slow melt

anonymous asked:

how about heaven telling Cas he will have to stay with Kelly and raise the child together and when Dean finds out, well you can guess he will no take the news really great??

“Since when did you start taking orders again?” Dean asked. He was sitting, planted at a table, half turned in his chair, elbow propped up on the back of it.

Cas shook his head. There was a lump in his throat, but he couldn’t seem to swallow it. “It’s not an order, Dean, it’s a request. If I do it, the slate’ll be wiped clean. I’ll be right with heaven again. I won’t have to run. It’s a good thing.”

“Yeah, sounds real good.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, you get the little hellspawn on your hip, and then what? What do you even know about raising a baby?”

“I’ll learn,” he said without conviction.

“You’ll learn… how to raise the devil’s baby… all by yourself.”

“Not raise, protect. And I’ll only be by myself if Kelly doesn’t make it through the birth.”

Keep reading

Forest Fire Curse


There’s a stunning lack of curses around here that make use of houseplants so I’m gonna do you all a favour and fix that shit up right now.

Forest Fire Curse

No, we’re not starting an actual forest fire. That is dangerous and illegal and also what the fuck. This curse is an emotional curse designed to inflict long-term suffering on someone who wronged you. This is at least the second pettiest curse that you’ve seen in a long while, probably. 

You will need:

  • A houseplant that you can take leaves or clippings from. Something like aloe vera, a spider plant, a Christmas cactus, etc. 
  • Clay (or something similar) that can dissolve with water. Most clay can if you don’t fire it, but if you’re not sure, do a little bit of research.
  • A black marker
  • A pencil or sharp object
  • A candle or open source of flame. It doesn’t have to be a specific candle, but go ahead and use a black one if you like, since every other curse does. (The leaves are the important part here, not the fire source.)

Steps

First, you’ll want to make sure your plant is watered, well-taken care of, and healthy, otherwise this isn’t going to work and you’ll just make a mess. 

Get out your clay and make a little disc or idol; this will represent the person you’re cursing. Draw a sigil or symbol, or even a picture of their face, in the clay with your sharp thing, and leave it to dry. This will take anywhere from a couple of hours to a couple of days depending on what kind of clay you’re using, but as long as you keep it small, it shouldn’t take too long. 

Then, when it’s dry, take a leaf or clipping off of your plant, and with the marker, draw a symbol on it that matches the one on your clay idol. Next, take your clay piece and put it in the soil of the plant. (If you like talking to plants, now is a good time to let it know you’re going to be using it to curse someone.) Get your flame ready, and light your leaf on fire. If it’s a waxy plant, it’ll be more of a slow melt, whereas if it’s a more dry/papery specimen, it’ll probably go up immediately, so be careful. While that fucker burns, say anything along the lines of “I cast a lingering burn upon he who has hurt me”, but like, the phrasing doesn’t matter that much. If you want to get deep and specify what kind of pain you’re inflicting, go for it, otherwise it’s basically up to nature. When you’re done, sprinkle some water on the clay in the soil, and put the plant up into a window.

Now, here’s the fun part: that little clay idol will slowly degrade as long as you keep it in the pot, because every time you pour water on it, it softens a bit. Your curse is going to last as long as that piece stays there, slowly integrating itself into the soil. I’ve personally never kept track of people I’ve done this to - they tend to disappear out of my life after a little while - so the curse may or may not slowly degrade over time too. Even if it does, though, it’s pretty strong anyway, and since it lasts so long, you probably won’t need to throw another curse on top of it by the time you’re down to the end.


There, now the rest of you angry gardeners out there have something too! Hope this helps someone out there. (:

Did You Enjoy Yourself Last Night? (Thomas Jefferson x Reader)

WARNING: SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT

I’m sorry if this is not what the requester originally intended. I just took the first idea I thought given the prompt and I ran with it. It’s not totally NSFW but boy oh boy is it steamy. THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I’VE EVER WRITTEN SMUT PLEASE DON’T HURT ME. Enjoy!

“You know, you really need to be careful around me when you’re in that dress,” Jefferson stated, a wide grin spread across his face, and a mischievous spark in his eyes. 

You smiled back.

“Well maybe that’s my intent, Mr. Jefferson.” 

You had been seeing Thomas for a few weeks now, and had been growing fonder and fonder of him. Tonight he had taken you out to a very posh restaurant, which was something you weren’t entirely used to, but your experience there so far had been exquisite. You had definitely dressed for the occasion: a velvet, deep purple dress that hugged your curves perfectly. You knew you looked amazing, and you could tell that Thomas agreed by the way he had been eyeing you the entire night long. The dinner had been finished, and you both were sitting at the table drinking glasses of red wine.

“Ah, dear (Y/N), I have some plans for you tonight…” he said, his voice getting raspy.

“Plans?” you raised your eyebrows as you asked innocently.

He chuckled.

“Drink some more wine, dear.”

***********************************************************

You were walking back to your home, arm and arm with Jefferson. It was almost completely dark out, your pathway only being lit by the stars and candles sitting in the windows of homes. You were both quiet, but enjoying each others presence anyhow. You approached your home.

“So,” Jefferson suddenly said, as you approached your porch.

“Should I kiss you goodbye tonight?”

He suddenly snagged you by the waist, pulling your body up against his, and locking his arms behind your back.

“Or tomorrow morning?”

You blushed, giggled, and tried to wriggle out of his arms.

“Let go of me!” you exclaimed between laughs.

“Nope. You’re mine now, pretty lady!” He laughed before diving down to shower a myriad of little kisses on your cheeks. 

You giggled as you writhed in his arms, but to no avail. He had quite the grip on you.

