and she left an empty cardboard box outside of his room

The Neighbors

Part One: The New Neighbors.

Summary: You’ve been in New York for about 3 years now moving here looking for a new experience. You grew up in a small town with you parents and siblings, so your new experience was city life. You began working at a hospital doing patient records and a moved into a cute little apartment in a mostly safe neighborhood in Brooklyn. After being at the hospital for a few months, you were presented with an amazing offer to switch from patient records to shadowing nurses, you just had to take a few classes outside of work while you worked with them. Since then, your life in New York has been great. But will it stay that way once you meet your new neighbors across the hall?

Warnings : swearing, bad flirting.

Pairings: Sam Wilson x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, eventual Steve Rogers x Reader


     The shrill sound of your alarm clock wakes you from you well earned sleep. You roll yourself over, smacking the snooze button and peaking at the time. 2 pm. I swear I changed my alarm yesterday before work. You let out a loud yawn that could be confused as a moan while your stretch out in your bed. You flop back down onto the mattress, thinking about what you’re going to do today.

   Well, since I’m done with classes & my shift doesn’t start until 10 tonight, maybe I can find a new show on Netflix!  You amp yourself up for the day but your body is still feeling the exhaustion from your 12 hour shift at the hospital. You decide the best thing to cure the exhaustion is coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. You make your way to the kitchen, sporting your favorite pajamas: a long baggy band tee with boy short underwear.You skip around your kitchen while the coffee brews, tidying everything up. When you’re finally about to take a sip of your coffee, a loud boom sounds from the hall outside your apartment. You jump at the noise, successfully spilling your hot coffee down your chest and a little on your bare thighs.

    “Son of a bitch. What the hell is going on?” There are only two apartments on this floor of the building, yours, & one that’s been empty since you got here. Your landlord says it isn’t rented out like the others, it’s owned. The owners just come & go randomly, never staying too long. You’ve never seen your neighbors, but today is going to change that. You strip out of your shirt and throw on your black robe that lands about mid thigh on you. You slide on your slippers and go open your front door. You come face to face with stacks of cardboard boxes, and the sound of two male voices fills your ears.

   “What did I tell you? Keep your boxes in your fucking room! It’s already crammed in here enough, you asshole,” you hear the first voice yell.  All you hear in response from the second voice is a laugh ,and something hit a wall. You hear a curse from the first voice.  As you maneuver your way through the hall of boxes and to the opening for your neighbor’s apartment, you see that the door’s open, and like the first voice said, there’s boxes everywhere. Dear God, who has this much shit?

   You knock on the door frame and see a head pop up from behind the boxes. You let out a laugh and send a shy wave.

  “ Well hello there,” He smiles and makes his way around the boxes to you. He was several inches taller than you, with dark skin and a shining smile. You get the sense that you’ve seen him before, but shake it off and introduce yourself.

Originally posted by littlemisssyreid

  “Hey, I’m Y/n. I live across the hall.” You shake hands, before he says anything you hear the  other voice.

“I thought Stark said he bought this apartment because no one else lives on this level?” Stark? Tony Stark? Then it all clicks; the first man is Sam Wilson, the Falcon.  Another man emerges from the boxes and you have to stop your mouth from falling open. The Winter Soldier. Holy shit. The man had shoulder length brown hair. His jawline was perfectly sculpted and his eyes were a perfect shade of blue. He looks you up and down and a smile forms on his face.

  “Hi, I’m Bucky Barnes.” He waves, you send an awkward wave back.

Originally posted by sebastianobrien

“Hi, uhm I’m sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt your unpacking.” You slowly start backing away. The man who you recognize as Sam Wilson stops you.  

  “No no! It’s okay! I’m Sam, by the way. Sorry about all the boxes in the hall. Like you heard, we thought we were alone here.” He laughs and you follow suit.

   “Well I’ve been here for a couple years and haven’t seen you either of you here before.”

  “Well, Stark had bought this place for himself when he needed a break from things, but he sent us here to lay low for a while.”

  “Ahhh, I see. Is it just you two here?“ Way to be nosey…

  "Us & Steve. He should be home any minute if you want to wait & meet him too.” His voice is kind and you can see you getting along very well with him. Bucky’s been silent this entire time but his eyes haven’ left you.

  You smile and shake your head, “Nah, I should head back. I just wanted to stop and say hello. I’ll catch Steve another time!"You turn away, starting to leave.

   "Feel free to come say hello anytime Dollface, especially if you’re wearing that robe.”  The sound of Bucky’s voice surprises you. You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, but you turn and smile shyly at Bucky.

Originally posted by sophiabuzh

  “I’ll see you guys later!” You dart to your door, but you can still hear Sam & Bucky.

  “Dude , what the hell? You’re going to scare her off! Keep the creepiness inside, oldman,” you hear Sam say.

 "It didn’t seem like she minds all that much, maybe you’re just crabby that the ladies don’t want a bird boy, Wilson.“

"Man, shut the hell up.”

You shut your door while you let out a laugh at your new neighbors. This could be fun.

Sweeter Than Chocolate || Remus Lupin x Reader

Andrew Garfield as a young!remus is my aesthetic (/ω\)

**please don’t repost/plagiarize this story. Reblogs are fine!

{{request status: open}}

word count: 1,400+


It happened again. Someone was leaving a pile of chocolate frogs in front of your dorm. At first, you thought that it was meant for your roommate Teresa, but when she scrunched up her nose in disdain and told you that she wasn’t a fan of sweets, you figured that you were the only option left.

Chocolate was, after all, one of your main weaknesses, and you would eat it every single day if it wasn’t for the fact that having an ungodly amount of chocolate in your system would give you the most horrendous stomach ache (you should know since you’ve been there before.)

Feeling happy that your mystery supplier had given you ten more chocolate frogs, you scoop each of the boxes up and gingerly place them within your bag, “These will be the perfect pick-me-up after a study session.”

You enter your dorm, seeing that it was empty as you breathed out a sigh of relief. Going toward your side of the room, you grab the textbooks that you needed along with several quills, a few jars of ink, and some paper. Since it was a Friday night, you knew that the library would be empty as the vast majority of the students preferred to hang out in the courtyard or the Great Hall to mingle with their friends before turning in for the night.

Which made this night the perfect night for you to catch up on your reading.

Once you had everything you needed, you hold your textbooks close to your chest and walk out of your dorm, taking confident strides to the library as your hair bounced with your movements.


Remus Lupin had no idea why he became so terrified at the thought of conversing with the young woman known as [Full Name].

Maybe it was because she was so pretty and smart coupled along with the fact that she had a penchant for sweets (just like he did). While he was walking around the hallways, about to meet up with his friends outside, Remus froze upon seeing the girl he had just been thinking about walk past him.

Almost like a conditioned response, Remus felt his face turn red as his green eyes followed [Name’s] figure. He watched as her hips swayed, seeming to walk with a happy bounce in her step. Mesmerized by her movement, Remus turns around to follow her from a safe distance.

[Name] leads him to the library, the giant room completely barren of any other student. The fact that she was the only one in here (excluding Remus, of course. She didn’t need to know about his presence, really.) makes a wide grin form on her face when she finds a table near the center of all the books.

Making sure that he was hidden behind one of the shelves, Remus peers over it to watch as [Name] emptied out the contents of her bag. When he saw the 10 chocolate frogs he had given her spread out against the table, Remus thought that he was going to suffer from a heart attack from how badly his heart was racing.

Lately, he had been giving [Name] a whole bunch of his chocolate stash, not brave enough to hand it to her personally, but still desperate enough to make her happy as he placed them in front of her dorm room. He was so pathetic that he memorized her schedule, just to make sure that she wasn’t there when he appeared with his chocolates in hand.

He was still staring at her (with a prominent blush on his pale cheeks) when he felt his whole body stiffen at the sound of a familiar laughter. “Hey Moony! Where’d you disappear off to?”

Curse you Padfoot! Before he could escape the library in hopes that [Name] wouldn’t notice him, Remus saw his three rambunctious friends entering the library as they loudly called out his name, interrupting the tranquil silence.

He sees the girl look up at him, making his whole back turn warm as he began to sweat profusely before gesturing at his friends, “Please keep it down! I don’t want-“

”Whoa, is that the girl you’ve been talking about? You lucky bloke, she’s gorgeous!” Sirius nearly shouted at Remus, making his heart sink at what was to come.


You were in the middle of reading your Potion’s text when you realized that you were no longer alone in the library.

A grimace appears on your face when you recognize the four group of boys who were notorious troublemakers within the Gryffindor house. Because of how loud and obnoxious they were, you found yourself wishing that you had been sorted into Ravenclaw instead.

You sigh and start tracing shapes on the page of your textbook, waiting for the boys to leave. You didn’t know what they were saying since their voices suddenly settled down to hushed tones as you hoped that they weren’t talking about you.

Feeling anxious, you grab one of the chocolate frogs and begin unboxing it, holding the cardboard close to your lips as the frog automatically jumped into your mouth. You smile and chew thoughtfully, loving how the milk chocolate seemed to melt in your mouth as it felt like soft silk against your tongue.

Too busy relishing the taste of the delectable chocolate, you didn’t realize how the group of boys had disbanded, leaving only one behind as he made his way toward you. You were about to check out what kind of card you had gotten with your chocolate, only to be stopped when you heard a soft cough.


Looking up, you saw the tall boy with shaggy brown hair and clear green eyes staring nervously at you. With a smile, you giggle and ask him, “Remus Lupin, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Remus seemed taken aback at how you knew his name, “Y-You know who I am?”

