke your fingers over the back of his neck in what you hope is a soothing gesture. His shoulders relax minutely, pressing closer against your hand, and even this little sliver of contact makes your stomach soar.

“There’s nothing for you to apologize for. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

He scoffs, turning away from you, and it's only then that you realize the anger in his eyes is directed inward.

Your chest collapses, folding in on itself in shame.

“Armitage,” you hook one finger under his chin, forcing him to look you in the eyes, “it’s alright. I’m not upset, or angry. We don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to do.”

His jaw tightens, eyes heavy with an unspoken pain. “Please, don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not. You don’t have to worry about me, Armitage. I can take care of myself.”

You’re not even sure what made you say it. As soon as the words are out of your mouth, regret creeps through your stomach, your neck growing warm with embarrassment, the heat intensifying when, with only a little hesitation, he places his hand on your thigh.

“Take care . . . of yourself?”

You don’t miss the breathlessness in his voice, or the weight behind his palm as he kneads the aching muscles beneath.

“Yes,” you whisper, shifting against the sheets, no longer able to sit still when he looks at you like that. His grip tightens, a nice, dull ache blooming under the pressure.

“Show me.”

You grip the hem of your pajama pants with both hands, eyes wide, shivering as the silky material gives way to chill air. As soon as they’re past your knees, you press your thighs together tighter—whether to relieve some of the ache at your core, or because of a sudden surge of shyness, you don’t know.

“Show me,” he whispers the words this time—a plea instead of a demand. His hand covers your knee, long fingers brushing goosebumps over your skin as he strokes them shyly, like he’s asking for something he’s sure he doesn’t deserve, and knows he’ll be refused.

You take a deep breath and shut your eyes tight—you can’t bear to look at him when he’s looking at you—and then lay back, letting the plush bed support your weight before your legs fall open.

The silence is oppressive, weighing on your lungs like a stone, and then it’s pierced by a sigh, the back of his hand brushing over the inside of your knee, up your thigh, so close to where you want to feel him, just not close enough.

“Please,” he rasps, “show me how.”

Stars. You won’t survive this. You’re sure of it.

You let your hand travel down your chest, over your stomach, sweat-slicked palm sticking weakly to the fabric of your top. At last you reach between your thighs, your skin against burning skin as you part your lips, stroking one finger between them.

Your hand shakes, stomach tensing; you’re wetter than you expected, the tip of your finger dipping easily into your entrance and coming back slick and shiny. You trace a soft circle over your clit, coating it with your spend.

Your back leaves the bed at the touch, arching a little when you apply more pressure, a second finger sliding in easily beside the first as you rub quick, tight circles against your clit, clenching your teeth together to keep from whimpering.

“Slower.”

His hand is at your wrist, thumb pressed firmly at the junction where your palm meets your arm, limiting your range of motion, reducing the pressure.

Your cunt clenches around nothing, muscles taut as you bite back a moan. You never made much of a spectacle out of touching yourself—it was just another part of your nightly routine, something you did as quickly as you could manage before falling asleep in between shifts. Nobody bothers to draw out the process of brushing their teeth, and coaxing out an orgasm before drifting off has always felt the same.

Until now.

Because now he’s got your legs shaking, the back of your neck slick with sweat and sticking to the covers. You don’t even have to see it; just knowing he’s watching with those analytical eyes—studying the pleasured map of your body without missing a single moment, determined to memorize every gasp and moan—has your chest heaving, lungs on the edge of collapse.

He’s still holding you when you slip your hand down to your entrance again, sliding two fingers into your warm, wet cunt. You thrust, using slow, methodical movements, letting the pads of your fingers brush against your swollen front wall, tightening the waiting coil in your stomach.

When he stops you again, delicate fingers squeezing on either side of your wrist, you expect more instruction—your glossy, pleasure-stained eyes meeting his intense ones.

He doesn’t offer any, eyes drifting down your chest to the place where your hands meet, tongue wetting his dry lips when they part with a shallow breath.

You feel every movement of his fingers, stroking down the back of your hand, tracing along until he brushes the tips of his fingers against your knuckles, positioned right below your own.

You can’t help but cry out at the added pressure against your entrance, his fingers joining yours with a wet sound so lewd you're embarrassed. His fingers curl against your own, pressed up against the swollen spot that cuts off the air in your lungs.

He shifts, so very slowly, watching for every minute response you give him—your clenched jaw, the fluttering of your eyelids. His fingers are longer than your own, and wider; it’s a greater stretch than you’re used to—the combination of your touch and his—but the burn fades quickly, and what’s left is absolutely irresistible.

“Is this right?” he whispers, continuing his diligent movements, eyes on your face searching for some sign of approval, but you lost the ability to speak long ago, left with only the memory of the way it feels to fill your lungs completely and a few tears in your eyes. You grip his wrist with your other hand instead, urging him to move again, your hips rocking desperately against his fingers.

He pins you in place with his free hand, holding down your hips with a much stronger grip than you'd expect, silencing your cries with a whisper.

“It’s alright, darling. It’s alright,” he says, and you’re sure you must be imagining the gentle reverence in his voice, “let me take care of you.”

He peels your hand from his wrist, intertwining his fingers with yours. His palm is warm, wet from the heat and the nerves. It’s the first time you’ve felt his skin like this, his palm against your own. He’s got two fingers inside of you right now, but it's his hand in yours that seems truly intimate.

You shift your other hand from between your thighs, taking him by the back of the neck—unable to stand it any longer—spreading your spend across his searing skin as you pull him against you for a desperate and messy kiss.

His hesitation lasts only a moment before he’s drawn in by the shift of your hips and the determined press of your tongue, and then he’s lost himself, grunting low and deep in your ear. His own hips drag against your thigh, and you can feel the weight of his need for you, the desperate whimpers interspersed with his moans. His thumb finds your clit, stroking back and forth, the movements perfectly timed with the thrusts of his fingers.

You’re unraveling, coming undone with the feeling of his lips at your neck, the sweet, restrained kisses he marks against your skin so at odds with hysterical sounds you’re making, the cries that bubble up from your throat.

And then you’re tumbling on the other side, baptized in the pleasure he's given you, remade new with each wave of light that floods from his touch. Your cunt grips his fingers, loathe to be parted from him.

You come back to yourself when his hand strokes its way to your waist, turning to face him, kissing his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, letting your own hand trail down the front of his shirt, stopping right at the waistline of his pants.

“Do you need me to . . . oh.” Your cheeks grow hot when you feel it, the sticky damp spot blooming on the front of his trousers. He flushes up to his forehead, skin gone rosy with embarrassment.

You didn’t know you could have that kind of effect on someone.

“I should return to my room.” He shifts, until you stop him, holding him in place with a hand on his chest.

“Don’t, please, stay with me.”

His neck turns red, too; embarrassment only just overpowered by desire. “I’d need a change of clothes.”

You press your lips together, biting away a smile, “I think I can help with that.”

The trip to his room and back is uneventful, thankfully. The hallways are dim and empty, and the house is large enough that you don’t have to worry about waking anyone, or having to explain your trip to Armitage's quarters in the middle of the night.

The refresher is off when you get back, the room swallowed by silence, and you knock on the door to let him know that you’ve returned from your little mission.

“Come in.”

He speaks quietly but you still manage to hear him, bracing yourself before you enter the refresher, greeted by a wall of steam that clings to your skin and collects in your lashes like tears. Armitage stands, bare from the waist up, staring at his hazy reflection in the fogged glass.

His back is to you, pale white skin pulled tight over sharp shoulder blades, dotted with freckles and occasionally marred by the white stripe of a long-healed scar. There’s another mark, an unexpected one on his left shoulder, just below the junction of his neck.

He watches your approach through the glass, no longer covered in mist now that you’ve let the cold air in, the leftover condensation dripping down its surface like rain before pooling at the edge of the counter.

It’s not a very large tattoo, about the length and width of your thumb: a small sprig of flowers, like the ones you saw on your trip to the market. You trace the lines with the tip of your finger—the dark green of the stem and where it fades into the soft, white petals—memorizing the pattern.

“It’s Halia,” he says with a cough, “they’re the flowers that grow on the mountains along the shoreline. She was named after them. It was the first thing I did after leaving the academy, in her memory when—” he pauses, voice thick with emotion, “—when I thought she was dead.”

You nod, stroking your thumb over his shoulder, unwilling to speak just yet, in case it breaks whatever spell has overcome him.

“It scared me, for most of my childhood. I’d wake up in the middle of the night and for a few moments I’d be terrified, thinking I’d forgotten her name. My father, he told me the truth when I was very young. Maybe he thought I’d be ashamed, but I couldn’t be. She was the only thing that separated me from that man, and I worried that if I forgot her, like he had, I’d end up like him, too.”

It’s the most he’s ever said to you in a single sitting, bared to you not just physically, but emotionally as well. It's the moment you've been waiting for.

“If she knew the truth,” you whisper, kissing the bend right above the tattoo, “she would be proud of you.”

His hand covers yours, pressed tighter against his skin. “I hope you’re right.”

You crawl between the sheets beside him, eyes straining to stay open and vision blurring with exhaustion, but you can't bare the idea of falling asleep just yet.

He glows in the darkness beside you, skin bright and reflective as a moon, his eyes wide and vulnerable you brush the dark, still-damp hair from his eyes, your other hand firmly held in his own.

You rest your head against the pillow, laying on your side. He'll be the last thing you see before you drift off tonight, and the first you'll see when you wake up.

You fall asleep knowing that you made the right choice.

18+ Hux Tag List: @thembohux, @writingletterstothefire, @missmadwoman, @evarinaandlat, @sitherin-mxschief, @imafatassmess, @toasterking, @rosevon7975, @pradahux, @armitages-galaxy, @dark-lord-of-the-simps, @daughterofaries, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @theold-ultraviolence, @mrs-ghuleh, @lemongingerart, @isthisheaven5, @trash-queen-af, @generalthirst, @tobealostwanderer, @huxxoxo, @theoriginalannoyingbird, @liceforlunch, @g3n3ralhux, @mylifeisactuallyamess, @superunkn0wn, @therealnoex, @luna-is-on-mars

Join my tag list here!

[karlajoyner]

Crush (Nick x Reader)

A/n: Hey guys so it was brought to my attention and I also kinda noticed that my writing looks clustered as hell on tumblr cause I’m just not used to writing on it. So I’m gonna start typing my stories on Wattpad and transferring them onto tumblr cause it’s just easier for me since I’ve been writing on Wattpad for years. Let me know if it’s easier to read and if you guys would prefer it if I changed the rest of my previous imagines to this layout!

Requested by: Fallonburns (Wattpad)

Warnings: None I think. A kiss? I don’t know if you need to be warned about that. Okay bye!

————

As a member of the school dance committee it was part my job to push ideas and work out any kinks before a dance could happen. That included booking food, decorations, and of course entertainment.

"Come on y/n! Julie and her hologram band could totally blow the roof off this place and you know it" Flynn spoke as I walked down the hall towards my locker.

"Of course I know it Flynn and I know Julie would kill it but it's not my decision. Plus the dance is tomorrow. Who knows if Dinas gonna wanna add another entertainer for the night besides you?" I spoke to one of my longest friends.

"Well will you at least put in a good word?"

"I'll see what I can do" I said putting in my locker combination.

"Yes! Thank you"

Seconds later I groaned feeling my body particularly my head collide with the small metal door in a split second.

"Y/n!" I heard Flynn shout helping me regain my balance.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry" I heard a familiar voice making my heart rate pick up.

"Nick" I panted attempting to recover the air that was just knocked out of me.

"Y/n I didn't mean to really. Ethan threw the ball and I tried to catch it I-I'm sorry"

"It's cool. I'm totally fine" I attempted to play it off as I grabbed my binder from my locker.

"If totally fine means you've got a concussion then yeah you seem great" Flynn said making me scowl at her.

"Do you need to go to the nurse? I can walk you if you want" He said putting a hand on my head exactly where it had made contact with my locker door.

"Nick I'm fine really" I smiled removing his hand. I finally made eye contact with the boy who stood there smiling back at me. His beautiful blue eyes taking my breath away once more. Knocking out of the trance I glanced back at Flynn to see her eyeing me suspiciously.

“Are you sure?”

"Positive. I've gotta get to class. I'll see you later" I said pulling Flynn away from the scene in a hurry.

"Yeah, later" Nick called out to us as we continued down the hall.

"Seriously? Nick? What is it with that boy? I mean first Julie now you"

"Now me what? I don't like Nick. Julie likes Nick"

"Yeah if Nicks name started with L and rhymed with Duke" I looked at the girl in confusion.

"What?"

"Nothing. Julie doesn't like Nick anymore but it seems you do and as one of your oldest friends I think it's my job to tell you to go for it"

"Last time you told me to go for something I ended up on the school dance committee. I have 500 balloons to blow up by tomorrow" I said walking towards Carrie and Kayla. Kayla sent me a smile earning a pointed look from Carrie.

"Kayla. Carrie. I hope to see you guys at the dance this Thursday" I spoke smiling at the two girls.

"Sounds interesting. But I'm busy with Nick. You know MY boyfriend" She said putting emphasis on the word my.

"Plus if Flynn's gonna DJ I just don't know if I'd make it through the night"

I put an arm in front of Flynn to hold her back before turning back to the two girls.

