glass carton

Good Night (Charlie Puth x reader)

Okay, new Charlie Puth imagine. Requested by two anon.


Empty Chinese takeout boxes and bottles sat on the coffee table in front of the tv. Supernatural was on and you and Charlie were snuggled on the couch paying attention to each other a lot more than what was going on with Sam and Dean. Your legs were straddling his hips on the couch, his lips on yours. “We should really-” you were cut off as he placed his lips back on yours. His gentle touches and rough kisses heated the room quickly, and you were both panting for breaths after a few minutes. “I should get going,” you whispered through your heavy breathing, “It’s almost three in the morning.”

“You could stay the night,” he proposed, “It’s too late to go home now. Plus, we’ve been drinking.” I could get an Uber, you thought. “Just stay. I can tell you’re tired,” he told you. After you agreed, you got up and began collecting all of the empty cartons and glasses to put in recycling. He turned off the television and grabbed the few bottles left on the table and followed you to the kitchen. After tidying up, he led the way to his room upstairs, grabbed a large shirt and boxers and tossed them at you. “Use these.” You nodded your head and went into the bathroom to change.

When you exited the bathroom, he was already in bed, waiting. “Come here,” he mumbled, smiling. A cute grin graced your face as you stumbled your way to him before jumping into bed, into his arms. He pulled you into his chest before turning off the light. “Good night,” you mumbled. “Night, Angel,” he whispered before kissing your temple and falling asleep.

Morning Light 

Anon Request: Could you write about dancing/grinding with John boyega in his apartment that leads to a make out session

Words: 1176

With his continuous success, John has learned to appreciate the little things in life.

The comfort of his own bed. The morning light that creeps through the bay windows, which serve as his own personal alarm clock when he doesn’t have to work. Most importantly, he appreciates the smell of breakfast being cooked down the hall.

He finds himself appreciating all of these things as he peeks out of his pillow this morning at the sound of you entering the bedroom.

Keep reading

maybe-blank-willbeyouralways-de  asked:

041 with shance, please?

Lmao, plot, what is plot. 

Hope you like it Yas!!! <3333 This tiny person is also my fave. I have so many faves fuck, they are just so wonderful, ugh, stop being amazing. 

Also, nice choice on the Shance, fuck, I love those babies, ppl need to send me more request about them. 

Disclaimer: Voltron doesn’t belong to me. 


041. “You found me crying on the kitchen floor in the middle of the night surrounded by a shattered jelly jar.”

“You found me crying on the kitchen floor in the middle of the night,” Shiro deadpans, glaring flatly at his giggling boyfriend, “surrounded by a shattered jelly jar.”

“I did, oh my god, yes I did.” Lance laughs, holding his stomach as he shakes with laughter, “And it was the most beautiful thing ever.”

“I was in distress, you jerk.”

“You were high on drugs because of the surgery, babe.” Lance waves him off with a hand, “You  – Oh god  – You were mourning the loss of your precious jelly jar, which you thought it was – hah – ice cream in the first place.”

“It was pink and creamy!” Shiro pouts, crossing his arms over his chest and humming unamused when Lance drops a kiss above his eyebrow. “How was I supposed to see the difference?”

“Uh, evidence number one: ice cream comes in carton, not glass.” Lance reminds, holding one finger up smugly before raising a second one, “Evidence number two: Ice cream is kept in the freezer, not the cupboard.”

“It was dark!” Shiro whines,“My high drugged brain was in grief. We lost a good Jelly Jar that night.”

“Oh yes, yes, we shall do a funeral for poor Mr. Jelly Jar.” Lance chuckles, taking seat on his boyfriend’s lap and wrapping his arms around him, “Okay, but for real, babe, you feeling better?”

Shiro nods, moving his jaw as a proof. “Yeah, having ice cream, you know, real ice cream, as a breakfast really helped soothing the pain on my mouth.”

“Not to mention you ruined our pillow.” Lance chuckles, “Looks like you committed murder in that poor pillow, blood and drool all over it. No way it can be saved.”

“To be fair, I told you to drop me on the couch.” Shiro raises his hands in surrender, “You know that the surgery on the wisdom teeth results in drool and blood.”

Lance snorts. “Baby, have you seen yourself? I was barely able to like, support you on the way up. You fell on top of me on the bed.”

