she was sitting right in front of me

Someone throw out your theory about what is happening, please?

I have been spotted in my workplace when I am not there. Once, about 13 years ago, I actually saw MYSELF walk across a common area of my work place. I thought I was going bonkers but my co-worker saw the other me walk across the common area too and started speaking to the other me as she turned around to walk around the desk. She literally bumped into me and was  so frightened and surprised to see the real me standing behind her she had a panic attack. She saw the other me too! Neither one of us could explain it but we both described what the other me was wearing (which was what I was wearing that day). I made sure to never wear that tank top again. We decided to never speak of it again. BUT THEN….

Earlier this week a client was shuffling through some papers at my desk and was shocked to look up and find me sitting right in front of her. She got completely freaked out and was adamant that she saw me across the common area (the same place as last time other me was spotted). She won’t be around me now and she’s told the other clients there’s something wrong with me. 

A couple of years ago another client experienced the same thing but just accused me of being a mutant a la X-Men and laughed it off. She was with several other clients who were very uneasy about it until she laughed it off. They saw the same thing but luckily were easy enough to persuade. 

So what is going on? I’m not doing it on purpose. Any ideas? Explanations? Ideas? I’ve heard the doppelgänger theory but since the first time was over 13 years ago, I doubt it’s a death omen. Has anyone ever had a problem with splitting before? 

Please reblog if you think someone might have any ideas. This starting to freak people out and I don’t want to scare anyone. 

Went and saw Beauty and the Beast, and I just had to share my experience because it was so pure?

So, like, I get into the theater, find myself a nice spot smack dab midscreen, which is WAY EASIER without thirty people traipsing in behind you in a group, lemme tell you, and I’m just sitting there, by my lonesome, scrolling tumblr and watching whatever weird stuff they’ve got on screen, and a family comes to sit in my row, which was the only empty one not right in front of the screen. Sat down what I thought was a seat away from me until I saw a little girl in an adorable ass red dress climbing over mom and dad to sit next to me. 

Totally fine. I was just off of center and they got to sit right in the middle of the screen, and when she finally gets settled this little girl looks up at me, with a soda half her size in one hand, and somehow both popcorn and candy in her tiny little lap, and she stage whispers to her mom:

“She’s by herself!”

Mom looks embarrassed, but I smile and wave off the apology. 

I go back to my phone, only to realize someone is tugging at my sleeve. Little girl looks up at me, all wide eyes and curiosity, and holds out a napkin filled with popcorn and chocolate. Like, I remember being a kid, and I remember how important candy and popcorn at the theater are, and I think she thought she was saving my life by offering this sustenance.

I almost fucking cried guys, kids are the best.

So I take it and thank her and let her talk my ear off for a few minutes until she needs a drink because she has been talking SO MUCH her mouth is dry. This kid is going places, guys, I’m telling you right now, because she picked up that cup the size of her torso like a champ and angled the straw just right and continued to try to talk to me around her gulps.

While this is happening, on the other side of me another mom and daughter sat down, and, turns out, the girls know each other. I’m guessing, based on the gumption of Red Dress, that they probably met in the lobby before they went into the theater. 

Girl number 2, I’ll call her Princess Dress, because it was a fantastic dress and when I told her so she proceeded to point to every princess along the neck and name them and give me their Stats, proceeds to have a conversation across me with Red Dress.

Both sets of parents were looking like they wanted to bury their heads in their hands, but I was having a blast.

Anyway, eventually lights go down, we get into the movie, and for the most part Red and Princess were content, although every so often Red made sure to pass me a handful of sticky half-melted chocolate. 

Watching a live action version of a movie that I watched for the first time when I was their age was a fuckin’ trip, man. Like. I got super emotional over things I didn’t expect to, and during the wolf scenes I was actually mildly distressed, because Princess was gripping the hand rest so hard on my right I thought she was gonna break it. Any scene I laughed or snorted at got a peal of laughter from my two new best friends, so hopefully no one has to go home and explain why I nearly snorted out my drink during “Be Our Guest” when they went for a visual gag for “After all miss, this is France!”.

During the ballroom scene, Red turned to her mom and whispered “The Beast is handsome!” and it took so much for me not to lean over and whisper back “Girl same.”

But my favorite, MY VERY FAVORITE part of this whole experience was when Gaston shot the Beast - FOR THE THIRD TIME HOLY HELL I KNEW IT WAS DARK BUT GODDAMN THIS IS A KIDS MOVIE ISN’T IT - Red patted my arm because yeah, okay, I was maybe crying a little, look, I know what happens but the movie made me feel things okay. Anyway, she like, pushes herself up in her seat and leans in close and she goes “It’s okay. He’s gonna be okay.”

The point is, children are so pure, and everyone should always watch movies with strangers.

Basically what happened in The Trial
  • <p> <b>Blue Diamond:</b> So. Who broke her?<p/><b>Everyone:</b> ...<p/><b>Blue Diamond:</b> I'm not mad. I just wanna know.<p/><b>Steven:</b> I did. I broke-<p/><b>Blue Diamond:</b> No. No, you didn't. Yellow?<p/><b>Yellow Diamond:</b> Don't look at me. Look at this Ruby.<p/><b>Eyeball:</b> What? I didn't break her.<p/><b>Yellow Diamond:</b> Funny. How'd you even know she was broken?<p/><b>Eyeball:</b> Because she was sitting right in front of me and she was broken.<p/><b>Yellow Diamond:</b> ...Suspicious.<p/><b>Eyeball:</b> No, it's not.<p/><b>Zircon:</b> I-if I may, the traitorous Pearl was Pink's Pearl...<p/><b>Yellow Pearl:</b> What are you talking about? She wasn't even under her authority!<p/><b>Zircon:</b> Oh, really? Then why is all of her things associated with pink?<p/><b>Yellow Pearl:</b> Because she was gay for Rose Quartz, everyone knows that, ZIRCON.<p/><b>Steven:</b> All right, let's stop fighting, I broke her, let me be executed, Blue Diamond.<p/><b>Blue Diamond:</b> No! Who broke her?<p/><b>Everyone:</b> ...<p/><b>Blue Pearl:</b> My Diamond... White Diamond has been awfully quiet recently.<p/><b>White Diamond:</b> REALLY?!<p/><b>Everyone:</b> [loud incoherent arguing]<p/><b>Lars:</b> ????<p/><b>BD [while no one is listening]:</b> I broke her. She wanted to save the Earth so I shattered her. I predict everyone will be at each other's throats in five minutes. Good. It was getting a little chummy around here.<p/></p>
Tipsy - Request

Requested by anon: I would like to request a Sherlock x reader where he has been drugged and how he’s really cute and a little dirty towards her in front of John. Haha like while “high”. Just super fluffy and cute and maybe a little smutty/implied smut/ a little dirty haha. I get if you’re too busy or don’t feel like writing it, no problem. Love you.
& anon: I have a request for you (if youre still taking..?) so sherlock and john gets drunk and sherlock starts hitting on (and gets kissy and touchy) on reader which has been her girlfriend for months xD ?

Pairing: Sherlock x reader.

Word count: 2,026

Warnings: Just like in “The sign of three” this things gives a lot of twists.

A/N: Drunk Sherlock and Watson are my fave, I loved this so much!

Enjoy!

Sherlock and John weren’t the kind of men to get drunk every week, however and because of the stress they had been put through in their last case, they decided to go to the bar together.

At first it was just beer and talking and complaining, but then, someone recognized Sherlock and decided to put a little something on his beer which, added up to what he had already drunk, ended up turning him into a dizzy, slurry mess.