"Well take a flyer anyways just in case" I grinned taking one from the stack in my binder.

"Thanks" Kayla said taking the flyer out of my hands.

"I hope to see you there" I sent the two another fake smile before walking away with Flynn to our next class.

"How do you talk to her without going off on her?"

"Well for starters it takes a lot of patience. They don't say fake it til you make it for nothing" I giggled along with Flynn as she looped her arm around my own.

I strutted down the hall walking towards music room where I knew Flynn and Julie would be at this time excited to give them the news.

Suddenly I felt someone grab my arm and spin me around to face them.

“Oh Nick" I said looking up at the boy in front of me. A blush creeping onto my face as I noticed the intense look he was sending me.

"What's up?" I questioned cautiously.

"We're friends right?"

"Yeah of course why?"

"I need a favor"

"A favor? A favor like what?" I asked watching his gaze flicker to our right. I turned to see Carrie and the rest of dirty candy walking towards us.

Before I could process what came next my body collided with the cold metal lockers behind me as Nick pushed his lips onto mine.

I slowly melted into the kiss wrapping my arms around his neck pulling him closer. But he didn't seem to mind.

"Nick" Carries voice interrupted what had soon become a make out session. The boy in front of me pulled away first keeping his hands firmly on my waist.

"Oh Carrie. What do you want?"

"We need to talk"

"I'm a little busy here" He said tilting his head towards me.

"Well become unbusy"

"I would but we have nothing to talk about. I told you yesterday we're over and that's it"

"We're not over until I say we're over"

"I'd say your pretty over"

"Oh shut it y/n. I know this is fake because Nick would never like a girl like you. I mean look at yourself. Pathetic" She talked with anger evident in her voice.

"Don't talk to her like that" Nick spoke turning to stand in front of me.

“Nick it's fine. She's right"

"No she's not. I'd rather be with someone who's kind, gentle, and doesn't have the personality of a mountain lion" Nick said glaring at Carrie who stood there with a smirk.

"You'll be back Nicky. See you Friday at the dance" She said walking away her posse hot on her tail.

"Thanks for sticking up for me Nick. You didn't have to. And sorry if I wasn't believable enough"

"You were great. Amazing! And I'll always stick up for you. You know that" He said smiling down at me.

"I know. I'd just prefer it if every time we met you didn't push me against the lockers. They’re cold and made out of metal you know?" I joked making him chuckle.

"Yeah sorry about that. And I'm sorry for dragging you into this. It's just Carrie won't leave me alone"

"I kinda figured when you shoved your tongue down my throat" I giggled watching a cute grin form on his face.

"Yeah yeah. I didn't hear you complaining"

"Well I mean you're not the worst kisser" I said biting my lip watching him get flustered.

"I can do better than that. I was just under pressure"

"Then I guess you'll have to prove it to me later" I spoke confidently before turning around walking in the direction I was heading.

"Hey! Wait!" He called out after me. "Yeah?" I questioned turning around.

"Are you going to the dance?" He asked shoving his hands in his pocket

"Yeah I have to. I kinda helped planned it" I called back smiling at him.

"So I'll see you there"

"See you there" I spoke turning back around reaching the end of the hall.

I pushed open the doors to the band room open only to hear a loud thud.

"Flynn?" I questioned seeing the girl on the ground.

"Are you okay?" I asked helping her up

"She's fine" Someone else in the room spoke.

"Oh hey Julie" I grinned at the girl who sat at the piano.

"Hey y/n"

"So are you gonna explain to me why you were on the floor?"

"Sure just as soon as you explain to me why Nick had you pushed up against the lockers" My face fell in embarrassment as I looked at Julie in panic.

"Julie it's not-"

"It's okay y/n. I'm over him. I kinda moved onto someone else"

"Really?"

"Really. You have my blessing" She confirmed with a grin.

"Thanks. Now that that's over. You were spying on me weren't you?" I questioned turning to Flynn.

"Whaaat no. I would never"

"She was spying" Julie confirmed for me once more.

"Thought so. I'll explain everything later I came to find you guys cause I have great news" I grinned pulling out a flyer from my backpack.

"Performing at Thursday nights dance is Julie and her hologram band" I smiled showing Flynn the paper.

"Wait what?" Julie asked with a surprised look on her face.

"I haven't told her"

"You haven't told her?" I asked with an exasperated look knowing this was gonna be a long evening.

It was Thursday night and I was running around making sure everything was going according to plan.

“Hey how’s she doing?” I asked Flynn nervously biting my lip.

“Not good. Her band she can’t get a hold of them......literally” Flynn explained making me nod my head.

“It’s just it’s 11:20 already”

“I know but this means a lot to her”

“I understand. Just keep stalling with your amazing dj skills” I smiled giving the girl a thumbs up.

“Thanks y/n. You’ve been running around all night why don’t you take a break?”

“I can’t even if I wanted to”

“Come on! Look Nicks been staring at you all night. If you pull him on the dance floor I’ll play something smooth. Something slow” She smirked at me bumping my shoulder.

“No you will not” I warned the girl. Looking over to the blonde boy who was evidently looking our way. Looking at me. He sent me a smile to which I smiled back at.

“Try me” She said making me playfully roll my eyes.

“I’ve gotta go” I spoke watching Daisy at the punch table wave me over.

“Duty calls” Flynn said before I walked away.

“What’s wrong?” I asked the brunette reaching the table on the far end of the gym.

“I’ve gotta go to the bathroom can you serve punch for like 5 minutes”

“Sure” I smiled moving behind the table taking the apron out of her hands. I threw it over my neck attempting to tie it from the back.

“I’ve got it” Someone spoke from behind me taking the strings away and tying them in a perfect knot.

“Nick. Thank you” I simpered at the boy who moved around the table to stand in front of me.

“No problem. I’m glad I finally got you alone. You look great by the way”

“I know this apron is pretty great huh?” I toyed with the boy.

“You can make anything look good”

“I try. Punch?” I asked holding up a plastic cup.

“Please” I quickly served him a cup handing it over to him.

“Thanks. You did amazing with this whole dance”

“Yeah well Dina wanted it to be perfect since it’s our first dance of the year”

“Dina did not disappoint. Neither did you of course. Promise you’ll save me a dance” He asked my cheeks heating up.

Abruptly I felt a tap on my shoulder to see Daisy was back. I handed her back the apron before moving around the table where Nick was.

“Or we could dance now?” I suggested watching him put his cup down.

“Sounds good m’lady” He spoke sticking his hand out for me. I giggled taking it and letting him sweep me towards the dance floor.

I laughed along with him as he began to dance goofily to the music purposely.

“You have an amazing laugh”

“Nick if you don’t stop complimenting me it’s gonna look like I put on 10 pounds of blush by the end of the night”

“Well you don’t need makeup you know”

“That’s what all guys say until they see what you really look like”

“Well you’ve always been naturally beautiful. Even in 8th grade when you wore no makeup at all”

“Don’t remind me I looked terrible”

“Not to me you didn’t” He said looking into my eyes. For a split moment the world around us stopped moving and it felt like we were the only ones in the room.

At least until I felt someone bump into me pushing me forward into the boy.

“I’m so sorry” I said realizing his hands had caught my body.

“It’s cool are you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah y/n are you okay?” A familiar voice asked from behind me.

I turned around to come face to face with Carrie who stood there with a devilish look in her eye.

“I’m fine”

“Oh how unfortunate. You know I didn’t see you as the dancing type. You’ve always had two left feet”

“Leave her alone Carrie” Nick spoke attempting to move forward. I put my arm up to hold him back.

“No Nick it’s ok she’s not worth my time or yours”

“Whatever. This dance is lame anyways”

“Then maybe go home”

“I will. Nick care to join me?” She smirked dangling her plastic cup in her hands.

“No I’m having a good time here” Nick spoke intertwining his hand with mine. I looked down slightly smiling at the gesture.

“Wow. Fine have fun.......with her” Carrie said moving to pass by me.

I suddenly gasped feeling a cold sensation hit my body.

“Oops sorry” The witch spoke before walking away.

“What’s her problem?” I asked ready to go after her only to be held back.

“Hey, you said it yourself. She’s not worth our time” Nick whispered holding me by my shoulders.

“Your right. I don’t even think it’s worth trying to clean this up” I said pointing out the red stain on the side of my dress.

“Here. It isn’t exactly cute but it’ll help cover up the stain” He said putting his jean jacket over my shoulders.

“It’s perfect. Thanks Nick. For everything”

“This is one of the last few songs of the night. Dedicated to a very special friend of mine so grab your partners close and tell HIM or her how you feel” Flynn’s voice rang through the gym speakers.

A slow song beginning to play throughout the gym. Couples beginning to form on the dance floor.

I looked up at the girl on the stage to see her send me a quick wink. Playfully rolling my eyes I looked back at the boy in front of me, his hand lingering in the air.

“Can I have this dance?”

“Of course” I grinned taking it. Allowing him to pull me close.

We swayed side to side along to music with smiles plastered on our faces.

“You know I never thought I’d finally get here”

“Finally?” I asked pulling away looking up at him.

“Guess it’s now or never huh? Okay. Y/n I’ve had a crush on you for the longest time. So long Carrie started to notice. After she found out I rammed you into the lockers the other day she went crazy”

“Really? She was that jealous”

“Insanely. But after I talked to you that day I realized this crush wasn’t going anywhere”

“You know I’m really glad to hear you say that Nick cause I feel the same way”

“That’s good. Because I can finally prove you so wrong” He smirked leaning down and pulling me into a passionate kiss. The first (technically second) one of the many that were yet to come.

————

Up next: Jeremy Shada x Reader

Charlie Gillespie x Reader (Smut)

Owen Patrick Joyner x Reader

[shra-vasti]

MAKES ME WONDER [9/40] The Promise

→ Synopsis : Your dream to attend a Seventeen concert was finally coming true but you weren't prepared for the events that were going to follow after Joshua made eye contact with you and chose to make you his partner for the mini game and take you out on a date as a winning prize.

→ Genre : fluff

→ Type : Idol x fan au

→ Word count : 1.3k

→ Taglist : @mngyuheart @vannie24 @uglyratlmao @rjsmochii @dwcljh @noniesgirl @yuriewolfhard @jisungsdreamy (let me know if you want to be added to the taglist)

→ Pairing : idol!Joshua x fan!reader

→ Main Seventeen Masterlist 

→ Makes Me Wonder Masterlist 

"Is there something going on your mind which is eating you up, cheol?" 

Seungcheol hummed in response to Jeonghan's voice as the latter just sighed, making his way to sit in front of Seungcheol who was deep in thought. 

"And what would that be?" 

"Joshua."

The name itself was self explanatory and Jeonghan didn't need any further explanation from him to figure out what he was thinking about. 

"Don't worry too much about him, he's a grown man and unlike others he is someone who is responsible and mature enough to know what's right and wrong."

Seungcheol nodded his head, agreeing with Jeonghan silently but the creases on his forehead didn't decrease, making him sigh. 

"I just want him to be happy, you know what happened between Yang Soohyun and him right? He was barely able to handle himself at that time, I don't think he would be able to handle another heartbreak if possible, you can never know what happens."

He laid down on his back, his arms tucked below his head as he thought about the said boy's life. 

"Exactly, you never know what will happen, I'm not saying that I'm very open and accepting about y/n in his life but she makes him happy in a way I have never saw him, well at least not since the past three to four years and she seems cool, I personally don't get any evil vibes from her, so it's either she's actually here for Joshua or she's a really great actress."

Seungcheol eyed Jeonghan, he did have a point, he himself was able to see the sparkle back in Joshua's eyes when he was with you at the beach, it made Seungcheol happy but also scared about his friend putting his heart at risk again. 

He never wants Joshua to go through the same pain again, knowing that he's an idol, he couldn't even properly cope up with his breakup, he always needed to smile even when he just couldn't and Seungcheol dreaded watching him suffer in silence and that's the reason he was being skeptical. 

"I hate to admit that you're right, let's just go with the flow."

"I'm always right."

"Is he in the hotel or with y/n?" 

"Of course he's with y/n."

Jeonghan grinned hugging his friend tightly before going towards his own room, Joshua is Jeonghan's best friend but unlike Seungcheol he was actually looking forward to what was to unfold, dating a fan was the hardest it could ever get but he was happy just seeing Joshua being so happy again. 

▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️

You were walking on the same beach where you had met Joshua and the rest of the Seventeen members 2 days prior as you waited for him to come to you. Your grin widened when you saw him running in your direction, he stopped when he reached you.

"Hey, beautiful."

"Hello and take a deep breath, you didn't have to run like that."

You patted his back and helped him calm his breathing till he could properly speak. 

"I want to cherish the time I spend with you in person, I don't know when I'll be able to relive these moments again."

He straightened himself reaching for his back pocket and taking out a rose flower and gave it to you, holding it in your hand your mind went back to the concert where he gave you the rose and you felt your cheeks heat up at the memory. 

"Are you blushing y/n?" 

"What? No." 

He just laughed ruffling your hairs a bit with an endearing look, he didn't know what was between the two of you but he had come to adore you way more than he thought he would. 

"I'm hungry, I didn't even eat anything thinking I would eat with you."

