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elysianslove · 4 years ago

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character studies; haikyuu boys

requested by anon(s); character studies for haikyuu boys that had been requested for my 1k Event around a month back! sorry for making you bbys wait so long :(

characters; hoshiumi kōrai, kuroo tetsurō, kageyama tobio, daishō suguru, daichi sawamura, asahi azumane, miya atsumu, kita shinsuke, iwaizumi hajime

synopsis;

the character’s general personality

the character’s general motivation

the character’s motivation towards you

the character’s love language

the character’s preferred dates

what kissing the character feels like

what being with the character feels like

genre; fluff

warnings; just some curse words!

notes; if you’re interested in other characters, check out my masterlist! :) if you requested for a jujutsu kaisen character and i haven’t written for them yet, don’t worry, i will!

HOSHIUMI KŌRAI

hoshiumi’s general personality; there isn’t enough of this cutie honestly :( but honestly, the more i read of his personality and see of him in manga panels, the more i love him. i hope i can put this in words: hoshiumi is scarily skilled, in the sense that when you watch him, you’re not intimidated by him, but rather, in awe. you can visibly see all the effort he’d put into honing his skills whenever you watch him play. especially because he’s so quiet and concentrated during games, making him a completely different person on court. as a person, i see him as being extremely reliable and having a really strong, but quiet presence. so that when you’re around him, he doesn’t have to speak to let himself be known, you know? also! i remember him being really offended when an interviewer commented about how good of a player he is despite his height, and i honestly understand it. no matter what he does, he’s constantly being reduced to just his height, and how that influences everything, but there’s so much more to him than that. of course, his reasoning behind joining volleyball and becoming one of the best in japan is a little silly, but he is driven in general, and very determined. but i also don’t think he’s smug or overly confident or arrogant about his skills, even if he should because of the ladder he’d had to climb to get to where he is. he’s confident, of course, but he’s not annoyingly so. he won’t rub it in anyone’s face, because he has peace with it, in a way? like he himself is aware of it, so there’s no need to get that constant validation from others. like i said, him on court and him off court are two different people: so yes, he does love being showered in appreciation and attention, but for him, not for his volleyball self. he knows he’s good at volleyball, but appreciate him for more than that, for more than being so good despite being short; appreciate him for being caring, for being diligent and hard-working, for being a constant, reassuring and uplifting presence in everyone’s life. as i mention in the motivation section, i think hoshiumi is a very curious individual, in the sense that he’s always looking for adventure, always looking for something to catch his eye, snatch away his attention, to leave him in awe, to leave him breathless and exhilarated. i don’t think he’s an adrenaline junkie, after having said that, but i do think he’s in love with spontaneity.

motivation; i think hoshiumi’s motivation is very simple, and it’s to better himself. to not have his inspiration and drive rely solely on to be a better version of his brother, to be better than his brother in general, but rather improve so that he can hone his own skills, so he can wow everyone around him, to be given the title of best spiker without a single comment on his height, to the best, regardless. to be the best just because he is the best. towards you, it would probably be his curiosity. like i mentioned above, i see him as really curious, so he watches you from afar, observes you, wondering how much more there is to you, wanting to learn more about you. he wants to learn of your interests and hobbies, whether they align with his or not, whether he can give you all you want or not.

hoshiumi’s love language; physical touch and acts of service. despite what i initially thought, i don’t think he’d be too into pda. he won’t mind kissing you in front of others, of course, because there is a little part of him that’s incredibly smug about being your partner. but then again, he prefers things like holding onto your hand, or linking your pinkies together, or piggy back rides. he loves to constantly be helping you somehow, and also consecutively feed into his ego a lil, so he’ll constantly be carrying your things for you, helping you cook by cutting up vegetables, or handing you ingredients, or helping you renovate your room at three in the morning. he really likes the little things that build up to shape domesticity between the two of you, but loudly, you know? as in the love he has for you is well-known: he’ll proudly wear your scrunchie on his wrist, or let you do a little make up on him and walk around with it. he’d tattoo your name on his forehead if he could.