Suddenly, his fast pecks melted into slow, sensual ones. He would kiss your cheek gently and linger there for a moment before finding a new spot, and planting another gentle kiss there. You stopped wriggling.

Eventually he began working his way up your jawbone. You felt a certain warmness in your stomach. You longed for him, and he knew you did. He was enjoying every second of teasing you. He was going to make you beg.

He continued placing kisses dangerously close to your lips, before moving down to your neck, peppering the area. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Please…”

You felt him smile. He let out a chuckle before finally pressing a soft kiss to your lips. He then lifted his head up, looking down and smiling at you. You wanted more.

“Again…”

“Again what?”

“Again…please…”

His grin grew wider before crashing his lips into yours. You were surprised by how sweet and velvety they were. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer as your lips moved in sync. You felt his hands suddenly begin to slide down your back, until they reached your ass. You continued making out as you felt him give you a light squeeze. 

Two could play at that game.

You unwrapped one of your hands from his neck, and gently placed it on the area between his legs. You slowly began to move your hand back and forth, back and forth. 

He let out a moan as he bit your bottom lip.

You continued.

Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

Suddenly, he parted from you. You didn’t care. You continued stroking him.

Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

His excitement was becoming more and more noticeable.

You looked up at him, beaming.

He chuckled.

“Naughty, naughty, naughty.”

“Do something about it.” you suggested.

“If you insist.”

He bent down and threw you over his shoulder. You let out a playful scream as he carried you into the house, slamming the door behind him and heading towards the nearest piece of furniture. He finally set you down in your bedroom.

“Now then, as much as I love this dress on you, I think it’s time you lost it.”

You turned around and he began pulling at the lace on the back, loosening the dress as it began to fall off of you. Once it had completely slid off, you began to turn you around. He stopped you, and quickly pushed you up against the nearest wall. He breathed heavily as he passionately kissed the back of your neck, then gently sucking and biting on your neck and shoulders. His hands slid their way to your breasts, and he fondled you while running his tongue along the new hickeys. 

You let out a moan and a light cry as he suddenly brought his hand down on your ass. 

“My God, (Y/N), we should have done this long ago…” he breathed as he massaged your breast with one hand and your ass with the other.

He then slowly turned you around, and began kissing you once again, He grinded his hips into yours.

“You know,” you began, pulling your lips away from his, “I think it’s time you lost some clothes.”

He smirked, stepped back from you and began undressing. First his coat, followed by his shirt, followed by his belt, followed by his pants. You both stood before each other in your underwear. You admired his chest and abdomen, both abundant with muscle. You placed your hand on his chest, and slowly moved it down to his abs. 

“Wow…” you breathed.

He smirked, enjoying the attention. You always knew he was a handsome man, but he looked irresistible with his shirt off.

He suddenly drew close to you, hooked his arms around your thighs, and lifted you up. You giggled as he carried you towards the bed, then set you down and gave you a light push so you laid flat on your back. 

He sat on the space below you, before lifting up your legs and giving gentle kisses to your inner thighs, inching closer and closer to your panties. Finally, he reached dead center, and began kissing the cloth, which progressed into long, sensual licks. You arched your back and moaned, as he continued to lick you. Finally, he slid your panties down, and skillfully worked them off your legs. He then returned, burying his face in you and overwhelming you with pleasure.

*********************************************************

You woke up to birds chirping and the the sun glaring through your window. You were laying on Thomas’s chest, snuggled up next to him. Sitting up, you realized he was already awake, and watching you.

“I was waiting for you to get up, my love. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Thank you.” You smiled before leaning down, giving him a good morning kiss.

He smiled and rested his hand on your hip.

“Did you enjoy yourself last night?”

You laughed out loud.

“We should really do that again sometime.”

He sat up and placed his hand on your cheek.

“Who says we have to wait?” He asked before placing his lips on yours.

Pyrite

Doctor x Rose, not!angst, written for @doctorroseprompts‘ ‘ramifications of Bad Wolf’ prompt. This has been sitting on my hard drive for years, waiting for the perfect moment. There is a lot more of it, but I don’t know where it’s going yet, so this is all you get for now. ~2500 words. 

The cracks are how the light gets in.


Rose likes to watch him when she thinks he doesn’t notice. When he’s tinkering with the TARDIS or reading something, glasses perched on his nose and shoulders curled over the pages. She likes how soft he looks, how human. She remembers the blazing fire of his rage, incandescent and terrifying; she knows the darkness of his soul, shattered into as many pieces as the lost planet Gallifrey.

And then, Rose looked into the TARDIS, and the TARDIS looked into her and Rose became the Bad Wolf, and the Bad Wolf looked into the Doctor. She saw him, all his foibles, all his triumphs, golden wings beating in the corners of her vision and the dizzying spin of time in her veins. He’s not human. He’s so much more alien than she ever believed. And yet, when he curls up next to her on the sofa in the green library, long legs wearing soft pants and no shoes on his feet, he’s just the Doctor, a slightly more than eccentric man with an odd penchant for bananas.

And then, they’re facing down a slobbering pack of wild pig-things in some far-flung corner of the universe and it’s as if he’s regained the mantle that he sheds when they are alone together in the TARDIS. The coat billows out behind him, and sometimes she swears he picks breezy spots on purpose just so he can look impressive while he defends her from the antagonistic alien of the day. But she can see it. She can see the moment when he stops being just the Doctor and becomes a Time Lord. She can see it in the set of his shoulders, and in his eyes, ancient in that young face, staring down the length of an energy blade, his fearless posture the perfect buttress for her own courage.