John was drunk as well, but for a different reason: he had mixed tequila with beer.

They walked – stumbled – their way back to Baker Street. It wasn’t even ten o’clock when that happened, so both (Y/N) and Mrs. Hudson were up and sharing a cup of tea while the boys came back, doing all kinds of strange noises as they walked in that called both women’s attention.

“What are you two doing here?” Mrs. Hudson asked as she and (Y/N) walked out to the stair case where John and Sherlock were laying. (Y/N) couldn’t help but to laugh at the image and the sound of her laughter caught Sherlock’s attention.

“(Y/N)!” He cheered drunkenly, “AREN’T YOU THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BEING ON EARTH?”

“Wow, someone’s loud tonight.” She joked and Sherlock walked to her and held her tightly against his chest.

“You are sooooo beautiful!” He slurred, “And so hot, would you be my girlfriend?”

“I am already your girlfriend, Sherlock.” (Y/N) spoke clamly, unable to contain the giggle that left her lips.

“I’m such a lucky man I’m jealous of myself …” Sherlock cupped her face and started kissing her passionately, like never before. (Y/N) tried to pull away but Sherlock’s grip was tight and it wasn’t until he needed air that he let go off her.

“You’re so drunk!” She giggled.

“And you’re stunning.” Sherlock mumbled, “Delightful, splendid, a Greek muse right in front of me! DATING ME!”

“Sherlock Holmes is a poet when he’s drunk, what are the chances!” Watson spoke from behind, right before he bursted in a dry laughter. Mrs. Hudson laughed with him and then both women dragged them upstairs.

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poedamerom  asked:

"I work as a florist and every day you walk in , buy one flower and give it to me" AU because yesterday I realised you were one of my favorite stucky writers!

Steve meets Bucky Barnes on Valentine’s Day, because God has a particularly cruel sense of humor.

— —

“You’re charging /how much/ for roses?” the man — later revealed as Bucky Barnes — asks.

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Steve says as an explanation, then sighs as he rings the man up on the cash register. “Don’t worry, your sweetheart will like them anyway.”

The man snorts.

“What?” Steve asks.

“Not for my sweetheart, for my sister. She’s in high school, and this asshole guy’d been leading her on for months, and all we could do was watch while she pined after this little fuck. Meanwhile, this guy’s having her edit his essays, drive him places… You know, the shit that asshole high school guys do when they’re going on a power trip. Anyhow, yesterday he asks out this girl right in front of my sister, asks her if she’s happy for him, which of course she’s not. She gets home, my mom calls me, and we hang out and watch rom coms together, and that’s when we come up with the plan.”

“The plan?” Steve asks, leaning in a little closer.

The guy smiles, almost sheepishly. “Her math teacher is a friend of mine from undergrad, so I call him up. These flowers, a few cards, and a big ol’ box of chocolates are gonna be on her desk.”

“Lemme guess, the asshole sits next to her?”

He grins. “Indeed, he does.”

“She’s in on it, right?”

He nods. “‘Course, it’d be weird if she wasn’t. She’s gonna tell everyone that they’re from her overnight camp boyfriend or something, who has been begging to get back together with her. I dunno, she’s got the whole thing set up, but she promises me that it’s gonna make this jack ass jealous, and that’s the important thing.”

Steve laughs. “Yeah, it is,” he says. “Bet your girlfriend is jealous, too,” Steve asks, and okay. He’s fishing a bit.

The guy raises an eyebrow. “Actually, I’m single right now,” he says. “I’ve got all these grand romantic gestures stored up with no outlet. It’s a real problem.”

“What a problem to have,” Steve says. “I don’t think I’ve ever gotten flowers on Valentine’s Day, in any context. And that’ll be $42.88.”

“Ouch,” the guy says as he inserts his debit card into the chip reader. “I’m Bucky, by the way.”

“Steve,” Steve says, then adds, “but you probably could’ve gathered that from the name tag.”

Bucky chuckles. “Thanks Steve,” he says as he takes his card out and puts it in his wallet.

“No problem,” Steve says, handing the flowers over to Bucky. “And good luck with your grand gesture.”

“Thanks,” he says, taking the flowers. He pauses, and pulls a rose out of the bunch. “Here,” he says, handing it to Steve.

“What?” Steve asks.

Bucky moves it a little closer to Steve. “A flower. Happy Valentine’s Day, Steve.”

“Oh, uh…” Steve says, taking it. “Thanks,” he says, a little lost for words.

“You’re welcome,” Bucky says. “Though it’s not quite a grand romantic gesture.”

Steve shrugs, trying not to blush. “It’s sweet,” he says.

Bucky just smiles and leaves the store.

— —

He comes back in the next day. “One tulip,” he says, bringing a yellow tulip up to the counter.

“Sure thing,” Steve says, then asks, “How’d the gesture go?”

“Perfectly,” Bucky says. “By the end of the day, he was telling her that he regretted everything, and she was telling him that she’s too good for him.”

Steve can’t help but smile. “Good to know, and that’s $4.21.”

Bucky pays with his debit card. “Yeah, gotta focus my energies elsewhere now,” he says.

“Good luck with that,” Steve says, handing him the flower.

“Thanks,” Bucky says, then hands the tulip back to Steve. “Enjoy the flower!” he says, before leaving the store.

Steve stands there, eyebrows furrowed, looking at the flower in his hand. “What?” he mutters to himself.

— —

It keeps happening.

Bucky comes in, he buys a flower — a different one every day — and hands it to Steve. If he doesn’t come in, he orders one online with the direction “give to Steve, please.”

“This is ridiculous,” Steve says after a month.

“I’m supporting a local, independently-run business,” Bucky responds as he hands Steve an amaryllis. “It’s the right thing to do.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve amends, but he takes the flower anyway.

— —

He’s started keeping them in his apartment as a mismatched, ever-changing arrangement. When a flower starts to wilt, he presses one of the petals and keeps it in a little book.

He sort of loves it.

He also sort of loves Bucky, but that’s a different story.

— —

They get to know each other, even though they just talk for a few minutes a day. Bucky is an architect who lives a few blocks away and passes by the flower shop on the way to work. He spends a lot of time with his mom and his sister (his dad isn’t in the picture), and he likes cheesy movies but not cheese — he’s lactose intolerant.

“We have that in common,” Steve says.

“Then it’s a good thing that I’m giving you flowers and not chocolates,” Bucky says as he hands him a peony.

Steve takes it and gives it a sniff. He really does like the smell of peonies. “What’s your endgame here?” Steve asks. “It’s been four months.”

Bucky shrugs, smiling. “Dunno,” he says. “I honestly don’t. I just wanted you to have fun.” He pauses and shoves his hands in his pockets. “If it gets annoying—“

“It’s not,” Steve says, too quickly. “It’s not annoying,” he says.

Bucky looks up, smiling. “Alright then,” he says.

“See you tomorrow?” Steve asks.

Bucky nods. “See you tomorrow.”

— —

When Bucky walks into the shop on Valentine’s Day, his face lights up.

“Steve?” he asks, looking at the flower arrangement in the middle of the shop and the accompanying valentine, made from the dried petals of 365 flowers.

“I thought you could use a gesture,” Steve says. “And a date for tonight?” he adds on, hopeful.

“Are these…?” Bucky asks.

“The flowers, I saved a petal from each one.”

“Oh my God,” Bucky says, looking down and biting his bottom lip. “I’m gonna have to step up my game if we’re gonna start going out,” he says.

“So that’s a yes?” Steve asks.