hoshiumi’s preferred dates; the beach, hiking, theme parks, staying in and playing physically active games like twister, fast food drive throughs

kissing hoshiumi; really playful, and a little giggly too. it’s not silly kissing, it’s serene, but it leaves you feeling all bubbly in the way he wraps his arms around your neck and pushes you to him like you’re the only one that matters in this world

what being with hoshiumi feels like; baking with someone and making a mess with the ingredients, but you can’t stop laughing

KUROO TETSURŌ

kuroo’s general personality; oh boy here we go. okay so we all know provocative, smug, cheeky kuroo, yeah? and i firmly believe that yes, that really a part of his personality. there is a part of him that really is like that. a person’s personality is never black and white, and that’s exactly the case with kuroo: there’s a lot to him. it’s not just that at first glance he seems intimidating and scarily attractive, he is. but i think there’s a reason for that, and in a way, it’s a coping mechanism. kuroo is, deep down, a huge dork, and a really big nerd. but like i said, there’s nothing wrong with being both that and a little bit of an asshole sometimes. it’s just that i think there’s a reason that other part of his personality developed, and it’s a way to protect himself, you know? i’m pretty sure it’s canon that kuroo’s parents didn’t entirely get along, and it’s really easy to feel alone in situations like that, so that really suave and attractive and charming part of him developed so that he can attract people to him, so that he can have this pulling effect on others. it makes you want to spend time with him, lose yourself to the hours with him. that doesn’t mean kuroo tries to hold back his nerdy side, or that he’s ashamed of his funnier, dorkier side. if anything, i think he’s pretty confident in both sides of him. because just as that ‘cool’ side of him is dazzling, the louder, cheekier side of him is pretty charming too. on a completely separate note, i think kuroo cares, oh he cares so much. his heart is too big, if i’m being honest. he wants his friends to succeed, wants to see them be their best, is always pushing them to be better. he means it, he really does. he won’t say it out loud, but if you need him, he’s staying up extra hours for you, getting you your favorite snacks, being extra touchy on a day he notices you’re upset. he’s very aware of everyone’s emotions around him, and that might be because of his parents too, in which he’s become really hyper aware of any telltale signs, you know? all that being said, pair him with bokuto and he’s a crackhead

motivation; i honestly think kuroo always puts people above himself. i can’t explain why, but i just know that he does. make sure my friends are okay, then i’ll check on myself. push my friends to do better, and then work on motivating myself. watch my friends succeed before i look at how far i’ve come. being so proud of his friends, before he realizes how proud he is of himself too. so, in turn, his motivation would be the people around him. he thrives on communication and socializing and having strong, close connections and relationships with people. that is his main motivation. in regards to you, it’s a little different. i mentioned in one of my headcanons for him that he’s really suave and cool around everyone except his crush, and i stand by that, honestly. the only way to rid himself of that nervousness and endless amount of butterflies in his stomach would be to confess to you, removing that weight off of him. also you’re like, really pretty lol

kuroo’s love language; very touchy, very, very touchy, so it’s definitely physical affection and physical touch, with possibly acts of service. acts of service in that he notices when you stay up late to help him practice, or his own willingness to stay with you as you power through an all-nighter, or just silently knowing right away what either of you need without having to speak. he loves, loves, loves pda. he will make out with you in public, he doesn’t care, nothing can stop him. likes to have his arm around you constantly, or does that stupid thing where he puts his hand in your back pocket, or approaching you from behind and and hugging you and kissing all over your neck even if you’re in the middle of a conversation with someone

kuroo’s preferred dates; literally anything they’re all fun with him. fancy dinners or diner visits, movie dates at the cinema or at home, arcade visits, walks at the park, the beach

kissing kuroo; oh it’s breathtaking. it’s always really passionate, and always has you gripping at his shirt at the way he forces your heart into your throat, or the way he has your stomach flipping at the small gasps he lets out when he kisses you open mouthed, which happens more often than not

what being with kuroo feels like; like hugging someone you haven’t seen in years, where your arms are thrown around them tightly and they hold you to them and your heart is about to burst from your chest