In those moments, she swears she can hear the singing in the back of her mind and she can feel the beating of wings against her vision, fingers of golden light curling and twining around herself and the Doctor. Rose breathes in and the threads of Time stretch out before her in her mind. She can see all that ever was, and all that ever will be and she knows all the outcomes of all the choices and then it’s gone, when she blinks, and she never tells him what she sees.

On Draynar 9 she hears the whisper of the knife in the hand of the native at their backs and screams. The Doctor turns, avoiding a blow that would have killed a lesser being and netting him a nasty slash across the back of his hand that she insists on stitching herself in the med bay, hands shaking; the afterimage of another possible outcome fresh in her mind. In ancient Egypt, she knows the answer to the Sphinx’s riddle before they’re even asked and the Doctor watches her carefully as they make a pit stop in present-day London for Rose’s necessities. They don’t discuss it as they’re thrown headlong into another adventure on an impossible planet and it’s Rose that kills the devil as the Doctor saves them from a black hole. He never does tell her exactly what happened in the pit, but she sees the way he reaches out for her more often and notices he sleeps less than usual for a time afterward.

They avoid what would have been death for her and regeneration for him on an out of the way moon in the Andromeda galaxy when Rose figures out the assassination plot and sniffs out the traitors, while the Doctor is busy disarming this week’s doomsday device, and it’s Rose, blonde hair flying on a windless planet with the turn of the universe burning in her eyes, that stares down the invading force, and it is she that sends them running.

Keep reading

Nightmare

Seth Rollins/OC: You have a terrible nightmare and the first person you can think of to call is your ex while you’re crying and hoping he can help cheer you up. Fluff then smut. Requested by @screamersdontdance

I wrote another request!!! It’s lit! But I have more Braun ideas so the next couple may be Braun again. Idk yet tho, we’ll see.

Tagging my lovelies: @lavitabella87 @omgmissmillie @everybodyfinnfreeze @shadow-of-wonder @laochbaineann @justtookawaii @sarrahcha @attilasgurl @twiistedbliiss @hotspurmadridista @alexispoo @niazha16 @happelu970 @officialbroski10-blog @artemisapalla316 @crowleysqueenofhell @lilmisscrisis @antigonemaia @imnoaingeal @littledeadrottinghood @imagineall-the-fandoms @fuckyeahbulletclub @hiitsmecharlie @macfizzle @bizclizbaybay @oraclegazes @culturalrebel @welshwitch5 @wrasslesmut @actualamyautopsy

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Volleyball- Connor McDavid

Originally posted by mcdraii

Ok so not going to lie… I’m ignoring the NHL. Ovi’s going to the Olympics, so everyone’s going! (Yes no I got the notification too, just ignoring it!) So this has a smut at the end, but I marked it so it gets a little hot, but you can read up until the divider or you can skip it! Whatever makes you comfortable! So if you don’t want to continue, up next: Sidney Crosby Mom and Dad part 4!

Warning: mentions of fights, smut under the second divider!

@astilinski24 Request: Could you do a Connor Mcdavid imagine where you secretly join a volleyball team again and you get asked to play for Canada and he gets mad you didn’t tell him and then you argue and things get heated . If you do smut maybe end with a smut

~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/

              You hadn’t expected to get this far to be honest.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

can you do one where the reader and josh bump into each other in the elevator and it becomes like a daily routine kinda thing? idk like fluff and cuteness

i’m so sorry that i’m so slow at updating lately, but i worked really hard on this one, so hopefully it’ll make up for my absence a bit!! enjoy xx.

JOSH DUN IMAGINE

You stretch out your stiff limbs, cringing when you hear a few, loud pops and roll over in bed, hitching the covers up to your chin. You slowly peel your eyes open, rubbing away at the crusted sleep. It’s too bright. So, so bright and your alarm hasn’t even gone off yet. Wait. Your alarm hasn’t gone off yet.  Why hasn’t your alarm gone off yet? You flings your arm out to the bedside table, smacking down on the wood blindly until you grab your phone. Preparing for the worst, you light up the screen to realize that it’s 6:17 in the morning. 6:17 as in, you haven’t overslept your alarm; no, in fact, you’re nearly an hour early.  

With a loud sigh, you flop back down on your pillow, your hair fanning out and falling over your eyes.  You turn, facing the window to your right that’s currently the source of the god-for-saken bright light illuminating your entire room.  Of course you forgot to close the curtains last night and of course it would wake you up at 6 o'clock in the morning. You lay still for a moment before accepting the fact that you’ll never be able to fall back asleep and instead, shove the blankets off.

With another glance at the time, - now 6:20 - you decide that you might as well get out of bed and take a hot shower.  But you’d be damned if you didn’t do exactly that with an abundance of mumbles of discontent because really, you just aren’t a morning person.

You normally leave your apartment at 8:00, walk the twenty minutes to work, and pull your coffee-serving-apron on by 8:25. Your routine has been perfected and now you’ve gone and messed it all up by leaving the curtains open.  You have an extra thirty-seven minutes to spare.

You’re quite literally bouncing around on the balls of your feet, freshly showered, completely dressed, hair styled, bag all packed up, and you even made yourself a bagged lunch for the first time since middle school and now… you have absolutely nothing to do.

You sigh before pulling on a pair of gloves, tossing your purse over your shoulder and huff as you decide to just leave early.  Maybe you’d just stop at a different coffee shop along the way to work.

“WAIT! HEY! PLEASE HOLD THE DOOR!” 

"Oops! Sorry, here!”