Bucky nods. “Yeah,” he says. “That’s a yes.”

Don't be so stupid

Could you do a rough kinky Jerome smut?

——

I straighten the covers and place the money in my safe box under the bed. Another night of work. I laugh at my own statement. Ha! Work! All you do is take rejected men’s money for a wild time.

I haven’t been doing this long. Only a couple months, but I’ve made more money than you can believe!

I know how people look at me. I see the stares of shame. How some women cross the street trying to get as far away from me as possible like they might catch something.

They wouldn’t. I don’t let any man go there. Only one man has ever taken me there. Only one man I will ever let go beyond the methods I use on other men. No one has touched me since the day he was murdered.

As I scrub the filth away from my body I think back to how Jerome took me. He had different ways of making me feel head over heels. Some nights he would take me hard and rough where the bed would get close to breaking, than other nights when he was feeling love sick he would worship me. He would thrust passionately kissing my body and telling me how beautiful I am.

I step out of the shower leaving the painful memories behind. I wrap a towel around my body and go down to the kitchen to make a drink. I get out the ingredients for a rock hard drink but then a knock on the door interrupts me.

I sigh and open it to see a man with cash in hand. He raises his brow and pushes past me. Is this really my life? He throws the money at me and sits on the sofa.

I walk over to him and set the cash on the hood in his trousers. “It’s late.” I say and make my way to the door to open it for him. He laughs and throws the cash at me with force. “Suck it whore.” This man was clearly drunk and out of his mind to think he can talk to me like that.

Though financial worries enter my brain. I need the money. I need it to get away from here. I sigh and rest on my knees giving the man what he paid for.

Once done I stand up quickly and feel like I should rinse my mouth out with bleach. Just then another knock rings out. A loud one. One of demand.

I move to open the door. “I can see why you’re so popular dollface.” I grasp the handle hard and turn to him with a displeased expression. “Don’t-” “CALL HER THAT!” A screaming voice beats me to it. I know that voice.

I open the door thinking I’m crazy. I’m hearing voices again. I swing open the door to see him. “J-Jer-” he places his finger against my lips and strides into the room seeing the man. He turns to me with fire in his eyes. “Did he touch you?” I shake my head gripping my towel closer to my body scared.

Jerome comes closer and I take in his appearance. Staples? I have to say it’s not his worst look.

The man on the couch scoffs. “No. She never lets anyone get in there. To stubborn. I’ve got to say she makes up for it man. Come here and sit. She does magic.” Jerome laughs. “Oh I know. She’ll ride me like a good girl any day.” The man once again scoffs. “Ha sure! She’s not gonna let some random person in there!” The man laughs.

Jerome turns to him with a smirk. “Oh I’m not a stranger. I was her first isn’t that right darling?” He asks lifting my chin up. “Well go on baby girl. Tell him how I’m the only one who’s ever touched your pussy.” Jerome moves me in front of the man and grips my hips. “He’s the only man to ever touch my pussy.” I say feeling Jerome move his hand beyond the towel and run his fingers over the skin of my hip. I shiver under his touch missing him exceedingly.

The man on the couch slaps his knee with a jealous expression. “Oh man! Lucky you! You’re okay with her doing this though? That’s what I call a working relationship!” Jerome’s hand goes further and slips between my wet folds. He circles my clit with pressure making my body lean into his. Jerome laughs and removes his hand. Instead he lifts up the back of the towel and grips my ass. “Actually no. You see I’ve been gone for a while. This is news to me. I find this…humiliating, and revolting.” Jerome then fiddled with his own trousers and releases himself. I feel him from behind as he starts to rub his head across my wet folds. The man on the couch just stares as if he’s in heaven.

Jerome laughs. “My my my doll. You really haven’t let anyone touch you. So tight I can even thrust into you, but as for you…enjoying the snow?” Jerome thrusts hard entering me. Filling me up like he use to. I arch back into him wanting more. Needing more. The man on the couch looks at me and nods his head.

Jerome laughs and pulls out a gun. He places the barrel to my head as he continues to thrust into me pulling my hair back. “Should I shoot you? Hm? Do you deserve to live knowing the things you’ve done? You dirty whore. Who do you belong to?” “You. You Jerome!” I moan out enjoying the blissful pleasure he’s bestowing upon me. “That’s right doll! I want you to do so for me okay?” Jerome whispers in my ear. “Shoot him.” Jerome says placing the gun in my hand.

I aim the barrel at him and pull the trigger with a rush enveloping me. The mans blood splatters on the wall and he falls completely limp. Jerome growls and rips the towel away turning me around. “You’re in so much trouble.” He says and pushes me against the wall hiking me up and thrusting into me hard and fast. I place my arms around him moaning his name over and over again. “Say it again doll. Scream it.” He says and moves his hand to rub my clit. I toss my head back against the wall in pure pleasure. “Jerome!” I moan out.

He moves to sit on the couch next to the dead man still spilling blood. “What do you say princess? You wanna ride me?” I nod eagerly and place myself above him cock and sliding down on him. Jerome grips my hips as I bouch on his cock making us both feel pleasures we haven’t had for a year.

Jerome rubs his fingers against the blood on the man’s wound and covers his hand in the thick red liquid. He proceeds to trail his hand down my body making a line from my breast, to my stomach, and right above my crotch. “Ah you’re such a good girl. You’re going to cum aren’t you? Go on doll. Cum for me.” I do as he says and release on him and seconds he fills me up with his own cum.

Jerome moves my hair out of the way and kisses me. “You’re mine. Don’t be so stupid to think otherwise. No other man looks at you. Ever! Understood?” He caresses my cheek with a smile. “Yes J.” He laughs and picks me up. “Then why don’t we make up for lost time? Sound good?” I smile and kiss his nose. “Sounds perfect.”

Originally posted by bonelotus

Surprise!

Summary: The reader wakes up to surprising news about her and Jensen.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

A/N: I got a random idea so here’s a random drabble.


“Y/N L/N! Get your ass up!”

A high pitched shrill invades your dream world as incessant curse words begin littering the air. A blinding light appears and it makes you bury your head under the warm covers.

You’re still able to hear muffled growling noises and they become clearer once your sheets are abruptly yanked off. It’s safe to say that an impressive death stare overtakes your entire face.

“Y/N!” Your best friend Steph huffs. “Don’t make me chuck water onto your head!”

“What the fuck.” You moan lowly, snatching your pillow away when she tries to steal it from you. “You psychopath.“ 

"I’m so mad at you right now. How come you didn’t tell me, woman?!” Her bratty behavior continues when her high heeled boot stomps into your hardwood floor.

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Under the Table Favours

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: SMUT!!! PUBLIC SEXUAL ACTS!!!

Originally posted by sensualkisses

Hogsmeade was quiet this afternoon, an ideal spot to squeeze in a bit of study with your best friend. You had secured a booth in the back of The Three Broomsticks, where you knew no one would bother you. Remus gave you a light smile as he placed down the two large mugs of hot cocoa, overflowing with already-melting marshmallows.

“Look who’s here.” You pointed out Sirius and James as they shared some Butterbeer together by the window. You took a long sip from the delicious drink as you watched Remus wave to his friends, you doing the same.

Remus turned back to face you, his smile widening as he let out an amused chortle.

“What?” You frowned. “Something on my face?” You wiped around your mouth, just barely missing the marshmallow fluff that had stuck to your upper lip.

“Here.” Remus said, easily snatching up the contents with his thumb. He held it out for you, and watched as you put your mouth over his finger. Remus’ heart began to hammer in his chest at the sight; your lips perfectly puckered around his thumb, humming contently as you sucked the morsel from his skin. His breath hitched as your eyes fluttered back open, leaving him with your sweet smile and a wettened thumb.