Shiro blinks before he grins, hands placing comfortably around Lance’s hips. “Well, that explains a few things when I woke up in the middle of the night.”

The brunet flushes and slaps his arm, shaking his head in disbelief. “You are unbelieveable. I’m supposed to be the ‘inuendo’ guy in this relationship.”

“You always get the fun! Not Fair!”

“What’s not fair is that I have no strawberry jelly for my toast right now, so, up! You owe me a jelly!”

“You mi mi mi jelly.” Shiro mocks, sticking out his tongue playfully and laughing when Lance gasps and shoves him back, yelping when Shiro’s hold on him doesn’t flatters and bring him down along with him on the couch.

“Shiro! For god’s sake!” The brunet shouts out in surprise, laughter muffled against his boyfriend’s chest, “My breakfast!”

“My cuddles, babe!” Shiro shouts back, squeezing the younger man closer to him, “Cuddles and then we can go to the Coran’s Cafe, I swear.”

A pause and then -

“Ok, fine, but just because these are the first cuddles without blood in like three days.”

“Fair enough.”

“You better not drool on me.”

“No promises.”

Takashi!” 

Begin Again - i || TBS

Originally posted by sirisaacnewtmas

A/N: I’ll admit, I was pumped to see you guys contact me without the anonymous feature. So, without further ado. :)

I was also pumped to find out that the first comment on my post (where I asked you guys if you’d like this kind of fic) was a guy telling me that I’d be better off doing homework in my room.

Well, sir, I am actually a straight-A student with no problems in school and at home, at all.

Hah, here you go.

MAKE A REQUEST

Your ex-husband, Thomas, insisted on watching your six-year-old daughter Hope while you go the US to attend a conference for writers. Reluctantly, you agreed, and here you were at his home.

“Daddy!” your daughter ran up to your lanky ex-husband, crawling to his neck.

“Hey, princess,” he smiled – genuinely, too.

Then he saw you.

And he gave you that same fake smile, full of unsaid words and feelings.

“Hello, Y/N.” he reached out to hug you awkwardly. It was less uncomfortable since Hope was between you both, and he patted your back friendlily.

“Hi, Thomas.” You smiled, reaching for Hope’s bag. “Here’s her bag. I packed up three extra sets of clothes and some snacks in case she gets hungry,”

Thomas took the pink backpack from you, chuckling. “Y/N, she has clothes here, and I have a kitchen.”

You widened your eyes slightly, before nodding sheepishly. “Riiight. Well, off I go, then.” You leaned in to kiss Hope on the cheek, then Thomas spoke up.

“How about you stay for dinner?” he suggested shyly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Yeah, mommy, stay!” Hope pouted.

“For a bit, my flight is in three hours.” You complied.

“I can drive you.” Thomas offered. “We can get food on the road.”

Thomas was acting odd. He’d always act stiff when you were around, and he was always almost evidently waiting for you to leave already.

But today, he wanted to spend time with you.

Despite yourself, you nodded, turning to Hope. “Honey, why don’t you go unpack some of your things? Freshen up before we leave?”

Hope looked at her father. At his nod of agreement, Hope hopped off to her bedroom – a room Thomas had the people build especially for her when you were still married.

“What’s up with you today?” you demanded, following Thomas to the kitchen.

He set down two glasses and a pitcher of iced tea, sighing. “I just want to see both my girls again, okay, Y/N? Just for tonight. For Hope.”

Did he just call you his girl?

If you were honest with yourself, you probably hoped he wanted you to stay because he wanted you, daughter or no daughter. But you nodded.

I mean, you wouldn’t be forced to befriend him if Hope didn’t come into the picture, right?

Handing you your glass of tea, an awkward silence followed.

Daddy, I want one too!” your daughter stood in the hallway, eyeing you both happily, probably overjoyed at the rare sight of her two parents together.

“You won’t be able to sleep tonight, darling, how about milk?” he offered. At your daughter’s nod, he reached for a glass and the carton.

“Do you have cookies, too?” she asked.

“Hope,” you interrupted, a warning tone wavering in your voice.

“It’s alright, love, really,” he told you. And he was just as shocked as you were.

He hadn’t called you love since – well – forever.