He pouted, putting a hand on his stomach looking back and forth between you and his stomach. 

"Then let's go get some food."

You intertwined your hands with his and made your way towards a small restaurant nearby. 

"Y/N, I have a question to ask you."

You turn your head towards him, looking at his side profile as both of you kept on walking to the restaurant. 

"What is it?" 

"You know…about us, I mean it's really early and we barely know each other but I really do wanna be with you and know you better."

You stopped in your tracks which made him turn towards you. 

"Where's this conversation supposed to head?" 

You chuckled nervously and you felt him tightened his grip on your hand, giving it a squeeze as he could feel you were feeling anxious.

"I really want to spend more time with you, I like you and I'm sure you do too, what am I saying is what if? You know what if this works out?"

"Joshua, I'm just your fan and the distance between us? What about that? What if everyone finds out about us, the hate, the scandals, your career God no not your career, I don't want you to face any of it."

Joshua left your hand placing it on your face instead he stepped closer and you stopped breathing for a second to be this close with him. 

"I'm not telling you to dive right in, let's take it slow but all I want to say is let's figure this out together, let's see if this works out, please?" 

You felt his lips on your forehead as a brief kiss, he pulled back tilting his head with furrowed eyebrows to look at you clearly. 

"Joshua, are you sure about this? Our lives are really different from one another."

"As long as you are by my side I'm happy, we'll see about anything else after that."

He waited for your answer as you thought about things through, was taking this risk worth it? You don't know anything about him except his image as Seventeen's Joshua but you did feel genuinely happy with him by your side. 

You nodded your head looking up at him to see happiness radiating all over his face, you smiled too. 

"As long as you are by my side."

You mumbled back feeling his hand sneak behind your back to pull you towards him for a gentle hug, you hugged him back, a laugh escaped your mouth feeling both of yours hearts beating like crazy and it somehow ease you up that he was too as nervous as you were for whatever that was going to unfold.

"Did you tell the members about this? What if they don't like me being with you, I could see some of them were skeptical about this, especially Seungcheol, Jihoon and Jeonghan."

"You think I would take such a huge step without telling them first? Of course they know everything, I'll never do something which they won't approve of."

"Joshua, promise me one thing."

You said as you felt him nod his head on your shoulder. 

"Whatever happens to us, if you suddenly one day think that you don't like me anymore or that I'm not worth it, tell it to me rather than lying."

He tightened his grip on you a little bit. 

"I promise, I'll never lie to you and I'll try my best to protect you."

You smiled nodding your head, closing your eyes as you inhaled his scent. 

"And I promise to be there for you too."

"Come on I'm hungry I might die."

You shook your head at him, taking his hand in yours again as you continued your way. 

"There are so many different places I want you to see and I'm sure you'll love them, there's this place which I go to whenever I want to have some fun….."

He looked at you as you spoke about your favorite places wondering how on earth he became so lucky to gain you on pure luck. 

He couldn't imagine what he would be doing today if he didn't notice you at the concert. 

You were beautiful, he didn't feel his heart skip a bit the way it did when his eyes first landed on you and he was sure he wouldn't mind looking at your face forever, he laughed at himself, how cheesy could he get. 

[cherry3point14]

One Helluva Car

Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Minor car fetish, one paragraph of blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smut, a little jealous!Dean, this is crack babes’, I can’t stress this enough: car fetish Word Count: 3,500. Summary: Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world and then one day she sees Baby... A/N: @alexwinchester23​ hit me up a THOUSAND years ago with the prompt: dean x reader where she is more “in love” with deans car and it makes him a little jelly lol. And I was like, ha ha ha sure I’ll write it. It’s been half written ever since. So, I finished it. Someone please be proud of me for finishing. (Not like that you animals.)  This also fills Driving In The Impala for @spndeanbingo​

It’s Monday lunchtime when you see it. Her? It looks like a her. The best cars are ‘hers’ and even from a distance, she has curves that only a good woman could possess.

You’ve had a morning of shitty, old trucks that have been run hard for too long, and new cars that you plug into the computer to diagnose, which takes all the fun out of life. It’s easy to see a mile off that she isn’t shitty or bogged down with modern tech. She’s a well looked after classic. A thing of beauty. A freaking masterpiece. She’s polished enough that the sun bounces off of her black surface like she’s made of glass.

If only your arms weren’t laden with brown paper bags of food you’d take a detour to get a closer look. You could ghost your hand over her hood and take a look at the interior. You bet it’s the softest fucking leather your ass would ever hope to feel.

You’d generally drool over her without actually drooling because God knows spit is not good for the paintwork. Unfortunately, you do have bags filled with hot, meaty subs intended to feed your workforce. And you’re wise enough to know that making a garage of hungry mechanics wait for their lunch is not a good move. It’ll only result in some sort of unnecessary disaster this afternoon that you, their boss, will have to fix or pay for. Or both.

The only thing you can do is take one last look at her, memorize that beautiful shape while you heft the bags closer to your chest and carry on walking. It’s not like you’ve never seen a good old fashion American muscle car before, you have your own ‘70 Mustang at home.

It’s just… this is a Chevvy Impala, arguably the first car to flex its muscles. You don’t see one of those every day.

Your hobby is like a much cooler version of birdwatching. You have an appreciation for cars, classics in particular. The craftsmanship, the design, and the sounds they make as they tear through the world like moving time capsules. Nothing generated by a low emission engine compares.

That’s how you spot her for the second time, on Wednesday.

Well, you hear her first.

You’re closing up for the night. Everyone goes home early on Wednesdays, the shop closes at three, except for you. There’s always paperwork that needs to be done and you hate the idea of taking it home if you can help it. Taking a car home you’re always happy to do, but paperwork? You refuse to dirty your private space like that.

It’s just before six when you’re locking the doors and thunder screams in the distance. At least you think it’s thunder, you wonder where the clouds are until it moves too fast to be a weather condition.

The closer it gets the more the sound transforms into pure, uncut horsepower. It’s the deep rumble of an engine that demands to be heard. It tears your attention to it whether you like it or not. An announcement of the coming vehicle before it arrives.

Then she glides around the corner of Maple and Third before peeling down the street past you. It’s her again, she’s still in town. You know it’s the same car, she isn’t a vehicle made for stealth and your little ol’ town isn’t exactly heaving with beauties like her.

You know she’s not a local, it must be a flying visit, you’re lucky enough to have seen her again before she left. Not just seen her though, heard her. Heard her engine and the screech of her tires on the tarmac. Experiencing her in action is breathtaking enough that you gawp at her like an idiot as she zooms away.

It’s not a fetish or anything. You don’t exactly cuddle an exhaust pipe in bed. You appreciate cars more than your job requires you to, simple. It’s a respect that was drilled into you from a young age. Your dad owns a franchise of shops across the state and never had the boy he always wanted. He didn’t mope about it, he taught you to fix an engine instead. To appreciate every individual piece like an unsolved puzzle. And because your dad is a big ol’ softie he taught you that classic cars can’t be beaten, he favors Camaros in particular. He gave you a garage to work in until you’d labored enough to earn it for keeps and manage it as your own. Your dad raised you to bleed motor oil and sweat gasoline.

Cars are your life. Ok, maybe you’re a bit of a gearhead is all. You can’t help it if that Impala is a fine wine you want to uncork.

You watch the street lights make a hazy path for her to follow, another corner and she’s gone.

At home, you curl up on your sofa and scroll through your usual sites to see how much your own Impala would cost. In good condition, you’d have to sell one of the two cars you already have but there’s this smashed up ‘68 in New Jersey that might be worth the drive for the price. It would basically be a new car by the time you rebuild it but that doesn’t matter. All you needed were the bones of the thing and you never shy away from a project that involves weeks of hunting down original parts, that’s half the fun. For tonight at least it gets bookmarked. The decision left for another day, if it still seems like a good idea in the morning then you’ll make the call.

Hell, maybe tomorrow you’ll see something else and forget all about her. Maybe.

Good looking guys come through town from time to time but Dean is a rare treat. He’s the picture next to ‘handsome’ in the dictionary. He’s got these full lips that you’ve stared at, without an ounce of shame, while he sucks on a beer bottle. A jawline covered in scruff that you’ve already imagined between your thighs. And then there are those hands of his. It could be your line of work but you always loved a man with hands like his. Broad hands and thick fingers. Mechanic hands you’d call them, you half wish they were covered in oil and grease.

He was tapping away on the bar for a while, drumming aimlessly while you drank, but now he’s toppled in your direction. He’s standing between his barstool and yours, while you're still seated, which makes you the perfect height for him to slip an arm around you. His thumb has settled in on tracing the edge of your jeans while he talks to you, tickling your back where your tank had ridden up.

Honestly? He doesn’t even need to be a good lay to be worth the trip to bed.

“I know you said you’re in town with your brother…”

He winces at the start of your sentence, “with the things I’m thinking about doing to you honey, you can’t go mentioning Sammy at the same time.”

Underneath the stained overalls, you’re still a woman and you’re not sure if there’s anyone alive who could resist Dean’s charms. When you laugh at his ridiculous propositioning, you don’t even try to fight when it tails off into a giggle.

“I was going to ask if you had your own room? Or are we going back to my place?”

You’d almost think he’d been playing it cool up until this point. Everything had been measured and smooth. But you ask him that and he finally cracks, urgency slips through that charm offensive. He tilts his head forward as his face hardens into something intense, eyes hooded under the light of the bar. His hand slides up underneath your top enough that his whole palm skates against your skin. “How about a compromise? My car, your place?”

You lean in until you’re almost touching his lips, your tongue peeks out to wet them and flicks against his, taunting. “Deal."

He doesn’t need to know that you walked here and needed a ride home anyway. That's irrelevant.

Stumbling out of the bar is messy. Not because of the alcohol, neither of you have drunk that much, it’s his hands on your waist. They’re possessive and so there.

Maybe he’s not so bad in bed. Maybe he’s actually, pretty good in…

Oh fuck. It’s her.

You’re stopped in your tracks by the sight of your very own white whale. Well, black and shiny Impala but the metaphor stands.

You stop and Dean bumps into you, not expecting it so soon. For a brief moment, you’re frozen in awe, reverence. Even in the dark, she’s perfect. Street lights bouncing off of her smooth exterior. The night is chilly and there’s a hint of condensation creeping around the edges of the windshield which only serves to make her sparkle.

“Wow, she’s-”

“Mine?” Dean finishes, a wry grin on his face and keys dangling from those fingers you’d been drooling over moments ago. Fuck him and his fingers now.

“Shit, Dean. I’ve been seeing this car all week. She’s beautiful.” You walk towards her, carefully, in case you spook her. She’s an old soul, probably jumpy. Your hand reaches out but doesn’t touch her yet because you’re being respectful.

You’d have thought Dean might have appreciated your care. Instead, he laughs and it catches you off guard. You whip your head back around to glare at him and he encourages you, “she won't bite.”

When you finally make contact she’s cool and glossy under your touch, but even so, you don’t run your hand over her like you want to. You can feel the waxed surface that you don’t want to ruin. You know how much effort goes into a good wax job like this. Instead, you trade your whole hand for your fingertips and trace her edges as if trying to remember her shape for when you rebuild your own.

“Ahem.” In the distance, Dean clears his throat. Sucks for him. You’ve got a new love interest.

“Sweetheart?” He asks again, stepping up closer to you as if you didn’t hear him. He sounds needy like he wants you, but it’s edged with this vulnerable envy. You already noticed his bright green eyes in the bar, now you're wondering if there’s a different green-eyed monster at play.

He needs to understand, you saw the car first. She’s held your heart all week, Dean piqued the interest of your lady parts about half an hour ago. You might say age before beauty but this Impala has Dean beat on both fronts, older and more beautiful.

“Where’d you get these rims, if I didn’t know better I’d almost say they’re original,” you spare him a glance over your shoulder. “But I do know better.”

He looks like he’s struggling with not having your full attention, you’d almost say he’s pouting. Then he sticks out his bottom lip and he's definitely pouting. He shuffles from foot to foot and steels his jaw. It makes it even more difficult for him then when you ask questions that he wants to answer. You can see the cogs turning where he’s trying to work out if he should encourage your interest or not. As much as he wants sex, in the end, the gearhead wins out.

“Fixed her up a lot over the years, found those in a junkyard if you believe it.” He steps up next to you now with a proud smile.

“I can believe it. I’ve seen the stuff people throw away. They’re perfect. Can I?” You slide out your phone and wave it at him.

He nods, although a little dumbstruck.

You bend down and snap a picture, explaining. “I was looking at a sixty-eight to rebuild, maybe. Actually, yours gave me the idea, saw her and couldn’t get her out of my head. I have a friend who might be able to help me out with these.”

“You wanna build one?” He sounds interested but not enough to get him off track. The track being you.

“Yeah. I told you I’m a mechanic. Building these things is in my blood.”

The air is cool and you start to feel it, not having intended being outside this long. He sees you shiver and steps behind you running his hands up and down your arms. “Sixty-eight ain’t a sixty-seven though, is it?” He asks, voice dripping with cocky arrogance about his car.

Oh, fuck. He’s figured out the way to your heart. He’s got you all turned around and leaning against her. Back pressed against her metal and glass enough that you’ll be feeling her for weeks.

