You were facing a russian kid. You shook his hand and sat across from him, starting his clock. Playing with such a young person scared you a lot. You weren’t ready for him. The kid was fast, merciless. He got you. There was no way out. You resigned. When he stood up to walk past you, he whispered: you’re nothing but a pretty face men like to look at. You had no reaction at first. But then tears irrupted from your eyes and you escaped the crowd, running towards the restroom. Any and Melissa ran quickly to your side. And Harry, who had watched you so closely during the whole game, felt the urge to be there for you as well. But he didn’t want to impose his company. Maybe it was better to let you have some privacy.
You washed your face and stared at the restroom’s mirror. Your friends were behind you, trying to comfort you somehow.
-What did he say? -Melissa asked.
-I don’t want to talk about it.
-What can we get you, dear? Water? Some coffee? Don’t you want to go back to our room to rest? -Any suggested, being extra careful with her words. You nodded in agreement.
You could sense that they wanted to address the match but didn’t really knew how. Since they were clueless when it came to the rules, maybe it was best not to comment on anything and avoid being insensitive. You knew they were there for you and that they would be
happy to listen to you when you felt ready. Back in the room, Melissa broke the silence:
-Why don’t we order some drinks, huh? Might help relax…
-Harry… I have to cancel.
-Yes, Any. Melissa is right. Let’s order some drinks so I can get shitfaced and forget about today.
-Do you want me to call for you? -Melissa suggested.
-Harry or the bar?
-I can do both.
-Thanks. -You let your body fall on the bed. As Melissa grabbed the phone. She called Harry first. Only being able to hear one side of the conversation, you missed the part where he asked if you were ok, if there was anything he could do for you, his voice trembling with concern. Melissa was too cold. Then she dialed the number of the bar and asked for bottles of something you didn’t pay attention to.
Not long after there was a knock on the door and the drinks came. You weren’t actually planning on getting shitfaced but you didn’t even notice how fast you ended up going from one glass to another. Suddenly you were spilling out everything you felt after that fucking kid beat you.
-And then he told me I was nothing! Just a pretty face.
-He complimented you then, in a way.
-You fucking kidding me Melissa?
-What? You do know that you win some matches because you get those boys distracted.
-What’s wrong with you?!
-Girls. Please. -Any tried to easy things
-No. Fuck you, Melissa. I don’t know what the hell is your problem! Ever since we got here you’ve been making mean remarks all the damn time!
-That is not true! -She yelled back.
You could feel the tears boiling up again, so you got up and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Any could be heard screaming at Melissa from outside the room. Looking at the empty corridor suddenly the weight of the day got the best of you. You made your way towards the elevator, panic rising, and pressed the button to the lobby. The next decision you made in a fraction of seconds, as if some other force was in control of your body. Standing before a concierge, you asked for Harry Beltik’s room number.
-I’m not allowed to do that, miss.
-Could you call him for me, then? Tell him that Y/N Y/L/N is at the lobby, wanting to see him.-He looked at you suspiciously. But gave up.
-Alright, I think that I can do.
-Thank you. -He dialed the number.
-Good night, Mister Beltik. There’s a Miss Y/L/N at the lobby asking for you sir. What’s that? Oh, sure. Yes. I’ll tell her. Good night, Mister Beltik. -He hanged the phone and faced you again. -Mister Beltik said that you can go to his room if you’d like. The number is 26.
-Thank you so much, sir.
-Have a good night, Miss.
Going up to Harry’s room, you realized you didn’t really know what to say to him. Maybe sorry? For cancelling the date? Why were you even going there anyway? For support. Yes. Support. To fall apart in front of someone you could trust. But could you really trust him? He was a friend. A distant friend. He was a friend in your head. He was a lot of things in your head. You needed a shoulder to cry on. Maybe you should’ve invited your parents instead of your friends. At least your dad would insist on ordering some comfort food and your mom would go through a list of things that made you feel better and make thousands of attempts to get you to smile as she always did. Harry opened the door before you even had to knock. Perhaps it was the sound of your heels announcing your messy presence. He was instantly taken aback by the sight of you. Your eyeliner was smudged, it was clear that you had been crying and your hair was messy. Also, you smelled of alcohol.
-What happened? -He was wearing a flannel shirt over a white t-shirt. His hair was messy too, but because he was already asleep. You could tell he had made the bed so you could have a place to sit. He closer the door, stopping by the telephone, and you walked straight to bed.
-Good evening. Can I have two cups of coffee, please? Room number 26. Thank you.
-I’m sorry. -He sat down in front of you.
-What is it, Y/N? What happened at the match?-his eyes always looked bigger when he was worried, as if they would tear up with tenderness. -I wanted to go after you but I thought maybe you needed some privacy.
-That kid. He destroyed me. He destroyed me at the match I couldn’t see what he was doing. It was humiliating.
-It wasn’t humiliating at all. You both played very well.
-He said I’m only a pretty face men like to look at. -Harry stared at his hands. And then back at you.
-He’s only trying to get you down. Y/N you are one of the best players in the world. Everyone knows that. To reduce you to a pretty face is a disgusting way to try to tear you down.
-You don’t have to thank me. Just ask anyone.
You heard a knock on the door. He got up to open it and came back with cups of coffee, handing you one, which you enlaced with both hands. He went back to his spot.
-I don’t know why it messed me up so much. -You took a sip.
-Well I think he managed to get through your defenses.
-I’m sorry I cancelled our date.
-Well, you’re here so. Not really cancelled.
-Oh, please, don’t count this as a date.
-Fair enough. -He took a long gulp of coffee.
-I… got into a fight with the girls and didn’t know what to do so I called you.
-I’m sorry. How are you feeling about it? -You could sense anger filling you up again. And the urge to cry. A single tear came down your cheek. Harry put his cup on the bedside table and came near you to dry it up with his thumb. You buried your face on his neck and he embraced you. You stayed like this for a while until you gathered your forces and parted.
-I… why didn’t you call me? You know, after the first time we went out?
-I waited for you, you know?
-Y/N I regret that everyday. Things went downhill for me after that match. My parents said they would no support me anymore, that it was time I gave up the chess dream. I was in a very bad place. Ended up calling my university, saying that I would go back, and then I spent weeks looking for a job. Time went by and I lost the courage to call you. Thought it was too late. And I was a bit ashamed to tell you I gave up.
-Things are better now. I am back at uni, got a part time job and I plan on keep playing.
-I’m glad. Chess world wouldn’t be the same without you. -He smiled. -Thank you for tonight, Harry.
-Can we reschedule the date? -You got up, left your cup of coffee beside his, and started making your way to the door. Him following behind you.
-Of course my lady. -He opened the door for you. Before turning around, you stepped closer to him and pecked him on the lips. The surprise paralyzing both of you.