You race down the rest of the hall to the elevator and run in just in time. You look up with a soft smile, slightly out of breath to see the most beautiful human being… ever.  The air gets sucked right out of your lungs in a gasp of sorts and the man – the beautiful, oddly, yellow-haired, brown eyed, muscular man laughs out an actual giggle. A giggle. Oh Jesus.

“Hey, breathe! It’s alright, you made it. You good?” Another giggle.

And wow. His voice is just as beautiful as he is. All smooth but deep, slow, almost like melted honey and wow.  You are not even sure if he’s real… or human for that matter because, well, wow.

“Uh… you okay?”

Right. Yeah, You’ve been starring and that’s not normal. Of course. Right. Darn it.

“Oh.. uhh.. I.. um… hi. Yeah, I’m good sorry. Guess I’m a bit more out of shape than I thought. Thanks.”

The man smiled and pointed at the lobby button with a quirk to his eyebrow. With a nod from you, he pressed the button and shuffled to the left so you could settle to the right of the lift and you could both go down together.

Okay, so maybe waking up just a bit earlier wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Your day gets worse after being yelled at by numerous customers, acquiring less than four dollars in tips, and spilling jelly from a croissant on your blouse.

But, you have the closing shift, so you work and work and work. You collect dishes and take orders, you wipe tables, serve food, make coffee.

Hours later, and the shop is closed and you’re free to head home, it’s fifteen minutes later than when you normally leave. You fasten your mittens back on and, start the walk back to your apartment complex.

You shuffle to the elevator and bounce on your heels trying to keep warm. You shove your gloved hands into your pocket, tucking your chin under the zipped collar of your jacket and can only think about getting to your apartment and into your bed as soon as possible.

A pair of feet scuttle up next to you suddenly and stand waiting for the elevator too. You notice a pair of bright sneakers and nods in approval. They’re quirky and you could never wear anything so flashy yourself, but you like them.

So, you say so.

“I like your shoes,” you start off as you looks up to face none other than elevator boy from earlier this morning.

The man smiles gently and nods before scuffing his feet on the floor.

“Thanks! Uh.. weird running into you again huh? Twice in one day!”

You nod and let the man step into the elevator first when the doors slide open.

“Well, nice to see you, have a nice night!“

You nod and watch for a moment before turning around and heading to your own room.

And although you would never admit it, you realize that maybe working late wasn’t so bad if it meant running into the boy for the second time that day.

The next morning your alarm goes off at 6:20 and you’re up and out of bed as fast as you can, actually excited to get ready for the day for once.

This time you don’t bounce around, waiting around aimlessly. Instead, you peek out of your door through the peephole in search of a certain head of yellow hair. When you spot him, he checks the time - 7:20 and steps out of his door just as the man presses the down button.

You walk over slowly as the door slides open and throw the man a smile as you steps into the elevator behind him. The man presses the lobby button this time with only a small quirk of his eyebrow towards you.

As the doors slide closed the man shuffles his feet, almost like a nervous habit that you notice, and mutters out, "Second day in a row, funny huh? Don’t think I’ve seen you around before yesterday.”

“Yeah, funny that. I actually just made a bit of a change in my schedule, so I leave the apartment just a bit earlier than I used to. And last night I was working late. Quite the coincidence though.”

It’s not a complete lie. You did in fact work late last night, so bumping into him was accidental and you did actually change your schedule around so you do plan on leaving a bit earlier each morning. But the man beside you being the reason for this slight schedule change is totally false and even if it were true, (which it’s so not)  it’s nobody’s business but your own.

“Oh that’s cool! Maybe I’ll see you around again soon then? I usually head out around this time.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely a possibility!” The doors slide open and there’s an awkward pause before you smile and say, “oh, uh, have a great day!”

And with yet another tiny smirk, the man walks off.

….

You have no need to stay late at work.  Everything is washed and ready for tomorrow and yet, you stare at the clock, wondering what could extend your night another fifteen minutes.  You end up lingering around, rewashing tables and triple checking to make sure all the napkins are full, until you finally head out at quarter past five. So what if you happened to bump into the elevator boy (god you need his name) again?  Not that you were hoping for that… no way.

“Hey! It’s you again. Should I be worried that you’re stalking me?” The man laughs, obviously kidding… if only he knew. But you’re not stalking. You really aren’t.

“Oh shit, you’ve caught me.. and to think I thought I was being sly about it. Figuring out your schedule and all that, working my schedule around it. You’re a clever one.”

So maybe there was more truth to that than elevator boy realized, but that’s definitely not his concern.

The man chuckles softly and steps into the elevator and pushes the first floor button so that it glows a pale orangey-yellow.

“Working hard and late again?”

“I work for the coffee shop down the road and it’s been so busy lately — One of the workers just left so it’s just me for a little while, until they hire someone new.”

“Ouch,” he says, “That sounds rough.”

“It’s not so bad, the extra cash is a gimme. What about you? Where do you work?”

The door slides open and the two of you step out, but wait and finish up your conversation.

"The gym down the road actually. Hence the sneakers and sweatpants every day.”

“Oh, that sounds nice!”

“Yeah, it’s not bad. Well anyways, good luck with your extra hours!”

“Yeah, thanks!”

And with that, you both walk off.

“Morning! Just in time, the elevators on its way up.”

You smirk a knowing smile (of course you’d watched through the peephole again).

“Great thanks! By the way, considering we’ve been at this for a while, I should probably introduce myself. I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Josh. Live down on that end of the hall. Apartment 312 to be exact.”

“325.”

Josh extends his hand out to you - finally a name for the pretty face - .  You’re totally shocked when a giant hand encompasses your own in a firm, but soft and friendly shake, accompanied by a smile. A beautiful smile with a cute little dimple that you nearly missed because you were too busy staring at Josh’s massive hands.