”But of course, you’re pretty much one of Gryffindor’s star students. You have what it takes to be a magnificent wizard, no doubt about it.” You had always harbored a deep admiration and respect for Remus and honestly wanted to be just like him. In fact, he was just about the only one in that obnoxious group consisting of James, Sirius, and Peter that you actually (and genuinely) liked.

You watch as Remus blushed at your words, “Th-Thank you, honest.”

An awkward silence was formed between the two of you, and you had a rising suspicion that Remus wanted to talk to you about something. “Anyways, enough small talk, what is it that you want to tell me?”

He begins to stutter, making it difficult for you to understand him. “I-I w-well, I w-was just w-wondering…I mean, th-that is, if you really want to, w-would you, c-could you….?” He trails off suddenly, making you give him a perplexed expression in response.

You had no idea what he wanted to say.

With a light laugh escaping from your lips, you pick up one of the chocolate frogs and throw a box at him, “Here, eat this to calm down. Whenever I feel anxious, I always find that some good chocolate helps with boosting my confidence.” You wink at him, watching Remus with amusement as he fumbled with opening the box of chocolate.

You look away from him so that he wouldn’t be so nervous, turning your attention back to your notes you had written during class. After a few minutes of waiting, you figured that Remus had already eaten the chocolate when he called out your name again.

”Yes?” You face him again, only to be met with the close proximity of his face when he leaned down to kiss you.

You were pleasantly surprised, to say the least. This boy’s lips were impossibly soft, and you found yourself moaning when you tasted chocolate from them. Quickly becoming addicted to his kiss, you wrap your arms around Remus’ neck to deepen the kiss.

As if you had taken his breath away, Remus forces himself to pull away from you, letting out a shuddering breath when he apologized, “Gods, I’m such a fool. I only meant to- I mean, I j-just wanted to ask you out. I didn’t mean to kiss you, but oh god the kiss was so good. It was better than I imagined, and the fact that you accepted my chocolate gifts-“

You interrupt his nervous ranting when you kissed him again, silently telling him that his feelings for you were requited. Once he had calmed down, you pull away as he whispered to you, “Will you have me as your boyfriend?”

You flash him a bright smile and nuzzle your nose together with his, “How could I possibly say no to a boy who’s kisses are sweeter than chocolate?”


Originally posted by nellaey

Why are baby boomers like this.

Just went and bought a new TV since mine decided to explode last week.

Since my car is roughly the size of a small hamster wheel the box wouldn’t fit. Nbd, I am industrious. When it still wouldn’t fit after a few minutes of me and the shop clerk guy rearranging some of things and playing with angles and leverage, I decide to just take the tv out of the box. The actual tv is more than small enough, it’s just the box that won’t fit.

So here I am sitting in front of Best Buy prying a large cardboard box open. I told the shop guy he was good to leave me to it, since I know they’re not allowed to do that kind of thing, and if anyone is going to break my new TV on the pavement it’s going to be me.

Oh and did I mention I just got out of a job interview, so I look nice and classy, hair done, nails done, wearing pearls, with my trendy baby pink hybrid car, cussing at a cardboard box and ripping it apart with my teeth because it’s fucking bolted together with huge fuckoff staples.

The staff keeps peeking out the doors at me. I think they’re cracking up. I would be too. Two different guys stop and offer to help. Chivalrous. But I got this- this box is going the fuck down.

I finally pry this bitch open and I’m carefully easing my new 55" TV out of the box, maneuvering it into the back of my tiny baby hatchback. I’m bleeding where the box tore my cuticle. I stop. Pull it back out and flip it over b/c I decide I want it screen-up just in case I hit a speedbump-

And behind me I hear this lady.

“No, there’s this girl just sitting outside Best Buy trying to put a tv in her car, and they’re not helping her or ANYTHING. Like… She’s out here all by herself, struggling. The staff is right there, they don’t even care.”

It’s some bleach-blonde, overly tan older woman talking on her phone and just standing there gawking at me. Not offering to help, just sitting there absolutely trashing the Best Buy staff on my behalf.

Who seriously stands there and bitches about a total stranger’s customer service experience?

After listening to it for a couple of minutes I finally turn around.

“Hi. Hey. I’m fine. I told them I got this.”

She stares like it never occurred to her I could hear everything she’s saying.

“They should be helping you. You’re doing this all by yourself.”

“They’re fine. They were helping earlier. I told them to go back in, because I had to take it out of the box to fit it in my car.”

“They couldn’t help you?”

I blink. “They aren’t allowed to help with this stuff, they’ll get in trouble. And I’m not going to waste a delivery just for the box. It fits fine like this.” Pat pat the snug, happy little tv just to prove my point.

“But- you’re struggling.”

She says it like I am a soft delicate baby bird trying to lift a brick (instead of a grown-ass woman in heels and pearls who just called a cardboard box a ‘fucknugget’). Like the very concept of struggling with something alone is the stuff of Lifetime movies.

“Yeah… So?”

She looks deeply confused.

It occurs to me that women like her are not used to solving problems on their own. Someone always helps them. Someone has always been there to help them. And when they don’t, she just has to pitch a fit until they do. I’m used to being left to do things on my own. It’s second nature now. I remember my first job, and getting heatstroke on my 18th birthday from carrying dozens and dozens of folding chairs up a hill in 90+ degree weather.
The older couple whose party I was catering (only supposed to be doing the food setup, but they told me to bring the chairs in and I was too young to put my foot down and say ‘that isn’t my job’) stood there watching me, drinking cokes from the personal vending machine in their garage.

I think about asking this lady why, if she’s so concerned she doesn’t grab an end and help me lift, instead of taking her vicarious ire out on the poor customer service people. I wonder if she would have cared if I wasn’t wearing my designer pants or my White Room top (both thrift store finds). But I’m happy for her to just go away.

As soon as I’m done, the Best Buy guy rushes out and offers to throw away the empty box for me. I tell him about the lady and what just happened. He was super sweet and absolutely didn’t deserve to be dragged by that lady.

Alex Ward and Monster Mint, Battle One

The mint took over Alex’s garden overnight with a disturbing aggression. Sunday evening she had received the box from Aunt Rose, a small note stuck to the cardboard with only the words put outside written on it. For an empty cardboard box it had looked unsuspicious, so she had followed the instructions. Monday morning arrived with the surprise of a new herb next to the basil. Alex inspected it thoroughly, and, when no signs of evilness were found (they were yet to appear unnoticed after the afternoon tea), she left it there. Aunt Rose knew what she was doing. Most of the time. Alex possessed a similar demeanor when it came to her own magic, so she didn’t judge. Aunt Rose was nice company and gave good advice.

Tuesday morning was less fun, and more stress. Her garden was no longer basil, lavender, cilantro, and hollowing honeyplum. Those were gone, devoured by the vicious mint that had covered all fifteen square meters of it. Alex did not know what her reaction should be when she saw the mint leaves swallow the last hollowing honeyplum blossom. They stuck to the petals, and the flower was dragged to the bottom of the green sea. When it was done, the monster mint had the audacity to burp, the gurgling sound as disturbing as the fact that the plant had a consciousness of its own.

Aunt Rose had left on a business trip to the Underworld, so she didn’t pick up her phone. Alex was alone in her freshly smelling time of crisis. This was the only bright side to it, unlike that one time two years ago when a whole family of gnomes with poor personal hygiene had sneaked into her basement and spent there a whole week, during summer. That smell had not been as pleasant.

Keep reading

What I Wanted

Pairing: Reader x Jungkook

Genre: angst, sliceoflife

Summary: Jungkook’s heart is breaking, and yours is already dead.

Word Count: 7.6k

A/N: there’s some unexplicit mature topics involved. i have been inspired by this!! super!! angst fic that killed me inside as well as reply 1988 hahahhaa

One day, a package comes for Jeon Jungkook.

He receives it in the early morning before he leaves for work. Jungkook takes the package, which is wrapped clumsily in blue polka-dotted wrapping paper, and sets it on his nightstand. He’ll have to look at it later.

Night falls, and Jungkook arrives home from work, exhausted. The only noises are the crickets that camp outside of the house, and the buzzing of the freezer. His house is empty; they probably went out somewhere again. His wife and son, that is.

Jungkook microwaves some leftovers in the fridge and sits in his seat in the silent dining room, flipping through the mail. While discarding the advertisements, Jungkook remembers the package he received this morning. He gets up and walks to his room, grabbing the blue cube as well as his reading glasses.

Once he sits back down, he puts on the circular lenses and examines the package, checking for a return address. There isn’t one.

Keep reading


Character: Dean Winchester

Warning: None

Word Count: 1,767

Request:  U should do a littlest Winchester imagine we’re like dean is trying to have a normal apple pie life with Lisa and Ben and one day deans baby girl gets dropped off on there door step bc u know dean is the guy that messed around a lot and I find that idea cute idk y

A/N: So this isn’t a Littlest Winchester story because it didn’t fit the premise of that collection, but it is super cute so I made it into a stand alone. Also Lisa and Ben aren’t in it. Hope you like it!


   She’s so beautiful even with rat’s nest hair and wearing only the white slip she wore under her wedding dress. The blankets are wrapped around her body, yet only one leg is covered; her arms clutch her pillow, and her other knee has been poking Dean in the side for most of the night. There’s a drool spot on her pillow, and she’s snoring and taking up most of the bed. God, he loves her. Smiling to himself, he presses a kiss to her temple and strokes the soft hairs around her ear. With a sigh, she stretches her legs and blinks at him.

   “Morning,” he says.

   “’snot morning. Jus’ cuddle.” She scoots over until her nose is pressed into his shoulder.

   “I wanna make you breakfast.”

   “Breakfast in bed.”

   “I want you out there. I wanna spend every waking moment with you, baby girl.”