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

kageyama’s general personality; the most misunderstood character :( he is not just an angry boy >:( he is just really, really passionate, especially about volleyball, and he wants other people to try and share that passion with him. he’s just really bad at expressing his feelings, and communicating with other people. like all it is is that kageyama loves volleyball, and he takes it very seriously, and when other people don’t, he takes slight offense to that, because in his eyes it just seems after they’re discarding or mocking the sport. that annoyance translates wrong into anger, but the place it originates from really is just pure. have you seen how happy volleyball makes him? he’s not a bad person, not by a long shot. and his character development too! it wasn’t that he wasn’t willing to communicate, it was that people weren’t willing to try with him. they took him for what he seemed like, not what he truly is. when he joined karasuno, they allowed him space to properly express himself, and they introduced him to what became a family to him. he learned to trust, learned to communicate. he’s not a bad person!! he’s just!!! a kid!!! he learns, slowly but surely, and he changes, for the better. okay but, completely different thing to mention. kageyama’s good at volleyball. no, he’s good. and he knows he is. he’s not really smug about it, but it’s not like his confidence is misplaced. he’s just aware of his skills, but he’s also aware of his flaws, and as he grows as a person, he’s more willing to take a step back and look and observe himself, to better himself as a player. i also think kags is insanely determined. like that episode where he studied his ass off just so he could pass and barely made it to the tokyo training camp? how does that directly translate into determination? he really is willing to put his all and more to improve, to play, to the best.

motivation; like i mentioned above, it’s definitely to become improve himself. it’s not that he’s never satisfied with how he is or his skills, it’s more that he’s sure there’s still more space for him to better himself, that this isn’t all that he’s capable of and that he can do better, that he can be better. like i said, it’s not that he puts himself down about not being enough, on the contrary; he believes that he’s one of the best, but that’s not his limit, there’s more to him, there’s more for him to explore. towards you is a little bit trickier, honestly. he honestly wouldn’t even know he has a crush on you until one of his upperclassmen noticed his reactions towards you, and they confront him about him to which he responds ‘oh, so that’s what that is?’ like he really is so clueless. i don’t think he’d have a full on motivation with you, he just wants to be around you, because he finds that he kind of does enjoy the feeling he experiences when he’s around you. it’s really as simple as that

kageyama’s love language; acts of service, absolutely, and, privately, physical touch. it’s not that he won’t hold your hand if you slip it in his, or he won’t return your kiss if you do kiss him in public, but it’s more of you’re the one that usually initiates these things. but! that does not mean kageyama isn’t touchy. he really is, a hundred and ten percent, touch starved. look at him! please! he is craving your touch almost always, he just doesn’t like initiating it in public, and occasionally he’ll take the initiative at home. but please, hug him, hold him, cuddle him, grasp his hand for hours, kiss all over his face. he absolutely adores it. and he shows his love better, takes initiative of it more, when it comes to giving. one of my headcanons for him i mentioned that whenever he gets milk from the vending machine, he gets you your favorite snack too, just because in his head he’s like ‘oh, they’d like that.’ it’s things like that with kags.

kageyama’s preferred dates; don’t do anything involving competitiveness he will go crazy. but things like carnival dates, or diner visits, or ice skating, or stargazing

kissing kageyama; really soft and sweet. it’s very timid and careful and cautious, but he always kisses you fully on the lips, his eyes fluttering shit, his hand coming to rest at the base of your throat, slightly on your chest

what being with kageyama feels like; falling asleep on the beach, sunburnt, with sand and salt on your skin, your body warm but the breeze cool

DAISHŌ SUGURU

daishō’s general personality; i feel like all the haikyuu boys have so much more to them than what seems as a front. like our introduction to suguru was him being this snake-like, manipulative character. i mean nearly all his and his teammates tactics against nekoma were related to manipulation. but why is he inclined to that trait? i don’t know much about canon him, but i like to think that he was kind of in the shadow when he was younger, and the only way he could’ve gotten people to listen or pay attention to him was being this unlikeable and intimidating character. but canon-wise, i think just as his manipulativeness is his strength, it’s also his weakness, and i also think he’s really aware of that, and he knows this tactic has its faults. i also don’t think he’s insanely determined, because yeah he was upset after the match with nekoma, but it wasn’t earth-shattering. from what i’ve seen with his interactions with mika, though, i think he’s very loving, deep down, and very subtly. he doesn’t show it outwardly, but you can see the way he looks at her, the way he gets so proud whenever she remembers something about volleyball. i don’t think he’s a bad person, per se, because at the end of the day, this is also seventeen, eighteen year old suguru, and there’s so much space for him to grow out of this. i think it’s more that he’s the type of person to prefer the easy way out, so he relies on things like getting on the referee’s good side. it could also be that he’s aware of his downfalls so he wants to have anything to his and his team’s advantage, you know? it’s not to say he doesn’t put in effort, because i still think he does, or even that he’s lazy, but it’s more that he wants something and he has a way of getting it that’s faster for him, you know? like i said, i don’t think he’s a bad person, at all. everybody has their flaws, and i think all the haikyuu boys have their own, it’s just that suguru’s is more explicit.