“Nice to meet you Y/N.”

And you thank whatever Gods there were for making you leave your curtains open one crummy Monday night and wake up just a bit too early on a stupid Tuesday morning.

It’s been a week (not that you’re counting or anything like that) and you have figured out this much about Josh from your shared elevator rides in the early mornings and late evenings:

1) He’s beautiful.

2) He has a wide variety of sneakers.

3) He dyed his hair yellow in the dead of winter because he missed the sunshine.

4) He’s definitely a morning person.  Cheery even on Mondays.

5) He works in the opposite direction as the cafe.

6) You really missed him over the weekend; how pathetic is that?

7) He has tattoos - a big one all down his arm. It’s possibly a scenery of some sorts? maybe art? You think it’s art.

8) Josh loves to work out, but hates to eat healthy.

9) Josh is two years older than you and had gone to school in Columbus.

10) Josh just moved to the apartment building about a month ago after graduating with a degree in personal training and getting a full time job at the gym.

11) You’re very much screwed.

"Whoa, Y/N! Do you need a hand?”

Josh rushes forward as you haphazardly hold three giant bags filled to the brims each with groceries. You were trying to reach for the elevator button, but if you leaned over ever so minutely more, you probably would have lost the majority of your meal for the night.. or maybe week.

You peaked your head up over the bag a bit and smiled immediately when spotting Josh. You hesitate before handing over a bag.

“Throwing a party or something? Lots of food.”

“No, uh, I’m just cooking tonight for um, myself and a friend. Haven’t had time to in a while so I took my normal time off work to my advantage and decided to go shopping.”

“You cook?”

The elevator starts to move up and you nod.

“That’s awesome.”

With a blush spreading over your cheeks, you mumble out, ”I mean I’m not a chef or anything, I just like cooking is all.“

"No, shut it, I bet you’re a great cook. Well, I mean anyone is compared to me I guess. I’m twenty-eight years old and I can barely make Ramen noodles correctly.”

You laugh at his comment as the door open.  Josh walks you to your apartment door.  

"I spent a lot of time cooking with my mom back home… got used to always helping out with dinner and baking. Anyways, thank you!”

Josh hands over the bag again and their fingers brush against each other.

And no, that definitely doesn’t send a spark down your spine and it definitely doesn’t leave you with the traces of a smile the rest of the evening either. You’re not some hormonal high school student anymore.

That night you tiptoe down to apartment 312 with a small Tupperware contained filled with food in your hand.  You pin the sticky-note with a messy scrawl on it saying “in case you get sick of Ramen” and leave it outside Josh’s door.

A week of “hi!” “hey there!” “how was your day?” “great how about yours?” “not bad!” “how’s the gym?” “great!” “Shop has been good lately.” “Any new employees?” “no, not yet!“ “that’s too bad!” “I know!“ in the mornings, and exchanges of "out for a run again?” “yeah, trying to stay active!” “wish I had that motivation. Also those neon sneakers. They’re bold.” “thank you!” “I was teasing Josh” “shut up Y/N“ or "let me help you with those groceries” “thanks!” “Jesus what did you buy Y/N?” "just stuff to make dinner tonight.” "for who? Yourself or the entire state of Ohio?” “shut up Josh”

It’s becoming a thing now for you both, but you don’t even realize it. A constant routine of meeting up at the elevator in the mornings, talking about whatever comes to mind so god forsaken early, and then repeating the routine again at night with the bonus of groceries.

It’s a thing and even if neither realize it, you appreciate every morning and evening that you get to see each other.

And this morning is no different than the others when you rush into the open elevator doors, shocking Josh, who was already standing and waiting inside, arm against the doors, into a small jump and loud gasp. Yeah, he holds the door open for a while now if you’re running a bit late. It’s nice. And really cute. It’s a thing.

“Thanks, Josh.”

You’re worried.  You’ve pressed the elevator button three times to keep it open for Josh and well, still no Josh. See, it’s not like him to just not show up without telling you beforehand because he always tells you when he won’t be there in the mornings - like one time Josh had a doctors appointment and was going to sleep in, and another time the gym was closed for some simple renovations and he wasn’t going to be on the elevator in the morning or evening. You don’t really remember when it started, but you both started telling each other when you wouldn’t be on the elevator the day before so that the other isn’t left waiting like you are now. Waiting. You have never had to wait like this.

It’s 7:54, and that’s around 34 minutes later than the normal time Josh would come out, and nearly 20 minutes later than Josh would ever be if he were running late (which had happened one particularly rainy day that Josh had admitted to wanting to spend in bed). You know that you can still make it to the cafe in time if you just leave now, because your old routine was leaving around 8, but you have this weird twisting feeling in your gut and you’re honestly worried, worried, worried and you don’t want to leave without at least checking on Josh.

So that’s what you decide to do - you’ll check on Josh. Just to make sure he isn’t late for work. That’s a reasonable excuse… Right?

You’re really worried.

You walks down the hall and stands outside room 312 and just stare at the small numbers on the door. Just checking. Just making sure. Reasonable.

You knocks on the door with a mostly steady hand and wait.

And wait.

You panic - mostly about Josh’s well being, but also about looking like a total stalker.  Except, just before you try to take a step back, the door opens and there stands Josh.

Josh’s hair is sticking up in all directions except for the front bits which are sticking to his sweat damp forehead.  He looks paler than a ghost with the exception of his very, rosy cheeks. His eyes are blinking rapidly and trying to stay open and his nose is irritated and red as he continues to sniff pathetically. But stupid, stupid, stupid sick Josh just notices you standing at his door like a knob and breaks into a huge smile, before breaking into a coughing fit. Stupid sick Josh.