Not since six years.

“Just a few, it’ll ruin her appetite.” You compromised. Thomas nodded.

Holding back a smile at the sweet exchange between father and daughter, you decided to clean the glasses up and put them in the sink. You began to reach for the sponge when Thomas stopped you.

“That’s unnecessary… Y/N,” he almost called you that again. “I’ll do it when I get home.”

“Nonsense, they’re just glasses, Thomas.” With that, you set to work.

More strange behavior followed. Thomas insisted on you riding next to him with Hope on your lap. The last time you rode next to him in a car was when you were on your way to sign your divorce papers.

Thomas being an actor, paparazzi followed you both around. Bitterness overtook you further then; his career was practically the reason why you decided to end things.

Somehow, Thomas never noticed when you stared at him while he was driving. So during the one-hour drive to McDonald’s, you took the time to assess what changed.

His jaw line is more pronounced, his laugh lines a little more prominent. He still ran his fingers through his hair and sighed whenever he was in deep thought. Only Hope kept the aura lively, chatting to Thomas about her friends in school.

“Mommy has a friend too, Daddy, he’s my friend’s daddy and he said he really likes Mommy,” Hope blabbered on. You sunk in your seat.

Bryce Masen was a single parent who took a liking to you, and boy, was he vocal about it. He insisted on courting you, but you gave him a firm no before he settled for friendship.

Thomas glanced at you briefly. “Really?” his eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“He’s just a friend,” you clarified. “Mommy doesn’t like anyone,” it was more towards Thomas, but Hope nodded.

“You mean like a crush, Mommy?” Hope asked innocently, and Thomas’ head snapped to her direction.

“Since when did you know what a crush is?” he demanded, occasionally looking at her to indicate he’s waiting for an answer.

“One of my friends said he crushed on me, then Mommy told me it means you want to be boyfriend and girlfriend with someone.” She explained.

“No crushes,” he stated firmly. “not until you’re thirty.”

You held back an “aww”, and Hope only laughed.

“I’m not joking,” Thomas muttered so softly only you could hear.

“Thomas,” you chastised. He only looked at you smugly.

“Here we are!” he turned to the drive-thru.

He spoke to the intercom and relayed your order, knowing it by heart.

Although it was a little thing, you found it very endearing.

“Say goodbye to Mummy, Hope.” Thomas put her in your arms, and she nuzzled her nose in the crook of your neck.

“Don’t go, Mommy,” she whined.

“I’ll come back in a few days, darling,” you promised, kissing her hair.

“Promise?” she pulled away, meeting your eyes. At your nod, she smiled. “Can me, you, and Daddy go to the beach?”

“I’m sure Daddy can bring you there while I’m gone, sweetie.”

“But I want you to be there, too!” she pouted.

“Of course we’ll wait for Mummy,” Thomas piped up.

What is this man high on?

“Alright then!” you said breathily. “We’ll go to the beach when I get back.”

“I’m sleepy,” Hope yawned, climbing up Thomas’ car, leaving you two standing awkwardly.

“You’re acting really weird, Thomas, you have to stop before Hope-“

“I miss you, alright?” Thomas blurted out. “I want to have an actual friendship with you. Not a friendship where you want to get out of my bloody house as soon as you can.”

You sighed. “Fine.” You forced a smile. “I’ll see you when I get back, then.”

“I’m really taking you girls to the beach,” Thomas remarked.

Your lips tightening to a thin line, you nodded. “That would be nice.”

Taking you both by surprise, he leaned in to wrap you in his embrace.

He still smelled the same. Felt the same way.

“Travel safely. Message me when you land.” He whispered in your ear.

He pulled away from the embrace, but not completely. His face lingered close to yours, eyes shut, waiting for you to react to your unusual closeness.

You didn’t react.

He exhaled through his nose, pulling away. “I’m sorry.” He muttered.

You nodded. “Goodbye, Thomas.”

He looked heartbroken that you hadn’t responded to the kiss. He tried to keep a friendly façade, but you knew him. You always will.

With that in mind, you tiptoed to peck him on the lips before hurrying away, not wanting to deal with the aftermath.