   “Why’d I marry a morning person?”

   “Because you pity me.”

   “That’s part of it. Gimme ten minutes to shower.”

Keep reading

Banana Split, part 2

You wanted it and you got it. Part 1 can be found here

You received your eighth email of the day, congratulating you on the success of your open house event. It had gone fantastically; you managed to sort out all the issues in time (your favourite chair arrived an hour before you were due to open the doors), and everyone thought it looked superb. Your combination of rich colours and muted notes, patterns and plains, had been highly complimented and there where loads of journalists and interior decorators still contacting you for quotes and information. Your boss was thrilled with you, and had hinted that your yearly review would be a pleasant experience all round.

You sat back on the sofa and huffed miserably. You should have been over the moon with all the praise, your hard work had paid off, but you couldn’t help but feel like the sacrifice wasn’t worth it. You tossed your phone aside and put Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juliet on. You’d been crying solidly for the last two days, why stop now?

It had finally hit you that Jack was gone. Before the event you had thought he was just staying away till after it was over to give you some space. Both being stubborn, neither had tried to get in contact with the other, so you’d had no reason to assume he wouldn’t come back. You had been desperately lonely without him, sure, but you’d thrown yourself into the last few days of preparation and plastered a smile on your face on the day, so hadn’t allowed yourself the time to think about him. But when he didn’t show up to the event, or come home the next day, you started to fear that you’d screwed things up for good. You been up half that night crying, torturing yourself and raking over every word you’d exchanged with Jack, every fight, every venomous comment. You finally cried yourself to sleep, and moped about in bed for half of the next day. You eventually got up at 2 o’clock in the afternoon and trudged to the corner shop in your pyjamas for lots of chocolate, ice cream, and a few bottles of wine. You hadn’t consumed anything else, apart from tea, since. You’d never hated yourself more. Jack was the best thing in your life, you loved him more than you could comprehend, but somehow, you’d managed to push him away. You fucked things up so royally that he up and left, and it looked like he wasn’t coming back. You tried calling him 57 times. When you went to leave a voicemail the words dried in your throat and all you could manage to splutter out was “Ummm, I- um… Jack…” before hurriedly hanging up. You’d broken down into guttural sobs again after that.

Throughout the movie you blubbered, a pile of tissues growing on the sofa beside you. You spooned ice cream lazily into your mouth and moaned throatily when the titular characters finally lay in eternal sleep, side by side in a candlelit church. You were an absolute wreck. When your phone rang, the sound sharp in the lonely room, you jumped and rushed frantically to pick it up. Finally, finally, it must be Jack calling you back. You located the source of the noise but your heart sank when you saw the caller ID – it wasn’t Jack, it was your sister Jenny. You answered the phone to hear her bubbly voice greet you.

“Hi Y/N, it’s Jen.”

You mumbled a hello.

“I just wanted to hear how your work thing went, did it work out?” she chirped.

“Yeah it went really well thanks,” you murmured morosely.

“Aren’t you happy about it then?” she queried.

“Thrilled. I think Jack and I have broken up.”

You heard her gasp before gushing, “Oh love, I’m so sorry! What happened?”

You proceeded to explain to her everything that had gone on over the last month, battling the tears constantly, and losing. She sighed sympathetically when you finished, and offered her condolences. “So how do you feel?” she ventured.

“Completely shit, unsurprisingly. I can’t believe I messed this up.”

“Hey now, don’t be too hard on yourself. It sounds like he was being a bit of a dick to you.”

“Only because I made his life miserable! I told him it would be better if he wasn’t there, Jen. I said those words. I pushed him away.”

You broke down again and it was a good few minutes before you could get any words out, your sister trying to comfort you the whole time.

“Right, that’s it,” she said decisively, “I’m coming to say with you for a few days.”

“But what about the kids?”

“Matt can look after them, they’ll be fine. Right now, you need me more.”

She hung up not long after to make plans for her visit.

Jenny arrived that evening with a bag of proper food and a hug. You rushed into her arms and let her hold you. Being older, she had always been a source of comfort to you and she somehow knew the right thing to say at any given moment.

“You poor chicken,” she purred, stroking your head.

It didn’t take her long to switch into action mode. One look at you and the apartment told her all she needed to know about how deep your funk was. She ushered you off to have a bath, running it for you and tossing bath-bomb in. The water eased your aching bones – everything ached – and the perfume that lingered in the air breathed freshness into your lungs. You washed your hair and tried to stand a little taller when you got out. I didn’t do much but you looked a little less like a hobo. You came out of the bathroom to find that Jenny had cleaned all the empty wrappers, cartons and bottles, as well as the tissues, away. She had put clean sheets on your bed and had a homemade lasagne in the oven that she’d brought with her. She handed you a cup of tea and you sat at the kitchen table with it, expressing your thanks.

You ate the food in relative quiet, Jenny attempting to make small talk but finding an unwilling recipient. You ate the food, enjoying a substantial meal for once rather than wine and chocolate. A headache thumped inside your head so you popped a few paracetamol and gulped some water down thirstily.

“When was the last time you got out of this apartment?”

“Wednesday,” you mumbled.

“Y/N that was three days ago!”

You shrugged, not knowing what to tell her.

“Look, I know you’re devastated but you have to take care of yourself,” she said, placing a loving hand on your arm.

You nodded slowly as fresh tears stained your cheeks. “I thought was going to marry him Jen,” you sniffed.

“We all did, love. We all did.”

Jenny stayed for the weekend, encouraging you to eat properly and get outside. She even managed to drag you out to a café for lunch and you wandered round an art gallery for the afternoon. In every painting you saw your broken heart. By Sunday evening she had to go, to get back to her husband and children for the start of the new week. You were due to into work, having been ‘working from home’ for the last few days, which you were completely dreading. The thought of seeing people, your colleagues, and pretending to smile and thank them for their compliments, made you sick to the stomach.

“I don’t know if I can do it, Jen,” you mumbled as you hugged her goodbye.

She pulled away and held you firmly by the shoulders, “Of course you can. You’re a tough nut Y/N, always have been, you can do anything. It’s gonna suck but you’ll get through it.”

You nodded, unconvinced, but smiled a little as she kissed you on the cheek and said a final goodbye before heading out the door.

You sat, alone again, in your apartment. The craving to hold Jack in your arms, to kiss him and tell him how much you love him, suddenly overcame you. You sprang to your feet, needing to find some piece of him, some memory to cling onto. You ran to the bedroom and rooted through the drawers. He had taken a bag of clothes and toiletries with him when he left, but pieces of him were scattered everywhere. You pulled out an old hoodie of his; it was worn and frayed in places but his familiar scent clung onto it, deep and rich and luscious. You put in on, wrapping yourself in the ghost of him. You put a playlist of love songs on and took a cardboard box out from under the bed. You placed it on the mattress in front of you and, taking a deep breath, opened it. It contained two years’ worth of memories: ticket stubs, polaroids, scraps of napkin covered in scribbled stanzas or lyrics from love songs, stolen hotel keycards from weekends away, pressed flowers from the first bouquet he ever bought you, a page ripped from a book that he once read out to you and had made you both cry, snippets and snapshots of the life you had built together. You took each item out one by one. You held it, noticing the texture, how worn or tatty it was, reminiscing over the memory that it elicited, grieving for the lost opportunity to make more. The unbearable sadness hung heavily over you, like a black cloud, casting you in shadow. You cried silently until you reached a photograph near the bottom. It was a little shabby around the edges, but the colours glowed from it, bright as ever. It showed you and Jack, sat on a bench, giggling at some long-forgotten joke. He has his arm around you and your head rests lazily against his chest. Your eyes are closed but his are fixed firmly on you, drinking in the sight of your joy. You looked at the photo and saw love. You lingered on it for a long time as twilight crept into the room. Tears dripped from your eyes, one landing heavily on the photograph. You turned it over and saw Jack’s handwriting scrawled over the back, saying ‘On the bench where we met, one year later’. You had gone back on your first anniversary and asked a stranger to take a photo of you. You remembered Jack making you laugh just as it was taken, his usual sarcastic humour never failing to send you into hysterics. For a moment you felt a golden glow illuminate your insides and your heart sang a soft melody from a time long ago. But the crushing reality of your loneliness soon returned and that black cloud rained all over the hope burning in you.

A lone moment of clarity descended upon you as the urge struck to go back to that bench. It was in London, in a park only ten minutes’ walk from your flat. You pulled on a pair of boots and a fluffy coat over Jack’s jumper, grabbed your keys, and left before you could come to your senses. It was a cold autumn night and you were a woman walking alone in the dark in London. It certainly wasn’t one of your better ideas, but you marched purposefully along the quiet streets none the less.

When you got to the park your feet took you in the right direction, your body remembering the exact spot more than your mind did. But when you saw it, there was someone already sitting on it. You faltered, as you hadn’t anticipated the possibility of having company. You almost turned around and went home again, but something drew you closer. The figure sat, elbows resting on knees, shoulders hunched and head hanging down. As you got closer you saw it was a man, tall by the look of it. He had what you guessed was blonde hair, but it was illuminated with dusky grey in the moonlight. You took a few more steps and felt a desperate loneliness radiating off him.

“Jack?” you ventured, your voice sailing across the quiet night.

His head snapped up and you saw the face of the man you loved, so familiar but painted with a sadness that was alien to you. His usually bright eyes were a deep blue-grey and his laughter lines had been replaced with threads of grief etched deeply into his skin. You rushed to him as he stood to meet you. You leapt into his arms and flung yours around his neck. You clutched each other tightly, silently breathing each other in and revelling in the comfort of your lover.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” you muttered, like a prayer.