motivation; so like i mentioned how he likes the easy way out, i think suguru’s motivation would be to have high achievements. he seems like an insatiable person, one that always wants more, and more, and more, so he’s always climbing up higher. but also, even though he’s insatiable, he kinda? gives up easily? or not that he gives up easily, it’s more that he’s okay with a loss, or that he accepts defeat relatively easy with a shrug, as in “there’ll be more opportunities, it’s not the end of the world.” towards you, suguru would probably want to have you as his s/o to prove to himself, or to prove to others, that’s capable or worthy of someone like you. it’s kind of sad in a way, because in his head you’re way out of his league, but he makes it seem as a front that you’re just barely worthy of him when he asks you out, simply as a defense mechanism.

daishō love language; subtle acts of affection, 100%. you could see how happy he was to explain to mika all about volleyball, and how happy he was to know that she had been listening and actually putting in an effort to understand the sport that he likes. it’s things like that that really, really matter to him. listening intently when the other speaks of something they’re passionate about, remembering tiny details, like their favorite drink, or their go-to order at a restaurant, or something they’d mentioned in passing that they really wanted, or the way they prefer to sleep at night. that’s the way he expresses his love, definitely.

daishō’s preferred dates; visiting movie theaters, staying in, late night strolls on the beach, clubs/parties

kissing daishō; really, really slow and lazy, kinda lewd as well, in that it’s shameless, and loud

what being with daishō feels like; the feeling when you predict a plot twist in a movie or show correctly

DAICHI SAWAMURA

daichi’s general personality; dad. what a dad. such a Dad. dadchi sawamura. i think it’s very obvious that he’s a very mature character, and he easily fits in the role of a leader. i think him being captain is perfect, because he leads the team perfectly, and he knows all his teammates really well, and is able to respond to each of them correctly, knows how to motivate them perfectly. in that way, he’s a very, very reliable person. he’s someone you can lean on constantly, whenever, wherever. someone you can turn to knowing that your best interests are in their mind when he reaches out to give you advice. he’s someone that will tell you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear. he’s also not the type of person that considers the role of a leader and captain as a burden, not someone that thinks it’s a really big responsibility which he wishes can be taken off his shoulders from time to time. no, he appreciates the role, and takes it with all of its heavy weight. he’s really independent and mature in that sense. it’s not to say that he’s very stable constantly, because everyone has their moments, and although he really is unbothered by the responsibility, i think he constantly overthinks his decisions. maybe not so often, but it happens, because every decision he’s ever taken has impacted all of his teammates consecutively, you know? he has to think big, consider the big picture. but yeah, daichi is a very reliable and mature person. will it get annoying and will it have you begging him to loosen up every once in a while? maybe, but is he also very childish at times? yes. make sure to get it on camera though

motivation; much like kuroo, the fact that they’re both captains aside, he does everything for other people. it’s different though because kuroo puts other people above himself, but daichi thinks for everyone including himself. the only one with braincells. he thinks broadly, and considers all consequences for both himself, and for others. his motivation would probably be to see himself and everyone succeed and be their best, to see their efforts put into work, to be able to be incredibly proud of everything they’ve achieved. he really is such a dad. towards you, however, it’s a lot sweeter, and it’d be something like his infatuation with you. he’d want to be the reason for your happiness, wants to be yours, wants you to be all his. kinda possessive but like, in a sweet way.

daichi’s love language; confessions and domestic acts. daichi is unafraid to let you know he loves you, regardless of who’s around, or where you two are. he’s super okay with wrapping his ams around you randomly and just pressing a kiss to your temple and going “i love you.” he doesn’t know why he does it so often, maybe every time he says it, it reassures him. domestic acts in how he’s so comfortable waking up next to you, or how when you sleep over at his house you still get up and make breakfast, or how even folding laundry together is fun. he finds huge comfort in being able to appreciate the most mundane things, like doing the dishes or cleaning around the house, can feel so serene and loving with you.