“No, it’s not…”

“Wanna ride my Baby?” Dean presses his lips to the corner of your mouth with the question, leaving enough space for you to let out an almost inaudible gasp.

You’d be inclined to say men name their cars the dumbest shit sometimes but ‘Baby’ fits somehow. It’s perfect. She’s Baby.

“Yeah,” you nod. Right now, it's all you’ve ever wanted.

He walks you to the passenger’s side door and opens it’s for you. It’s not even romantic, it’s a fucking turn on.

Maybe you do have a car fetish. You should probably figure that out, like, another day.

In the time it takes Dean to strut to the other side you have sunk into the leather and just as you imagined, it’s soft. Worn and loved, like everything else about this beauty. This is what’s makes her special and that’s why you would have to love your own extra hard. To make up the years of neglect.

“Ready to go?”

He’s looking at you, smirking in your peripheral, and you’re looking at his fingers on the keys. You know what’s going to happen when he turns them. You’re still not prepared.

“Let’s do it.” A grin slides onto your face.

She rumbles to life beneath you. The vibrations from her engine shudder through the seat straight to your core. From there you swear the horsepower zips to every nerve ending in your body like electricity powering a city. And the sound could strike you down. She somehow purrs and roars at the same time. Each rev is a scream but her engine sings between each turn.

“Two eighty-three?” You ask, bottom lip caught behind your teeth.

“Get out of here with that two eighty-three crap. She’s a three twenty-seven.” He snaps, but not really, pressing his foot on the gas again just to see you quiver. Another rotation of the engine, her power, rolls through you.

He pulls out onto the road, leaving the dive behind, and drifts a little as he does, the back of her floating into the road. You slide over the seat an inch and he’s half focused on you, half focused on driving, so you're not even sure if he planned it. You scoot closer to him and he weighs his arm, the one not currently steering, around your shoulders. You’re becoming increasingly aware that the car smells like him, or he smells like her. Leather, sweet and spicy, musky. It’s a complicated mix where you’re not sure whether it's more her or him. You want to wrap yourself up in it all the same but Baby can’t wrap you up, Dean can.

“Dean I… Next left… I really, really love this car.”

He licks his lips as he looks down at you, his pupils wide, probably has a clear view of your chest, “yeah? How much, sweetheart?”

“A lot.” You pant in his ear, teeth grazing his lobe. “Second right, then it’s the third house on the left.”

A growl comes out of him. Determined. And you’re not so sure you care about fucking Dean anymore but each time you work him up a little higher, he revs that gorgeous engine and you get to feel that thunder. It’s the best circle jerk you could imagine, everyone is truly happy.

He pulls up in front of your house in record time because Baby is gunning 285 horsepower, so she’s not exactly going to be beat.

The problem, that you hadn’t really planned on, is arriving at your destination. As soon as he cuts the engine you puncture. Missing the everything about her straight away and wishing you’d kept driving for hours. Still, you have the scent of leather everywhere, burdening your senses with the smell of a bygone era. You hike a leg over Dean and sit in his lap. A knee either side of his thighs, denting her seats and Baby’s steering wheel holding the curve of your ass. Your hands skip Deans’ shoulders in favor of the seat behind him, the cushioned bench under the pads of your fingers, as you attach your mouth to his. Sandwiched between Baby and Dean, and you never want to leave the spot.

Your tongue curls into his mouth at the same time that he presses his fingers into your hips so tight you’re sure there’ll be bruises. You’ve never worried about a tight grip on you before but he starts pulling you towards him and away from where you’re wedged on Baby. The more you lean your body into Dean, the less you feel his car.

“Baby.” You murmur into him. Dean must mistake it to be a pet name you’re borrowing, calling him, because he pulls you again. Actually you’re telling him where you want to be, to stay.

Here. With Baby.

“This is a nice neighborhood.” He hums in this tone that’s deep but it doesn’t go through you like the sound of a turbo V-8. “We should take this inside.”

He’s right. Carl from the damn neighborhood watch is probably already doing just that, watching. The pervert.

“Right, sure.” You agree despite the way your stomach drops at the thought of leaving her.

You’re all untangling limbs getting out and he kisses you once more against Baby before you allow him to drag you away. It already feels different, normal, boring.

Dean’s fine, he’s good, he’s handy. Like you’d thought he would be.

You wrap your mouth around his dick because you’ve always liked looking up through your lashes and seeing the way a guy goes breathless on your tongue. He works you open on his thick fucking fingers until the pressure in your stomach snaps with his thumb circling your clit. He pushes into you and the stretch, the burn, is perfect. Dean is better in bed than you’d expected him to be.

And yet, it’s empty. Dulled. It doesn’t scratch the itch like good sex used to. The whole experience dampened compared to what you’d felt sitting in the front seat of his 1967 Chevy Impala.

You slip on some oversized shirt from your floordrobe to walk him out when he leaves. Neither of you under any impression that he’s staying the night. He’s got this satisfied grin on his face that he hasn’t been able to wipe off since the first time he came. He stops at your doorstep, “thanks, sweetheart. This was fun.”

“Sure was,” you agree, not giving him the full story. Standing at your doorway you’re looking at Baby instead of Dean, again. “Let me know if you’re still in town tomorrow, I’d love to go for another ride.”

He nods and backs away a few steps until he’s in your line of sight along with his car, “will do, baby.”

He must think you mean sex. You wouldn't be opposed to it but you mean a drive. A real drive with wide roads, and opening the taps. You can break that to him tomorrow if he does give you that call. If he doesn't then there's only one thing you need to say before he leaves. One thing you can't let her leave without saying.

“One helluva car you got there, Dean.”

Second A/N: Look, this didn’t start out as a full on car fetish but I was writing it and SOMETIMES I HAVE NO CONTROL. Sometimes these characters they say, “fuck you!” and do what they want. I was going to write a nice little jealousy thing. Dean wants some attention. That’s all. You only have yourselves to blame readers!

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewill-blog @magnitude101999 @alexwinchester23 @jesseswartzwelder Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278 @bloodydaydreamer @iamabeautifulperson18 @erins-culinary-service

[dimplesridley]

For the Grace/Dani prompts, I would really like to know what's your take on the moment they decide Grace is coming back in time. I would have loved to see this in the movie so here I am :) thanks!

thanks for sending me a really cool prompt! i had a lot of fun with this :)

summary: the series of events leading to dani's decision to send grace back in time (one-shot)

word count: 7,073

rating: T

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21816142

Dani had assured her it was a straightforward mission. Get the goods from their Legion contact and head back to base. Simple. Which was the only reason Grace was convinced to stay behind and not join Dani on the retrieval mission.

But Grace should have known, whenever Legion is involved, nothing is ever simple.

When the Resistance camp gets a distress call from the retrieval team, Grace is the first person to enlist for the emergency rescue operation.

Once Grace and the rest of the squad are aboard the hoverplane, Sergeant Reese fills the soldiers in on the situation. It turns out their Legion contact betrayed them at the last second and led a group of Rev-7s directly to Dani and her team who are now fighting tooth and nail just to stay alive.

Grace tries not to let her anger at the situation and her fear for Dani’s safety overrun her mind. She puts aside the images in her head of Dani bleeding and injured, choosing instead to focus solely on the sergeant’s voice as he dives into his plan for the rescue.

-

The plan lasts for all of five minutes before it goes to absolute shit.

The Rev-7s are reacting far more quickly than anticipated to the arrival of the Resistance rescue squad and the machines dispatch nearly the entire team in what feels like the blink of an eye.

The explosion from one of Legion’s bombs sends Grace flying. She lands on the ground hard but semi-conscious, when Sergeant Reese rushes over to her and helps her up. He shouts something at her, but her ears are still ringing too much from the blast for her to make out what he’s saying.

Suddenly, a metal blade pierces Sergeant Reese from behind.

“Sergeant!” Grace screams. Without hesitating, she fires her plasma gun at the Rev-7’s head, killing it instantly.

Then sound fills her ears again. She hears the anguished cries coming from her fellow soldiers who are engaged in a heated battle against Legion’s machines. She hears countless shots being fired desperately. Finally, she hears him. “Get…the Commander…out. ” Sergeant Reese struggles with every word, his mouth filling up with blood.

Grace doesn’t want to leave him behind, but his injuries are fatal, and Dani could still be alive and in need of her help. She nods reluctantly and gives her sergeant’s hand a final squeeze before running in search of Dani.

When she eventually finds Dani, the woman is busy fighting a Rev-7; Dani is impressively using parts of a dead Rev to defend herself against the punches and jabs from the machine in front of her, even managing to land a few decent blows herself.

Grace tries to aim her gun as carefully as possible to avoid hitting her own Commander. But the Rev-7 is moving around too much and she manages to only fire a plasma ball at its back. At least it does the trick of taking down the machine for a moment, which is just long enough for her to grab Dani and run.

They almost make it back to the hoverplane when out of nowhere, several Rev-7s start charging toward them. The few soldiers guarding the hoverplane instantly come to Grace and Dani’s assistance, shooting aggressively at the machines looming ever closer.

Amidst the chaos, the sight of the hoverplane door being lowered down catches Grace’s attention and she sees that one of her squad members, Jake Flores, is inside the plane, beckoning to her and Dani. Grace stops firing momentarily to turn to the older woman. “Commander, the hoverplane is open. In five seconds, I’m going to distract the Revs. When they start to kill me, run.”

Before Dani can protest, Grace pushes the smaller woman in the direction of the plane and then joins the other soldiers as they attempt to hold off the killing machines for as long as possible.

Grace turns to look back at the plane every few seconds or so, wanting to make sure Dani is safely on it. Her momentary distraction leads to her failing to notice the metal tentacles lunging at her until she feels them run through her body. The pain is instantaneous. It hurts so badly everywhere that Grace can’t even keep herself upright, and she drops to the ground like a felled tree. As her eyesight dims and she starts losing consciousness, she thinks she can hear Dani calling her name.

-

“Quick! Get her in here!”

Grace groans as they set her down, her body hurting from even the lightest touch. She imagines this is what being impaled on a bed of knives must feel like. Unknown hands remove her army vest and hastily inspects her body.  

“Shit! She’s got multiple stab wounds. A lot of chest trauma here. Sedate her and get these holes sealed up, now!”

Her mind fog starts to clear, and she remembers what happened. As one of the medics goes to inject her with a sedative, Grace grasps the woman’s wrist, stopping her. “Wait, wait.” She tries to breathe. It hurts. Everything fucking hurts. “I need…to protect…my Commander.” Her breaths come out in quicker succession and her heart beats more rapidly.

The medic looks at Grace with kind eyes. “Your Commander’s safe thanks to you. Not only that, the retrieval mission was a success. We’re finally going to turn the tide in this war.” Grace’s chest starts to rise and fall more slowly as the knowledge that Dani is safe calms her. “And don’t worry, soldier. You’ll make it,” the woman adds reassuringly.

Although Grace is relieved to hear that she was able to get Dani out alive, she knows she just barely succeeded. She wishes she could do more. That’s when it dawns on her that she can. Without thinking any further, she exclaims, “Make me an augment!”

The medic stares at Grace like she’s lost her mind. “You…what?” The woman shakes her head in disbelief. “That’s just the adrenaline talking, soldier. Let’s get you under and into the OR before you bleed out.” She signals to the other medics to lift Grace.

Grace’s eyes harden. “No. You heard me. I volunteer. Make me an augment. I’m not going into surgery unless it’s to make me a FUCKING augment.”

The woman sighs in frustration. “Fine. Okay! But just know, there’s a very high probability you’ll die on that operating table.” She grabs the syringe and this time Grace lets her plunge the needle into her arm.

“It’s worth the risk.” Grace murmurs, her limbs starting to grow heavy and her eyes already closing.

She’s worth the risk.

-

The pain from the augmentation procedures is so intense that Grace is often flitting in and out of consciousness. One day (she doesn’t know what day it is, she’s lost all sense of time), she wakes up from an excruciating pain that feels as if her body has been turned inside out, her skin removed, and then put back again. She screams and screams and screams until the doctors have no choice but to put her in a medically induced coma to stop her from feeling anything at all.

Grace’s first proper memory post-operation is of being awakened by the sound of a heart beating slowly. She opens her eyes and traces the sound to a woman sitting in an armchair next to her bed, asleep. It’s Dani, of course it is. She has her hair down instead of in her usual braid, the brown waves framing her face beautifully. Grace reaches forward and pushes to the side a stray lock of hair on Dani’s face. Despite being as gentle as possible, the simple action causes Dani to stir.

“Grace?” mumbles Dani, voice still groggy from sleep.

“Hey,” says Grace softly.

“You're…awake?” Dani asks, almost disbelievingly. “Oh my god, Grace, you’re awake!” Dani immediately wraps her arms around Grace and hugs her tight. Grace is surprised by the sudden embrace, but she fully welcomes it, leaning into the hug and breathing in Dani’s scent. For a while, all they do is hold each other and feel the other’s warmth.

“I wondered if you would ever wake up,” Dani says when they finally pull away from their hug. “Why did you do it, Grace?” she asks, looking directly into Grace’s eyes. “You know we’ve never augmented a human before. You could have died!”