What just happened?

anonymous asked:

Omg Kookie drinking milk that's so cute

he’s a child poor beb should have been left at home

also he doesn’t want to break any glasses so milk cartons are the way to go

Daydreamer-Eyes

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): Avengers - Steve Rogers/Captain America, feat. Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Rating: PG

Original Idea: The wonderful URL of the Tumblr who sent me one of the nicest things I’ve ever received about my writing - @daydreamer-eyes!

Notes: Like I said, I don’t usually dedicate one-shots. But I had to write this because @daydreamer-eyes has always been so kind and supportive. There are so many others I could do this for, and I want you to know I appreciate every single one of you, but for now this will have to do.

“Daydreamer-Eyes”

^^^^^

You sit between Steve and Bucky, staring across the room. You’re not a big fan of Tony’s “team meetings”. They mostly consist of him standing in front of everyone mocking everyone and giving a very dramatic performance of what is supposed to be a debriefing.

Bucky is looking very bored, and Steve is looking annoyed. He and Tony never got along. You know that tension between the two men had been mounting for years. And one day it’s going to peak. One or the other will snap and they’ll fight. It’ll be brutal. It’ll be bloody. You’re sure of it. You’re not sure how you know—maybe they have more self-control than you give them credit for but that’s not likely—you just do. It’ll be bad.

Steve snaps his fingers in front of your face. The rest of the team has left, leaving you and both the super soldiers. “Hey, Daydreamer Eyes!”

You shake your head to clear it. “Huh?” you ask—eloquently.

“Look, we can all tell you’re not paying attention during meetings. And none of us want to pay attention during meetings. But you’re so obviously daydreaming that Tony was doing his best impression of a Barbie doll and you didn’t notice,” Steve tells you.

“What?” you exclaim. Bucky smirks but remains silent—he does that a lot.

“Mm-hmm. That’s what you get for daydreaming.”

“How can you tell I’m not paying attention?” you ask, even though you’re pretty sure you know the answer. You do try to make it look like you’re listening while your mind wanders but…

“Those daydreamer-eyes. They don’t focus and they stare between people’s heads.”

“Not to mention they don’t move or blink,” Bucky adds. You chuckle lightly.

Steve holds his hand out to you as Bucky pushes himself out of his chair. You take Steve’s hand and he hauls you to your feet. After you stumble against him because he’s so strong he over-pulls, you straighten. “So what are what was the meeting about?” you ask. The super soldiers exchange a glace—like they’re debating whether or not to tell you the truth—which wouldn’t surprise you in the least if they made something up.

“We’re headed to Hungary in the morning. Budapest,” Bucky says concisely. You nod. The last time you were in Budapest on a mission, it was lovely. “For now, we’re going to get some stuff ready, if you care to join us.”

“I’m always up for joining you two,” you joke. Steve chuckles lightly and Bucky even cracks a smile.

The three of you leave the meeting room, talking quietly as you pass a couple SHIELD agents who always mill about the building. Once you’re out of earshot, you talk a bit louder. Bucky, fairly characteristically, stays mostly silent. It’s mostly you and Steve talking about what you’re looking forward to on the mission. When you reach a storeroom, you notice Steve’s eyes have gone glassy. He’s stopped walking and he’s staring blankly at the equipment surrounding the three of you on all sides. He’s probably having some sort of flashback, if you have to guess.

He’s a soldier. So is Bucky. You’ve seen this look on both of them several times. A thousand-yard stare. Usually a look like that is characteristic of a war-weary, exhausted, probably traumatized soldier.

“Hey, daydreamer-eyes,” you tease gently, nudging him in the arm.

He shakes his head—probably to clear it—and looks down at you. “That’s how it is, huh?” he jokes.

“Oh that’s how it is,” you reply, copying his tone. He chuckles.

You, Steve, and Bucky assemble the gear you’ll need. It takes a couple hours because you keep coming upon random bits and pieces of things none of you realized even existed. “Whoa!” Steve exclaims. “This looks like a lightsaber handle!”

“It is,” Bucky comments. “I made it ages ago.”

You grin. Briefly you remember that Bucky is a giant science nerd and really took to Star Wars when the team watched the original trilogy for movie night (certain plot twists he and Steve weren’t expecting caused them to leap to their feet in shock, shouting at the TV). You suspect it has something to do with the fact that someone loses an arm in pretty much every single movie of the saga but he’s never confirmed nor denied that.