He brushed your hair our of your face, put his hand on your neck and pulled you back in, slowly. His tongue gently slipping in. You went back inside the room and he closed the door, pressing you against it. Every movement felt like in slow motion. Your bodies melting into the kiss, his arms around you, your hand massaging his hair. You parted, looking into each other’s eyes for explanation, comfort, anything. The atmosphere became so heavy, so palpable. You wanted to say I love you. And you hated yourself for it. Maybe saying I love you right away would make things clear from the start. But it wasn’t really I love you. It was: I care for you deeply. I admire you. I want to be near you. I trust you. Yes. That was it. I trust you.
Notes: hey! Let me know your thoughts! And feel free to ask if you’d like to be tagged.
When december comes, i bet you want to wrap me up and take me home with you. See what i look like under them lights. We’ll keep it quiet, whatever we do.
“The kid asleep?” Y/n asks as her boyfriend enters the room, and closes the door behind him. He nod’s, and he turns the main bedroom light off. Y/n reaches over to the small remote on her bedside table, and she presses the on button. The lights hung up on the ceiling turn on, and envelope the room in a red and green glow. Din walks around the bed and he lays down beside Y/n, who was putting the book she was reading away.
I’m just tryna keep my baby warm through the wintertime, I’m just tryna give you something to remember through the summertime. And whatever is on your list, i’ll do it. Boy, whatever it is, you know i’ll do it.
“Close your eyes for me honey.” Y/n tells him, watching with a smile as he rolls his eyes with a smirk before closing them. Y/n waves her hand in front of his face to make sure his eyes are truly closed. Y/n smiles even wider at his unresponsiveness, and she quietly lifts the blanket off her body. The coolder air in the room envelopes her half naked body and it makes her shiver, but she only accepts the cold as she swings her leg over hins body, and she sits down on his hips. “can you sit up for me baby?” She asks him.
Merry Christmas, here i am, boy. Gonna love you, give you all i can, boy. Merry Christmas, here i am, boy. I’m the present and you know it, here i am boy.
Din sits up, and he raises his eyebrow. The next thing he feels is Y/ns finger’s brushing up against his lower torso as they curl around the hem of his shirt before bringing it up and pulling it over his head. The shirt is off his body and onto the floor right after that, and she quickly presses a kiss to his lips before pulling away. “You can open your eyes now love.”
Merry Christmas, here i am, boy. Gonna love you, give you all i can, boy. Merry Christmas, here i am, boy. I’m the present and you know it, boy.
Din’s eyes roam all over her body, and his hands find her sides and he hooks his finger’s in the red lace underwear. The underwear itself was matching lingere. The base colour was red, and there was green detailing in lace over top. All Christmas themed. Y/n leans forward and she captures his lips with hers, one of his hands moves up and cups the back of her neck, holding her close as he runs his tongue along her bottom lip, humming in delight as they open and he gets a taste of her.
Y/n smiles and she breaks the kiss, her hand moving up and cupping his cheek. “Are you my present, baby?” Din asks, muttered but loud enough so Y/n can hear it. She nods and gives him a small smile. “You know it, now where do you want me, baby?” She asks him, and he looks up in thought before speaking. “On your back.” A simple request. Y/n nods and she kisses him once more before lifting herself up off Din’s lap, her leg brushes against his fully hard member, and she smirks a little to herself as she lays down on her back.
I’ll give you the fire that i keep inside, guide you all the way down n’ be your nightlight. Give you the sweetest kiss that you’ll taste. Unwrap me now, been waiting since midnight.
Y/n watches as her boyfriend gets off the bed, and he slips off his pants, he turns around and get climbs back on the bed, then over his girlfriend. Din presses a long and sweet kiss to her lips before breaking it and kissing her cheek, then her jaw and all the way down untill he’s reached her breast. He reaches his hands behind her back and he unclasps her bra, slipping it off and throwing it onto the floor. “I love these tits of yours.” Din mutters, kissing each peek before continuing to move down untill hes reached her hips and pussy. Din is quick to slip off her underwear and throw it onto the floor where her discarded bra went, and he’s also quick to dive into her folds.
I’m just tryna keep my baby warm through the wintertime, i’m just tryna give you something to remember through the summertime. And whatever is on your list, i’ll do it. Boy whatever it is, you know i’ll do it.
A light moan escapes her lips as Din’s nose nudges her clit, he does it again before diving fully down onto her clit, sucking and licking and pressing featherlight kisses to it. Din set a rythym and pace to it, constantly switching from her clit to her hole, hitting all those sweet places with his tongue and finger’s. Not even stopping when she unravelled on his tongue and fingers. He pinned her hips down to the bed once they started bucking and lifting up, or trying to pull away from his merciless tongue. She cried out as another orgasm crashed through her, her hands weakly pushing at his head. He cleaned her up, drinking up her slick and cum before fully pulling away.
Din climbs up her body again and he kisses her. ‘I love you baby.“ He mutters against her lips. The pair b=continue to share those kisses as Din works on getting his underwear off. Soon that’s joining the pile of clothes as well, and hes running the tip of his cock inher fold, gathering up enough slick to coat the tip. Din taps her lips with his finger’s, and she opens her mouth automaticlly. Din watches as she sucks on his finger’s, lathering them up with spit. He pulls his fingers away after a few more seconds, and he lather’s his cock with her spit before pulling obe of her legs over his shoulder, and one around his hips as he pushes himself inside of her pussy. Din mutter’s out curses. "Your so tight for me, baby” Din whispers, bottoming out inside Y/n, thriving at the moans that escaped her lips as he did so.
Merry Christmas, here i am, boy. Gonna love you, give you all i can, boy. Merry Christmas, here i am, boy. I’m the present and you know it, here i am, boy. Merry Christmas, here i am, boy. Gonna love you, give you all i can, boy. Meryy Christmas, here i am, boy. I’m the present and you know it, here i am, boy.
His pace was slow at first, but then that pace started to speed up, and Y/n’s moans got louder, and grunts started to escape his lips as an almost feral look overtook his features. His thrusts became hard, and fast, and brutal. One of his hands was on her shoulder, the other on her hip as he kept her in place.
His thrusts started to become sloppy, and he felt her walls studdter and clench around him as she came for the third time that night. His release came shortly after. and the pair stayed that way, in eachother’s arms for a few moments as Din’s cock softened. The whine that left her lips as he pulled out was sinfull, and her eyes shut as she basked in the sweat and the heat of what just happened. Din disapeared into the bathroom, coming back a few short moments later with a warm cloth. He gently cleaned his girlfriend up, then himself before he oulled on a fresh pair of underwear, handing Y/n a pair of her own comfortable underwear and one of his shirts.
Din threw all the clothes that were on the floor into the hamper, along with the cloth before coming over and getting into bed, under the blankets and cudling into his girlfirends side. HIs eyes widened as he remembered something, and he removed his arms from her body to turn around and grab something from his bedside table. When he turned back around and he sat up, revealing a small box in his hand to Y/n.
Y/n’s eyes shot open, already breathless. “I wan'ted to ask you earlier, but the kid interupted… I love you so much Y/n, more than the world. And you would make me the happiest man alive if you would marry me, and become my wife.” Din opens up the box, revealing a silver ring with a small yet beautiful diamond. One hand flew over her mouth and tears escaped her eyes as she nodded her head fervently. Din smiled wide as he grabbed her left hand gently, and he took the ring from the box before sliding it onto her left ring finger.