“I was dead anyway.” Grace answers hoarsely. She slowly sits upright. “I got stabbed by those things so many times that I couldn’t have survived my injuries. And even if I could, I’d never be able to fight again.” She reaches for Dani’s hand. “To protect you again.”

“Grace…” Dani’s other hand moves up to caress the side of Grace’s face. The Commander’s fingers trace the thin white scar that sits right below her eye. As Dani moves in closer, Grace thinks the woman is going to kiss her, but she presses her lips to Grace’s cheek instead. Grace closes her eyes at Dani’s touch. “Thank you,” Dani whispers.

-

The news of Grace’s successful augmentations spreads through the Resistance camps like wildfire. It sparks hope in all the human rebels as they finally feel like they have a fighting chance against Legion.

In the weeks that follow, Grace spends most of her time recovering at first. She would have jumped back into training as soon as possible if not for the team of doctors and Dani preventing her from doing so.

When Grace is eventually given the go-ahead, she launches into her training full force. She undergoes test after test after test as doctors and scientists work on establishing what her new abilities are and how far her augments can go before she crashes. Some days, when Grace feels like she can’t possibly go any further, only the thought of saving Dani spurs her on. Dani is pretty much the reason why Grace masters her abilities so quickly; Grace knows she needs to train her body so that when the time comes, she’s more than capable of protecting Dani.

The results of her tests and training sessions are extremely encouraging, and it doesn’t take long for the Resistance Council to officially open the augmentation program. Despite the low survival rate of the procedure, many soldiers from various encampments still sign up willingly, all eager to be better equipped to fight Legion’s machines.

One of these soldiers happens to be Jake Flores, a man who came from the same camp as Grace. They had trained together from day one and although they had never really spoken, they’ve always held a firm respect for each other as they were the top two recruits in Grace’s batch.

The Commander tasks Grace with training a newly augmented Jake, and although she’s never been one for mentoring, she can’t say no to Dani and so agrees to take Jake under her wing.

In time, Jake gradually gets the hang of his new body and even becomes a decent fighting partner for Grace. They’re in the middle of an intense sparring match one day when a Resistance Lieutenant, Riley Dawson, interrupts them.

“Flores! The Commander has requested a private meeting with you. She’s waiting for you in her office. You know where it is, soldier?”

Jake looks confused but he nods anyway. “Yes sir, I do. But-”

Grace cuts in. “But he still has another half hour of training left. Can’t he meet her after?”

Dawson gives a stiff shake of her head. “No can do. Commander insisted that Flores see her ASAP. It sounded urgent, so I suggest he gets going.”

Grace’s mouth forms a thin line. “Suggestion noted. But what’s this even about?”

The Lieutenant doesn’t bother to disguise her annoyance. “It’s called a PRIVATE meeting for a reason, Williams.”

“Okay. You know what? Fine,” Grace sighs. She turns to Jake. “Flores, you’re free to go to your PRIVATE meeting with the Commander.”

Jake quickly grabs his things, pretending not to notice the intense staredown between Grace and the Lieutenant. He briefly acknowledges his two superiors before walking away briskly.

With Jake on his way to Dani’s office, Grace moves to the punching bag to practice on her own. Dawson turns to Grace. “Y’know, we all see how close you are to the Commander.” Grace puts a little more force behind her punches. “I’m sure whatever’s so important, she’d tell you, right? So, I’d say you have nothing to worry about,” Dawson finishes with a smile that Grace could swear is actually a sneer. As soon as Dawson exits the gym, Grace swings aggressively at the sandbag, picturing herself punching the smugness off the Lieutenant’s face.

-

Grace finishes her workout and starts making her way to the communal bathroom for a much-needed shower. She passes by Jake’s quarters by chance and notices his door ajar. Curious, she peeks into his room and sees the young man busily sorting his belongings into several cardboard boxes and large plastic bags.

“Doing some spring cleaning, Flores?”

Jake jumps at the sound of Grace’s voice. “Jesus! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Sorry,” Grace says, not really sounding sorry at all. She notices how on edge Jake seems compared to before when they were sparring. It must have something to do with that secret meeting, she thinks. “You in trouble with the Commander or something?”

“No, no, I mean, at first I thought I was…but no.”

“She moving you to another camp then? ‘Cause you look like you’re planning on going somewhere.”

“I…I am. Kind of. But that’s not why I’m packing. Not exactly, anyway. It’s just…it’s complicated, okay?” Jake rubs the back of his neck nervously.

“Geez, what’s with all the vagueness, soldier? It’s not like you’re going on a top-secret mission, right?” Grace half-jokes, patting him on the arm.

But Jake doesn’t appear to find it humorous at all as his face pales at Grace’s remark. His reaction definitely does not go unnoticed.

“So, it IS a top-secret mission?” Grace pries.

Jake licks his lips. “Look, Williams, the Commander was very specific. She said I couldn’t tell anyone where I was going or what I’d be doing. And she especially mentioned that I couldn’t speak a word of it to you.”

Grace huffs. This is making less and less sense. “What?! Why not?”

“I-I don’t know. She didn’t really have time to explain. A-anyway, if you really wanna know, w-why don’t you ask her yourself?”

Despite the glare Grace gives him, she knows he’s right. Rather than forcing Jake to tell her what she wants to know, she’d be better off going straight to the source. With that decided, she walks out of Jake’s room and heads in the direction of Dani’s office.

-

Grace doesn’t bother knocking. She barges in, fuming. ���Flores? Really, Commander?”

Dani doesn’t seem surprised at Grace’s sudden appearance in her office. She calmly sets her mug of coffee down on the table. “I was going to tell you, Grace. But I guess Flores told you first?”

“No, he didn’t actually. I figured that you must have assigned him on an important mission.” She moves closer so that she’s face to face with the older woman. “What I don’t get is why him? And why did you not want me to know?” Grace doesn’t mean to sound hurt, but honestly, she is. Her and Dani have never kept secrets from one another, so this Jake thing is really throwing her off.

Dani sighs. “It’s not that I didn’t want you to know. It’s that this shit hit me so fast that I hadn’t worked out how to tell you. I still don’t, to be honest.”

“Damn it, Dani! Tell me what?” Grace throws her hands up in frustration. She’s so fucking done with all these non-answers she keeps getting from people.

“Legion plans to kill me.”

“Okay…not to sound like a shitty person but, aren’t they ALWAYS trying to kill you?”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Dani lets out a laugh. Grace likes that she’s always able to do that to Dani.

Dani’s smile fades, and she wears a grave expression. “You’re right. They are. But this time’s different, Grace. Legion is going to send a new kind of Rev back to the past to kill me.” Grace’s heart stops at these words. “The version of me before I became your Commander.”

“What? How is this even possible?”

“Recently, the Council received intel that Legion has created a machine capable of not only surviving a trip through the Time Displacement Equipment, but also capable of blending in around people. They call it a ‘Rev-9’. It looks, sounds, and acts like a human, AND it can take on the form of any person it touches.“ Grace’s eyes widen. "Also, did I mention it can split into two full-bodied units? Because it fucking can,” Dani piles on casually like she’s not making it sound worse with that piece of information.

Grace’s head is spinning as she tries to process everything at once. “So, you’re telling me Legion is essentially sending the perfect assassin on a time-travelling mission to kill the pre-Commander you, and your way of preventing this is to send JAKE FLORES?? HE was your first choice??”

“What? No!”

“Then what, Dani? Because I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you’re sending Jake to protect you when it should be me on this mission!” Grace exclaims heatedly. She takes a few deep breaths before speaking again, this time more calmly. “Yes, Jake is a good soldier, and a loyal one, but he is not going to protect you better than I can. We were the two best recruits in our group, but he rarely beat me. For god’s sake, he’s barely even gotten used to his augments! He won’t last ten minutes against this Rev-9 and neither will you.”

“I know,” Dani says quietly. She looks at Grace with softness in her eyes. “I know how skilled of a fighter you are. And how much you would risk for me, which is why I can’t let you die because of me. It’s also why Jake Flores was not my first, but my only, choice.”

Grace places her hands on Dani’s shoulders. “I get that you’re looking out for me, but I am your best hope of surviving the Rev-9. If you send me back, there’s a chance that we both make it. But if Jake goes, there’s no doubt he’ll end up dead. Then you’ll end up dead, the Resistance will never have existed, and I’ll be dead too.” She doesn’t want to be this blunt with Dani, but she really needs the other woman to fully realize the gravity of her decision.

“I nearly lost you a month ago. And I would have, if not for a goddamn scientific miracle!” Dani paces around the room anxiously. “Ever since, I have been picturing what my life would be like without you in it and I can’t, I can’t do it.” Dani stops pacing and grasps Grace’s hands tightly. “I can’t lose you for good,” Dani pleads.

Grace intertwines their fingers together. “Hey, you won’t lose me. You won’t.” “I’m going to kill that fucking Rev, keep you alive in the past, and come right back to you, okay?” Grace says with such determination she almost believes herself.

Dani’s eyes well up with tears. “You don’t understand, Grace. TDEs only allow one-way trips. With the kind of technology that we have right now, I would not be able to bring you back to our time. You’d be stranded there forever.”

Grace takes a moment to comprehend what Dani is saying. If she goes to the past, she’ll have to leave her entire life behind for what is practically a suicide mission. Not only that, she’ll never see Dani again. Not this Dani anyway. Grace will be a complete stranger to the Dani in the past.

Truth be told, it’s not the dying that scares Grace, rather it’s the thought that she could die and the woman she loves would never even know what they mean to each other.

Although these terrifying thoughts are running through her mind a mile a minute, Grace stands by her decision. “I’m not going to lie to you and say that this shit doesn’t scare me, because it absolutely does,” she admits. “But I am here because of you. This entire Resistance is here because of you. The world needs you, Dani Ramos.”

Grace brings Dani’s hands up to her lips and kisses them gently. She whispers, “You saved me once. Now let me do this for you.” She leans down, resting her forehead against Dani’s. Their lips are so close, they’re almost touching. “Let me do this for you, please,” Grace says more desperately this time. Dani remains silent, but a moment later, she nods ever so slightly. Grace notices the trembling of Dani’s lips and the tears that have rolled down her cheeks. Without another word, she closes the gap between them and kisses Dani over and over again, every fiber of her being aching to feel the woman for the very last time.

-

Grace can’t sleep.

She tries for a quite a while, but she keeps failing. Partly because the bed in Dani’s office is uncomfortable as hell and clearly meant for one person, but mainly because her brain won’t shut off. She certainly envies how easily Dani falls into a deep sleep.

I guess good orgasms will do that to you.

Grace turns to look at Dani, quietly admiring the peaceful expression on the woman’s face when she doesn’t have Resistance matters to think about and people’s lives to worry over. She thinks this must be how the Dani she’s going to meet will look, probably. Carefree and still innocent to the horrors of war.

It’s going to be strange, for sure, meeting the woman she loves in completely different circumstances. Dani was her saviour when they first met twenty years ago. As the years passed, they slowly saw one another as peers and after some time, they considered themselves good friends. They only became lovers much more recently after years of Grace pining for the older woman and Dani initially being afraid of jeopardizing their friendship as well as professional relationship.

Although the two of them have yet to actually exchange those three words, Grace has loved Dani for as long as she can remember. She could say those words today or six months from now or six years from now and mean them the same way every single time. But she doesn’t want to scare Dani off, not when Dani was so unsure of starting this thing between them in the first place.

A sadness grows in her chest as Grace realize she’s really, really going to miss this Dani. There was once Dani had shared with Grace that she was afraid of loving people because she had lost so many loved ones in the past, and now as she lies awake in Dani’s cramped bed, she hates the thought that, instead of being the one who shows Dani it’s okay to love, she’s probably going to be another reason why Dani won’t.

The more she dwells on it, the more she hates the fact that she’s leaving this wonderful woman behind. But this is not about Grace, not at all. If sacrificing everything means she can save Dani, then there’s nothing left for her to think about. She’s doing this. She’s going to go back in time, even if it kills her.

-

At some point very early in the morning, Dani begins to wake up and in her still half-asleep state, all she can think of is wanting to hold Grace close to her and never letting her go. She reaches out in front of her but grasps at nothing; her eyes fly open and she finds herself alone in her small bed.

Dani hurriedly puts on her clothes, cursing the whole time. As soon as she thinks she’s decent, Dani rushes out her office and to the one place she  thinks Grace will be. She just prays that Grace is still there.

-

Dani has to travel deep underground to get to the TDE laboratory, which she’s never liked because she’s always had this fear of the structure collapsing on her, so she walks as fast as she can and tries to ignore how eerie the tunnels leading to the laboratory look in the dim light.

When she’s near enough to be noticed by the scientists, Dani wastes no time in responding to their greetings and immediately asks to be shown to the vault.

As soon as one of the scientists punches in the code, Dani bursts through the large metal doors, eyes searching for any sign of that familiar blonde hair. Her heart sinks when her gaze falls upon an empty room. The time machine is there, but Grace, however, is nowhere to be found. And if Grace isn’t here, then that must mean…

I’m too late, I’m too late, I’m too late

She gasps, her hand coming up to her mouth as the realization hits her like a truck at full speed. She chokes out a sob and feels her body shake as she tries desperately to keep it together. She thinks she’s going to completely fall apart at any moment.

“Commander?”

That voice. Could it be?