“Thanks.” You grinned innocently, lifting your mug back up to your lips. You quickly finished the warm beverage, already standing to get another. “I’ll be back.”

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Soulmates (AU) Part 2

Pairing: Harry and Y/N

Word Count: 2677

Prompt (AU) : Harry took his anger out in sex-and you weren’t supposed to do that. He would go to the bar and find others just as terrible and lonely as him, drink, and then sink his sorrows into anything with breast and a hole were to put it. Niall always rolled his eyes the next morning and say to Harry “you’re a proper dick, yeh know that right?”, to which Harry would lift his middle finger up and respond with, “if soulmates are real she would love me anyhow.”

“Harry when you meet her your life will change,” Anne says, handing him a cup of tea.

Harry rolls his eyes, “I don’t care to meet her. It’s all bullshit,” Harry grumbles.

Part One


There were very few things that bugged Y/N in life. Y/N hated when people didn’t use their turn signals when driving, or when people walked too slow in front of her, or when people rolled their eyes or stared at her, but she absolutely loathed when people wouldn’t respect her choice and try and force her to talk. It was clear, crystal clear, that she wasn’t much of a talker, and yes or no questions where the good route to go, but when people edged her on she got upset.

For example, Harry just couldn’t wrap his mind around how his other half would not utter a single word to him. Y/N had written down on a whiteboard that she was ‘mute’ and would really prefer if Harry stayed away from the label. She explained that even though he was her soulmate (and she would love to be open with him) talking just didn’t seem like something she was ready for.

She watched as Harry rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, and frowned. She could feel his annoyance (literally) and she wanted to stub her toe on the table just to tick him off, but she felt like it was rude and she didn’t want to put herself through the pain as well.

“So like what? I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with someone who won’t talk to me?” Harry asked, his eyes on her as she walks down the hallway of her apartment complex.

Y/N shrugs, ‘learn asl,’ she signs.

“The fuck does that mean?” Harry spat.

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Lessons Learned [Negan x Reader]

I am dying for some Negan smut. your rick smuts are so smutty and just (swoon) filthy… I really wanna see a smut where he gets mad at you (idc what for) and teaches you a lesson bc lets be real.. we all need a spanking from that man. basically just porn, I trust you’ll know what to do with that!

How about a request for a one shot where the female reader lives in the sanctuary fluff or smut ensues.

Kind of combined these two requests, hope you all enjoy! This is for my favorite person on tumblr @zaddygrimes! I hope you love this filthy Negan smut! 💖

Words: 1,935

Warnings: Smut, Swearing, Spanking, Dirty Talk

A/N: I’m back! Sorry I’ve been so MIA lately, but this is my VERY FIRST Negan fic and I’m so excited/nervous to share it with you and I hope it’s not horrible! Also that gif, omg I couldn’t resist!

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Jimin asks you to be his fake girlfriend pt.2

[pt.1] [pt.2] [pt.3END]

Originally posted by chimcheroo

After he had picked me up from my home, we drove to our favourite cafe and took our favourite spot near the back of the building. He told me I looked pretty today, something he would always tell me, but today it felt different. As if he poured his heart and soul into telling me those four words. I excused myself to use the restroom shortly after arriving and as I returned I noticed from afar, the way he smiled staring at his phone. Did I want to go through with this plan of his, just to hear the words he said he was going to tell me today? They say curiosity kills the cat, and here I am standing here waiting to pretend to be my best friend’s fake girlfriend. I didn’t mind so much, on the pure fact that Jimin’s ex wasn’t the nicest - but still he fell for her over and over again and gave her one too many chances, only to have her break his heart all over again. But this time, at least he’s taking the initiative and taking control of the situation this time and not letting her back in to ruin his life. 

But what was it, what was so intriguing about the way he dodged my question to get me to agree and act as if I wanted to kiss him willingly? Don’t get me wrong, Jimin has always been an amazing guy; he’s my best friend and there had been multiple occasions where I’ve wanted to grab his cheeks and kiss him, and when we were younger we had kissed before, but as time passed and the whole ordeal with his ex girlfriend, those feelings seem to have faded. Every time I told him that she was no good, he would cry and tell me that she made a mistake again, and that he feels bad because she’s crying over him. So he would take her back. What made him change his mind this time? Not that it’s not a good thing of course, but there must be a strong desire from him to make him not care about that crying bitch. 

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Dusk to Dawn | 1 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader 

genre: soulmate!AU angst, fluff, smut

warnings: swearing, smut, use of alcohol, smoking, lowkey going to be heartbreaking

word count: 11.6K

summary: You meet Jungkook in psychology class who acts like he has it all figured out, however as you two get closer you realize you are more alike than you two originally thought. Unfortunately for the two of you, fate has another plan in mind which will test yours and Jungkook’s relationship in more ways than one. 

part 1 of 2 

Originally posted by jeonyween


Fall Semester 

August 

The first day of the new fall semester has been nothing less of eventful. Not only did you sleep past your alarm by more than thirty minutes, not only did you not get a cup of coffee in you this morning, not only did you realize that you had forgotten your psychology textbook back at your apartment until you got to class, and not only were you ten minutes late to class, you somehow were able to calm yourself down enough to where you did not cause a commotion once you entered the lecture hall.

Once you sat down, places towards the back mainly open, you opened your laptop trying to blend in with everyone like you had not just missed the first ten minutes of class. You focused in on what your professor was saying, trying to ignore the fact that you had also forgotten to brush your teeth as well.

“In my class, we will learn about all sorts of things,” the professor states, “From children, to sociopaths, the human mind, to medicine, to love… and sex,” he pauses for a moment, a smirk on his face, “and yes, we will be talking about soulmates, too for those wondering, although many of you may already know where I’m at with this,” he continues.

Your face suddenly drops. Soulmate. You have heard the term all of your life and as you have gotten older, the more you try to ignore it.

Your older sister soulmate’s name carved into her left wrist at the tender age of fourteen and found the guy when she was seventeen. Your best friend soulmate’s named etched its name onto his left wrist when he was eighteen. The special thing about your soulmate’s mark, is that their name is written in their handwriting. A sacred thing that you have yet to experience. Everyone you knew, had received a name by the time they were eighteen… except you.

You were now 21, going on 22 and a name still has yet to be marked on you. You’ve heard stories of people never finding their soulmate and dying alone and depressed. Not only that, but you have also heard of the physical pain that comes along when never finding a soulmate.

Thankfully you have never experienced any physical pain yet, which gives you hope that the name is still yet to come.

“Excuse me,” a voice, a whisper, knocks you out of your thoughts. You glance over to see a boy with light brown hair and big doe brown eyes staring at you. “I think you dropped this,” there in front of you, the mysterious boy holds up a pencil that must have slipped out of your hand while you were in thought.

“Oh, thanks,” you say in a whisper, snatching it back from the boy giving him one last look before turning your attention back on the professor.

You internally groan to yourself and you can tell this is already going to be a long year.

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No One’s Roasted Like Gaston.[Oneshot].

no one writes FANFICS LIKE EMILEE.

Originally posted by luuuuuke-evans

Title: No One’s Roasted Like Gaston.
Pairing: Implied!- Gaston x Reader.
Rating: T.
Words: 2,231.
Summary: Gaston thought he was undeniable to women and even some men. Has he finally found his match?