“Really?” Steve asks.

Bucky shrugs. “Sure. It was pretty easy. The hard part is making a working blade.”

You snicker. “Don’t tell Tony. He’ll do it,” you joke.

“Don’t tell Tony what?”

“Speak of the devil,” you mutter as the billionaire enters the storage room. Steve flashes the lightsaber hilt behind his back.

“That I was very unimpressed with your Barbie doll impression,” you put in nonchalantly.

“Oh puh-lease, Miss Daydreamer-Eyes! You weren’t even paying attention to my Barbie doll impression! That was the point of why I did it!” Tony sasses. You shrug. To a certain extent you’ve been through with putting up with his endless supply of crap for about three months now. Sometimes he was genuinely funny. Other times… not so much.

You take a step towards the door. “See you on the jet—bright and early,” you remark.

Steve follows you out, closely tailed by Bucky. Your duffel bags are all full of the equipment you’ll need to head to Budapest. “Think Natasha and Clint will tell us what happened the last time they were in Budapest together?” Steve asks conversationally.

You snort. “No! They’ll never tell anyone—just because it’s the one mission we all want to know about,” you say. Steve makes his ‘seems legit’ face and the three of you walk to your rooms for the night.

At about two in the morning, a knock comes from your door. “Psst! Daydreamer!” Steve hisses.

“Mmm?” you mutter.

“Can you disarm FRIDAY? She’s a little intimidating with your door pointing a red laser at my chest.”

Internally you curse. You forgot to turn her off “Panic Mode” after Pietro scared the living daylights out of you the night before. You roll out of bed and push the button to calm down the program that ran the facility since JARVIS became Vision. After a moment, you open the door to see Steve and his messy blond bedhead looking a bit sheepish. “Hi,” you greet sleepily.

“I, uh, I… I had a nightmare and I didn’t want to… wake anyone else.”

You sigh and hold your arms out. “Come here, big guy,” you mutter.

He bends down and gives you a hug. You hold him gently and rub his back. He’s a bit of a sad giraffe wrapped around a zebra in terms of height comparison, but he feels like you’re holding a furnace.

You pull him deeper into your room and sit him down on your bed. From your mini-fridge you extract a carton of milk. While he stares at you, you pour out the milk into a glass, stick the carton back in the fridge, and cross back over to him. You hold out the glass without a word.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, accepting it and taking a drink.

You sit down next to him on the bed and tilt your head to the side, wrapping your arm around his broad, powerful shoulders. “Wanna talk about it?” you ask gently.

He sighs and rests his head on your shoulder. “No.”

“You can’t keep everything in, all the time, you know,” you remark. “It’s not good for you.”

“It was just a dream. It was the war. All over again.”

He finishes the milk and just keeps his head on your shoulder. You stroke his hair and hold him close. You were never quite sure what your relationship with him was, exactly, but you liked being around him and he seemed very relaxed around you. This isn’t the first time he’s turned up at your room in the middle of the night having had a nightmare. The first time it had scared you to death—why on Earth was someone knocking on your door at two AM?!—but after a while, you expected it at least twice a month. Sometimes more, depending on the month. He seemed to turn up a lot in January.

After a while, he falls back asleep, body weight suddenly dropping limp. All 220-240 pounds fall on you and you drop backward onto the bed. Gently, so as not to wake him up, you extricate yourself from under him and drape a blanket over him. He’ll sleep through the night now. Tiptoeing, you slide out of your room and go to his. This has happened before too—in fact, Steve insisted you take his much bigger bed whenever he fell asleep on you.

The next morning, as FRIDAY rings a collective team alarm, you roll out of Steve’s bed and head for your room to go get dressed. “Why are you leaving Steve’s room?” Bucky asks as he emerges from his own—probably having been up a half hour before the alarm went off.

“He fell asleep in my room last night after he had a bad dream,” you answer. Bucky knows about the strange dynamic you and Steve have, but he never presses.

Halfway between your room and Steve’s you turn a corner and bump into the soldier himself.

“Thank you,” he says. “For letting me come in and for making me feel better.”

You grin. “Well, you’re very welcome, Captain. Glad I could help.”

“I’m glad you could too—daydreamer-eyes.” He gives you a wink.