Y/n was quick to pull her boyfriend- now fiance- into a very passionate kiss, 'i love yous’ muttered in between them.
Din pulled away and he rested his forehead against her’s
Apenas uma pequena one shot que resolvi fazer por acaso.
Fluff, um pouco de angst, sem spoilers do mangá.
Perdão por qualquer erro ortográfico
Tamayo X Reader
A jovem adulta caminhava pelas ruas movimentadas de tóquio cuidando para não esbarrar nas pessoas que passavam por ali. [Nome] solta um leve suspiro, ela apenas queria poder ver logo sua amada.
Por causa das ocupações de [Nome] como caçadora e de Tamayo com suas pesquisas, acabava que as duas não se viam muito o que as deixavam com uma leve angústia por talvez a cada encontro poder ser último de suas vidas. Mas [Nome] sempre tranquilizava sua amada, prometendo que sempre iria voltar para ela e que nada poderia impedir dela fazer isso.
A mulher apoia uma de suas mãos no punhal de sua nichirin e continua seu trajeto pelas ruas. [Nome] ficou apenas pensando nessa noite enquanto voltava de sua última missão, por menor que fosse curto as pausas entre uma missão e outra ela apenas queria poder abraçar Tamayo e passar esse pequeno tempo com a mulher que amava.
A jovem leva rapidamente seu olhar em direção a voz que á chama, e lá estava ela, sua amada Tamayo. [Nome] anda em passos rápidos em direção a mesma.
- Tamayo… - [Nome] dá um leve sorriso enquanto as duas tem seus olhares presos uma na outra. - Senti saudades. - Tamayo dá uma leve risadinha.
- Eu também senti saudades [Nome] - A mulher pega uma das mãos de [Nome] - Vamos - Tamayo corre desviando das pessoas enquanto arrastava a garota junto.
- Para onde vamos? - [Nome] dá um sorriso nervoso.
- Pra onde você acha? - Tamayo dá um sorriso malicioso para a mais nova que imediatamente fica vermelha. A mulher dá um risada. - Estou brincando com você.
[Nome] fica ainda mais envergonhada por pensar besteira e vira seu rosto para o lado na tentativa de disfarçar.
Assim que as duas chegam na saída da cidade Tamayo para e olha para [Nome] que entrelaça suas mãos e a dá um sorriso.
- Vamos - As duas mulheres começam a se afastar da cidade com apenas o luar para iluminar seu caminho.
- Como você está? - A caçadora começa.
- Tirando todo esse problema de demônios e afins, eu estou bem. E você? As missões devem estar cada vez mais difíceis não? - Tamayo tinha um olhar preocupado.
- Ah… isso não é nada de mais, apenas meu trabalho como uma caçadora de demônios.
- Mas você é um dos pilares não? - [Nome] sente a voz de Tamayo um pouco trêmula e desvia seu olhar para o lado.
- Me desculpe Tamayo. - A médica olha confusa para sua amada.
- P-pelo o que?
- Bom… por eu ser um dos pilares, nunca sei ao certo se realmente irei poder voltar para você sempre. - [Nome] respira fundo na tentativa de conter suas lágrimas.
Tamayo para e [Nome] faz o mesmo mas fixa seu olhar ao chão tentando disfarçar suas lágrimas, o que não adiantou pois Tamayo as percebeu.
- [Nome]… - A médica á envolve em um abraço e [Nome] retribui rapidamente deixando se desabar em lágrimas. A caçadora aperta seus braços ao redor de Tamayo como se estivesse com medo de perdê-la.
- M-me d-desculpe. - A garota diz em meio a soluços. - Me d-desculpe. - Tamayo afaga os cabelos de [Nome] na tentativa de tranquiliza-lá.
- Não precisa se desculpar [Nome], eu entendo, eu também me sinto culpada por nunca saber se vou estar aqui quando você voltar. - [Nome] se afasta do peito de sua amada e leva uma de suas mãos ao rosto de Tamayo para acariciar.
- Tamayo… - A caçadora ainda tinha sua voz trêmula.
- Sim? - Tamayo inclina seu rosto para o toque de [Nome].
- Eu te amo Tamayo, eu realmente te amo. - A mais velha olha para a caçadora com um sorriso sincero em seu rosto. - Você… você também me ama?
- Sim, eu te amo demais [Nome]. - Tamayo leva suas duas mãos ao rosto de [Nome] e fixa seu olhar no olhos da maior. - Mesmo com toda essa diferença de você ser uma humana caçadora e eu demônio, eu sempre irei te amar. Sempre.
[Nome] fecha ambos seus olhos por alguns segundos e respira fundo na tentativa de se acalmar. Ela abre seus olhos e encontra Tamayo ainda a olhando.
Tamayo encantava [Nome] de um jeito que ela nem sabia explicar, ela apenas sabia que a amava e que queria protegê-la.
As duas mulheres ainda têm seus olhares travados, como se tivesse sido pegas em um feitiço. [Nome] olha para os lábios vermelhos de Tamayo e começa a aproximar seus rosto lentamente.
Ao sentir o toque macio dos lábios da médica [Nome] fecha seus olhos completamente e esquece o mundo ao seu redor.
A caçadora envolve a cintura da mais baixa com um de seus braços e com a outra mão segura seu rosto delicadamente.
Tamayo faz os mesmo com seus braços e os envolvem no pescoço da mais alta, a fim de aprofundar o beijo.
[Nome] leva a mesma mão que segurava a lateral do rosto Tamayo, á nuca da mesma, e entrelaça suas língua fazendo com que a médica solte um suspiro e segure as lateraisl do rosto da caçadora com as mãos
- Eu irei te proteger, não importa como. - [Nome] diz assim que quebra o beijo pela falta de ar. - Por favor acredite em mim Tamayo, eu te amo e irei fazer de tudo por nós. - Tamayo encosta suas testas e abre um grande sorriso.
As versatile as the wind, Lumine dodged slashes inflicted by Childe’s hydro blades. She felt Liyue’s autumn breeze kiss her skin. I have to cut through an opening, she thought. The long, golden grass beneath them limited her movements. Childe lunged forward as his blades morphed into a polearm, but Lumine luckily used Anemo energy to deflect the weapon, and break Childe’s form. She followed up with a rapid slash, leaving a cut on Childe’s left arm.
Lumine froze. “Oh no…I’m so sorry,”
“Don’t be, it’s just practice after all,” Childe said with a playful chuckle as he removed his left glove and rolled up his sleeve.
Plagued by guilt, Lumine turned to her bag and took out medical supplies while Childe went to the nearby waterfall to clean his wound. Upon his return, he said,
“Looks like you win this round, girlie, but we will have yet another rematch one day.”
Lumine laughed and shook her head. “You can’t beat me, Childe. I’ve already lost count of our rematches in which I have won. This was our sixth? Seventh?”