Dani slowly turns around and comes face to face with the woman she’s been looking for. She doesn’t stop to think, she just throws her arms around Grace’s neck, and clings to her with every ounce of strength she has.

Grace has never known Dani to openly show this much affection toward her, especially with other Resistance members around like the female scientist standing behind them right now, but she’s definitely not complaining.

Dani finally lets go of Grace, and puts her hands on her hips. “Don’t you Commander me, Grace Williams. I can’t believe you seriously thought of going off on the mission without leaving me so much as a note!” Dani looks somewhat pissed, but Grace can tell there’s no real anger in her eyes.

A guilty look flashes across the blonde’s face. “I tried writing…something, but it felt like there weren’t any words that could convey a proper goodbye to you. So, I left, thinking it would be easier on both of us that way,” Grace admits. “I’m sorry, Dani. I really am,” she says as sincerely as she can muster, hoping that Dani can sense how much she means it.

The older woman remains silent at first as she considers Grace’s words. At last, she responds, “I guess I can forgive you since I did make it in time to see you before you left.” Her stern expression slowly gives way to a small smile. “And also because I probably couldn’t have read your handwriting anyway.”

“Oh, wow, okay. First of all, I’ll have you know that I can write really nicely if I wanted to,” Grace says, pretending to be offended, but she’s smiling too. Then, her features soften. “Second, thank you for your forgiveness, Commander. I don’t think I could have left on the mission if I thought you were mad at me.”

At that moment, the scientist, who has been awkwardly hovering around them this whole time, clears her throat nervously. “Um, I don’t mean to interrupt, Commander, but speaking of the mission…w-we still haven’t briefed Williams and we’re kind of on a tight schedule. So, um, permission to proceed?”

Grace and Dani turn toward the direction of the timid voice, suddenly remembering that they’re not the only ones in the room. Despite Dani’s attempt to will away her blush, she feels some heat rising in her cheeks. “My apologies, Dr. Brewster. Please, feel free to continue,” Dani says, taking a few steps back to allow Grace and the scientist to talk.

Dr Brewster nods shyly at the Commander before addressing Grace. “As you already know, our team has succeeded in obtaining the Rev-9’s coordinates, which means we know where and when the Rev-9 is traveling to. However, our TDE doesn’t have the most accurate transport beam so your destination won’t be exact, but it’ll be close enough.” Grace isn’t so sure she likes the sound of that, but if it’s the best the scientists can do, then she’ll work with what she’s got.

The bespectacled woman proceeds to explain the time displacement process to Grace and shares with her all the information the Resistance research team has currently compiled on the Rev-9 and its capabilities. Grace listens attentively, careful to file away in her brain every important detail she can possibly use in her upcoming encounter with the Rev.

“One last thing, soldier. TDEs can only transport living tissue and mimetic polyalloy and nothing else. So, you won’t be able to bring any weapons with you on your trip. Also, the clothes you’re wearing now,” Dr. Brewster points at Grace’s black tank top and tights, “will be completely burnt off by the time you land in 2020.”

Grace does a double take. “Wait, so I’ll be facing a robot assassin — that is pretty much a walking arsenal — naked AND unarmed?”

“Um, yes?”

Grace lets out a humorless laugh. “Well, I’m fucked already, aren’t I?”

The woman flinches at Grace’s swearing. “Y-yes. I-I mean no! No to that second thing you said, but yes to the first. Unfortunately, you’ll have no choice but to retrieve clothes and of course, weapons from that time. But if you can locate a super powerful EMP device, then that’ll destroy the Rev’s neural net and allow you to take it down permanently.”

“Right. I doubt EMP devices are commonplace in the year 2020 but I’ll figure something out,” Grace sighs. She takes in a deep breath and exhales. “Okay, I’m ready.��

While Grace is being prepped by the other scientists, Dr. Brewster discreetly pulls Dani to the side. “Commander, there are some other developments I think you should know about.” Dani turns to the woman. “What is it, Dr. Brewster? Tell me.”

“Well, when we originally fixed this TDE which we took from an abandoned Legion base, we repurposed it to detect any temporal anomalies.”

“What do you mean ‘anomalies’?” Dani asks, her interest piqued.

“Basically, what we’ve picked up are signals emitting from tech that shouldn’t be able to exist in the past. Legion’s tech, to be precise. But that’s not the most interesting part. We discovered that one of those signals isn’t from any tech we recognize.”

Dani furrows her brows. “So, it’s not-”

“That’s right, Commander. It’s neither Resistance NOR Legion. It’s something else entirely!” Dr. Brewster says, sounding more and more excited. She quickly continues, “What’s more, this machine seems to know exactly where and when a Rev will be transported in time BEFORE it happens.”

Dani shakes her head, confused. “How could anyone or anything know what’s going to happen before it actually does? This isn’t making any sense.”

Dr. Brewster frowns. “Yeah, we still have no idea how this machine does it but we do know that it’s been sending coordinates and dates to an unknown number. And every time it does, Legion sends back a Rev a day or a couple of days later. Which proves that this machine’s information is accurate! Also, I know this is a lot to digest but I’m going to blow your mind even further, sir.”

Dani resists the urge to roll her eyes. “Please get to the point, Doctor.” The scientist nods eagerly. “Yes, sir. Of course. Okay, so far every Rev that’s been sent back in time has been destroyed within hours of its arrival and the singular clue we have is the unknown number, which appears whenever a Rev does. I think it’s safe to say that this machine is working together with the unknown number to terminate Revs.”

The gears start turning in Dani’s head until finally, Dani’s eyes light up. “If you’re saying what I think you’re saying, that this machine and its partner are indeed 'terminating’ Revs, then that means they…they could actually be potential allies of the Resistance.”

“Yes, Commander, they certainly could. But again, it is somewhat risky, considering we don’t really know their motives for killing Revs or who they’re affiliated with.”

Dr. Brewster may be ridiculously long-winded at times, but even Dani has to admit that she’s got a point there. She doesn’t want to rely too heavily on two relatively unknown variables. She decides instead to consider them as a backup plan of sorts. “Dr. Brewster, do you have the coordinates for these two agents?”

“Um, we have them for the machine but not for its partner, who seems to be on the move frequently so we can’t pinpoint the partner’s location. Why?”

“Okay, that’s fine. Give me what you have,” Dani commands, the urgency evident in her voice.

The scientist quickly fishes out a tablet from her left coat pocket and hands it over to Dani.

On the other side of the room, Grace is about to step into a tub containing the substance that will allow her to be transported by the TDE. Dani suddenly calls out to the blonde, effectively stopping her in her tracks.

Dani hurriedly jogs up to Grace and whips out a small laser pen. “I need to tattoo something important on you. Would that be okay?”

“Didn’t peg you for the possessive type, Dani, but sure, go ahead.” Grace gets a light smack on her arm in response.

“Oh my god, I don’t mean my name, Grace!”

The blonde shrugs. “How was I supposed to know?”

Dani gives her the side-eye, but she’s barely suppressing a smile. “Good to know you still have a sense of humor even at times like this.” Her half-smile slowly falls, and her face grows serious again. “Grace, I don’t have time to explain but I’m going to mark some very important coordinates on you. If the shit hits the fan, go to this place and get help, okay?” Grace nods wordlessly before pulling up her black tank, revealing part of her abdomen to Dani. “This is going to hurt quite a bit,” Dani warns, to which Grace gives her a pointed look. Dani’s cheeks redden. “Right. I forgot I’m talking to an augment.”

Dani tries to keep her hand as steady as possible as she uses the tiny laser to etch the coordinates on Grace’s skin. The blonde grits her teeth when the hot laser makes contact with her flesh, but she doesn’t let out a single sound.

When Dani finishes, a male scientist approaches them, his face sweaty and his hands clasped together tightly. “Excuse me, Commander? If we’re going to mask our TDE activity from Legion, we’ll need to piggyback on its signal when it sends the Rev-9, which gives Williams about five minutes before she must be transported.”

“Wait, can I at least have a moment to say goodbye?”

“Sir, our window of time is small as is, and it’s getting narrower by the second,” the man stresses.

Dani laughs darkly and stares him down. “This woman is literally going to be sent back in time to die for me and for our cause, so I suggest you find a way to keep that fucking window open until we’ve said our goodbyes. Is that clear?”

The man gulps. “Y-yes, sir.” He shuffles awkwardly over to the control panel, while the other scientists also start working on their own tasks, giving Dani and Grace a slight amount of privacy in the large room.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

The two women share a shy smile, both suddenly very quiet. Although Dani herself is unsure of what to say, she doesn’t want to waste time debating over who should speak first. So, she ends up blurting the first thing that comes to mind. “Please be safe, okay? Whatever happens, just remember your training, remember everything you know about the Rev-9, remember those coordinates, and remember your limits. If you start crashing, go to the nearest pharmacy or clinic you can find and get the right meds.”

Grace opens her mouth to say something but Dani quickly adds, “And don’t screw up the dosage!” She realizes she may have said that part a little too loudly, so she follows up more quietly, “That’s, um, very important.”

Grace chuckles softly, amused at Dani’s rambling. “Don’t worry, I can remember shit, alright?” She reaches for Dani’s hand, finding comfort in the weight of it in her own. “But Dani, I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to stay safe. I can only promise you that I’ll do everything I can so you won’t have to lose me.”

“Sir, three minutes till the window closes!” yells the male scientist from behind the TDE’s control panel.

Dani gestures with her free hand to indicate she’s heard him, and quickly turns back to Grace. She bites her lower lip. “I know I’m kind of lousy with words and sometimes with my feelings, but before you go, I want to say thank you for everything you’ve ever done for me. You’ve always listened to me, advised me, supported me, and encouraged me.” The blonde instinctively wants to look away, embarrassed, except Dani holds her still. “Grace, believe me when I say that you are, without a doubt, the person I trust the most and the one I can truly be myself with. Because, I don’t have to be Daniella Ramos, Resistance Commander, when I’m with you. I can just be plain old Dani and I love that. I really, really fucking love that.” Dani laughs, then stops. “Grace, I think I-”

“Two minutes left, Commander!”

Grace smiles understandingly. “Dani, it’s okay. I think I know what you’re about to say, and you don’t have to. Don’t feel like you have to say it just because I’m leaving and you’ll never see me again.”

Dani can’t believe what she’s hearing. “What? Grace, no, I’m not saying it ‘just because’ you’re leaving! I mean, maybe I am a little bit… But my point is, I’m saying this now because I’ve finally realized that it’s how I really feel. It’s true.”

“What is?”

Dani groans. “That I love you! Oh my god, Grace, I love you!”

The sudden confession stuns the entire room into pin-drop silence. Grace herself is left speechless. Her brain feels for a while as if it has short-circuited. Then somehow, her body moves of its own accord and she’s surging forward, kissing Dani on the lips, hard. Dani responds eagerly, kissing Grace back with just as much want and fervor. Grace lets herself savor the taste of Dani’s lips for a few more seconds before pulling away from the woman, panting. “I wish we had all the time in the world for me to show you all the things you make me feel, but we don’t.”

“Sixty seconds till transport, Commander,” Dr. Brewster reminds gently.

Dani gives a solemn nod and sighs shakily. “Understood, Doctor.”

As Dani is led away by Dr. Brewster to the observation room, the scientists immediately usher Grace into the tub. They submerge her to ensure she’s completely covered in the conductive substance from head to toe.

Once Grace is on the platform, the scientists start up the TDE, the large machine humming as it works on accumulating enough energy to execute the transportation process. When the machine is sufficiently charged, the rings surrounding the platform begin to rotate, generating a field around Grace and levitating her. The digital clock in the observation room begins its countdown.

10…

9…

From behind the glass-paneled room, Dani watches Grace, and she can see how, despite the brave face Grace is putting on, there’s genuine fear and uncertainty in the woman’s eyes. Without realizing it, Dani suddenly has her fingers on the intercom button. “Grace, it’s going to be okay.” The blonde turns to look up at Dani. “I’m here and I’m with you.” Dani places one hand on the glass, wishing she could reach out and comfort Grace. Dani’s words seem, at least, to put Grace more at ease, judging by the slight smile on her face.

6…

5…

Even as she’s watching this take place with her own two eyes, Dani still can’t believe that she really only has a handful of seconds left before Grace disappears and she’ll never see the woman again. This can’t be it for them, it just can’t. She refuses to accept it. Her fingers lunge for the intercom button again. “Grace, I don’t know how, and I don’t know when, but I’m going to find a way to bring you back. I will find a way, you hear me?” At this point, Dani doesn’t even care how desperate she sounds in front of her people, she just needs Grace to know that she will never give up on her.

Dani’s determination plants in Grace a newfound optimism and hope for her mission that she didn’t have before. She should have known Dani would never lie down and take shit from fate. Dani’s always said, “Fuck fate.” And sure enough, Dani seems intent on doing just that for Grace.

The glass being too thick for any sound to pass through, Grace decides instead to mouth “I love you” at Dani and prays the woman can read lips well enough to understand her. Dani’s eyes tear up, letting Grace know that she received the message loud and clear.

2…

1…

At the very last moment, just as the ball of energy begins to fill up the entire room and the rotations of the metal rings reach critical speeds, Grace mouths one last thing to Dani. “I’ll see you soon.”

