Larry Stylinson One-Shots

Angst: Refers to a genre of stories with prevalent physical or, mainly, emotional torment of characters.

Smut: A writting style that is sexually explicit. Erotic fiction.

Fluff: A fanfiction in which the story has no plot. Only humourous or romantic nonsense.


2. #1


You know that feeling when you see the love of your life be with someone that isn't you? Well that's how I feel And not a moment goes by that I think about it..and it kills me inside. I know I'm not good enough for him, I'll never be. He's clearly happy with her, I can tell by the way his eyes crinkle, grinning ear to ear. I dont think anyone understands that every time I see him with her it breaks my heart just a little more. It's gotten, to the point where I don't even hang with the others because I know he'll be there, even if she isn't there. I just can't face him knowing he doesn't love or care about me in the same way. His eyes seem to keep me in a trance whenever I stare into them (without him knowing of course). And his hair, I could run my fingers through the feathery locks that have grown out over time, it was hot on him. And his lips, oh God his lips. I long to feel them on my own and I could tell it'd send shivers down my spine and make me crave more. I cry myself to sleep every night and weep every morning. Before...she came in the picture we were very close, mentally and physically. But then there she was, perfect as ever. With looks that could kill, attracting guys wherever she went. I felt the Lou I know and love slowly fading away and I hated that I couldn't stop it Instead I had to watch him change into a whole other person, and not in a good way. But no, she had to go for the man I wished I could call mine. I guess it's just a sign that there wasn't or never will be an 'us', my eyes watered just thinking of it. Maybe I should just leave this world. Yeah...that'd be good. Say bye to all of my problems permanently and not having any worries. I stand up from my bed and head to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. With trembling hand I open it and pull out a prescription of bottled pills that I don't even bother looking at to see what it is. I gulp thickly thinking about what about to do. Do I really want this? Do I really just want to leave everyone? This is probably selfish of me, knowing I can get help. But honestly I dont think any therapy could fix this feeling in the pit of my stomach that makes me want to take these pills. So I don't give it another thought. I take a handful and swallow one by one. Each pill representing how many times he's hurt me in these past years. I started feeling urge to...sleep after a little, and I knew what was coming to me. Everything seemed to disappear around me and that's when I closed my eyes with a smile on my lips in pure bliss...

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