“You better watch out next time, because I won’t hold back,” Childe said with a laugh.
He sat down on the fallen tree next to Lumine. Unexpectedly, she takes hold of his wounded arm and starts wrapping it with bandages.
“What are you doing?” Childe asked as he took her hand and moved it away from him.
“I hurt you, let me help you,” Lumine pleaded.
“I don’t deserve your empathy, Lumine, I am a Fatui Harbinger after all. I can take care of myself” he said with a playful laugh.
“You’re cut will get infected if I don’t cover it now! It’s not a matter of if you deserve my empathy or not” She scolded.
Saying nothing, Childe pulled his arm away and rolled his sleeve back down, allowing some of the blood to seep into his clothes.
Noticing the blood, Lumine said, “Childe, you can’t leave the wound like that. What’s the matter with you?”
He sighed and responded, “Lumine, I have taken the lives of those who didn’t deserve it. I have signed contracts that put others’ lives at risk. I lost my humanity long ago.”
“Don’t say that,” she retorted, “Don’t say that when you have done so much for me.”
He glanced at her, waiting for her to continue. Lumine paused to get her words in order, but she felt flustered, and was forced to say whatever came to her head.
“You saved Paimon and me from the Milleleth when you didn’t have to. You helped us with the mora issues when we met Mr. Zhongli. And, I have seen how you feel about your family. Your love for them is admirable, and it shows that you have a heart.”
Lumine wished she would stop speaking, but her heart caused her to ramble.
“I don’t care that you’re a harbinger. I believe that there is good in you, and you deserve as much attention as any other person.”
She felt her cheeks flush red. Childe noticed, and tucked a strand of her supple, golden hair behind her ear.
“You’re different, Lumine,” he started. “I don’t think I have met someone as caring as you.”
Releasing his hand from her face, their eyes locked together. He’s so gentle… thought Lumine. Without knowing what came over her, she reached out and caressed Childe’s face with her hand.
He chuckled, “Careful girlie, I might start to think you like me!”
“Now, munch on this when I send you off with a signal which will be me vexing the heck out of Mcgonagall!” The excitement not only builds in his voice but also in his deep brown eyes which started to shimmer, he then flashed her sportive smile. Her petite hand were outstretched as he thrusted a double coloured candy. In defence of her petite hands, he had an impossibly enormous set of hands. She stared at the piece of sweet with bewilderment in her expression as though nothing seems more ridiculous than a piece of candy used as a tool to help their sneak out plan set off.
Fred sneaked a glance at her and noticed that she was starting to fumble with her nails, which only meant one thing, she was nervous. He lifts up his hand to gently caress her dirty blonde hair and kissed the top of her head. He mumbles softly into her ear “Just trust me.” And he gives her a wink just as more students file into the hall with them.
The creak of the oak door gave rise to a sudden panic within Bella’s stomach, it felt as though someone dropped a heavy barbel that restraint all the rebellious side of her to come out. As she took a step beyond the threshold, her soft cloud-like voice whispered to herself, “Here goes nothing, I guess.”.
Bella sat herself three rows from the back, so as to be close enough to the door to save herself from the unknown embarrassment she was setting herself up for by trusting Fred’s bizarre candy while still being able to draw attention to Professor Mcgonagall if something bad did happen to her because of the candy.
In her authoritative yet supportive tone, Professor Mcgonagall started rambling on and on about human transformation. “These people who are able to change their physical appearance at one’s own will are known to be gifted with the power of metamorphmagus.” She paced the length of the room glancing to her left and right to make sure every single student was attending to what she had explained.
The other students had their quills and papers out and were focusing intently to scribbling down the whole mouthful of what Professor Mcgonagall was saying, all the while Bella was retrieving her memory from last week where Tonks was changing up her hair colour from shockingly bright pink to purple.
The ringing her voice cut Bella off from her daydream session, “People are born with the power, rarely though, there are skilled witches and wizards who do learn this power overtime.”.
“Do you think I am a skilled wizard, Professor? What do you reckon?” Teased a voice that rang immense familiarity to Bella. A frown drew itself upon Professor Mcgonagall’s forehead. She halted her journey of travelling around the classroom and turned to face Fred who was sitting at the far front of the classroom. Everyone could tell that she was stunned by his retaliation. She manage to stutter out an answer “I don’t quite understand what you are trying to get at, Mr.Weasley?”.
Fred emphasised and elongated the word “Well” in a high-pitched tone as his eyes darted across the classroom and fell upon Bella. She had not realised until then that this was his misdirection plan and instantly she unwraps the candy from the grip of her right hand.
Eyes bulging and heart racing as her gaze shifted to the double coloured candy. Bloody hell. Fred never told me which side does the trick to make me sick. I am going to hex him! Here goes nothing, I guess.
Quickly nibbling on the orange side of the candy, she prayed intensely that she was chewing on the right side. All at once her stomach felt as though it has been twisted and the contents of it were being forced out.
Thankfully his eyes were glued to her the entire time and abruptly he shouted making the other students jolt in their seat “Professor, Bella seems unwell. Let me send her off to the hospital wing.” With a scowl Professor Mcgonagall objected “Ms.Fortescue appeared fine seconds ago.” Her eyes gleamed with curiosity as she squinted them.
“Andddd is now sick. I got to bring her to the hospital wing. Sorry, professor.” He hurriedly collected his belongings and dashed his way to Bella who was utterly embarrassed about being the centre of attention while the nauseated expression drew itself across her face.
The warm palms took hold of her wrist and dragged her out of the class. Leaving the room full of bewilderment.
Their unrestrained laughter echoed throughout the empty halls as heartbeat quickens and breath shortens. The exhilaration they felt as their stomps brave them towards a new adventure together. Hands gripped tightly. They ran for their life. This is what being alive feels like the pair thought.
A grassy and earthy scenery filled the perimeter of their vision. This scene brings back innumerable amount of memories. Fred spotting Bella in a crowd of thousands when he was having a match. Fred bringing Bella and showing her cool tricks. Fred asking Bella to be his girlfriend. Instantaneously the pair was brought back from the flashing sea of memories to reality when Bella puked on the Quidditch pitch. “Way to diffuse the moment.” Teased Fred as Bella averted her eyes upwards to meet Fred who was practically beaming.
“Shove off. Why are we here?” Bella summoned all the power within her to be annoyed by Fred but could only muster a giggle and grin. His arms were outstretched as he pointed to a broomstick in the middle of the field “See that” his voice was tranquil and serious now “you need to trust me.” He gave her a sideways glance with hope illuminating in his aura. She put on a smug face and pestered him “Wellllll, I don’t know. After what just happened.”.
A sly expression fell upon his face “Bet.” He challenged. It startled Bella that the strong built of his upper body suddenly took hold of her legs and carried her body on his shoulder. Minutes ago the two were racing out of trouble and now she was propped on his shoulder while her vision faces where they stood minutes ago. As though his life depended on it, Fred ran faster than usual.