You felt him shake his head and his chest hummed as he murmured, “Me too.”

You held his face, warm against your icy fingers, and felt stubble there – he clearly hadn’t been looking after himself either. He looked shattered in every sense.

“I didn’t mean it, all that shit I said. I want you with me, always. Please, don’t leave me Jack, please, please…”

He kissed your forehead and you felt a teardrop land there, “I’m righ’ here. I’m no’ goin’ anywhere, I promise.” You looked up to see him sobbing too.

“What are you doing here?” you whispered, curious.

“I’ve been here every night. At first I just wanted to come and sit, and think. But I guess I’ve been waitin’ for ye, hopin’ ye’d come back too.”

“I called you… so many times.”

He nodded sadly, “I couldn’t bear to hear yer voice. I thought ye were going to tell me ye wanted to end it for good, or ask me to move my stuff out. I thought if I didn’t pick up then I could cling onto ye for a little longer. I know it’s daft…” His head dropped, but you slipped your fingers beneath his chin and pushed him to meet your eyes again. “When I heard yer voicemail, listening to ye, Y/N, I crumbled.”

You hovered your lips above his, brushing against them ever so softly. You felt him sigh into you, and you kissed him, tenderly.

“I want you, for the rest of my life,” you breathed.

“It’s no’ gonnae get any easier.”

“I don’t care. If the last few days have shown me anything, it’s that I don’t want to live in a world where you aren’t mine. The tough times are worth it for how happy you make me. For better or for worse, right?”

He smiled into your neck before kissing you there. “Right… I love ye.”

You kissed him again and smiled, “I love you too.”

anonymous asked:

Donna finds Harvey whilst he’s having a panic attack in his office that came out of now where. Btw, love your stories!

Note: Sorry it’s not Halloweeny! I’ll endeavour to write a prompt tomorrow for Halloween. 

Breathless 1/1

He held the letter in his hands, the crisp paper like an iron weight between his fingers; that raw need to crumple it’s existence bending under the feeling of he vice like grip against his chest that stilling the impulse to a dull whim. His eyes bulged, the low light of the poignantly empty office swaying into a blur of orange and white tones around him, his heart beating fast in bass notes inside the back of his skull, pressing a sharp tightness onto the underside of his eyes, as he blinked slowly against the feint gaussian blur of sheer, unwashed panic.

Time slowed down into half moments, the words on paper freezing in his mind’s eye…

~I need to be loved back, Harvey.

I need more.

And if you’re not that person for me, then I need to go searching for that person.

Jessica has given me an ‘out’.

I’m going to take it.

And I need you to let me go.

But I will always love you.


Keep reading

Every Life has a Moment ~Olicity Fic 5/5

Well first of all I can’t thank my amazing Tumblr family enough for the heaps of endless support. I’m truly in awe of this talented fandom. I’m also completely honored that so many of you think I’m one of you talented souls. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart! 

Read it here or on AO3

You’re My Moment

Chapter 5

Present day… 

The rain pelted against the stained glass of the foyer angrily, the sky shook with thunderous rage before it became lit from the endless streaks of lightning. She slowly began her silent count….the room around her grew dark, the clock behind her ticked, the fingers along its face moved steadily, the clouds outside grew steadily darker…

Her mouth curved, her bottom up formed a small U while her upper lip mirrored the other. She felt the vibration of the storm racing through her veins. The rain was her blood, the thunder her heart and the lightning her soul. Felicity breathed deeply just as the sky roared…

“You still do that?” came a quiet voice from the doorway behind her still form. 

Her smile was small but earnest in nature, “Yeah, why don’t you do things to ease your nerves? she asked just when the sky grew bright. ‘

The voice behind her grew closer; the tenor grew soft and, the inflection hopeful. “I do, but generally I don’t have to wait for a massive thunder storm to decompress.” 

Felicity’s laugh was one of honest amusement, “Peanut you like your brother have a way with words.” 

“He’s also your husband…” she teased lightly then added softly, “Even if mom and dad don’t yet know it…” 

Felicity’s shoulders fell just as Thea’s words washed away the peace of the approaching storm. “Are you and Ollie really going to pretend you didn’t get married almost a year ago?” 

She shook her bent head and raised her hands into the air above her bent head, “I knew he couldn’t lie to you…” she merely noted with amused knowledge. “I knew he’d crack the moment he saw your sweet smile,” she laughed mostly to herself. 

“Please you would have cracked even faster,” she scolded with the grace of her mother. 

Keep reading

Winter’s Child PART 2

Missiya was a problem, she cried for the majority of the night, refusing to stop unless the soldier picked her up and held her against his chest, then she would be fascinated by pulling at his harness, or chewing on the buckles. She would grab fistfuls of his hair and at one point he was trying to dissuade her from sucking on his chin. He had been holding her in his right arm whilst he opened the fridge with his left, staring into it with little interest – he relied on the handlers to provide him food and now he was going to have to remember how to cook. Winter had been half way to reaching for bread when a wet hiccup made him freeze, his jaw clenched in disgust as he turned his head down to see milky baby vomit rolling down his sleeve and chest, ’…I hate you.’ Missiya giggled and pat his cheek.

Winter put her down, unfastened his tactical gear and pulled the leather from his body, flinging it to the corner in disgust. ‘You think this is funny?’ She clapped her hands and bounced excitedly, oblivious to his ire and not comprehending that his glare was not friendly. 'Just sleep. Go to sleep and stay that way so I can work.’ He needed to eat, he had to prepare for the next phase of the mission and she was sabotaging his every effort. Winter snatched up the remote on the table and turned the television on, he didn’t watch it usually, it was always background noise for him whilst his handlers watched it, he flicked through the channels until he found something vaguely colourful and childlike – some sort of purple hippo or…dinosaur? 'Learn how to count or something.’ Winter tossed the remote back down once her eyes were glued to the screen and headed back to the kitchen, shoving a piece bread in his mouth and staring into the fridge at all the food he didn’t want or even recognise.
He didn’t usually have to provide himself sustenance and so the task frustrated him, took him away from his mission and made him think. Pulling out a cardboard box with a picture of lasagne on the front he pulled the meal out and pierced the film lid before tossing it into the microwave – a chorus of “I love you, You love me, we’re one big family” from the strange animal he now knew to be named Barney made him wish he’d just followed orders.

He spent the rest of the dark hours eating rubbery food, listening to people dressed as primary colours sing at him and cleaning his rifle as Missiya lay asleep along the outside of his thigh. When the sun began to peek through the dusty windows he picked the baby up and headed toward an empty room, she slept peacefully against his chest, her thumb stuffed into her mouth and a peaceful expression that made Winter want to hold her a little longer. Instead he placed her on the bed against the wall and used his body to block her from falling off the other side – he never moved in his sleep so he had no fear of rolling onto her. He doubted she would give him enough rest but he was asleep before he could truly gripe about it.


Missiya had allowed the Soldier four hours of sleep before she woke up screaming, desperate to be fed and her nappy wet against her delicate skin. He changed her and fed her before falling back onto the sofa with her on his lap, Winter switched the television onto the cartoons and leaned his head against the back of the sofa to try and catch a little more sleep whilst Missiya was distracted. His mind went through his mission, the building he needed to infiltrate, where he would have to set himself up to take his target’s life, a single shot from the sniper rifle would be sufficient and then he could escape without a soul ever knowing he was there – a ghost.
Though he knew he was running low on supplies for the baby and he backtracked his escape route so that he would pass by a baby shop… But it was cold outside and she would need warmer clothing before he left on the mission.

That was how HYDRA’s deadliest weapon ended up walking through the aisles of a baby store, a worn pair of jeans – loose enough to slip his knives into – and a black hoodie hiding as much of him as he could. Several people stared at the hooded figure, his presence was menacing but when the baby in his left arm giggled and babbled they felt a little more at ease. Blue eyes shifted left and right often, surveying the area as he picked up nappies, baby formula and food, a woman had chastised him already for buying milk powder for Missiya’s age, then he stared at clothes for so long that one of the assistants braved getting close, 'Can…I help you, Sir?’

Winter clenched his jaw and shifted Missiya in his arm before speaking quietly, 'Warm clothes, easy to put on.’ The young woman asked if he had a preferred price range and at a shake of his head she rushed about the racks, grabbing onesies, socks, shoes, tiny little mittens and anything she could get her hands on really until he told her to stop. He was almost through paying when a wet hiccup alerted him to the baby’s favourite trick of being sick down his back.

'She’s one of those kids then?’ The woman smiled and put something in his bag, 'It’s for after you feed her, saved having to wash your clothes so often… Are you burping her properly?’ Winter’s eyebrows scrunched up in confusion and she continued, 'New dad, right? Some babies like their backs rubbed, some are more into patting, she’s a little big to get reflux like that but it’s not unusual in formula fed babies – you should really wean her off -’

'Thank you.’ Winter interrupted and made his escape before she really got into a lecture. He returned to the safe house, changing into his tactical gear and then dressing Missiya, slightly horrified at the fuchsia onesie with a hood and floppy bunny ears. It was thick and warm, he was confident she wouldn’t be cold as he packed nappies, an extra blanket and food into his rifle bag. With her safely in her carrier the Winter Soldier began his next mission – baby at his side.


Winter was still as death as he lay on his front in the cramped ceiling space of an old building, a few squatters had seen him but they said nothing as he climbed up into a vent with a baby. He was covered in a fine spray of frost, fingers felt numb but he knew his pressure on the trigger was perfect, his vision never faltered from the lens of his rifle – the only thing he moved was his foot. Tipping the baby carrier in a gentle rocking motion that kept Missiya in her peaceful slumber, there was an ache in his ankle from the repetitive up and down.