And in a blinding flash of light, Grace is gone, and Dani is all alone. The room she stands in somehow feels colder and darker than it did a mere moment ago.

A few minutes pass in silence before Dani wipes away the remaining tears and she balls her hands into fists, her gaze hardening. "I meant what I said to Grace earlier.” She looks into the eyes of each and every one of the scientists there. “I am not stopping until I find a way to return her to our time. Starting from right fucking now.”

[simpinforyoongi]

Hey that's my water! ~ Shy!Jungkook x reader

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: fluff?? A bit of angst mAYBe like 0.002%, attempted humour but like, IDK how to make things funny ok don't attack me

Summary: Jungkook finished all your water while kinda confessing and you just ask him to give you time to get to know him. (and you're hoping that he doesn't change his mind)

{Note: This is my first imagine on Tumblr and I'd really appreciate any feedback and comments and notes. Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy it!!}

{p.s guess where the picture is from!}

~~~~~~~

Don't look. Don't look. Don't look. Don't look. Don-

You peek at the confused boy to your right who sighs for the umpteenth time in the past hour.

Focus y/n focus . It's your finals.

You look back down to your half finished paper and start writing again, but not before taking yet another sneek peek at him.

You know, seeing such behavior of yours, one would think that you're crushing on this cute boy, Jungkook.

Well, it's not fuLLY wrong, I mean, he's kinda cute,ok. But its not quite true either.

Well its just, its hard to resist such a baby face and honey-sweet charms, okay?? And the fact that you're a hoe for shy boys isn't helping at all

I'd say you're giving exams a run for their money when it comes to being avoided by Jungkook.

I mean the guy hasn't held eye contact with you ever for more than half a second!

That day when you bumped into each other? Nopity. One second he was there with books sprawled across the floor and the next second he wasn't. He didn't even look at you!

Then there was that time when the only seat available was next to you and the rest were near his "fangirls". Its fair to say he shared his meal with squirrels that day.

And then there was that day when the teacher had asked you to explain something to him since she was in a hurry and you were the only one left in class. That was probably the only time he directly talked to you.

By "talk" , I mean the low "yes" when you asked whether he had understood or not. That's it.

Those were the only times when you interacted. In the past year.

And that last time was like 4-5 months ago.

Weird, considering the fact that you share a good number of classes with him. Well maybe he's just too shy, don't stress over it you dumbass.

You put your pen down and stretch out. One gets stiff after sitting in the same position for so long you know.

15 minutes are still left on the clock.

Jungkook still seems to be writing.

Your eyes linger on his face for longer than you'd like to admit.

Ok but like

Damn

he has a sharp jawline.

Slice my throat with that jaw please

But still those chubby soft looking cheeks? Howww?? Then there are those doe eyes that hold the soft chocolate brown orbs.

Oh how you'd love to stare at them for hours on end. And tangle your fingers in the soft brown locks that are hiding his forehead. Your eyes wander down to the sweet brown pools of caramel that I mentioned a moment ago and you can't seem to avert your eyes from his.

.

.

wait.

.

He's looking at you.

.

Y/N HE'S LOOKING AT YOU

You instantly turn back around and stare your paper with such intensity that if looks could burn, the flimsy piece of paper would've been long gone by now.

Well that's an amazing way to initiate contact. Great job!

Since that creepy eye contact, you didn't even dare look at his general direction

Unknown to you, he was smiling since he caught you staring at him with a hint of a dreamy smile.

He thought you looked cute with blood rushing to your cheeks.

He should try to make you flustered more often. Actually he should've tried a lot of things.

But him being a wimp is getting in his way of even looking at you nicely.

After revising your paper, you hand it in and head out.

Anyways

yeET FINALS ARE OVERRR

Walking to the entrance, you make a list of all the delicious food you're gonna eat and get fat now while binge watching all the dramas that had to be kept on hold due to exam season TT

BUT FINALLY ITS OVER SNSMMDMD

YEEEHEE

The sun suddenly seemed brighter and the sky seemed bluer.

you put in your earphones and settled on a favorite after much thought.

Ah life is sweet

And then it isn't

As you neared the entrance, a group of boys caught your eye. What surprised you more than them staring at you was the fact that Jungkook was one of them.

They immediately went back to talking amongst themselves.

Huh

Anyyyywaaaayyysss its time to PARTAYYY

So there you were, minding your own business, skipping along the song and mouthing the words.

You know, beautiful life.

But this peace didn't last long when your tranquil venture was interrupted by heavy and fast footsteps behind you.

Oh shit what if its a kidnapper. Oh shit oh shit oh shit

Instinctively, you looked behind.

Jungkook

Oh wait it's Jungkook. Hah not a kidnapper.

Oh wait

its JUNGKOOK

What if he's here to talk about the weird eye contact.

OhMY GOD OH MY GOD OY MY GOD OH MY GOD OHMY-

He stopped right in front of you and you swore your heart would leap out and break dance in front of you any moment now.

He glanced behind him at a black van.

Oh wait maybe he IS here to kidnap me.

Good as long as the weird eye contact isn't brought up.

He looks back at you and you're like ????

He says hey

You say hi

And then you're just standing there.

He again looks back at that kidnapping van and this time some of those boys from earlier stick their heads out and give him a thumbs up and you're again like ????

"So ummm.. hehe.." Jungkook looks away from you and your hoe-for-shy-boys side is just really to jUMp out of your skin and on him

"hey you tryna kidnap me or something" you smile, trying to ease his extrEMely visible tension thats being emitted from him in squiggly Iines like those in cartoons and stuff

but you're like honestly confused???when he keeps opening his mouth and closing it like a fish trying to breath in air

and as cruel as it sounds but you haTE it when someone interrupts your music sessions and its not an exception this time either,

even though the reason of interruption is extremely pretty and you're entertained just by looking at him

"...heyyy??"

"oh um... well..its just.."

"You know what nevermind Jungkook. I'll do the rest"

you look to your right and

its one of those boys

and boYY HE'S just as pretty as Jungkook if not more and you'd think you're drooling but actually you're quite a composed lady so you just normally very un-creepily look at him.

Composed lady my as-

"Hi I'm Namjoon. I'm Jungkook's friend. And I'm just here to-"

"Hi iM YOUR HOPE YOU'RE MY HOPE IM J HOPEEE"

"Hobi cAlm down you're not calling yourself that"

"hiii excujje meee I'm Jimin nice to meet you y/n"

"jimin calm down and get insi- TAE DON'T PUSH JIMIN LIKE THAT"

"GoddAMnit I'm being sqUISHED you guys let me breath-"

"ah sorry hyung but its y/nnnnnn"

"thats not an excuse to FRIGGIN KILL ME Jimin!"

"i said I'm sorry hyung but come out meet y/n"

"wait but let me breaTHsjnxxn hoBIII"

"GUYS CALM THE HECK DOWN YOU'RE SCARING HER" namjoon yelled.

wow

Ok

"umm we're really sorry. Please gimme a sec" and then he was like guys get the frick in or I'll personally kick your asses to the moon and it was supposed to be a whisper but you heard it lolol

So you're standing there like.. ok hi nice to meet you all Im y/n and wait how exactly do you know my name again???

"Jungkook talks so muc-"

"aaAAAHHHA BBBBSHHH ye ye i told them about you haha ye ye that's why they know" and he's like furiously sweating and stuttering and you're like waah ok ok calm down I don't want you having a heart attack or something good god

"Anyways, hi I'm Namjoon and I'm a friend of Kookie here" he smiles and OH THOSE GOOD FREAKING DIMPLES SOMEONE DROWN ME IN THEM

"kindly ignore these savages here" and you find that really funny so you're like "lolol that's fine XD XD haha" and smiling and all

The rest of them introduce themselves and by the end, your name just sounds unreal because of all the "hey I'm y/n"s and did i mention each of them is like.. a freaking living masterpiece?? and like so so sweet, except the Yoongi guy, he's a bit quite but you can't judge because you're like that most of the times too but you're an amazing person and so might be he .

then you ask them why they are here

"so actually, we're here because," he looks at Jungkook, "Jungkook is a coward."

"huh???"

"well you seem like a sweet girl and we decided we'd get Jungkook to ask you to hangout but he is of course a coward and thats why I had to pipe in to save him because Jungkook really likes you a lot an-"

"AAAAAAAAABABABA BALAKLAVA CHOCOLATE CAKE BANANA MILK yes hyung I'll handle this you leave" and he's just pushing all of them back in the van like a sack of potatoes despite their protests and then they just...take off??

What the-?

"ehh??"

"um..ijustwannaaskifyouwannahangoutsometimemaybeifyouwant" his eyes are closed and nose is crinkled and you just wanna SQUISH SQUISH SQUISH HIS GHADDAMNED FACE

"uh what?"

"i..i just wanna..askifyouwannahangoutsometime"

"umm?? Sorry could you please speak a tad slower??"

and he seems like he's suffocated now, like his ears are just red and sweating even more and honestly he's worrying you now

"dude you okay?? You seem really red. Here have some water" Dude. Yes. You're cool unlike those fanfic girlies with their blushing and stuttering. You're a complete badass actua-

He takes the bottle from your hand and gulps everything down and you're just like hey thats my water! but you gave it to him to drink so you can't really say anything

and okay he really seems like a fish who just got dropped in a bowl of water after being on land for 3 days

yea wait that won't work he'd die so like

he really seems like a fish who got dropped in water after being on land for like 3 minutes

So ok he seems human now

"yes you were saying?"

"Uh...do you..um.. would you wanna hangout sometime? If you're free that is.. only if you want to though" and he's like blushing a little and just so cute and you just nsndnfnfkwk

But you're also like OoO

"i-i mean d-dont worry its not like a date or anything i mean if you want it can be a date but i don't think you want that so like its just normal two people hanging out and its just like I really like you you're really cute and i just wanna hangout and just-" he takes a deep breath

"uhh.." you look down.

He just kinda confessed to you so you're kinda ?!?!?!?! right now but you also don't like dating and stuff because? Why would you waste your time on someone when in the end you're gonna just get your heart broken and like, yea that might not happen but you'd just rather sleep

But like, this weird voice at the back of your head says that you should go for it even though you're breaking your rules but like rules are made to be broken you know but you're also scared but you really don't wanna say no to him cos

well you kinda maybe a little bit like him ok?

"uumm.." your brain still can't form coherent sentences

"it's ok. Don't worry." He says and you look up and he has this sad expression and you're like NXNFFDND DON'T BE SAD PLEASE HEAR ME OUT but of course you say that in a more composed way

Ms. Composed lady

"no Jungkook that's not what i mean um.. actually.." so you explain how you think its a waste of time and stuff and you also explain that you really really really wanna get to know him more

"so..can you give me some time? Please?? So at least I can have you as a friend if you don't like me anymore later??" and he seems to be thinking and you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind

"I'll take you for ice-cream!!" and that seems to convince him

"and banana milk too??"

"sure"

And the sweetest little smile dawns on his lips and he's just nodding his head and you're just UwU

"but you finished all my water though."

[afrodeitiess]

Wedding Bells

𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐒 | Prologue

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Tony Stark x Black!Oc

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1780 Words

          THE CREAMY WHITE wedding dress seemed to become tighter with each growing second, constructing her breathing and pushing her chest together so that her breasts had no other direction to go but up, up, up.

         Topanga Woods has never once imagined that she'd be here. She'd never thought that she would ever choose to spend the rest of her life with one person and she remembered being quite averse to the idea of marriage. She was as stubborn as they came and that she was no picnic to be around. The idea of marriage has always felt very far away, like some inevitable fate that would one day catch up with her and drain all of the light from her life.

          Every single time that her father had brought up the topic of marriage before, she'd always said that she'd die all alone and surrounded by a million cats and while her stance on the cats still had not changed, it was now hard to imagine her life without Tony Stark. It was difficult to say exactly when her feelings for the millionaire, playboy genius, philanthropist - his words, not hers - had suddenly morphed from hatred to mere tolerance and eventually to love but she'd never imagined that she'd be so excited at the prospect of walking down the aisle and becoming his wife.

         Despite all of this, Topanga felt an iron grip over her heart, squeezing and wrenching until she felt as if she could just crawl into a hole and die. She'd known to expect this as she'd lived her entire with anxiety and she was always second-guessing her decisions and sweating the simple things but all of her fears and doubts were bubbling over inside of her.

          What sort of wife would she make? She wasn't the most accommodating person and she required her standard eight hours of sleep to function. Topanga had a tendency to self-destruct, to simply give up or ruin something before she could end up hurt and alone. Being with Tony made her happy and she loved being able to wake up next to him every morning and being able to make him smile with a simple corny joke. She loved him and she wanted the best for him but she couldn't shake the feeling that he deserved better. Somebody else.

        Besides, the title of Tony Stark's wife would definitely be different from all of the ones that she'd occupied previously. They'd started out as enemies and rivals and with time, they became friends and eventually, she was his girlfriend and then lover. And in the sum of a few years, she'd managed to add fiancée to the list and now, she was taking in the title of his wife.

         What sort of mother would she make? She hadn't known her own mother as anything other than the woman had left her father soon after she was born. All that Topanga had ever had was her father and a letter from the woman who had birthed her. She didn't particularly care for her mother. What a pair she and Tony made with their various mommy and daddy issues.

         Topanga allowed herself to chuckle at her own thoughts and shift ever so slightly. The little movement was enough to catch her seamstress' attention. "Stop moving. You're going to mess up your dress and then you'll have to walk down the aisle looking like a mess." Topanga adhered to her instruction and resisted the urge to retort that stating all of the things that could go wrong was not helping her anxiety at all. She was already singing that song to herself on repeat.