Propped to the nourished grassy field, Bella wobbled and tried to gain balance. “Hop on, then.” Fred’s hands move in an encouraging manner while his head nodded sideways beckoning Bella. Her steps were groggy and paced. At this precise moment Fred realises that she has trust issues with broomsticks. He slides himself onto the broomstick and steals her gaze with a tender expression that he counts on to be the thing that makes her have faith in him.
“Don’t you trust me, love?” He inquired while offering his hand to her. It took her a minute before she decided that she puts all her faith in him. As she takes tiny steps to him, the green eyes never broke the gaze to the brown one. There was an unspoken communication of trust in their eye contact.
She braced herself with courage and ascended the broomstick. He peered to his behind and benevolently said to her “Hold on tight.”. Though her arms may be short, it was the perfect size to wrap around his waist. Head leaning against his back she felt his warmth and goosebumps travel through her body. There was something intimate and sentimental about putting your trust in someone. Not a thing in the world matter as the pair soared off the grounds. Only the presence of each other became of great importance now.
From below clouds appear as though they are one thick dense layer, but as the two soar in between the clouds move constantly, flowing from here and there as though it had a journey. Deliberately the pair acquired a bird eyes view. A tiny tree near the Black Lake reminded her of the whispered conversations that seems days away now. The thrilling adventures in those halls are now ran through by minuscule figures. When one perceives the world this way everything seems small. It makes them realise that they have chosen each other to be a big part of one another’s life.
Far off Hogsmeade was a cliff and Fred was steering the broomstick towards that direction. Bit by bit buildings started to grow larger and larger as the broomstick descended to the ground.
The pair was greeted by the tender breeze, pushing them down to the soft grass, though it was thin it served as a nice comforting mattress where the pair laid down next to each other, above them were the deep blue ceiling and scattered all around it were fluff cottons shaped like various things. The pair took time guessing and teasing one another about the shapes they saw.
He pulled her close to embrace her into a cuddle. In the serene atmosphere, his cuddles felt like a little touch of heaven that was warm and secure. The pair wished they could just extend or even pause the time so they could just stay close forever, feeling right in the embrace. “Love, can I say something cheeky?” His voice never quivered with so much jitters. “Go for it.” She answered him, the eagerness to know increased. “With you, I start to believe that there is nothing to fear in life. I start to believe that there are happy days and love. I feel that I have found someone who is able to turn me head over heels. Makes me feel complete.”
Summary: Sometime after their separation, Killua and Gon meet once more. But being on the run from Illumi is hard, and Killua’s gone through measures to make sure people wouldn’t recognize him, even Gon.
It was a masquerade dance. One with bright colors and lavish decorations and everything expected from one of the richest hunters in the world. People were dressed in sharp, cleanly pressed suits and long, expert-woven gowns. Suits and dresses were fatuous, however, to the ornate masks that sat upon the guests’ heads. Some were embroidered with the thread of their homeland, others with precious jewels. Each hid a joyful face under the decorated material.
A boy of black hair and blue eyes found himself wearing one of these masks, a crystalline blue sort of color with white beads in a seemingly erratic pattern. His brand new suit became rumpled as he was zipped around disgruntled hunters and their companions by the firm hand of his little sister.
“Hey! Hey, Stop!”
The girl did end up stopping and turned around, a bright smile spreading across her youthful face. “Onii-chan, stop complaining. You promised you would enjoy this for me.”
Killua let out a long suffering sigh, the corners of his mouth eventually molding their way into a quirky smile as well. “I was enjoying it. I was enjoying watching you dance from the sidelines. I can continue to enjoy it from there.”
“Not on my watch. I’m not letting you leave this floor until you’ve danced at least once.” Alluka accentuated her point by giving her dress a little twirl, the movement drawing attention from prying eyes around the room. If Killua’s outfit was extravagant, then Alluka’s was downright ostentatious, the pink folds of her dress covered by a sheer golden sash, making it seem as if she had been wrapped in a glittering sunrise. She wore white, pristine gloves on her hands and brown woven flats on her feet. What she lacked in jewelry, her hair made up for. Long, shing black strands were curled into tight curls that rested on the top of her head in a flowery bun, two loose coils intertwined with golden thread and the beads she and Nanika were so fond of sat upon her chest.
Killua let himself be dragged off, only because he didn’t want anyone to try anything on his baby sister, but someone else had other plans in mind.
Killua whirled around at the voice. The warm and pleasant voice. The achingly familiar voice.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but do you mind if I steal this dance?”
…It’s ironic that right after I asked for paitrings I started writing this oneshot…
But that’s fine. I read the pairings.
And what I read…I liked.
It’s all mostly pairings I haven’t written yet, so it might be a bit until I feel good enough to try it out.
Anyways, I’ll make this short as I don’t want to waste any more of your time–this oneshot is…an expiriment. It has a new style that sort of just…happened…as I was writing it. If you don’t understand what happened after reading, then ask! I wouldn’t mind explaining and talking about it!
Hope you enjoy!
Fandom: Undertale, but specifically Dreamtale
Characters: Dream and mentioned-but-also-not Nightmare (Who belong to Joku)
Warnings: Implied Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Hate, Confusion, Implied Depression and…I think that’s it? Let me know!
Word Count: 1487
Imagine this: nothing.
Pure nothing, for as far as you can see. The nothing echoes back on itself, creating even more nothingness. It has no colour, and it’s so boring to look at but you can’t see anything else but this nothing so you have no choice but to look. It burns, sometimes, how much nothing there is. Other times, the nothing blends with itself, creating images that you know aren’t real, but can’t help to believe because they’re the only other thing besides nothing you can look at.
(Nothing count, including variations: 7
Improvement or worsening? Remains to be seen.
Words excluded: void, absence, nihility and nullity.)
This would be…fine, if that was all he’d ever known, ever remembered. That way he wouldn’t grieve over something that he hasn’t seen in who knows how long, wouldn’t miss the blue of the sky, the green of the grass, or even the terrifying sound of thunder.
But Dream once knew everything.
And that makes the nothing worse.
(It has been 12 3 dayshoursweeksmonthsminutes…something since the nothing happened.
It will be 00000∞ dayshoursweeksyearsmonths…something until the everything returns.)
SUMMARY - You decide to decorate the army base, where Bucky and Steve work in.
GENRE - fluff
WARNING - a few swear words, mentions of war
A/N - I’m am terribly sorry for including the granade launcher XM174. It was originally invented in 1968. I just wanted to give you a heads up. Also, Amanda is based off of my best friend :)) I personally advise you to read Amanda’s verses in a thick Russian accent. No hate on Russian people, I just made the character Russian, based on real, historic facts.
Y/N - your name
Y/L - your last name
F/D - favorite drink
L/C - lip color
E/C - eye color
Christmas was coming. You had decided long ago that everybody needed at least a little bit of Christmas spirit. It may or may not be the reason why you’re standing in an army base, decorating everything with vivid and lovely Christmas tree ornaments, various bright garlands, and a few gingerbread cookies, each shaped uniquely, here and there.