“Y/N! Sorry, hi, what’re you doing here?”

His voice is scratchy and he sounds slightly nasally and stuffed up and you immediately feel the urge to wrap your arms around his waist and pull him into a hug and baby him.

“Oh my gosh, are you alright? I, uh, I mean… I was waiting at the elevator - thought you might have um, slept in? So, I wanted to check on you. You know, make sure you didn’t, uh, sleep in? Are you okay?”

Josh had started coughing again as you spoke, but as soon as he stops, he just smiles and mumbles out a, “shut up.”

“Don’t tell me to shut up, I was worried about you!”

And fuck, you really didn’t mean to tell Josh that you were worried.

But stupid sick Josh just smiles even brighter and looks ready to burst from the light shining in his eyes and it’s so incredibly endearing. Stupid sick Josh.

"Just sick,” he pauses and sniffs before adding, “it’s cute that you came to check on me. But I’m fine. Really.”

Except, as Josh tells you that ‘he’s fine. really,’ he starts to sway a bit on his feet and he sniffs more and more before beginning yet another coughing fit.

“Yeah, right. 'I’m fine’ my ass, you’re practically dying for all I know - I mean, that’s what it seems like anyways. Get inside. I’m taking care of you today.”

And the thought hadn’t really processed in his mind until you babbled them out, but you can’t very well just take them back now, so you stand with the decision, but add on a feeble, “That is… if you’re okay with that?”

Josh nods - not reluctantly, but nonetheless, he’s also obviously trying to bite back a grin, and well, that’s all the confirmation you really need, so you follow him inside.  

You walk behind Josh into the living room and notice the heap of blankets where Josh had probably been lying only minutes before.  He plops down on the couch again and curls up, looking like he’s about to fall asleep at

And only after one last sigh, a soft smile sent in your general direction, and a murmured “thank you,” Josh dozes off.  

You make sure to call work, putting on your best sick voice before settling in.

“arg, Y/N?”

You spin around in surprise and spot Josh leaning against the door frame with sleepy eyes, mussed up hair, and a slightly less, but still very red, nose.

"Shit, did I wake you? I didn’t mean to, damn it. I was trying so hard to not make any noise to wake you up and then the damn door slammed shut. God, I’m sorry, go back to sleep Josh, really, I’m sorry. So sor-”

“Shut up Y/N,” he cuts off with a smile, but then he steps a bit further into the kitchen and you watch the way he tugs at the blanket wrapped around his shoulders into a cocoon of sorts. "What’re you doing, Y/N?”

You smile softly.

"Remember how you said you can’t cook to save your life? Like so bad that I can’t even make Ramen noodles?”

“Of course, why do you think I accept your leftovers?”

You smile and nod, "right, yeah, of course. Well anyways, I’m making homemade soup…you’ve been asleep for like three hours and I was feeling rather creepy just sitting in your living room watching you sleep, so I went to the store and picked up some stuff…”

Suddenly, a pair of gangly arms are wrapped around you, trapping you in the blanket cocoon, and oh my god… oh my god oh my god oh my god… Josh is hugging you what the hell… oh my god Josh… hugging… me… hugging… oh my god. But you wrap your arms around Josh’s waist and pray he doesn’t actually have to let go.

He does.

"You’re amazing. Thank you.”

“You haven’t even tried the soup yet Josh.

"Shut up.”

For once, you totally agree.

“Yeah, okay.”

It’s nearly 8 at night, and you’re still with Josh in his flat.

After making soup, and then having Josh eat the soup (which he admitted to being amazing), Josh napped for a little while longer.

After waking up, you made him tea and gave him some crackers, but Josh ended up just falling asleep again.

After waking up again, you put in a movie, but Josh ended up falling asleep again less than halfway through.

After waking up again, Josh made you put in his favorite movie, and that’s where you left off. With Josh in the corner of the couch, very content and feeling much better and you, tucked into his side, resting your head against his chest and your hands against his thigh. The blankets are covering the two of you and you can’t really begin to fathom what has happened today, but you can’t quite complain since it lead you to this moment.

As the movie ends and the movie fades into the credits, Josh pulls you closer into his chest and mumbles something about how excellent that movie is no matter how many times he’s seen it.

“You’re such a sap Josh, that movie is so sappy. Are you always this sappy, or is it just your being sick?”

Josh laughs softly before snuggling in more.

“I’m always a sap, but I think you’re a sap too you know.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Josh just laughs and places his head on top of your, his nose pressing into the top of your head.  You aren’t a sap.

“I’m not complaining you know, I hope you know that I appreciated today. I quite like getting to spend this much time with you and seeing you somewhere that’s not… the elevator. I mean like, when else will I ever get to see your fuzzy socks? I don’t get to see enough of you, or spend as much time as I would like in a two minute elevator ride. I, um, actually, well, I was thinking that, uh, maybe we could do something like this again… or maybe, like, more often? If you want. I mean, I would, um, I would like to.”

Your face breaks out into an enormous grin, ”I quite enjoyed today too,“ you mumble and lean into Josh with a smile so radiant you could probably see it from space, "and I would love to do something like this more often. I would like it too. Maybe with you less sick though? I can’t very well kiss you without risking getting the plague. I can’t even believe I risked an entire day camped out in your apartment while you’re like this.”

Josh sits up and turns to you with a smile just as radiant as your own, and murmurs, “Kiss?”

You smirks and press a soft kiss to Josh’s cheek before nodding and, in a voice mocking Josh’s, you sigh, “Shut up, Josh.”