When his target had finally arrived at the designated spot Winter followed him carefully and waited. Waited for a clear shot, unconsciously avoiding collateral victims until finally… Finally he pulled back the trigger.

One shot.

One body.

He packed his equipment quickly and efficiently, gently tucking the baby back into her blanket before vanishing from the scene of the crime and melting into the crowds like a ghost.


@thiddlestoff @addalaidehoran @lostinspace33 @lilasiannerd @loverbug1123

A War Fought at Home : Chapter 6

Corporal Natsu Dragneel has been through Hell, and unfortunately for him, the ride isn’t quite over. How will a new Rehab program at the local VA help? And will a certain blonde help make matters better?

Modern Military AU. Warnings for mentions of depression and adult language/situations. Other warnings to come as the story progresses. Cross post on AO3 and

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

“–THE FUCK?! So you just offered up our house?!”

In all honesty, Gray had every right to be upset. It wasn’t like Natsu had given away the last of their beer or something, he’d offered their spare bedroom to a seemingly random college girl! The two Marines had at one time discussed the possibility of renting out that room sometime in the future, but that plan had always been dependent on Natsu and his progress.

“If I didn’t, she’d have to drop out and move back to Acalypha, Ice Dick,” Natsu replied as he wheeled himself over to the sink to drop his dishes in the sink, his voice taking on a somewhat whiny tone against his will. At least he had waited until they were home to drop the bomb. He had brought it up over dinner, initially causing the Sergeant to choke on his pasta, but eventually Gray had gathered enough rage to just let Natsu have it.

“And this is our problem how…?” Gray snapped, immediately beginning to wash the dishes, handing the dripping ones down to Natsu for drying.

“Because she’s nice and deserves help?” What else was he supposed to say? Oh, she needs to move in with us so I don’t have to say goodbye to the one female that doesn’t look at me like a puppy in a cone collar? Natsu shook his head and sighed. “Come on. It’s only for a year until she graduates.” He racked his brain for any other argument he could muster. A thought came to mind but it was the cheapest move in the book. “Maybe she has cute friends that like guys in uniform?”

Keep reading

All You See Are Sympathetic Eyes (original work)

His Toyota Corolla makes a series of unpleasant noises as he turns into the driveway - the squeal of a steering pump followed by the grinding crunch of suspension rods getting ready to energetically vacate their mounting bolts.  He’d had this delivery job for only two years now, and already doubled the mileage on his car, and odds were great it wasn’t going to last much longer.

Keep reading

Panic! At The Apartment

Request: Could you do another Ryan Ross imagine where you’re friends with everyone in panic! but for some reason you don’t like Ryan and everyone else eventually has enough and locks you both in a room or closet to sort it out and at first you don’t cooperate but then you start talking and spend hours bonding and you don’t even realise they unlocked the door?

A/N- An opportunity to write about Ryan Ross will never be turned down. I went with this concept, but added a little creative twist to it. I hope you enjoy! REQUESTS ARE OPEN! If you liked this, please be sure to let us know! 

“Ross, why don’t you fucking watch where you’re going?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. With such a big ego, anyone could bump into you, so am I really at fault?”

You glared at Ryan Ross. That was the third time he had accidentally bumped into you, and you were sick of it.

“Listen, I am so sick of your melodramatic-”

“Guys! Holy shit, can’t you get along for two seconds?” Brendon looked at the two of you, sighing and running a hand through his hair, “We can’t all hang out together peacefully for more than three minutes”

“Well, Bren, that’s because you decided to invite Y/N.”

You scoffed. “Excuse me? Anywhere we go there’s always a problem with the sensitive Ryan Ross. Oh no! They didn’t give the poor baby enough ketchup for his fucking French fries! Lets through a giant fit!

“They didn’t! They think a drop the size of my thumb will last for an entire basket?!”

You groaned. “Oh god, there he goes again.”

Spencer sighed from where he was sitting on the couch. “All you do is bicker, bicker, bicker.”

“Maybe we should just force them to sit in a room long enough to spew all their insults so that by the time we cut them loose, we’ll all have one less headache.” Jon chimed in, obviously joking.

You glared at him then glanced over at Brendon who had that look on his face. It meant no good.

“Don’t you think for a second that I am going to go anywhere near him by myself, Urie.”

Ryan shook his head quickly and took a step back from you. “That goes for me, too. Hell will freeze over before I go anywhere near Y/N.”

Brendon sighed and looked at the other two guys of Panic! who were obviously getting sick of the constant fighting too. Ever since you could remember, you and Ryan were always at it, finding a new way to insult the other, or the smallest thing to debate. You had no problem with Brendon or Jon or Spencer. They were nice guys, and always very welcoming. But something about Ryan rubbed you in all the wrong ways, and something about you rubbed him in even worse ways. No one could get the other to cooperate.

The simple solution was to stop inviting you to any functions, but you had grown up with the guys. Ever since they had a following of about ten people, you were the first. When something career changing happened, you were always the first to get the call. And you loved it. You just didn’t love Ryan.

“You know what? I think I’m just going to head home.” You sighed, looking at the three members you could actually get along with, smiling slightly. “It’s been a long day.”

Spencer looked over at Ryan who just shrugged, and then stood up, pulling you into a hug. “Okay, take care, have a nice drive home.”

You smiled and hugged him back, nodding. Jon hugged you soon after, followed by Brendon who squeezed you so tight that he lifted you off your feet for a few brief seconds.

“We still on for tomorrow?” He asked, his eyes bright.

You smiled softly and nodded. “Of course. I’ll be at your place, say around four?” Brendon was planning on moving out of his small apartment and into his new home that he had recently made the leap in purchasing. You were going to help him pack everything into identical rectangular cardboard boxes and keep him entertained.

He nodded and gave you a thumbs up. You smiled and put on your jacket, then headed out, being sure to give Ryan a death glare on your way out. He readily returned the favor.

“Okay guys, here’s the plan.” Brendon gathered Spencer and Jon in a circle after Ryan had left to go feed his cat. “Jon, you were onto something. I’m beyond convinced we won’t get them to cooperate unless we get them in the same room together, and they actually talk.”

Jon looked at him with a quizzical expression. “Well, how in the hell are we going to do that? They can barely stand five feet away from each other. There’s no way we’re going to fool them into a closet to play seven minutes in heaven or some shit.”

Spencer was quiet for a moment before looking at Brendon. “Not unless they don’t know they’re walking into the trap.”

“I love that look on your face. What are you implying?” Brendon sat up a little.

“Say, Ryan helps you pack and move out of your apartment too? You invite him an hour earlier, right? Tell him he can leave as soon as Y/N arrives. Then text Y/N that there’s been a change of plans. Y/N still has a key to your place right?”

Brendon nodded a small smirk on his face. “Y/N gets there while I conveniently go fetch Ry and I some drinks, so when she unlocks the door, Ryan is inside and I’m not there.”

Spencer grinned excitedly and nodded. Jon looked between the two of them and laughed slightly. “Well, if you guys are legitimately serious about this, I know a guy who could manipulate your lock so it only opens from the outside.”

“You’re my man, Walker. I could kiss you right now.” Brendon grinned and slapped him on the back. “‘So what are we waiting for?! Let’s do this.”

You knocked on the door once, twice, three times. And still no answer. Sighing, you fished for the key to Brendon’s apartment. “God damn it, Urie. You make me come early, and don’t even have the decency to open the door.”

Rolling your eyes fondly with the image of Brendon getting too distracted from finding a knick knack he collected years ago to come to the door, you unlocked the door, walking in and hanging your coat, then closing the door.

“Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?”                                

Your blood immediately boiled as you heard his voice. You turned, and to your unfortunate surprise, there he was, Ryan Ross sitting on the floor of the nearly empty apartment. “The question is what the hell are you doing here? And where’s Brendon?”

“I was told he needed extra help,” He shrugged, looking at his watch on his skinny wrist, “You’re not supposed to be here for another hour. Brendon went out to get us a couple of drinks.”

You frowned and looked at him. “You mean to tell me Brendon isn’t here?”

He shook his head.

“But I could have sworn he said he need- oh no…” Immediately you went to the door and tried to open it. To your dismay, it wouldn’t budge. You groaned loudly.

“What are you on about, Y/N?” Ryan furrowed his eyebrows and walked over to the door and tried to open it. When it wouldn’t budge he smirked and turned the lock. “Maybe if you had a brain you would have tried unlocking it first.” Again, he tried to open it and it didn’t budge.

“You were saying?” You glared at him, stepping back from the door. Just then Ryan’s phone began ringing. He sighed in relief and held it up. “It’s Bren.”

“Well, what are you waiting for then?! Pick it up!”

Ryan made a face then picked up the phone. “Hello? What? Why? Okay fine… give me a second.” He pulled the phone away from his ear and clicked a button on the screen.


“Brendon?!” You immediately rushed towards the phone and took it from Ryan. “What the fuck is this?”

“You’ve just been punk’d! But no seriously. We’re locking you in the apartment. Get along will you? Also maybe pack for me. That still needs to be done. Oh, and don’t try to escape. We covered all the windows and doors. Have fun! Love you!”

And with that, he hung up. You stood there in shock for a moment as Ryan snatched the phone back. “I can’t believe this. They didn’t fucking do this to me. I swear, I’m leaving those fuckers as soon as they let me out.”

You glared at him. “You fucking say that three times a week, you’re not fucking leaving.”

“Well maybe I might this time.” He shook his head and sat back down on the couch. “I mean seriously, out of all the people in the god damn world, they chose you. I can’t stand this.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re sitting then.” You smirked slightly, then sighed. “Fuck, I don’t want to be here.”