While you were focusing on making every soldier’s spirit lift, you softly hummed to the Christmas music playing in the background. Decorating came naturally to you because you were born into a family that cherished Christmas.
Your family didn’t like it because it was a Christian tradition or because gifts were given and received. No. It was because Christmas is a time everyone should spend with people they love and cherish. Growing up, your love for Christmas never sunk, only blossomed.
You were quite surprised when you decided to join the army as a nurse. By now, you had helped quite a few people. One of the things you were thankful for was your love, Bucky. You met him when you were training to shoot and use guns.
When you saw each other, you felt an immediate bond, so you decided to go out to dinner a few times, and before you knew it, you were in a relationship based on mutual respect and love.
“Gee, if I could only have my two front teeth,
Then I could wish you "Merry Christmas”. “
Sang Donald Gardner from the record player.
You, of course, were humming along to it, just like any other Christmas song. Every time you were listening to yuletide music, you tended to sway and hum to it. You didn’t even notice Bucky, Steve, Peggy, and other soldiers enter the room after a long and tiring day.
’‘Gosh, oh gee, how happy I’d be, if I could only whistle, ” you sang, “Oh, Bucky, you’re back!” you exclaimed happily after putting down the green, shiny, glass miniature Christmas tree you were holding.
“Hello, love. May ask what you’re doing with all of these Christmas decorations?” he asked you, after kissing you on your cheek. “Darling, don’t you see? I wanted to raise everyone’s spirits and make this room a little bit more colorful,” you said while getting back to decorating the gray and brown room.
“Y/N, as much as I love you, you can’t put garlands on guns and weapons,” Bucky said and exaggeratedly pointed to how many guns and weapons you had wrapped in Christmas lights or had tied little golden bells to.
You smirked and countered back: “Of course, I can. In fact, I already have.” He lightly shook his head at your ridiculous actions but decided to question you further: “Explain to me, how would you use this XM174 grenade launcher while it’s entirely covered in ornaments?”
“Simple! Now it’s a X-mas spirit launcher!” you gestured while grinning dorkily at Bucky. Again, he could do nothing more than gently chuckle at your antics.
“Come on, dove. Let’s go before Stark, or someone else freaks out at this ’'Christmas-army land”, “ Bucky spoke, while grabbing you by the waist and leading you outside.
Even though it was only December 2nd, you somehow had gotten lucky, there were white, soft snowflakes falling carelessly from the gray winter sky.
You made your way, hand in hand, to one of the best bars in town - ’'Neon Nights”- while laughing and secretly stealing glances at your partner.
“We’re here!” you announced cheerily to Bucky, looking at him expectantly. He took a few moments to eye the colorful looking bar up and down before giving you a nod, encouraging you to go inside.
“Well, I ain’t giving you a damn refund!” argued a loud, female voice, “These are tough times for everyone. Grow up!” Bucky was taken aback by the yelling but soon calmed down, getting used to it.
He took a good look at the two people, who seemed to be in a heated argument. One of them was a dark-haired woman, seemingly the bartender. The other one was a short man. The guy seemed like he didn’t know what to say and was looking embarrassed.
“Get out!” the girl continued and went back behind the bar to wash some empty beer glasses,“ You, my short, ugly friend, can’t expect me to give you back your blasted money if you put shards of glass in your meal. It doesn’t work that way!’'
You and Bucky gave the man a glance as he exited the pub and made your way to the front bar.
The man hurriedly stormed out of the full, lively pub in complete shame. ’'This ain’t my first rodeo,” the black-haired woman quietly said to herself while turning to get a look at you and your companion.
The woman swiftly changed her attitude when she noticed you: “Y/N Y/L, long time no see! And who might this be?” She enquired and pointed to Bucky, who was sitting beside you on a barstool.
“Hi, Amanda! Stop being so dramatic! We last spoke only a week before!” you replied, smiling at the lady. “Like I said, a bit too long,” she stated while eyeing Bucky, who seemed to be a bit uncomfortable, up and down, “Let me ask again, who is this gentleman?”
“Oh! This is Bucky! My lover? I told you about him?” you questioned your friend, trying to jog her memory. She seemed to remember, and affirmed while giving you a mischievous glance: “OH, you mean the one you’re madly in love with and want to marry? So this is the one man that my best gal here can’t take her eyes off. What can I get 'cha?”
At her comment, Bucky’s cheeks immediately turned slightly pink, as did yours. Even though he tried to hide it, Amanda saw it and smiled knowingly.
Now looking at her fully, he ordered a beer and you an F/D. Bucky was completely occupied with studying your best friend. He opened his mouth to ask her something, but Amanda cut him off by saying: “Russia, the Night Witches. Almost fell off one of the plane’s wings while trying to restart one of the engines. One of these babies is from when I won a whole load of money in a fight club. Still don’t know where he got the knife from.”
“Oh,” was all that Bucky could say, after learning a little bit about your friend. Another customer called Amanda over to order, so she left you two alone at the bar.
“So this is Amanda. No wonder you’ve got an attitude like that. Only makes me love you more, Y/N, ” stated Bucky. He looked into your E/C and then glanced at your L/C. He slowly leaned in and kissed you tenderly. It was soft and loving, like a lot of your previous kisses.
When both of you pulled back, you silently whispered: “I love you too, James.”
Summary: You are a Gray in the Outpost and it’s your turn to be questioned by Michael, but you are off put by his interrogation, and that draws him in.
Warnings: Honestly none, just some curse words.
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N: I haven’t really written blurbs, one shots, or imagines before but I’m, like, in love with Michael Langdon (and plenty others hehe). I hope you like it— let me know, please!! :)
The grout seemed impossible to keep clean, well, frankly, it all seemed hard to maintain. The tiles, any nooks and crannies, and any surface gathered dust faster than any Gray could clean. Wrists and knees and back felt strained with constantly scrubbing and wiping, and yours was no exception.
The tile in the kitchen was black and you weren’t sure if that was the original color of the grout or just the dirt was so caked on that it might as well stay. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead and your dress clung to your skin. You tugged at the fabric, trying to get a moments breath, but even the air felt uncomforable. It was stuffy and thick. Being underground felt like it wasn’t much better than the nuclear winter above. Hmm, well, maybe that was an exaggeration because the boils and cannibals definitely were well below the jello cubes and sweltering mess on things you preferred.
As a spec of dirt lifted and you saw the white grout, Ms. Venable walked in to tell you that it was your turn for questioning. You eyed the grout one last time as a ‘I’ll see you later’ look before making your way to Mr. Langdon’s office.
He scared you, and it felt just. To you, and that opinion wouldn’t have been too popular, it was more than unfair that only select people would be saved. Why not everyone? If humanity had fallen then why not round up all that still remained to start again? It made no sense to you, and as a Gray your chance felt slim.
As you pushed open the wooden door, you spotted Mr. Langdon behind his desk with the fire lighting the room. It was even warmer than the kitchen and you felt your skin tingle with heat. The hair that touched the nape of your neck began to stick and your throat dried.
“Have a seat, Ms. Y/L/N.”