daichi’s preferred dates; fancy dinners, mini golf, theme parks, road trips, driving up mountains

kissing daichi; weirdly, it’s not soft as you’d expect, more rough and possessive. he always kisses you like someone is watching and he wants to show you off, to prove that you’re all his.

what being with daichi feels like; listening to a love song and feeling nostalgic, even if you’ve never been in love

ASAHI AZUMANE

asahi’s general personality; oh i love this big teddy bear <3 that’s literally what he is. i absolutely adore the fact that he’s really intimidating physically, but his personality is the farthest thing from it; in fact, it’s the complete opposite. i have something important to include though!! in the same way asahi’s very fragile, especially his esteem, and the same way he guilts himself entirely and places the blame on himself whenever something goes wrong, he’s also very easily, and very steadily uplifted (as in, a win is a win, it’s sure and certain and it’s grounding), very easy to accept wins for everyone, not just take all the credit. when he spikes a ball and they score a point, it’s not a win for him, it’s a win for the entire team. that easily translates to asahi being a very giving and thoughtful person. he has a heart too big for him, and yes he’s an over-thinker, but that just means he’s mindful of others, very cautious and careful. although i think if you approach him with an issue, like you’re straight up sobbing, at first he’d be a little wary and anxious and awkward, i also believe he’d be exceptionally good at comforting someone after a few moments. his presence alone is comforting, but he knows if you need to be held or not, knows if you need to be listened to simply, or if you want advice as well, knows if you need comfort in food, or comfort in distraction. asahi just knows. and he’s definitely the one that uses that physical intimidation to his advantage when it comes to like, walking girls home, so that no one bothers them, or being in the same area as someone he knows that’s constantly bullied because just his figure alone scares them off. and my goodness, he’d definitely just subtly slide up beside a girl that he’s noticed is being eyed by men. he’s just... really pure.

motivation; i think asahi’s motivation is a little more personal, and it’s probably to believe more in himself. it’s to put himself in situations where his skills are tested so that he can improve, to lessen of his fears, to lessen of his self-doubt, to grow more confident and sure of himself, you know? towards you, oh my god. asahi would never approach you. he really wants to, because he really likes you, has liked you for as long as he can remember, but he won’t approach you, unless one of his friends threatens to do it for him. that’d probably be it honestly: he just chooses to embarrass himself instead of having anyone else embarrass him. at least he has a little more control in that former option.

asahi’s love language; he’s most definitely touch starved, so physical affection!!! he always wants to be touching you, even if it’s simple hand holding. he definitely links your pinkies together too! and honestly, i think he would like public displays of affection, even if it gets him really flustered. of course, don’t straight up make out with him in the middle of a public setting, but give him a little peck on his lips, or cheek kisses, or random hugs where you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head on his chest and press a little kiss there too. also!!! forehead kisses!!!! he always, always gives those!!!

asahi’s preferred dates; stargazing, beach picnics, park visits, nights in, any place he can dance with you to slow, serene music honestly

kissing asahi; it always makes you feel all warm inside, and always flutters the butterflies in your stomach. it’s not slow, nor is it fast, it’s just steady, but it’s pouring love and passion

what being with asahi feels like; being the only one awake at home at a really late timing