You drop your head. “That’s not going away any time soon,” you mutter.

You have a fight and one of you storms out (part 1)

Ashton

You were sitting at home watching TV when Ashton got home, he slammed the door shut as he walked in and you got startled a bit. “hey hun” you called out but you only got a mumbled “hey” in reply. “You ok?” you asked as you turned the volume down a bit. “Yeah, sure, whatever you want it to be” he spat and walked into the kitchen. You stood up and followed him into the kitchen “excuse me?” you asked confused. He didn’t say anything while he opened the fridge and took out a milk carton and poured himself a glass and took out of the drawer a pack of Oreos. He turned his back at you and you noticed that he poured the rest of the milk in the glass then closed the carton and put it back in the fridge. “Can you please not put an empty milk carton back into the fridge, we’ve been over this a thousand times” you asked as you tried to stay calm. “You probably wouldn’t say that to him” he mumbled quietly, but it was loud enough for you to hear. “Who?” you asked kinda pissed. He just ignored you. “Why are you ignoring me Ash?” you asked as he turned around. “You wanna know? you really wanna know? alright, I’ll tell you, I know you’ve been cheating on me” he spat at you. “What?” you asked confused once again. “Yeah, I hear rumours too you know” he said angry, he was practically yelling. “I’m sorry, you heard that I cheated on you, where did you hear that?” “ it was on Twitter and Instagram” he yelled. “Why are you yelling at me?” you yelled at him. “Because you fucking cheated on me” he yelled. “When?” you asked calmer and crossed your arms, you were trying so hard not to cry but it was getting hard. “I don’t know, I just know that you did it” he yelled but he sounded a bit confused. “With who?” you asked again. “I don’t know” he spat. “Well, the next time you accuse me of cheating on you then you better have your damn facts straight Ashton, I love you, I would never cheat” you said as you stormed out of the house leaving Ashton alone confused.

Calum
You were at Ashton’s place with the boys playing cards and having fun. Luke said a funny joke and you laughed, then you heard Michael say “hey Y/N, you have crooked teeth, I never noticed” you immediately closed your mouth and smiled uncomfortably. “Omg yeah, open your mouth” Luke said and had a huge grin on his face. You covered your mouth and said “in your dreams Hemmings” they all laughed and kept on firing jokes at you. You looked at your boyfriend Calum and hoping he would say something to make them stop. He just laughed and told you to take your hand from your mouth. Calum knew that you hated your teeth and wanted to get them fixed as soon as possible but now he was kinda a dick about it. After a while they stopped. At this moment you were feeling really insecure about your teeth as if they weren’t perfect enough for them. When you got home you had to hold back the tears. You looked at Calum and said “why didn’t you say something” you asked and did everything in your power to hold back the tears. “What are you talking about” he said and still had that huge grin on his face. “Back at Ashton’s place, you were making jokes and laughing at my teeth, you know I hate them enough already” you said and a tear started streaming down your cheek. “Y/N it was just a joke, no need to get worked up about it” he said seriously. “Calum, it’s not a joke when someone starts crying” you said pissed. “well, maybe you should stop crying then” he said and took out his phone. “What?” you asked pissed. “You heard me, if you weren’t so damn sensitive we wouldn’t be having this argument” he said and started scrolling through his instagram feed. “Calum, that’s not the point here, the point is that your friends were making fun of you girlfriend about a very sensitive topic and you just laugh and don’t do anything about it, if I was making fun of you, you wouldn’t find this funny” you said and grabbed your coat. “Call me when you grow a pear” you said and stormed out.