13; badboy!yoongi

reassurance (13)
p: when one stops the kiss to whisper: “i’m sorry, are you sure you-” and they answer by kissing them more

you still remember the first time yoongi kissed you.

it was raining… was it? uh… ah, yes. it was raining. the pitter pattering from the window pane is what accommodates to the sound of your heart beating into the silence within the four walls as you laze around in bed. the sounds mix together into tranquility as you sigh, but the abrupt knocks cracks through everything and jolts you to your feet.

you’re cautious, an umbrella (hey, it was the closest thing to the door) in your hands and you have to juggle it with one so you can open the barrier with your other to reveal - “y-yoongi?”

he’s breathless, trying to catch it with harsh inhales of air with his hand against the wall beside your door. he’s drenched and you just let it seep into your conscious that right, it’s raining - oh my god it’s raining and - “c-can i come in?”

dropping the umbrella, because you don’t know what else to do, you’re retrieving your keys to undo the locks. once nothing comes between the pair of you, yoongi steps through and it seems like everything yoongi does makes you drop things because your keys meet the tiles at his cold hands cupping your cheeks, his quivering lips pressed to your own in a frenzy to find warmth, solace, an answer, maybe.

you barely have time to digest what’s happening, let alone kiss him back when he pulls away sharply after realizing what he’s doing. he licks his lips nervously, lungs suck in being lungs when he can barely breathe right but he’s trying to speak. guess who doesn’t let him, though?

this time yoongi grows wide eyed at the way your warm hands press to his skin, framing the sides of his head before you pull him back down so you can kiss him. he gasps but recovers quick, groaning into your mouth when you nip on his bottom lip that he naturally parts his lips for a slow dance for two, melted into one, sealed by the mouth.

yoongi breaks from you again when he comes to another realization, only managing to get half of his sentence out in a stutter: “i-i’m sorry, are you sure you-” yoongi gets a clearer picture when you hook an arm around his shoulders, the other grabbing him by the cheek to kiss him again. this time, his nerves relax and he gives in to the way your lips move against his own, warming him up, setting his nerves on fire and his heart ablaze when you leave no room for him to pull away.

until you do, that is.

he sees how now you’re wet, the effects of holding him close and him obliging with arms strapped to your waist as you look at him with pursed, red lips. he tries not to comment on it, focused on how hard you’re breathing and how you look like you want to say something that he waits.

and waits… and waits… waiting…

“i waited for you all day yesterday and you didn’t show up. no text, no call and i had to find out from taehyung it’s because you got into trouble for beating some guy up-”

“he was the asshole who had nothing better to do than to steal your notes-!” you slap a hand over his mouth, “now you show up at my door at midnight, through the pouring rain, drenched and creating a damned pool of water in my home and the first thing you do is kiss me?”

he tests once more by leaning in to place a chaste kiss on your lips and how you let him is what makes him smile when he pulls back to see the anger being washed away in your eyes.

“you’re letting me, though,” he snickers when you refuse to look at him, and he sneaks in one more to put your eyes back on him. 

“you’re not gonna stop me?” he’s smiling widely

you gulp and pull your arms back, folding them childishly, “did i tell you to stop?”

he cocks a brow, “do you want me to?”

you stick your chin up, head tilted in an angle that yoongi really wants to call out on being too adorable to be mad, “what do you think?”

yoongi smirks and closes the door behind him, redoing the locks in place with your fallen keys. he slots the umbrella back where you got it from before he takes you in his arms, heading towards the bathroom where it’s easier to get you wet… without clothes. “i think, we need a shower.”

Imagine Jim Helping You Through A Bad Breakup (Part 2)

Originally posted by khantemplations

Prompt: Jim kirk and a reader whose ex dumped her and it was pretty harsh?

Warnings: A tiny bit of non-consent

Word Count: 989

Side Note: This is part 2/2 (Part 1)

The next morning you woke up entangled in someone and instinct tells you that it’s your boyfriend, so you kiss his cheek and snuggle into him.

“Well good morning to you too.” You hear Jim say as his body shakes from laughter, only for it to suddenly stop when he notices you aren’t laughing with him. As the realization had dawned on you that it wasn’t your ex in the bed with you, the memories of last night had flooded into your mind; and now you were doing everything in your power to keep the tears currently collecting in your eyes from spilling out.

“Hey,” Jim says softly as he pulls you closer into him, “It’s gonna be ok.” Despite your valiant efforts you bawl into his chest until you’re hiccuping on the remnants of a waterfall that was cascading down your cheeks, and once again soaking Jim in the process. Jim waits patiently until you’re done, spending the whole time absentmindedly running his hand up and down your back and whispering soothing words to you; and once you’ve calmed down he helps you sit up and then heads into the bathroom to fetch a washcloth and towel for you. He returns and sits down in front of you on the bed, giving you a sad smile before washing away the hot, sticky tears that are drying on your face.

“Are you gonna be ok if I leave to clean up and get fresh clothes?” Jim asks you, his eyes searching your puffy red ones for any more tears. You sniffle and nod you head.

“Ya, I’ll probably change and go get some breakfast.” You say. He nods and heads towards the door.

“Hey Jim?” He turns around, concern written all over his face.

“Ya?”

“Thank you for staying with me.” You say, offering him a smile.

“Like I said earlier, it’s how you deserve to be treated.” He says with a wink and he disappears out the door. You take a deep breath and get changed before putting on a brave face to go about your day. You make it through breakfast without an incident and report to the medbay for your shift; Bones sees you when you walk in and he wraps you into a hug without a word. After a second he lets you go and gives you a smile before returning to his work, and you head over to your desk to see what you have to do today.