There was nothing particularly notable about the early mornings, at least, not anymore. The sky above was it usual mixture of pinks, purples and some lighter hues of blue as the sun rose and lit up the clouds, giving them a rather unique looking glow. There was a small wind, but not chilling, and brought in the lingering scent of meadows and trees. You got used to those aspects and they slowly became the norm. You began to not notice them at all, and remarked them as being every day life. If one wanted to really shake things up in a morning routine, they would count the cobblestones that made up each walkway in the village. But, that’s the thing. No one ever wanted to shake things up. They wanted things to stay the same for that is the way they had been living for as long as anyone could remember. With change came the unprecedented fear that something terrible would happen as a result.

It was the hustle and bustle of such a small village did leave one breathless and forgetful on occasion if you didn’t pay attention to where you were going and why you were going there in the first place. If one was aimlessly walking in the morning time while the sun peaked into the valley, one might be trampled by those selling goods and merchandise. Some too expensive, and some not expensive enough and left you wondering whether you had been scammed or if you had gotten a good deal.

Aimless and mindless were surely your vibe this beautiful morning. You had nowhere to be, nothing to do or see and so you actually took your time to walk through the village during one of the busiest times of day. There was a variant of smells, some of which you happened to thoroughly enjoy. Fresh bread, springtime air, a small caddy on the corner before the village square that was selling freshly picked roses. Contrary to the flowers smelling divine, the actual vibrancy of the colors caught your attention and dwindled you to stay and admire them for longer than you had intended . Vivid reds, pastel pinks, yellow whites. It looked as if these flowers belonged immortalized in a painting for the entire world to enjoy.

Smiling at the vendor who was a few feet to your right, you plucked a light, dusty pink rose out of one of the buckets full of water. It dripped down your fingers onto your wrist causing a small shudder to shoot down your arm. Miraculously, it looked as if a skilled painter had dipped their brush in the sky during dusk, mustered up enough color to splotch onto the petals of the flower. Some parts were darker than others, but all around, it was a very delicate and soft appearing flower.

“Beautiful.” You could hear someone behind you say. And without the need to turn around and see the speaker, you were already well aware of who it was. Probably looking at himself in the reflection of a window again, you snickered quietly. It was as if you could see the bright red uniform from your peripheral vision and it was already giving you a headache. Setting the flower back into the metallic bucket, you gave the vendor one more glance over and polite smile before drawing your attention to your left, with the unsuccessful hope of getting out of there without Gaston being connected at your hip.

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after midnight

“You’re my best friend.”

Part I / Part II
Pairing: Shawn Mendes x female character
Rating: Mature
Words: 3126

A/N: This is loosely based on some lines in Blink-182’s song After Midnight, and you should listen to it bc it’s a great tune. I started this ages ago and forgot about it and when I found it I loved it. I also snuck in requests - 3 from this and 79 and 148 from this. I hope you like it ^^


His hands are under her thighs, keeping her close, and her chest is pushed against him, her arms around his neck. Shawn walks lazily through the dark, moving carefully so as to not let her fall.

“You know, I wouldn’t do this if you weren’t my best friend,” Shawn slurs.

“I know,” she grins and turns her head on his shoulder to place a messy kiss on his cheek.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” Shawn sighs, pushing up on his toes with force so that she moves higher up on his back, then stalks on slowly along the trail.

“You wouldn’t have had to. This is your fault by the way, you had it coming,” she accuses.

“How is it my fault?” His head snaps to the side and he stumbles, almost falling, but his hand takes hold of a low branch just in time.

“Well, you decided it was a good idea to take a shortcut through the woods while we’re both drunk this late at night and I’m wearing heels that are higher than Wendy was when we left, so it’s only fair you help me out by not letting me trip and die.”

Shawn laughs at her dramatic wording of the situation. “But you had fun though, didn’t you?”

“Loved it! Birthday girl is as alive as the night. You used to have a crush on her, right? Didn’t you get her number before? You never told me how that went.”

“We did talk, but we just stayed friends because she’s been with her girlfriend for years,” Shawn says, chuckling.

“Oh, that explains it. Girls are either blind or gay if they pass on you, because you’re a catch and you’re hot. I think you’re like, really hot.”

Shawn stops walking and turns his head to look at her. This isn’t something she would have said had she not been drinking earlier. He likes to think that their friendship is strong because of the way it has so many sides; they crack jokes at each other’s expense, and they bicker like an old married couple, but they also understand each other like one would their soulmate. They can read one another with a single glance, and they’re always there when the other needs them. They casually tell each other ‘love ya’ when they hang up the phone or when they text goodnight, but platonic is the word he would use to describe them. They’ve even given each other pep talks in order to boost their egos in preparation for first dates. This however, is nothing like that platonic love. These are uninhibited words, an honest thought, because she would never admit to finding him attractive like this.  

As if she’s realised what she just said, she clears her throat and brings her hands to his shoulders and loosens the grip of her thighs around him. “I think I can walk now.”

Shawn bends his knees to let her down and he realises that she must have been lying because she steadies herself on every other tree that they pass. They walk the rest of the trail in silence, which isn’t unusual for them when they’re alone together; they can spend hours sitting next to each other without speaking while he plays video games and she reads a book with her legs across his thighs. But this stillness is a shy lack of words that are replaced by the buzzing of bugs and an owl hooting somewhere among the trees.

A while later, they arrive at the edge of the forest and then they stagger through a suburb he’s not sure he recognises, but the houses look similar to the ones in his area so they keep going until he feels dizzy, the last of the consumed alcohol getting to him. They sit down on the sidewalk in front of somebody’s garage for a while as she rubs his shoulders and back as he fights the nausea.

“I swear, if you throw up…”

“It would be pretty embarrassing for me to puke on Craig’s driveway,” Shawn says.

“That’s his house?” She turns to the garden and recognises the place. “Then by all means, go right ahead. He was such a dick after the breakup. He deserves some vomit on his lawn.”

“Nope,” Shawn replies, slowly standing up. “I think I’m good now.” He starts to walk and she drunkenly waddles behind him.

They’ve gotten themselves deeper in the area when their roles flip, and she’s the drunker one as Shawn starts to sober up, and she seems to have gained a sudden adrenaline rush.

“Did you have one of the brownies?” Shawn asks.

“No, but I was there when they were smoking,” she giggles with a grin on her face.

“You are so high,” he teases.

“Who cares?! Carpe noctem!” she yells into the night, then turns and starts to walk in reverse.

“What does that mean?” Shawn laughs, affected by her contagious bliss.

“It’s like carpe diem, except, you know, night,” she smirks at him and shrugs, then turns around to skip ahead.

“Let’s carpe this frickin’ noctem!”

She looks so alive in that moment, with a big smile plastered on her face and her arms spread out as she runs. Shawn thinks that there is nothing else he would be doing than following her down this street right now and he feels his chest fill with a strange feeling he doesn’t quite get. He follows her and wraps his arms around her waist, spinning her around him. She shrieks and squiggles free of his grip before turning to him. Giggling, she pokes the end of his nose with her fingertip before running off again. 

Shawn catches up to her and slows her down with a hand on her shoulder then hooks his arm around hers for good measure, because the alcohol and the marijuana has definitely gotten to her, and the last thing they need is for her to run into a street lamp and come home bruised.

They wander around for what feels like ages, their slightly drunken state paired with their carelessness doing nothing to help, but Shawn realises a while later that the street signs are no longer blurry. He’s unsure of where exactly they are relative to his place so he tries to remember how the streets are placed, but his mind still feels a little groggy. They follow a curve of streetlamps, and after a while he understands that they’ve been walking in circles.

“Are we lost or do you know where we are?”