“You think I do?”

“Oh god, please just shut up Ross, you’re giving me headache. That voice is the most annoying thing in the world.”

“The most annoying thing in the world is you constantly stating the obvious. I have a fucking brain you know.”

“Oh yeah?” You glared at him, then sat down in front of a box and a bunch of belongings that were supposed to be neatly packed into it. “Is it the size of a pea? Because I’ve been wondering for ages.”

Ryan rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Oh put a god damn sock in it.”

You scoffed and shook your head, then started neatly stacking things into the box as the pansy just sat there and watched. After a while, he stated calmly. “There’s no way in hell you’re going to get all that in there if you do it like that.”

You looked up at him. “You’re not doing anything to help, so maybe just shut up so I can get this done and we can get out of here.”

He smirked and shrugged. “Continue, by all means.”

15 minutes later

“God damn it.” You sighed and started unpacking everything again. “Don’t even say it, Ross, or I will use a kitchen knife to cut your tongue out.”

Ryan couldn’t help but laugh and finally got off the couch and knelt down next to you. “You need to put the big stuff in first then tuck the smaller shit in the little nooks.” He took the current item in your hand and placed it in the box at an angle that didn’t take too much room.

You sat back and watched him carefully. “And when did you become the expert on packing?”

“In case you were too busy focusing on yourself, I live my life on the road. I have to be good at packing to survive.”

“Well… fuck you.” You sighed and handed him another object as he smirked smugly and put it in the box. Together, you managed to finish the box in less than ten minutes.

“Well, looks like you are actually good at one thing, Ross.” You muttered quietly.

He just laughed and shook his head. “Come on, I’m good at everything.”

Two hours later

“That’s the last of Brendon’s shit. All that’s left are the couches and that ugly kitchen table.”

You looked at Ryan and laughed slightly. “So, I’m not the only one who thinks it’s horrendous?”

“Oh god no. It doesn’t even match the chairs. Sometimes I wonder what goes through that man’s head.”

You laughed and shook your head, “That makes two of us, Ross.”

Smirking, he sat back down on the couch. “And my question was, the other two were with them. How in the hell did they not stop him? That thing is an atrocity. Not even Spencer stopped him! It’s beyond me.”

“Looks like everyone but the two of us have good taste in kitchen furniture.” You pushed Ryan’s legs off the couch and sat down next to him. “Never in a million years would I subject house guests to that thing.”

He sat up a little straighter and laughed. “Hey, you’re actually kind of funny, Y/N. Who the fuck knew?”

You rolled your eyes and shifted slightly on the couch, frowning slightly at an uneven spot in the cushion. You turned slightly and lifted it up to reveal a sock with little aliens printed on them. Ryan immediately lit up and took it from you. “Holy shit! I’ve been looking for this for the past year!”

You gave him a look that suggested you weren’t very impressed, but he only laughed. “This is the other sock to my favorite pair of socks! I lost it, but I figured I’d left it in a shady hotel room somewhere in Ohio.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re seriously that excited about a fucking sock. Oh my god, Ross.”

“Well, what else is there to be excited about?! I’m sitting in Brendon’s shitty apartment with that nasty table and I’m stuck with you. Bless this sock!” His voice had taken a more playful tone, so you only smirked softly and shook your head.

Thirty minutes later

“All I’m saying is I don’t think that’s how an actual alien would look like. You think any life source out there would be smart enough to let the simple human race see what they really look like and depict them on socks? No fucking way!”

Ryan glared playfully at you and shook his head. “Well, I think you’re wrong. My socks are perfect. And if aliens don’t look like this, it’s all a lie.”

“Hey, now that we have a sock, I can actually put it in your mouth to shut you up!” You looked at him, grinning slightly. “Only take it out once you realize how right I am.”

“Watch it. I happen to know you’re ticklish. I’ve seen Jon tickle you.”

You gasped dramatically, mocking him from before. “You mean, you actually pay attention to something more than yourself?”

And with that, Ryan Ross did something you never thought would happen. He started to tickle you.

An hour later

“Do you think Brendon was smart enough to leave us food?”

“No, but Spencer probably was.” Ryan got up with a wink and headed to the kitchen. He grinned in delight and called out. “We’re in luck! Chinese takeout with our names on it!”

You laughed and walked into the kitchen standing right behind him and placing your chin on his shoulder. “Well, at least Spencer doesn’t have bad taste in food.”

Ryan grinned and shook his head slightly, glancing at you. “Oh no, this was definitely Jon’s doing. He probably feels the worst about locking us up.”

You laughed and nodded. “Good point. Put that in the microwave. I’m starving.”

When the food was finally ready, you both ate straight out of the box and continued your conversation. The last two hours and forty five minutes hadn’t been as bad as expected. Ryan was actually incredibly smart. Something you hadn’t realized since you’d never actually held a conversation with him. He could talk about anything and put it in a way you had never thought of before. His mind worked in the way that no one else’s did. Suddenly, you began to understand every song he had written. Every little comment he said. It all started to click and he didn’t seem like quite an ass anymore.

You sat back on the couch and looked at him. “So tell me, Ryan Ross. What’s your biggest fear?”

He looked at you for a moment then took a moment to think about it and nodded. “Being forgotten.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah. I don’t know. It’s stupid really. Growing up, I had a pretty shitty father. The attention I did get wasn’t all that positive. If it weren’t for Spencer, I wouldn’t have made it out.”

You nodded slightly, recalling that Ryan and Spencer had been close for ages. “Yeah… I get that. That’s kind of me and Brendon.”

He looked at you and smiled. “When we meet Brendon, and then went through Brent, and found Jon, everything just kind of fell into place for me. I found somewhere I belonged, somewhere I could make an impact. Somewhere someone actually gave a damn about what I had to say. And then I became Ryan Ross of Panic! At The Disco. If someone were to forget that… or me… well, I don’t know. It’s not exactly a nice thought.”

You nodded a bit, quiet for a moment, and then said, with a smile. “Well, if it’s worth anything, you’re too annoying to forget.”

He chuckled and looked at you, nodding. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

You couldn’t help but smile and nod. The rest of the night was spent with conversations like those. Without the distraction of the phones, that had run out of battery a while ago, and with Brendon’s fun stuff packed into not as fun boxes, all you could do was talk. But you weren’t complaining. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

You found out you both liked similar stuff and were annoyed by the same stuff the guys did, and by the time Brendon decided to let you out, you didn’t even notice the door open.

“Erm… guys?” You both looked up to see Brendon standing at the door with a wide smile on his face.

You groaned playfully and finally got up. “Thank God, I was about to murder him.”

“Hey! That’s my best friend!” Spencer grinned, walking into the room.

Ryan laughed and winked at him.

“You’re welcome for the food by the way.” Jon walked in shortly after, smirking softly. “They wanted to get you shady sandwiches from that suspicious restaurant down the street.”

“Jon Walker, you are my hero.” You laughed and pulled him into a hug. Soon enough, all the boys joined you in the hug, and when you felt Ryan’s arm around your waist, you didn’t complain.

“Oh, by the way, Bren, thanks for stealing my fucking sock. It took ages to for me to find it.”

“Hey… woah, woah, woah, Ross. I found it.”

“You did not. I sat on the right side of the couch for you to find it on the left. Duh.”


“Guys, I swear if this whole stunt was for noth-”

“Y/N, mind continuing this debate over coffee tomorrow?”

You couldn’t help but laugh and nod. “I’d be honored, Ross.”

36 & 41 for Dean Gray, as requested by Megs (liberties have been taken, fite me)

“You’re so mean.” Nadine was pouting shamelessly, giving her very best puppydog eyes.

“No I’m not,” Grayson countered immediately, and the eyes might have worked better if he’d taken his off the road. “I am a reasonable person, dealing with unreasonable circumstances. Put your legs down.”

Nadine continued to pout, and kept her legs curled up in the passenger seat, resting her chin on on her knees. “You hate me,” she asserted, made almost entirely out of melodrama by weight.

“I don’t hate you,” he said, and one hand left the wheel to push her knees down. “If we get into an accident with you like that, the air bags will snap your neck.”

“So don’t get into an accident,” she said, crossing her legs.

“I wish I could hate you,” he said, not even acknowledging her suggestion. “Do you have any idea how much easier my life would be if I hated you? You’d be in jail, for one thing. You would have been in jail a long time ago. I could finally get some fucking work done. I would finally know peace. I would achieve fucking nirvana in the silence of your incarceration.”

“You could have just left me at the beach,” she pointed out. “Would it make you feel better if you pretended the beach was jail?”

“Not even a little bit the same,” he said, and she chewed absently on her thumbnail. “In jail I would know you were being watched. You definitely wouldn’t be wandering around the fucking shoreline wearing — whatever the hell this is supposed to be.” He gestured irritably to all of her.

“It’s a beach shirt dress.” The hem was high on her thighs, the neckline low enough that it went well below her breasts. One wrong move and it might fall off her shoulder and leave her topless.

“I am ninety-nine percent sure you’re supposed to be wearing a swimsuit under that.”

“But I swim naked, so, in a way—”

Keep reading

Lookalike - CHAPTER 3

The closure of the working day couldn’t come fast enough. When Dwight returned to relieve Marilyn and the rest of them of their duties it was like a small stampede away from the gardens.

The rollover to early evening was taking place though the humidity of the day lingered as the sun said its final farewells to another long, hot day.

Marilyn made her way to her locker where another group of women were waiting with white, cotton bags.

“Hurry up and change,” one of them demanded. “We have to get the dirty laundry down the hall.”