Hours pass on and your shift finally ends, leaving you exhausted and hungry. You wander down to the mess hall and get a sandwich to take back to your room. As you are own your way out a hand wraps around your wrist and drags you into a corner with a large plant that blocks you from sight.

“Hey!” You start but a hand closes around your mouth.

“I know I said I never wanted to see you again, but how could I resist your perfect body?” Your ex whispers before forcefully smashing his mouth against yours. You struggle against him until he is suddenly ripped off you, and you step around the plant to see who your savior is. Standing before you is Jim and your ex glaring menacingly at each other.

“Leave. Her. Alone.” Jim says through gritted teeth.

“Aw does someone have a crush?” Your ex jeers. In way of answering Jim lands a right hook square on his jaw. Your ex falls to the ground and Jim kicks him over and signals security to come over.

“Lock him up in the brig, I don’t want him anywhere near other members of the crew.” The guards nod and pull your ex up from the floor while Jim heads over to you. “Are you ok?” He asks. You nod and look down at his hand.

“I am, but you’re not.” He had split the skin over his knuckles and it was starting to bleed.

“Come on Y/N, it’s nothing.” He protests but you grabbed his arm and drug him to the medbay to wrap it up. The two of you didn’t say anything as you worked, and when you finished the two of you just sat there looking at each other, trying to find something to say.

“Well?” You ask.

“Well what?” Jim looks at you confused.

“Do you have feelings for me?” You ask. You and Jim had known each other since the Academy, and you had had feelings for him before you met your ex; and even after you started dating the feelings never died. So when your ex had made the comment about Jim having a crush on you your heart had skipped a beat, and all those old feelings came roaring back.

“I.. um… well…” Jim looked embarrassed and he ran a hand through his hair as he tried to find the words. “I don’t want to push you into anything, Y/N. I mean, you were crying your heart out over him this morning.”

“Answer the question, Jim.” You say pointedly. Jim sighs and he gazes into your eyes.

“Yes.” He says, and a breath you didn’t know you were even holding came out. Jim hopped off the exam table and walked up to you. “Y/N…” He breathed, but before he could utter anything else you reached up and pulled his head down to you, and pressed your lips to his. Jim wrapped his arms around your waist and took control of the kiss, taking it from the light kiss you had given him to a slow, melting kind that made you weak in your knees. After several minutes of this the kiss returned to light pecks until you finally separated, although Jim kept his forehead pressed against yours.

“Can you stay with me again?” You ask. Jim smiles and gives you another light kiss.

“Of course.” He says before picking you up and carrying you away.

anonymous asked:

Stony, either 1 or 4? (Preferably a happy ending please????) <3

I went with 1. “If you had asked me to stay, I would’ve.” and I mean, I GUESS I can try for a happy ending…. ;) Or at least, a hopeful one. (watch out for the read more.)

—-

Tony drove off, leaving Steve behind, the new Avengers team behind, what he’d always thought would be his life behind, and he ached. He wanted to stay, to be part of that, be part of the team. Stay at Steve’s side. But he didn’t trust himself - and he didn’t think any of the others trusted him, either. He couldn’t ruin what they were all trying to do with… him.

~*~*~

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

70 if it hasn't been said already? And I love your writing so much! Thanks for doing this! ♡♡

#141 <3

“What are you afraid of?”

“Literally a hundred things,” Clint said, with an awkward laugh. “I can go alphabetically, if you’d like? Aardvarks have always kinda freaked me out.” 

“How much’ve aardvarks got to do with your dating history?”

“Not… a whole bunch.”

“Then let’s skip the aardvarks,” Bucky said, and his slow smile was melting Clint like butter. “Maybe stay focused?”

“Okay. Alphabetically.” Clint considered for a second or two. 

“Commitment,” he said. “Divorce.” 

“Alphabetically?” Bucky asked, then at Clint’s nod, “so… not cheating, then?” 

“Never intentionally,” Clint said, and at Bucky’s admittedly kinda incredulous look, “I’m a little dumb. Um. And I can barely cope with one human being, so more than one is like -”

He mimed juggling and, eloquently, fumbling balls, which was bullshit entirely ‘cos Clint’d never fumbled juggling in his life. But he was pretty sure he got his point across. 

“Okay,” Bucky said, and he was amused, and Clint felt like he was top of the world any time he could make Bucky sound amused like that, and not only was he getting in deeper but he’d decided entirely not even to swim. “So, divorce…?”

“Domestics,” Clint said, and Bucky knew enough not to ask. “Exes. Ex-wives.” 

“Multiple?” 

“Nah. But I deeply fear acquiring more.” 

“Fair,” Bucky said. 

“Kids (unexpected),” Clint mimed the brackets, too, and Bucky actually snorted out loud this time, and his helpless hopeless smile was the best of his facial expressions, except for his secret smile, and his frown, and his scowl, and… “Um. Kisses,” he continued. “Lawyers.” 

(”Dating history?” Bucky reminded, and Clint shuddered. “So much to do with it,” he said. “So much more than you could ever guess.”)

“Love?” Bucky asked. And he’d scooted in while Clint was distracted by the alphabet, and his hand came up to gently cup Clint’s jaw. His thumb brushed across Clint’s lower lip and Clint nodded dumbly, so close he was looking from one of Bucky’s eyes to the other, like they always seemed to do in films. 

“So maybe we won’t start there,” Bucky said, his breath warming Clint’s mouth. “Immersion therapy, right? Gotta start small.” 

“Yeah,” Clint said, “good ide-”