“I’m not so sure anymore…” Shawn trails off, slowly spinning around to have a look at their surroundings.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I may be an idiot, but I’m not stupid,” he defends. He spots another street sign that he recognises and finally, he figures it out. “Come here, I think I know where to go now.”

He decides that walking down a straight road is a much better idea and it takes them another twenty minutes that feel more like an hour, but soon enough they’re in front of Shawn’s backyard, slowly opening the gate and sneaking in like thieves.

“Home at last,” he sighs in relief.

“It wouldn’t have taken so long if we hadn’t gotten lost,” she mutters.

“I’ve taken that shortcut a thousand times, and that’s never happened to me,” he defends.

“Have you ever taken it after drinking?”

“You make a fair point.” Shawn shrugs, and his eyes fall upon the dark window of his sister’s room. “We have to be quiet,” he says, holding a finger in front of his mouth. “I think they’re asleep.”

“I’m not gonna have any problems being quiet, you’re the one with long, clumsy legs. And your balance is shit when you’re drunk,” she taunts.

“For your information, I have sobered up quite a bit. See,” he says, lifting one leg behind him as he leans forward with his arms spread out, but he puts his foot back down when he wavers.

“By the looks of your balance and your face you haven’t.”

“My face?” He asks, his fingers automatically going up to his cheek.

“You blush after two beers.”

“I do not.”

She pulls out her phone and quickly snaps a picture of him with the flash on, and he’s momentarily blinded when the light hits his face. When he blinks his eyes open he sees the picture of himself, eyelids tightly shut, nose scrunched up, and yes, cheeks flushed a bright shade of pink.

“Shit.”

“Damn right,” she says. “Let’s get inside now, I’m fucking freezing.”

“No, wait, I just had the best idea!” he grins. “What if we get in the jacuzzi?”

“Shawn, it’s two am.”

“You were the one who said ‘carpe noctem’. Are you too chicken to follow through?”

“No, but I didn’t bring extra underwear,” she whines.

“We can just get in naked!” He grins, an excited look on his face. “I promise to let you borrow my clothes,” he bribes.

She squints thoughtfully. “Fine. But if I’m going commando, so are you.”

“Deal.”

She undresses and gets into the water first as he turns away, and then he makes her cover her eyes as he sheds his clothes. He carefully dips his feet into the water first, then sinks into the welcoming heat.

“You can open your eyes now,” he says.

“It’s not like I needed to close them anyway, it’s pitch black. I can hardly see you.”

“Can you see me now?” Shawn asks as he moves closer until he’s sitting right next to her.

“Yes, your cheeks are like a neon sign,” she chuckles.

“Fuck off,” he laughs. “As much as a dick you are, this is nice. Let’s  make this a tradition. Every time we come to my place drunk, we get in the tub.”

“Are you serious?” She laughs. “What about during winter?”

“Right…” Shawn mumbles and thinks it over for a second. “Quickie. We just get in and get out.”

“Alright, but we get hot chocolate after.” She smiles at him quickly before her face falls. “I just realised that we’re gonna freeze our asses off when we get out of the tub. Can we just stay here forever?”

“I don’t think my parents would be too happy to find us naked in the morning.”

“Your parents,” she groans. “We have to get out.”

“But it’s so cold. Think we can just live with the embarrassment tomorrow?”

She deadpans. “I’ll bake you a cake if you get us towels,” she offers, her face now sporting a sweet smile.

Shawn makes his second agreement for the night, negotiating his way to a two tier cake with muffins on the side, even though he knows she would have baked for him anyways, then runs inside, knowing full well that she has a good view of his arse and will most likely tease him about it later. Shuffling through a cabinet in the bathroom, he finds two large towels and hurries back outside. When he returns with one of the towels hanging from his hips, she’s sitting on the edge of the tub with her back turned to him, arms twisted around her bare body. Her shivering figure is a pitiful sight, so he walks up from behind and wraps the other towel around her.

She flinches at the unsuspected contact, but relaxes when she sees it’s him. “Thanks,” she says, pulling the towel tighter against her. “I got it, you can let go now,” she says, looking up at his eyes when he doesn’t remove his arms.

“Uh, yeah, sorry.” He swallows and takes a couple of steps back, giving her some space.


Shawn passes her a t-shirt and steps into a pair of sweatpants himself while she pulls his shirt over her head, then slides in under the big blanket next to her, sighing at the comfort of his own bed.

“I love your pillows. They’re so big,” she says, shoving her cheek into one of them as she hugs another.

“Are you still drunk?”

She reminds him of his cat when she was still a kitten, how she would fall asleep curled into her own body, and he thinks that she looks pretty damn cute the way she resembles the feline, wrapped in his blanket and surrounded by pillows.

“No, ‘m sober, I swear,” she mumbles.

“Good, then I don’t have to take care of your drunk ass.” Shawn tugs the pillow that’s in her arms and places it beneath his head, smirking when he sees her appalled expression.

“That’s not fair, I’m freezing and it was keeping me warm,” she says, pulling the blanket tighter around herself.

“I need a pillow too,” he says. “But I can cuddle you, I’m warm.”

She places her palm hesitantly on his bare chest, then grins. “Oh my God, you are a furnace. Please hold me,” she pleads although he has already offered to, removing the barrier between them and shuffling closer.

Shawn voluntarily wraps his arms around her and she snuggles into him as he quickly rubs his hand against her back to generate heat. He inhales the smell of her shampoo, a floral scent he can’t quite place, and that strange feeling that he still doesn’t understand comes back. He feels his heart beat faster and he wonders if she realises, because lying in bed like this with her, this close, reminds him of the first time he had a boy in his bed. It reminds him of how he felt when the boy had placed his fingers on Shawn’s cheek and gently kissed him, how they had slowly explored each other with nervous hands. But he shouldn’t be feeling this way, and he definitely shouldn’t be thinking of kissing her because the person he’s holding is his best friend.

She hums and he is pulled back from his thoughts. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It’s the Canadian in me,” he chuckles.

“Uh, not technically, because you don’t have Canadian genes,” she says.

“I keep forgetting that. Well, then evolution has just done a great job with me. I’m also supposedly really hot.”

She chuckles, slapping his chest with her palm gently, and the quiet returns, but this time it’s nice. They don’t need to fill the empty air with small talk; they’re comfortable like this. Along with the comfort comes the thought of a them in Shawn’s mind.

“Did you know that I had a crush on you when we were twelve?” Shawn doesn’t know where the first words to break the silence come from, but they slip past his lips before he can stop himself.

“What?!” She moves abruptly, resting on her forearms as she faces him.

“Yeah. It wasn’t as much of a crush as I thought you were cute, but I also kinda wanted to kiss you, if that makes sense?”

“That sounds like a crush to me,” she laughs. She smiles above him, and Shawn think he sees a faint blush on her cheeks but tells himself he’s imagining things, but then she speaks, “I thought you were cute, too. I mean, I still think you’re cute. Now you’re my best friend.”

He grins, scanning her face for any message, but she just has a faint smile on her lips. Then he notices how her eyes move down, and he wonders, this is when he’s supposed to kiss her, right? That’s how she’d instructed him when he was nervous for his first kiss. He remembers how she had held his face between her hands, whispered against his lips, telling him how to make it better by going slow, and how she had pulled back just before their lips touched. She had told him that girls had a look on their face when they wanted a boy to kiss them, and he was almost certain that this was that look. Hell, he had kissed plenty of girls since, but this is his favourite person, and this means so much more.