Marilyn was more than eager to get out of her sweaty, dirty clothes. She quickly stripped down and threw on the pair of shorts and a tank top that she had changed out of that morning.

“Here you go.” Marilyn tossed her work clothes into one of the bags and then made her way back to her locker at the far end of the room.

“Want to grab some food together?” Nina asked.

“Yeah… I’m going to wash up in the back and I’ll meet you there.”

Her friend gave her the thumbs up and then shut her locker before hurrying away with the rest of the women.

Marilyn’s stomach growled and she felt like it had a mind of its own, encouraging her to skip cleaning up to go down to the mess hall.

She ignored it for the moment and was about to head to the back of the locker room but froze in place when she heard Negan’s voice.

“Anybody still in here?” He shouted, his voice echoing off the walls.

Marilyn swallowed hard and then closed her locker shut when her vocal chords betrayed her. She hurried across the room toward the door where Negan stood just a step or two outside.

“Anyone in there?” He asked again as she was about to pass him by.

“No.” She shook her head, fully prepared to put her head down and keep walking.

“I’m not fuckin’ rushing you out doll,” Negan assured her. “Just making sure my men wouldn’t be invading anyone’s privacy when I send ‘em in here to fuckin’ clean in a few minutes.”

“Oh… okay.” Marilyn nodded and hated herself for not having the ability to find the right words.

Negan took in her posture and the downward look of her eyes and decided to break the tension a bit. “I don’t think I’ve ever formally introduced myself to you,” he began. When Marilyn straightened up and looked him in the eye he continued. “You’re Marilyn.”

Her eyebrows lifted and she nodded. “That’s right. I live up on the-”

“Third floor of the old brick building,” Negan finished the sentence. “I know.” He locked his eyes on hers, holding her firmly in place. Marilyn felt butterflies begin to dance around in her stomach.

“Well that’s right you know everything.” The second the sentence left Marilyn’s mouth she wanted to take it back and hoped it didn’t sound snotty, as that wasn’t at all her intention.

Negan stared at her for a moment and then let a slow grin spread across his face.

“I didn’t mean-” she began but he stopped her with a hand up.

“You, uh… why don’t you come with me for a minute.” Negan’s eyes scanned the empty locker room and he stepped away from the door to allow it to close as they made their way into the hallway.

Marilyn felt like her whole body was numb. She didn’t know what to say or how to feel. She hoped that her words, that could have easily been mistaken for a snide remark, weren’t about to get her in trouble.

“Negan, I didn’t mean that the way it came out,” she told him, thinking to herself that she was probably digging herself deeper into a hole.

Negan walked a step ahead of her and she could tell he was grinning but she didn’t know why.

“Hey!” He called to a man with a mop and bucket up ahead. “Don’t go in the women’s changing room yet. Wait until I fuckin’ get back here.”

“Yes sir.” The man nodded and Negan pushed through a steel, gray door at the end of the hall that made way to the outside.

He stood there holding it open and Marilyn stared at him for a moment.

“After you.” He grinned, pressing a hand flat on the door.

“Thank you.” She took a deep breath and headed outside. Worries shot through her mind - where is he taking me? Am I in trouble? Will Nina see us walking together across the Sanctuary and have something to say? The latter was the least of her concerns.

Negan turned to look at her once as they went and Marilyn matched his stare but neither of them said anything. Finally the two of them rounded into an area out front, a place that people often called the loading dock because new supplies were often carted in from the trucks there.

There was no one in sight and the area was nearly pitch black until Negan flung open the bay of a big, black truck. A orange-yellow light illuminated the interior, which was filled with a collection of items from cans of soup to military-style guns.

“Last load of the day,” Negan informed her, “My men are going to take of this one right after they fill their fuckin’ stomachs.”

Marilyn gazed at the collection in the truck. “Wow…” she looked at him, “Would you like me to get a head start on it? I can-”

Negan laughed, making her stop what she was saying. “No honey that’s fine.” He turned and looked into her eyes with an ear to ear grin. “You’ve had a long enough day out in that fuckin’ sun.” He hopped up into the back of the truck and extended his hand. “Come on.”

Marilyn placed her foot in the setting and grabbed his hand before hoisting her body up into the back.

Negan put his other hand on her back to guide her in as she struggled for a second to keep her balance.

When she regained control she looked at him, his face only a few inches from hers and was thankful for the darkness because her face grew suddenly hot.

“You okay?” Negan asked, purposely not putting any distance between them.

“Yeah.” Marilyn nodded. “Clumsy.” She let out a quick, quiet laugh and found her wits again when he released her. She looked the boxes up and down. “So this is what you borrow from the Hilltop?” She emphasized the word borrow and was pleased when Negan returned a grin.

“I like to fuckin’ think of it as stealing actually,” he joked.

Marilyn smirked and folded her arms across her chest.

“You girls don’t have towels and shit down there do you?” He crossed the way in between stacks of boxes.

“No,” she answered honestly. “Not in the wash room.”

“Well that doesn’t make much fuckin’ sense now does it?” Negan shuffled through a few of the boxes before he found what he was looking for. “Here… this is filled with that shit. Take it back to the locker room. I’ll have the laundry staff throw the dirty towels in every day with the rest of the shit.”

“Thank you,” Marilyn gushed with a nod. “That’s… great.” She looked more directly at him. “I appreciate it and I know the rest of them will too.”

Negan’s eyes never left hers and the moment grew into an awkward silence until he walked to the edge of the truck and jumped to the ground. “Hand the box down.”

Marilyn walked to the edge and passed him the box of towels before she reached for his hands to help her down this time.

“You need me to fuckin’ carry this shit or you think you got it?” he asked when they were both back on the ground.

“I’ve got it,” she assured him with a nod. “You’ve done more than enough. Thank you.”

Negan nodded and she felt the same butterflies as he stood there with the stare that seemed to pierce her soul. When she stared back without saying a word for several seconds he nodded at her a second time. “What?” he asked.

“Huh?” Her hands tightened around the cardboard box.

“You look like you have something you want to fuckin’ say.”

Marilyn shook her head. “No, I…” She got lost in her words for a moment when she saw his eyes moving back and forth as if he was quiet literally reading her like a book.

“Say it,” Negan urged.

She didn’t know what he was expecting to come out of her mouth but she couldn’t look away from his eyes. “Um…” Marilyn cleared her throat. “Your eyes have a little green in them.”

What? she screamed the word at herself in her mind. What the hell is the matter with you? Your eyes have a little green in them? Marilyn wanted to collapse onto the ground in embarrassment.

Negan blinked and looked down, completely taken off-guard. He huffed a laugh, looked her in the eye once more and then turned and walked away without saying a word.

Tim Drake didn’t want to knock on the door, so he stood outside, alone in the hallway, staring at the floorboards. One minute, two minutes, five— He’d be ready soon. He could do this.
Just one more minute to collect himself, then he would go inside.
Of course, one minute didn’t make it any easier to breathe around the tightness in his chest. It didn’t loosen his shoulders or stop his hands from shaking, but it gave him enough time to plaster a smile across his face. He tapped on the door.
Almost immediately, a young woman pulled it open. “Tim?”
“I’m Joey.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“You too.” She pushed nervously at her blond hair. “Do you want to come in?”
No. He nodded anyway and stepped inside the door.
And there it was: Dick’s old apartment. Tim stood on the threshold for a few seconds, taking it in— just your average, low-rent living space with a tiny kitchen and a smudged window pane. There was a couch in the corner (Tim had to push back the image of Dick lounging across it, upside down, the way he always did), and a few chairs propped around a coffee table. At least it was up high. Dick would have liked that.
A young man appeared from the hallway with a stack of cardboard boxes— he set them on the coffee table and held out a hand. “Hey, I’m Michael.”
“I hope it’s okay that we called,” said Joey. “It’s just that we’ve got another renter coming in, and you were the first person on his contacts list, so…”
“So we figured you would want his stuff,” Michael finished. “He didn’t leave that much, honestly, but it’s here if you want it. We haven’t disturbed his room since… well, you know.”
Tim did know, thanks.
“Anyway,” said Joey. “I’ll um, show you where…” She trailed off, gesturing down the hallway. “It’s back here.”
Tim followed her to an open doorway. “We’ve got some boxes if you want to use those,” she told him. “I think there’s a duffel bag in there already.”
“If you want a hand, Michael and I would be happy to help out.”
“That’s okay,” said Tim. “I think I’d prefer to be alone.”
“Right, great.” Joey was halfway back to the kitchen when she turned around. “Listen, if you don’t mind me asking— Did you know? About the Nightwing thing?”
“Oh.” Tim ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, of course. That’s actually how I met him.” More or less, anyway.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah.” Tim had to struggle to keep his voice steady. “Anyway, I’ll just—” He stepped inside the room and pulled the door closed behind him.
The first thing he noticed was the bed— unmade with the sheets strewn everywhere, pushed to the bottom, falling off the edges. One of Alfred’s good pillowcases was wrapped around a tangled lump of pillow— Dick must have lifted that from the manor before he left the city. The hilt of a knife was poking out from underneath it.
There was a pile of folded clothes sitting on the dresser with a laptop balanced precariously on top and a stack of coupons lying next to it. Red numbers blinked from a clock on the night stand— Tim wondered if the alarm still went off every morning, in the empty room with no one to turn it off. The duffle bag was lying on the floor.
There wasn’t much else.
Tim stood inside the door, breathing deeply. Come on, Drake, pull yourself together. It was just an abandoned apartment. He could be in and out in twenty minutes if he hurried.
Alternatively, it wouldn’t hurt to rest for a few seconds. Tim sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled the laptop onto his knees. It lit up immediately when he opened it, asking for a password. The desktop was a picture of Damian.
Oh god. Tim set the computer back on the dresser and sank his head into his hands. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t— One week wasn’t long enough. He should have waited. He should have known better.
But that was his life, wasn’t it? That was his mistake, over and over again. It echoed in his head every time he thought back to last week and the hell it had become. He’d been with the Titans when the screens lit up. They’d watched it together, along with the whole world— His real name is Richard Grayson.
And then he’d panicked. He’d just… run in without a plan, without a second thought, and he’d failed. Dick was dead. He couldn’t save him.
Tim was supposed to have a plan— he always had a plan, but the one time he needed it most…
It wasn’t fair. He’d lost so many people. Why couldn’t he protect them? He was supposed to be smart. He’d been trained by Batman, for Christ’s sake— he should be good enough to save them.
Deep down, Tim always knew it was a lie. No one can live like they do for long— it’s only a matter of time before the odds run out. Every day is a clock, ticking down the hours, the days, the years if you’re lucky, but someday the alarm goes off. Time runs out. They’re all going to die.
Tim wasn’t a praying man, but in that moment, he knew what he would ask. Please let me be next.