You nodded and took a seat across from him. His blonde hair curled at his shoulders and ring clad fingers knocked against the tabletop. His stare was prisoning, and it felt toxic.
“Why would you be a good fit for the sanctuary?” He said.
Odd, you thought. You didn’t know how to really answer that. Why wouldn’t you? What answer could he possibly see as right? Did he just want you to list off all your admirable qualities, say your hips were just right to bear children, or that you just flat out deserved it?
You held your silence with your eyes on your lap. You picked the skin around your nails as you heard Mr. Langdon chuckle. It wasn’t friendly, not that you could tell, and it felt mocking.
“What makes you better than the rest?” He said.
Enough was enough. This was the guy—the hero— to save a few? He was an absolute schmuck, and his questions were baseless.
“And what qualifies you to decide who deserves to live and who doesn’t?” You said.
“Ah, a moral compass,” He smiled. “How heavenly and refreshing.”
My God, you thought, he’s a sarcastic jerk! You crossed your arms, furrowed your brow, straightened your lips. Of course, you wanted to be taken away from here— you all did! It felt so wrong, so corrupt to place a value on your life that was higher than someone else’s. Survival of the fittest, sure, but what the hell? It was the apocalypse and the meltdown kinda, sorta put everyone on the same playing field. The Purple’s had money and good DNA to get them here, but what then? Currency didn’t matter, social standing only held within the Outpost, and suitable DNA meant what exactly— what did it mean for the future?
You had so many questions. Too many for your own good.
“I bet you feel like your principles put you in a better standing.” He said with a smirk that you wished you would wipe away with bleach.
He got up from his seat and walked to the front of his desk, sitting on the edge of the corner. His hands folded in his lap and his eyes felt like they were boring holes into you.
“They don’t mean anything to anyone but me.” You said.
“Why wouldn’t they? You see yourself as the salt of the earth.”
Your skin was reddening and your words, even in your mind, were escaping you. He was putting everything out in front of you that was supposed to be true, but it was all twisted. It was absolutely horrifying. Nothing you could say could convince him otherwise because he’ll just turn it on its head.
“Mr. Langdon, if you have all the answers then why are you asking me any questions at all?”
“Because you’re curious.”
Well, yeah, but not about yourself. You had no idea what he was getting at.
The next day, Mr. Langdon still underwent his questions with the others. All the Purple’s felt as if they knew they’d make it and sure to voice those opinions proudly.
You were plating the half cubes, getting ready to serve dinner as most of the other Gray’s were either sneaking around trying to get into Mr. Langdon’s room to further their chances, and the rest were cleaning. Only you and another Gray were getting ready for dinner that evening, and he had walked into the back section where the supplies were to retrieve spoons and forks.
Mr. Langdon walked in, suited in his exclusive black outfit that seemingly fit him perfectly. The darkness was surely an instrument to his allure. Yet, It was such a contrast to the gold of his hair, so soft and light. His locks were that of stars that dissolved into a golden waterfall. What the actual hell are you thinking! You almost felt your eyes bug out from having those thoughts.
“Ms. Y/L/N,” He said. “I have some more questions.”
I guess the other Gray’s were shot down in their luck, and yours seemed to be staggering.
“No offense, sir, but I don’t think there’s much left to say.” You said.
“Oh, but there’s so much.”
You told the other Gray that you’d be leaving, much to your distaste. You could tell he was a bit annoyed that you got to talk to Mr. Langdon again and that he would be alone to finish. You said, “Sorry,” more times than you could count before Mr. Langdon coughed, whisking you away back into his ill-defined room.
You kept eye-balling the laptop with an email all typed up and still on the screen. How did he send out his messages?
“Funny thing, an infrastructure is.” He smiled while walking behind your seat. His placed his hands on both ends of the backrest. His head was inches above your own. You could feel his breath hit the apex of your head every time he exhaled or spoke.
You didn’t answer, but instead just held your breath. You were even more nervous, mainly with him being so close. His presence was eclipsed in a hazy mystery, and it was unnerving. He didn’t seem to ever want to bend his intensity and fear only seemed to fuel it more.
“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done? Be honest with me, angel.” He said.
You gasped, shocked by his question and what followed suit. God, it was so hard not to be frightened by him, not to be intimated, or slightly intrigued. You were a mess. An unbelievably shaky mess with no reasoning left.
“I’m not sure.” You said under your breath.
“Yes, you do. It’s always on the forefront of your mind. I know you can’t stop thinking about it. You haven’t told anyone, scared of the judgment, and what saying it aloud will bring. But you want to confess, repent, and have that burden lifted to someone else.”
Wh-how did he know? If he knew that then why even say it? Oh, that’s right because you want, no, need, someone to hear it.
“Uh,” You mumbled. “I-I didn’t see my grandma before she died.”
“Go on,” He said, his hands moving closer the center of the chair and closer to your body.
“She called to invite me over for pumpkin pie that her and her home care worker made. I didn’t go because I was tired from school and hated pumpkin, so I lied and said I was sick. The next morning she had a stroke and passed. I found the pie with my name and a heart on the aluminum in her fridge a couple days later.”
His fingers reached out and played with ends of your hair. If it wasn’t for the maddening situation you were in then you might have enjoyed the gesture. Just maybe. Mr. Langdon would might have to undergo to hospitality classes for you to willingly take on his company.
“I bet you still didn’t eat it.” He said.
You shook your head. It sounded so silly, but it meant so much more to you than icky pie and lies. You dodged seeing the one person who loved you more than any earthly emotion could withstand. Even in her old age, you thought you had time, more time than her eight decades. Her existence seemed timeless with her sitting next to you or a phone call away. It never sat in that it all could stop so soon, without notice or warning, and she’d be gone forever. And all that was left was memories and belongings.
He laughed before leaning upright. His hand squeezed your shoulder. You weren’t sure if it was of sympathy or humor. Why was he even laughing in the first place?
“If it’s so funny then what’s the worst thing you’ve done?” You said.
It was a low-blow counter. It was pointless to know his demons because it was just a justification of your own, and that served no one in the end.
“Mine’s a little damnable,” He said. “There’s too many to pick from and I know your heart couldn’t take it and ears wouldn’t want to hear it.”
You turned in your seat, looking up at him. Eyes to eyes and soul to soul.
“Why?” You paused. “What’s the point of all this?” You said while gestured to yourself and the entirely of the Outpost. “The depraved questions, select survivors, and this back and forth?”
He reached down to tuck your hair behind your ear, pads of his fingers grazing the spot between the back of your ear and hairline. You pulled away to stand up. You needed more distance from him. His touch was lethal.
“Humanity has been reinstated, but the blue print is different. It has to be for things to work.”
For things to work? How vague and unhelpful! You sighed, running your hands over your face, and feeling your strength dissipate.
“No need to worry, angel.” He said. “I have your future figured out.”
The following hours, you hid yourself away in your room. You were surprised that Ms. Venable and or Ms. Mead didn’t charge in with guns blazing and a collection of insults.