He’s hesitant, but he recognises the movement of her eyes and how she licks her lips, and he knows. He lifts his head the slightest bit when she moves hers lower. Shawn thinks everything has stopped, his heart, time, the air around them; everything feels still. Then he realises how absurd the situation is, and he bursts into laughter.

She places her hand over his mouth, attempting to silence him while she giggles into his chest. He makes a strained noise under her hand, and licks her palm when she doesn’t remove it.

“Ew! Why would you do that?!” She wipes her palm against his stomach, and her hand lingers there for a second, and then her eyes look down to his exposed abdomen. “Shut up,” she mutters, when she sees the smirk on his face.

They lie like that for a while, quiet, close to each other, and grinning from ear to ear.

“You’re my best friend,” he says.

Then he moves closer again. She mirrors his movement, tilting her head slightly to the side. Their lips are nearly touching when he pauses, because he has to ask.

“Promise we’ll be okay after?” Shawn whispers the words, terrified of what they mean and what the impending kiss could mean.

“I promise,” she whispers just as quietly. Then she leans in until their lips are touching.

The kiss is sweet, innocent, and gently lingering. But then Shawn’s fingers move to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear and his fingertips brush her neck when he retracts his hand, but her neck feels like a good place for his fingers to be so he rests them there and slowly strokes the skin. She gasps at the feeling, and her mouth falls open, and then the kiss becomes kisses and they become fast and sloppy until sounds can be heard between their mouths. They pull away for a second to catch their breaths, but immediately resume. Shawn’s hand crawls up her back between the shirt and her flesh, and he rubs her back soothingly.

“Mm, too much tongue,” she mumbles against his lips.

Shawn pulls back, offended. “Too much teeth,” he counters.

“Sorry, I’ll be nice,” she laughs, delivering a gentle peck on his mouth.

Her lips are soft against his, and she just feels so nice, and Shawn thinks that he wouldn’t mind doing this more often.

“I think I like kissing you,” he mumbles.

“I think I like kissing you too,” she replies.

They kiss again for a while, slowly this time, until they stop because Shawn almost dozes off. So they hold each other close with loose grips and gentle hands and talk about everything but the kiss, because they don’t need to.

My Dad Kidnapped Little Girls

I don’t ever remember my dad being normal. He was always a little strange. The man was secretive and closed off, and all his attempts at acting like a father rose the hairs on the back of my neck. It seemed forced. I don’t think I ever got used to that. There was no need, because he didn’t keep that up for long. By the time I was 5, I didn’t have a dad. What I had after that was a boss. Maybe an owner. Definitely not a dad.

He fully opened up as a person around that time. He brought a little girl into our home. She was small, but she was older than myself, too. Maybe 7 or 8. Her face was red and raw with tears. “Sam, this is your new little sister, Maria.” Before I could react, she spoke up between small sobs. “No, mister. I don’t know you. My name is Claire. Please take me home to my mommy, I promise that I won’t tell.” By the time she finished what she was saying, she was barely forming coherent sentences. That’s when I saw my Dad stop being my dad. With one fluid motion, he swung his arm, hitting her in the face and knocking her back on her ass.

I jumped up, too afraid and confused to do much of anything, but still frightened nonetheless. I was young, but I’d seen enough television to know that normal families didn’t do these things. “Sam, you sit your ass down or I’ll put you in the ground, you hear me?” Thus marked the loss of my father. Later, as I listened to the quiet cries of the girl, now locked in the room next to mine, he sat me down and explained that he wasn’t my father. He told me things a 5 year old should never hear. My life changed forever. I was a mistake.

The little girl was with us for a while. My dad left me at home while he went to the mall, buying all kinds of nice things for Maria. Claire. Whatever. He probably blew $500. The weeks afterward were strange, disgusting, and violent all at the same time. At the best, she would play along with his games and he would be happy. At the worst, I would have to listen to her screams as he did unspeakable things to her in the next room. After, when the screaming would stop, he would come to me and give me the same speech.

“This happens because you aren’t right, you understand? You should have been born a girl. We wouldn’t have to do this. She’s going to die someday because you’re trash.” He would walk to the door and finish with “Remember, Sam. No one out in that world will ever love you. If you try to leave, I’ll find you and I’ll kill you.”

Maria died about three months after my dad took her. This day wasn’t her first attempt at escape, but instead it was her last. Truly, I do not know if my father meant to kill her or not. He became consumed in his rage and I fought back tears as he continued to hit her and hit her, over and over again. Her little light went out as she choked on blood, gurgling sounds coming from her throat. She was buried in our back yard, right next to the playset that my father bought a year before. After that, he became nervous to the point where he packed me up and we started off on the road.

We lived like that for years. Sometimes, we’d live somewhere as long as a year, but that was the extent of it. On a good year, he’d take two or three girls without so much as a second look. People didn’t necessarily suspect him, though. He was a psycho, but the man was smart too. He would falsify documents and references, getting himself jobs as close to children as possible. I remember, one time, he was hired on to be an ice cream truck driver. He snatched up a little girl he called Gloria right in front of her house. He somehow managed to finish his route, too. She only lasted two months.

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Convergence

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 - Part 1 Chapter 14 - Part 2 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19-1 Chapter 19-2 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22

A/N: You’ve heard the stories of Bucky and Natasha’s time training together when Bucky’s mind wasn’t his own. It was then that Bucky and Natasha formed an innocent friendship as you were told by them…but it wasn’t as innocent as they led you to believe.

It has been a few weeks since the whole revelation of your pregnancy, Bucky has been more attentive towards your needs along with spending hours on end with Tony and Bruce trying to figure out how Wanda was able to unlock your alter-ego. Wanda and Vision have gone on an excursion of sorts, travelling to the lands of the unknown to try and get some answers about her evolving powers. And Natasha has been overly protective of you, seeing to it that your needs are met, which is highly peculiar for her. Both her and Bucky are giving you more attention than you need or think you deserve and it’s becoming a bit suffocating, but you don’t say anything because you know they mean well.

The nights have been a bit chilly, so it was no surprise when I reached for Bucky instead of a blanket. I often teased him saying the only reason I am with him is to cuddle because of his body heat, which runs a few degrees hotter than most. I opened my eyes and noticed that his side of the bed was empty. I glanced over at the clock, it was a little after three in the morning.

“Nat we can’t keep meeting like this.” 

“Everyone is sleeping.” 

“It doesn’t matter, I have to get back to her.”

“I still love you, Bucky. When Wanda almost killed you I thought I had lost you.”

“Natasha, I’m not yours to lose. I’m hers, I’m completely and irrevocably in love with her. She’s the mother of my child and your best friend.”

“Don’t you think I know that?”

“What do you think this will do to her if she finds out?”

“Please, Bucky.” Nat says as she approaches him.

Her hands held his shoulders and I backed away as she leaned into him.

What did I just see? I thought as I crept slowly to bed.

A few hours later I rose out of a restless sleep I glanced and saw that his side of the bed was still untouched. He didn’t come to bed at all. I made my way to the kitchen and Bruce was sitting at the kitchen island having a cup of something dark and strong.

“Do you want me to pour you a cup?” He asked, placing the paper he was so enthralled in on the table. I shook my head and pointed to my belly, “oh, right.” He says. “How about a cup of tea instead?”

“Thank you.” I say sitting opposite him on the island. I watched his movements, slow but meticulous as he made a cup of tea and placed a plate with a boston cream donut in front of me.

“Good morning.” Nat sang as she made her way into the kitchen.

“Good morning.” Bruce automatically replied as he went back to his paper.