Luke
You were at a coffee house with your friend who wasn’t very fund of Luke tbh. You had been talking all day when the topic suddenly took a turn and was about Luke, and it wasn’t from your end. “I hate to tell you this but I think Luke’s cheating on you” she said seriously. “Why do you think that?” you asked confused. “Well, mainly because my friend told me and I remember the other day when Luke was like four hours late home and you called me crying, well that night my friend told me that she’d seen him with a chick and they were making out and then I saw it on some gossip site on Facebook” she said deadly serious. You were confused and angry, you remembered that night like it was yesterday although it had just been last week. You excused yourself and went home. On the way home you started thinking and noticed that he had been acting a little bit strange lately. When you got home Luke was on the phone. “Yeah, I know, I’ll see you tonight… What?… No, Y/N doesn’t know about this” you heard him say. You didn’t want to hear about this anymore so you walked into the kitchen and crossed your arms. “I gotta go, bye” he said and hung up. “Hey” he said and smiled. “Who was that?” you asked pissed. “C-Calum” he said quickly. “Oh really?, what did he want?” you asked. “He was just checking if I wasn’t coming to rehearsals tonight” he said quickly. “Luke, you’re on a break, what’s going on?” you asked as the tears filled your eyes but you weren’t gonna let them fall, so you tried as hard as you could to hold them back. “What?, nothing, there’s nothing going on” he said and furrowed his eyebrows. “Oh really, then where were you when you came home four hours late last week?” you asked “I can’t say” he said pissed. “Why the fuck not?” you asked and started to raise your voice. What exactly are you accusing me of here Y/N?“ he asked confused. "What’s her name?” you asked as you tried to hold in a tear. “What?” he asked and walked over to you and stood right in front of you, he looked like he wanted to hug you but he didn’t. “Y/F/N said that her friend had seen you make out with some chick last week, the day you had come home late” you said and a tear rolled down your cheek. “Y/ N I’m not cheating on you” he said and wrapped his arms around you but you pushed him away. “Don’t touch me” you said angry. “Look, I’m not cheating but I can’t tell you why I came home late, I’m not gonna stand here and fight with you over something I didn’t do, goodbye” he said and walked out the door and slammed it behind him leaving you all alone and vulnerable.

Michael
You and Michael had been together for a while and you noticed that Michael played video games a lot… One time you really wanted to go shopping for a birthday present for your mutual friend but he didn’t want to go. “Michael, please you’ve been playing on your computer all weekend, you haven’t even gone with me to bed all weekend” you said as you put on some eyeshadow. “C'mon Y/N stop nagging me” he said as he pounded the remote of his xbox. “Jesus Christ Michael, the only thing you ever do is play this fucking computer” you snapped at him. “If I would stand in front of you naked you wouldn’t even notice” you said and you noticed a smirk on his face. “ you know what Michael ,I’m sick and tired of this, you are 19 years old but you’re acting like a ten year old” you snapped. “Y/N calm down, I’m just playing a little video game that’s all” he said and laughed like you were a total idiot. “Michael, can you stop playing your video game and take me a bit seriously” you said really pissed. “Y/N calm down, it’s just a game” he said “if it’s just a game the why the hell is it more important the me” you almost yelled. “Jesus Christ Y/N” he said and paused the game and stood up and walked up to you. “What’s your problem Y/N?” he yelled. “You’re my problem Michael, you’re so fucking in love with this computer that you barely pay any attention to me, your girlfriend if you didn’t notice” you yelled back. “Oh, I noticed alright, the only thing you ever do is complain about the computer” he yelled back “that’s because the only thing you ever do is play on the stupid computer” you yelled back and you8 could feel the tears coming, but you didn’t want to stop them, you wanted to see how you felt about this and the only thing you could do that was to show your emotions. “Oh c'mon stop crying” he said pissed. “We can’t even have an argument because you always play the cry card” he practically yelled. “Becuase I what?” you asked pissed. “You. Always. Play. The. Cry. Card” he said and turned around and walked back into the living room and pressed play in his game. “You know what…” you said as tears streamed down your face “you can just date your fucking xbox since it’s so important, I’m done” you said and left.

A.N: so yeah, this was requested :D, I know that some of those are longer then the others but I just got so into it :3, but anyways, hope you liked it and please send me requests and I’ll gladly do it, byyee :D
  

May 18, 2015

  1. Taurus
     Socks
     Red

  2. Capricorn
     Bucket
     Grey

  3. Cancer
     Italian cuisine
     Black

  4. Aries
     Your own room
     Green

  5. Pisces
     Glass accessories
     Light blue

  6. Virgo
     Carton
     Yellow

  7. Sagittarius
     Hair care products
     Beige

  8. Libra
     Pet shop
     Navy

  9. Leo
     Sports gym
     Red

  10. Scorpio
     Candy
     Pink

  11. Aquarius
     Note book
     Green

  12. Gemini
     Parka
     Grey