         Within half an hour, her makeup was all done and Topanga was grateful, although she couldn't feel her face. She sat in front of the mirror and glanced over her shoulder to make sure that her makeup artist wasn't looking before she wiped furiously at the vivid red lipstick that she'd painted all over her lips. "Are you decent?" Topanga heard a voice call from the door. She could recognize her best friend's voice anywhere.

         "Decent," she called to Alex and she heard two sets of footsteps from the door.

         "It's nothing I haven't seen before anyways," a voice called and the words were followed by a low chuckle. Topanga could hardly stop the smile that perched itself on her lips, despite her upset feelings. Her husband-to-be. She turned around to find Tony stumbling into the room, hands over his eyes.

         "I found him outside straight up freaking out," Alexis explained as she led Tony by the arm further into the large room.

         "I was not freaking out. Tony Stark doesn't freak out."

         Topanga scoffed underneath her breath as she could recall several times that he'd done just that. She smiled at him, although he couldn't see her and picked up the bottom of her dress and she waved off the makeup artist to give them some time alone. "Hey baby," she greeted him.

         "Hey," he returned and despite her closed eyes, she could hear the smile in his voice. "I wasn't sure if it was seeing the bride or talking to her on the wedding day that's bad luck."

         Topanga chuckled at him and turned around before instructing him to do the same. "What's wrong?" she asked, taking a step in his general direction and she heard him do the same. "You're not going to disappear on me, are you?" Her tone was joking and for the most part, she was but she couldn't help the fear that crept into her mind and her moisture that seemed to materialize on her palms.

         "I would never. Besides, I highly doubt that there's any distance that would stop you from hunting me down and making my life hell," he said, laughing lightly as stepped to the right in the direction of her voice.

         "True," Topanga admitted with a shrug. She took another step back, using the sound of his voice as a guide. "All of these preparations are getting to me. It would be much easier if we just eloped."

         Tony's answer came far too quickly for her comfort. It seemed that he, too, was second-guessing everything. "We still could. We could run away from here and get engaged in Vegas. It's really nice there this time of the year. I know people there that can marry us for little to no money - I did that once, true story - and then we can honeymoon around the world and come back and show off the tan that we don't have."

         Topanga's brow jutted up at the insinuation that Tony had been married once although she was sure that it was another story from his crazy life and she wasn't all that excited to hear about it. She lifted her feet back one step towards him. This time she was sure that she was close. She could feel it. She lifted her hand to grab his and was met with cool air. "To your left, Tony. No, not my left. Your left."

     This time she reached back and her skin made contact with his and she wrapped her hand around him and exhaled quietly. She rested her back against him and their hands intertwined behind them and suddenly, nothing mattered. Not the doubts that she was having or the too-tight dress or Tony's Vegas story. All of her doubts were reduced to whimpering whispers at the back of her mind. She felt Tony exhale and slump a bit. "Where is all this coming from, Tony?" she asked after the silence became too much bear.

         "I'm not sure," he whispered to her as they both sunk to the ground, not caring that it would be really bad if her dress was stained. "You know that I never really pictured myself getting married. Commitment? Gross, right. But I always figured that I would eventually and I love you. I absolutely want to spend the rest of my life with you but I don't know, I just always thought if I ever did get married, that my mom would be there."

        Topanga couldn't think of anything to say. They talked about everything but while they'd talked about his parents before, she knew that it was a touchy subject for him. She wasn't sure that there was anything that she could say that would fix it so she didn't say anything. She simply rubbed circles at the back of his hand. It wasn't much but to Tony, it was everything. She was there and that was all that mattered the most. Still, he couldn't stop himself from voicing his fears to her. "Do you think we're making a mistake?"

         Topanga sighed. "I really don't know." There was something quite daunting about having to voice her worried out loud. Even if it was to the person who knew her best. She got the sense that she didn't have to say it anyway. He already knew. "I hope not but we're human and making mistakes is what we do best. We're all too skilled at shattering but we're together, right? And we'll always be able to put the pieces back together."

          Topanga wasn't sure if she believed it or if she was simply trying to convince herself but she really hoped it was true because she'd found something great with Tony and she wasn't willing to give it up. Not now.

         A beat passed between them.

         "God, I really want to kiss you right now," Tony commented, his fingers playing with hers. "You know that I'm absolutely in love with you, right?"

         "You've said it once or twice," she laughed at him and she was surprised to find that she didn't feel as awful as she did before. If anything, she was in a hurry to put a ring on him and officially make him hers. "I love you." She leaned back against him and he squeezed her hands tighter as if she was his only tether to the world around him.

         Topanga couldn't help but think that everything would be okay. They were only two people and they were, by no means, perfect but they were together and they were in the eye of the storm. It was quiet and perhaps that was all they'd ever have but it was them against the world and that was more than enough for the two troubled souls.

___________________

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄.

━ So that was the first chapter and it’s kind of tame and not nearly as emotional as the rest of the story will get but I hope you enjoyed it. Like and reblog if you did

[starlightsearches]

His Pilot Ch. 6 (SFW)

Masterlist

Armitage Hux x Pilot! Reader (f)

NSFW Version of the chapter can be found here.

Warnings: Language, angst.

The fire paints with dim, golden streaks on the ceiling above your bed—not bright enough to keep you awake, if you could manage to close your eyes.

You should be tired, exhausted. You should have fallen into the deepest sleep of your life before you even managed to crawl between the sheets. But you can’t. And you’re not.

Rest stays elusive, no matter how hard you try. After everything that’s happened, every promise and commitment you made in the blazing heat of the moment, it would be wise to take this time alone to think about what’s been done, and what cannot be undone.

And instead you're thinking about how it would feel to have Armitage's lips against your neck.

You huff at yourself, turning once again, the sheets in a tangle around your legs from your restless movements.

The knock at the door is so quiet, you’re sure you’ve imagined it. You want him to be there, but finding the hallway empty would be unbearable. The sound comes again, slightly louder, and you close your eyes, offer your hopes to the universe, and slip from between the sheets.

It takes effort to keep from running—even on your sore and tired legs—your footsteps marking an even beat against the floor, not loud enough to drown out the rapid strike of your heartbeat as your fingers curl around the cool metal of the door handle.

It could be Day, checking to make sure that you’re alright. Or Alida with fresh clothes for tomorrow or more wood for the fireplace.

The door opens; all your fears go quiet. It’s him.

“I . . .” Armitage hesitates, eyes gone wide when he sees you, shoulders positioned away from the door, like he's ready to run, “I couldn’t sleep, and I thought . . .”

Thank gods. You manage to keep your excitement to yourself, stepping out of the way so that he can enter.

The fire burns low in the hearth, casting more shadows than light at this point, bringing the walls in closer and shrinking the room, small enough that you can’t help but stand close to him.

He’s still in his clothes from before, except for the jacket—the fabric stiff with rain. His hair has lost any of the gel he had put in it that morning, and it falls across his forehead in soft waves—longer than you expected it to be—before he brushes it back with one ungloved hand.

“I— I didn’t mean to bother you,” he says, his throat jumping slightly when he swallows, eyes on the mess of sheets and blankets on your bed. He clasps his hands tighter behind his back when you rest your hand on his arm, the skin of his knuckles turning white.

“You’re not bothering me, I couldn’t sleep either.”

His eyebrows raise, the breath he was holding brushing your skin when he finally releases it. “Really?”

“Yes." You continue to shrink the space between you, looking up at him through your lashes.

He frowns, confused. “Why not?”

“I was thinking about you.” He can't not know what you're waiting for at this point, standing so close you can feel the heat from his skin through his clothes, staring pointedly at his lips.

He holds your hand to his face, and you think you've finally gotten through to him, letting your eyes flutter closed, but he doesn't come any closer, and when you meet his eyes again, they're full of pain.

“I’m— I’ll never be able to express how sorry I am for all of this. I’ve ruined—”

You kiss him with an exasperated sigh—kiss him to shut him up, kiss him because you can’t wait any longer. It stuns him, but he kisses you back, his hand at your jaw, lips moving seamlessly against yours.

It’s exactly what you wanted—uncomplicated, pure connection. He won’t listen to you when his own insecurities are so loud, but he can feel this: the urgency of your mouth against his, the sincere desire in your sighs.

There’s no forethought, no planning, just need—every movement motivated only by desire. He stumbles back on the bed, sinking into the plush mattress, pulling you down against him with his arm at your waist until you’re a mess of shifting legs and desperate, roaming hands.

It’s need that presses your hips against his thigh, warm and solid between your legs, need that has you sliding your core against the firm press of his body, sighing into his open mouth.

You reach for his shirt collar, pulling him closer, the buttons slipping easily from their hold under the strength of your hands until you can grip at the skin beneath—his neck, his collarbone, each valley and ridge mapping itself beneath your touch, searching lower, deeper, for more.

You’re left staring at the ceiling with wide eyes and empty hands.

Armitage turns to you, half his face in shadow as he sits on the edge of the bed, running his palms over the silk covers methodically, as if he’s trying to make sure that there's something real beneath him.

“Is everything . . . alright?” you whisper, apprehensive. There’s a sinking pit in your stomach, a terrible strain between your need to touch him and your fear of pushing him away.

He waits a moment before answering with an unconvincing nod.

“Yes, of course. I’m— I apologize.”

He looks so broken, defeated, and you don’t even know what you’ve done to make him this way. With no other options, you shift closer, stroke your fingers over the back of his neck in what you hope is a soothing gesture. His shoulders relax minutely, pressing closer against your hand, and even this little sliver of contact makes your stomach soar.

“There’s nothing for you to apologize for. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

He scoffs, turning away from you, and it's only then that you realize the anger in his eyes is directed inward.

Your chest collapses, folding in on itself in shame.

“Armitage,” you hook one finger under his chin, forcing him to look you in the eyes, “it’s alright. I’m not upset, or angry. We don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to do.”

His jaw tightens, eyes heavy with an unspoken pain. “Please, don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not. You don’t have to worry about me, Armitage.”

He pauses, quiet, shifting in his seat, clearly still embarrassed despite your assurance, “I should return to my room.”

You stop him with a hand on his chest, “Don’t, please, stay with me.”

He flushes, red from his temples to his cheeks; his shame only just overpowered by the desire to stay with you. “I’d need a change of clothes.”

You press your lips together, biting away a smile, “I think I can help with that.”

The trip to his room and back is uneventful, thankfully. The hallways are dim and empty, and the house is large enough that you don’t have to worry about waking anyone, or having to explain your trip to Armitage's quarters in the middle of the night.

The refresher is off when you get back, the room swallowed by silence, and you knock on the door to let him know that you’ve returned from your little mission.

“Come in.”

He speaks quietly but you still manage to hear him, bracing yourself before you enter the refresher, greeted by a wall of steam that clings to your skin and collects in your lashes like tears. Armitage stands, bare from the waist up, staring at his hazy reflection in the fogged glass.

His back is to you, pale white skin pulled tight over sharp shoulder blades, dotted with freckles and occasionally marred by the white stripe of a long-healed scar. There’s another mark, an unexpected one on his left shoulder, just below the junction of his neck.

He watches your approach through the glass, no longer covered in mist now that you’ve let the cold air in, the leftover condensation dripping down its surface like rain before pooling at the edge of the counter.

It’s not a very large tattoo, about the length and width of your thumb: a small sprig of flowers, like the ones you saw on your trip to the market. You trace the lines—the dark green of the stem and where it fades into the soft, white petals—with the tip of your finger, memorizing the pattern.

“It’s Halia,” he says with a cough, “they’re the flowers that grow on the mountains along the shoreline. She was named after them. It was the first thing I did after leaving the academy, in her memory when—” he pauses, voice thick with emotion, “—when I thought she was dead.”

You nod, stroking your thumb over his shoulder, unwilling to speak just yet, in case it breaks whatever spell has overcome him.

“It scared me, for most of my childhood. I’d wake up in the middle of the night and for a few moments I’d be terrified, thinking I’d forgotten her name. My father, he told me the truth when I was very young. Maybe he thought I’d be ashamed, but I couldn’t be. She was the only thing that separated me from that man, and I worried that if I forgot her, like he had, I’d end up like him, too.”

It’s the most he’s ever said to you in a single sitting, bared to you not just physically, but emotionally as well. It's the moment you've been waiting for.

“If she knew the truth,” you whisper, kissing the bend right above the tattoo, “she would be proud of you.”

His hand covers yours, pressed tighter against his skin. “I hope you’re right.”

He glows in the darkness beside you, skin bright and reflective as a moon, and you stroke your hand over his cheek as he slumbers, brush the dark, still-damp hair from his eyes, your other hand firmly held in his own.

You rest your head against the pillow, laying on your side. He'll be the last thing you see before you drift off tonight, and the first you'll see when you wake up.

You fall asleep knowing that you made the right choice.

Hux Tag List: @theredwolfisalesbian, @aramanna, @catboykenobii

Join my tag list here!