Nat poured herself a cup of coffee and took a bite of my donut, licking the creamy filling from her fingertips. And as if on cue Bucky came in from his morning run, his shirt sweat soaked and clinging to his body.

“Oh, Bucky.” Bruce says. “Can you meet me in the lab in about thirty minutes? Tony and I were discussing a theory last night and we want to test it out.”

“Yeah sure. Just let me change out of my clothes.”

“Yes, okay. No rush. I’ll set everything up.” He says lifting up the paper he was reading earlier.

Bruce pours himself another cup of coffee and exits the kitchen without a second glance. I observed Bucky and Nat, who were doing a poor job at being discreet about ignoring each other.

Bucky kisses me on the forehead, “good morning, doll.”

“Is there anything that I need to know?” I asked picking at my donut.

“About?” He asked as he reached for the coffee pot.

I gazed between him and Nat. “About how Natasha is still in love with you.”

You could pinpoint the moment the air escaped the room. I gripped my cup tightly until my knuckles whitened.

Bucky spoke first, “Doll, let me explain.”

“Yes, please do.”

“That kiss meant nothing.”

The air immediately left my lungs as the bile rose up my throat, “What kiss?”

Bucky knew then that he said more than he should have, he tried to approach me, but I shook my head as the tears filled my eyes. “How could you? I trust you.”

She approached me. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t.” I say. “You are in love with my boyfriend. You are supposed to be my best friend.”  

“Doll.”

I grabbed the side of the counter and staggered out of the kitchen. “I-I can’t breathe.” I say as I made my way out of the kitchen and into the open air.  I felt their presences behind me, but it was all a blur. I opened the door and practically fell into Steve’s arms. 

“You don’t look well.”

“I can’t breathe.” I say as I pushed past him.

“Doll, let’s talk about this.”

I kept walking, Natasha was reaching for me, pleading with me, but I couldn’t believe the betrayal. I kept backing away not realizing how close I was to the edge until I felt myself free falling. There were commotions and screams, Steve’s shield whizzed past my head and then it was all silence and darkness.

“I’ve been here before.” I stated.

“Many times.” The familiar voice answers. “Should I be flattered that you remembered?”

He was warm and I found comfort in that. “Lo. I don’t want to go back.”

“There’s a child growing in you.”

I clung to him and he held me close to his chest.

I closed my eyes and felt the familiar tug of my bones as we disappeared into another realm.

Chastity, you asked for it.

My own fault, sent the key to an ex-girlfriend, who am still good friends with. She called me up, thanked me for the card and asked what the key was for as I had asked her to call me when it arrived and to hold onto it for a few weeks. I said I didn’t want to tell her over the phone but could I come down an show her. She said I have to tell her first, so I said a chastity device. She asked if it was on, I said no I was waiting to confirm she had the key. She said I should have asked first and she was going to throw both keys away. I was glad that I hadn’t put it on but sad with her response. About a month later she called me up, said she still had the keys safe and asked if I still had the device and could she see it. I drove the 3 hours to her place and showed her the device. It’s a metal belt device with a anal ring and a solid cock sheath sticking out and down at the front and a cross at the end. She picked it up and turned it over a few times in her hands. She then said you are willing to wear this if I say I will be your, your keyholder as you described it? Yes I said. Let me get this straight, I don’t have to do anything apart from not giving you the keys back and that means you can’t get hard, cum or even touch yourself unless I say so? Yes I said again. Fine do you have the padlock with you? I showed it to her and she said lock it and hand it to me. I did and told me to wait. She then went to her room and 2 minutes later came back with the open padlock. Now you can see I have the keys so now I want to see this chastity device on you. I started to strip and she kept asking if I was sure about this and did she need to do anything. I kept assuring her it was fine and no she did not have to do a thing. Once naked she turned to me and said do I want to do anything before it goes away. My heart was racing and my mind went blank, I just said I need to get it on quick before I get to hard or change my mind. I put the belt around my waist and she passed the underside between my legs to me. Within a few seconds my cock was in the tube and my balls were through the hole just below. I could feel my cock start to harden as I put the left side over the tab for the padlock. I then pulled the right side over and slid it over the tab. While holding it she slipped the padlock through the hole, sat back and said are you sure you want this. Let me look this over. She then pulled, turned me around and bent me over and said so this is where you poop and you have to sit to pee, right? Yes. Ok I will ask you one last time if this is what you want? Yes this what I want, I said. Right, she said, stand in front of me, hands behind your back, last chance… before I could open my mouth she snapped the lock shut. Got you, she smiled, and I get to say when you get out as you forgot to ask. You see I have been reading up online about this and the best way is to get them locked before a time limit can be set, then it becomes the keyholder’s decision, you might regret this before long. She then grabbed my balls and said these are mine also and I expect then to get real full, and she gave them a firm squeeze. I let out a sharp breath. She let go and said get dressed we can go for a meal and a movie, your treat to me. Everything was fine until it was time for me to leave. Work the next day and a 3 hour drive home. As we kissed goodbye she placed her hand on the device, all mine she said, I like that idea. She then placed a sealed envelope in my pocket. Be sure to call me when you get back, but I know you will. The drive home was fine but I needed to go to the toilet as soon as I walked in. Then it sunk in, sitting to pee, every time. I cleaned myself up and called her to say I was home. She then showed how into this she was by saying stay on the phone as I bring myself off. An hour later she had finished and had told me to call her tomorrow. There I was in chastity, with a woman over 3 hours away with the only keys, but then I remembered there was a third key I had held back in an emergency. It was in ice in my freezer, so would defrost in about 2 hours and the I could masturbate myself to sleep. The time seemed to take for ever but I got the key. Time for release, I put the key in but it would not turn. I tried over and over again still it would not turn. I then remembered the envelope she had given me. I opened it and 2 keys were inside with a card saying, I am returning your keys and as you should have found out they don’t fit your padlock. I checked online and I found out that type is issued with 3 keys, so I purchased my own so I have all 3 to the one you are wearing. Let this be your first lesson, do not try me. I want to do this for you and you will follow my rules. The first rule is from now on no male underwear ever. You might have to buy pads to help with the leaks. Now call me and say thank you for being such a great keyholder.
My face dropped, this is it, for real. All I can say is be careful what you wish for.

LOVE YOURSELF HIGHLIGHT TEASER Phone call theory

So, near the end of the video, someone calls Yoongi, leading him to fall off the couch to see who it is. My thinking is that Jungkook called. Why? When Jungkook and his girl was sitting on the bench at the hospital, he hears someone singing when his girl takes off an earbud. He turns to see it’s Yoongi’s girl.

 I’m guessing she could also be singing a composition Yoongi (which could also be with the help of Jungkook because he was singing in one clip)…

…made, because right after it shows a clip and Jungkook and Yoongi sitting in front of a piano, while Yoongi is playing the piano. 

The room also looks like the same room Yoongi and the girl was in. He walks over and notices the lighter, that he probably figures is Yoongi’s. 

Which causes me to think that seeing/ remembering Yoongi causes him to call him again which is why when Yoongi looks at his phone to see who calls, Jin says

And Yoongi could possibly feel guilty about the incidents that took place during HYYH, I wonder if he’ll pick it up…

You-You-Me

klance || truth or dare || 6.5k || nsfw

The paladins introduce Allura to the age-old Earthling game of truth or dare. Keith shares unwelcome knowledge about his sex habits. Hunk may or may not eat a sock. Somehow, sexual tension and relief ensues. Also, there are jokes.

i apologize for the memes, but be aware, it’s about 80% jokes, 20% smut

>> READ ON AO3 <<

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