You were stripped of your gray dress, left in your white slip, but covered under the knitted blanket. All the while you had yourself tucked away from the confusion of what was out in the shelter, your mind wandered. It drifted to the furtherest corners of your expanse, colliding with every atom— all your thoughts, ideas, notions, just anything and everything. No part of you was left untouched in those moments, you felt so exposed.
Mr. Langdon opened you up, guiding your exploration. He lead you to divulging a secret, remembering pains, and trying to see yourself for you were really were. But that was hard, it was nearly impossible. Every thought you had, had been corrupted. Time and your own doing had tinkered with reality, warping and twisting the truth. Nothing was truly as it once was, in that moment and any other moment. It was gone forever, but constantly replaced by each reflection into a new version.
The pain of your grandmother wasn’t the same and neither was the memory of her. The accumulation of memories and experiences added to any specific one, and so everything felt like it ran together. The pain of rejection from your tenth grade crush only encouraged the pain of the passing of your grandma, and vice versa.
Then who were you?
Your brain felt like it was frying, sizzling under the microscope you put it under. The introspection felt like it was doing more harm than good. You pulled the pillow over your head and groaned. How on earth did things end how they were and why does being human mean feeling so deeply that it carves out your core?
With the pillow over your head and your groan, you hadn’t noticed a knock at the door. It was faint, an unsure action. But the door opening and Mr. Langdon walking in was definitely a sured force.
“You’re letting curiosity get the better of your wits.” He said.
You spring from your position, sitting upright in the bed. Mr. Langdon smiled, no, he smirked, as he sat at the foot of your bed. Your heart was racing, hammering in your chest. It could beat right through the silver of your ribs and through your skin.
“Get out!” You said. “Wha-I- get out!”
“You’re scared. You don’t understand yourself anymore than what’s happening around you. You’re reaching for a center piece that brings all your passion to a point.”
He’s nuts, absolutely and unfalteringly nutty. Raised brows, upturned corners of lips, and complacent shoulders. If only you could reach over and slap the smug right on out of him and into you. God, that would make things so much easier.
Hmm, maybe he’s right. You are looking for that focal point to make sense of all your outlying emotions. Everything would be accessible, uncomplicated even, if it all was just one little dot in your mind. You wouldn’t have to fetch one concern, let it go for another, and travel all around to understand.
“I understand what you’re feeling.” He said and for the first time his eyes darted down. His shouldered loosened and his bravado seemed transparent. “I used to be that way. Scared, unsure, and lost.”
With Mr. Langdon bearing more of himself than you thought he had, you peeked over the wall you built against him. You felt a longing that connected with his pain, and you just had to know.
“What changed?” You said.
“Control.” He said. “I gained control over my life, with some help, and I know now what I want, how I am, and what to do. There is no more doubt or worries.”
He made it sound so easy. Like getting a counselor and taking to heart everything they said, and following through with it. As if. Easier said than done, or is it? Mr. Langdon did it.
“Let me help you.” He said.
He shifted further up your bed, his body at your knees. He reached over, pulling your hand that held your blanket over your chest. Your hands rested beside you on the bed. Your skin burned by his touch, skin glowing red— all the way to your chest and cheeks. You wanted to pull away from him, but the moment felt too raw, too honest. You didn’t understand what he meant, but seeded hope of the sanctuary in your mind.
“Mr. Langdon,” You said. “Why?”
He smiled and for the first time, it seemed like it was from his heart. It was kind, unfettered from any malice— of anything that he’d shown earlier in the day and prior.
“You can be great, angel. I know you can be with my help.”
It’s god-knows-what-o’clock, the last time he checked it was nearing midnight. The boy couldn’t bring himself to turn over and check again, partly for fear of the results, and partly for fear of losing the on-going staring contest he’s having. Oikawa blinks, and he swears the ceiling blinks back.
There’s an uneasy stillness around his room, he feels like he’s disrupting it. He should be sleeping, he’s never felt more exhausted, but some part of his brain just won’t shut off. He clenches his fists, then releases, flexes his toes and releases, pushes his shoulders back, then releases, trying to relieve some of the restlessness he feels. It doesn’t work, only furthers his urge to move, twist around, do anything but lie there and watch his ceiling.
He closes his eyes, too forcefully, trying to conjure up images of sheep or the ocean, something to lull him. All he sees is the ball, that flash of blue and yellow, dancing across his fingers, escaping his grip, plummeting to the floor, too close to the white line, it’s out of his control now it’s-
Out! Signals the whistle of the referee. Oikawa jolts upright.
He has to move, every part of him is twitching. His hands are in his lap, clench, release, clench, release, grip the comforter until your knuckles turn white. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t get the game off of his mind. His teammates tried to encourage him, coach had to step in to talk to him because he probably doesn’t trust you anymore, his opponents had those smug looks, even Iwaizumi didn’t know what to say.
Iwaizumi. He didn’t speak to Oikawa after the game, he was too exhausted from picking up his slack. He didn’t even have his usual “you-fucked-up” scowl on, he just looked disappointed.
Oikawa gets out of bed, fumbling a bit as he slides on his pajama pants, grabs a t-shirt. He has to know where he went wrong, what he needs to do, how he can never make those mistakes again. He uses the back door, having gone through this routine enough times to know his parents wouldn’t hear him. It’s cold, but Oikawa is so wired the chill barely affects him. Every set, every call, every spike is running over and over again in his mind as he hurries down the street, route memorized.
Tags: Kidfic, Age Difference, Christmas Fluff, Pining, Anal Sex, Employees to lovers
With Harry up against his side, his little four year old snuggled in his lap like it’s her favourite place, Louis could really believe they’re a real little family, off to their chalet to spend Christmas in the snow. A real little family where Louis would have the luxury of kissing Harry under mistletoe and rolling around in the fresh snow with him, taking him upstairs to his bedroom and fucking him to keep him warm.
(harry is louis’ daughters’ au pair. they spend christmas in austria)
Prompt(s): A86. “Because you’re so young.” / B43. “We’re friends, you can tell me anything.” from @swanimagines’s prompt list [xxx]
Summary: Georgie seems too young to know anything about love but that doesn’t mean he can’t be his big brother’s wingman.
Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: I’m sorry if this one is a bit different from normal. I’m trying to get back into writing and for some reason I felt out of my element while writing this one.
Your hand swung side to side as you waved back at your friends. Behind you, Bill offered a sheepish smile to his friends, fiddling with the house key in his hand as he walked to the front door. After saying goodbye to your friends, you turned around and followed closely behind Bill, rocking on your heels as he messed with the keys.
A few moments of struggling later, you two were able to step foot in the house. Your shoulders relaxed at the familiar atmosphere. You’d known Bill for a long time since both of you were in kindergarten. His house was not something new to you, you had plenty of playdates as a kid and every summer you would spend practically every weekend in his house.
“(Y/n)!” Georgie came running down the stairs, a wide smile plastered on his face. Your hands shook a little as you extended your arms towards him out of worry. Thinking you were offering a hug, Georgie only ran faster and jumped into your arms as soon as he made it to the entrance.