pretty purse

Remorse.

or… harry regrets breaking y/n’s heart

category: angst

I miss you.

His mouth is dry as he stares down at his phone, thumb hovering over the arrow that’ll send the text he’s longing to mail. With another deep breath, he studies the message over again, then begins to question himself. Should I write more? She deserves an apology. Maybe the word crave instead of miss. Yearn for? He deletes the text but retypes it in the same moment.

He’s never felt guilt this deeply before, he’s never so desperately wanted to turn back time and change everything– rephrase all of his words differently. Do things differently. The thought of him not being able to go back and change things hits him like a ton of bricks, sending his short nails into the palm of his hand.

A clap on his shoulder wakes him from his thoughts, and he looks up with attentive eyes. “Ready to go?” Jeff laughs, tucking his heel into the back of his shoe. “Reservations don’t hold themselves.”

“No, yeah.” he rushes, tucking the locked phone into the back pocket of his jeans. “Let’s go.”

“It’s my fucking job, y’know that, we’ve been through this a million times before. Get over it, angel.”

She scoffs in disbelief, untying the silk scarf from around her neck. “Get over it? Get over it. Over my boyfriend of nearly a year not telling anyone about our relationship—?“

“The media would go insane I- fuck I told y’this—”

“I’m not asking you to tell the world, Harry! Maybe your mom, your sister? My family? I’ve been lying to them for way too long, keeping an enormous part of my life away from them how’s that supposed to make me feel? Do you know how distressing it is to be introduced as a friend to you? To not tell anyone, not even my best friend how much you mean to me?”

“Y’do know it’s like that for me as well? A relationship is consists of two people—”

“Not that I’d know.”

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Crush

Summary: Everything about Bucky Barnes drives you wild…that’s basically the plot…

Warnings: smut, sexual tension

A/N: I spent today writing my own mini thesaurus, by hand, and I came up with this idea during my breaks.


“Fuck!” Your back slammed down against the thick mat, air shoot out of your lungs.

“If you’re not paying close attention to your enemies you’re going to get yourself killed. What the hell has you so distracted?” Steve stretched a hand out, helping you up.

“N-Nothing.” You huffed, avoiding eye contact with the super soldier in front of you.

That was a lie, a big fat lie. You were completely distracted by the man across the room, the one with the glistening metal arm and the chocolate brown hair. Motherfucking Bucky Barnes. 

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