1D Plus Sized Series // He Denys Dating You Pt. 3 - Harry (submission) 

part 1 / part 2 

(A couple of months after graduation, say 6 months … Y/N is home for the holiday.)

It’s been months since you’ve seen Harry, you weren’t particularly complaining but you still had moments when you missed him dearly. How he’d look deep into your eyes, how he’d hold your waist when you made him tea in the morning on the weekends. Or when he’d order your favorite dessert at the restaurant you guys always go to right outside of town… And then you remember why you’d go there “No one will recognize us in the country love… It’s just safer that way.” He’d explain solemnly.

You’d just nod at his words in silence. That was the night you began to look at yourself in a different light. You began to really doubt the beauty you were so use to see. You knew you were curvier than the average girl but you loved your body and you loved how Harry would love on your body but that day was the day he made you rethink any type of self love. But it was over now.

Since prom, Harry cut off all ties from you. He deleted your number, blocked you on all social media, and even left a cardboard box of your things on your porch in the rain. Leaving the box soggy with the picture and clothing inside. Even all the poems you wrote each other covering the bottom of the box, which was the first thing ruined. The ink from the paper bleeding into the album of picture you collected over the years, and gave to him on your three year anniversary (which, as cheesy as it was, on valentine’s day). When you picked up the box, carefully, you couldn’t help to choke out a silent sob. He just left it there in the rain, knowing you were home. Your fucking car was parked in the driveway for crying out loud. You looked inside and felt all the love, time, and full-on adoration for a man who just dropped off what your relationship stood for in the rain.

As for Liam, prom night was wonderful. He made you forget about Harry for the time being which you appreciated because after the little fiasco, people kept coming up asking if it was real and then showing the picture and text of you guys. Some felt bad, others thought the photos were just greatly photoshopped, the idiots. You left the prom feeling better than ever even with Liam, he said he’d love to go out with you sometime, which you happily agreed to. But you were still having Harry pain, you hoped he understood, (which he did).

But that was 6 months ago, and now you’re home from college for Thanksgiving and you couldn’t be more happier. You had all of your family around you, you could just feel the love all around. It’s exactly what you needed considering seeing Harry every damn day on campus, flirting and talking to girls. Wrapped around a different one every week. He even joined the most prestigious frat that was known for wired parties and womanizing. I guess you can say he was making up for lost time from the three year relationship with you cause it sure looked like it. You didn’t care honestly. At first of course it was like pouring salt on an open wound. You were mad as fuck but you soon got over it. There were tons of guys at this university for the picking. Not that you were looking in actuality. If it made him happy to be promiscuous, then by all means, enjoy the flock of ladies that want to bone you.

As you helped your mom cook, there was a knock on the door. “Y/N can you please answer that for me?” Your mother asked. You obliged and wiped your hands on you apron and walked to the door. It was Anne with Gemma. You were partly shocked but you cover it with an expression of happiness. “Hi, love how are you?!” Anne greeted, pulling you into a hug. “It’s so nice to see you two!” You admitted moving aside so they can come in further into the house. Suddenly it clicked in your head on how much time your mom and Anne have been spending time together. With Harry and you both being the youngest child, the shared the same anguish of the baby leaving the nest and having an empty house for once in their lives. “Oh Harry’s just getting something from the car, due hold the door for him? Lord knows how clumsy that boy can be.” Gemma giggled while following Anne into the kitchen. You quickly took off your apron and smoothed out the burgundy dress that fit perfectly on your breast and hips and flared out at the bottom. Your dad said the dress was more for cocktail hour rather than pigging out at thanksgiving. And there he was, clad in black jeans and Nike sneakers with a black sweater covering his arms and there was a girl, directly behind him texting away on her phone.

Did this sick bastard bring a date to your house for thanksgiving?!?! What in the actual FUCK?!?!?! You wanted to slam the door right on his face, as he juggled the items in his arms. Your fisted were balled up, and you felt the anger build up. He didn’t even look twice in your direction as he walked past the threshold with his date riding his coattails. You slammed the door and ran up to your room. You grabbed your phone and called your best friend Lydia. She answered it on the first ring. “He’s here Ly, in my house. Down stairs with a fucking DATE! Oh my God, I’m going to kill him.” You ranted pacing the floor in your room. “I thought you didn’t care what he did Y/N…” She answered without missing a beat. You blow out a deep sigh. “Well… I mean. I don’t but, who brings another girl to their ex-girlfriend’s house after a messy breakup?!?! Like we had sex in that very kitchen he’s standing in with that girl! Like right there on the floor!” I basically screamed. I just kept pacing the floor. Growing more and more antsy. “Y/N, you haven’t let his actions get to you for months? Why care now?” Lydia asked matter-of-factly. You knew she was right. You didn’t care then, so why care now. He was just in a closer proximity to you rather than across the quad or lecture hall. You stopped pacing and sat on the bed defeated. “It’s just… I’ve been thinking and reminiscing lately… When I saw him all those emotions, the good and the bad, just flooded into my system and when I saw that girl, I just… I don’t know. You’re right, I should not care at all.” I finished. Laying back on my bed, looking up at the ceiling. “I know I am, now go back down there and enjoy your family, okay? And save me some pie.” She chuckled out. You laughed and hung up.

You walked down stairs and joined everyone in the kitchen. The girl who we’ll call Jane Doe at the moment was sprawled out on Harry’s lap. You smiled to yourself when you seen the seat they were sitting in. You had sex there too you smirked in your head. You walked in next to your mom and got an apron back on and started cutting the veggies. “Y/N, I had no idea he was coming, let alone bringing a date… He was supposed to be at that girl's’ house but there was a change of plans… I’m so sorry…” Your mom whispered in your ear as you cut the carrots while everyone talked among themselves. “It’s fine Mom, honestly.” You smiled and kissed her cheek. “Oh, my litte lady. So mature.” She smiled, kissing your cheek. “So, how are your studies Y/N?” Anne asked making everyone looking at you. “Oh, it’s well thank you. A little nerve wracking because of midterms but still fun nonetheless.” You smiled. “Have you seen Harry around much?” She asked. You looked at Harry was staring you down. “Well, I’ve seen him walking to class and such. And that’s pretty much it.” You shrugged. “So you’ve been looking for me?” Harry smirked causing you to roll your eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself Styles.” You replied dryly. “Well I’ve seen you more than just walking to class love. I’ve seen you in some study halls, some pubs, some very grungy parties…” He trailed off smirking in satisfaction. Like he was releasing some type of confession of your doings in college. “Well if that’s not stalking I don’t know what is…” You spoke, tilting your head looking at him. Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. “Oh, please Y/N your life is not that interesting. Especially without me in it.” He laughed. He was poking jabs. “My life, for one is none of your business, and two, it wasn’t really that great when it did have you in it.” You stated. If he wanted to throw jabs, you were more than happy to throw sass right back. His eyebrow furrowed in anger. It was about to go down. Causing people to slowly leave the kitchen. This needed to happen.

“Oh! So it’s more interesting with who? Fucking Liam Payne!?!” He yelled angrily, pushing the girl off his lap, standing up in front of you. The countertop separating the two of you. “Well it felt nice for someone to dance with me and kiss me in public Harry! That’s interesting! Not having a little boy who’s afraid of some public ridicule due to the person they’ve been dating for three years! I was suppose to be the love of your life but you were scared to even tell your friends that we were together!” You yelled back, becoming more and more heartbroken, more and more angry.

“Oh will you let that go!?! I told you, they wouldn’t understand…” He trailed off. “Oh shove that excuse up your ass Harry! No one cared! And if they did, so what!?! It was us together not them! You say you wanted me all to yourself and how they didn’t understand but what if it was the other way around? What if I pretended to not know you at school? Having some other guy, that was “better looking” than you holding my hand and kissing me? Missing dates because my friends were having a party and I just couldn’t miss it? Chickening out on dates to places in town because i don’t want people to see me with you. Waiting hours and hours for me to show up, even though you know I’m not coming… You don’t know the emotional hurt I went through. The humiliation of waiting at a fancy restaurant on our second anniversary. Seeing you draped over a different girl every week isn’t showing me anything. It’s not making me jealous, it’s furthering my point. You will get girls that are more smaller than I am cause that’s what you think you look good with but not me. You refused me of PDA, the knowing I had someone there to hold hand and kiss me, and tell me they love me in public…” You sobbed looking at Harry who looked gutted. You ran upstairs to your room and cried into you pillow. So much for a relaxing holiday.

-Anonymous Submitter 

p.s. the author may or may not have also submitted a part 4 that i plan on posting in a few days ;)