MIYA ATSUMU

atsumu’s general personality; i’m sorry if i bore you guys because fair warning, this bout to be long as hell. unlike oikawa, who i think has this charming, intimidatingly skilled attitude as a front, i think atsumu’s personality is just expressed or comes off incorrectly. as in, for example, he’s really sensitive when it comes to carelessness in regards to volleyball, but it comes off as selfishness and rudeness, even though the origin of it all isn’t his want to be rude. it’s not that he doesn’t know how to express his feelings either, because i know that his feelings are loud, it’s just that he doesn’t know how to make it add up, in a way? i also think he’s self-centered, yes, but as a defense mechanism. this is gonna sound really sad but it’s more like, “i won’t give you a chance to make something awful to hate about me,” and something like, “i’m in control of why they hate me.” also, there’s no way that never affected him. maybe as a child, it didn’t really cross his thoughts, because he’s always had osamu anyways, and he couldn’t really make sense of it all, but as he grew older, the more it became clearer that he wasn’t entirely likable, and that really took a toll on him, worsening his attitude towards people. people aren’t rude for no reason, you know? there’s always a place it stemmed from. he takes refuge in that he’s good at volleyball. yeah he’s a piece of shit, but his setting? no one can top it. he has that, and he owns it, and no one can take it away from him. i think atsumu’s one of those people where, over the years, you can watch and see their light dim, in a way. like he’s not a depressed person or anything like that, he just becomes less and less... bright? angrier, irritable, less inclined to trust others and let them in, self conceited. it’s also probably a result of being left out or rejected by others. but the thing is, atsumu is all these things, but he’s also childlike, and so full of love. you can see the way he interacts on the court, his dynamic with his teammates, the way he reacts to kita’s ‘get well soon’ bag. he really is just a ball of sunshine, but it’s all cooped up inside. it’s been buried underneath a mountain of self destructive thoughts and negativity from others. i also consider him a very impulsive person, the type to never think twice before anything, but that can translate into spontaneity too! it’s both a positive and a negative thing. atsumu is also very, very trustworthy person. in short, atsumu is very cheery once around the right people, in the right setting, but he’s so quick to shift into intimidation if necessary.

motivation; of course, just like osamu, atsumu’s main drive is his brother, whose been there since he was born. there’s no one he can rely on as much as osamu, regardless of their unbelievable competitiveness and their constant arguments. however, i think there’s a little more to atsumu. going off on what i mentioned above, volleyball is his safe haven. it’s something he can fall back on and be sure and certain of the safety net available. it’s not what makes him atsumu, but it’s a big part of him, a big part of shaping his personality, which is why i think constantly improving is atsumu’s other motivation. he can’t ever let himself go, you know? towards you, well, it was probably something really stupid honestly. you might have to play hard to get with atsumu, even though either way he’s gonna like it, but the chase? he adores it.

atsumu’s love language; acts of service and physical affection. he’ll save your favorite go-to orders for every restaurant on his notes app, he’ll blow-dry your hair for you after a shower if you’re too lazy, he’ll learn hairstyles for you, he’ll hold your shirt down as you take off a sweater so it doesn’t ride up, he’ll make you try food he knows you’ll like, he stays up on facetime with you after recognizing the telltale signs of you being upset, he’ll go shopping with you, giving you a thumbs up, halfway, or down for each outfit, he’ll collect notes for you if you’re off from school, and so much more. that’s how atsumu expresses his love; that, and physical affection. always touching you somehow, someway, with his hand in yours, or on the back of your neck, or on the small of your back, or on your waist, slipping slightly beneath your shirt, or around your shoulder. and he’s always kissing you too, either on your cheek, or on your lips, or on your knuckles, or on your wrist, or your temple. and he’s always hugging you, and i mean always, you’ll have your head on his chest, or his chin tucked on your shoulder. atsumu doesn’t say i love you, he shows it.

atsumu’s preferred dates; campfires at the beach, stargazing on a rooftop, waterparks, carnival visits (tries to win you everything but can’t do shit), bowling, drive throughs

kissing atsumu; really playful but always leaves you hot and bothered. he kisses like he’s trying to prove a point, which you can’t decide on, but it always leaves you a little breathless, a little dizzy, and even more in love with him

what being with atsumu feels like; leaving a movie theatre and slightly dissociating from reality

KITA SHINSUKE

kita’s general personality; omg i love!!! him!!! kita, as shown in the anime and manga, is a very methodical person. he does things the way he always does them, routinely, and he finds comfort in that. and he doesn’t do things for the end result, he finds satisfaction in the productivity he feels, in seeing his efforts play out, in it all adding up and building up to the end product. it’s not what’s produced that matters to him, it’s more what he did and went through to be able to produce such a thing or result. which is why i think kita really is confident in his skills, and that’s obvious and seen when he’s on court. it’s because he knows all he’s done and all the effort he’s put in to be where he is now, and he knows they’re not going to fail him, he’s sure of it. his efforts are his safety net. that relates to kita being reliable, and being everyone else’s safety net. he’s very similar to daichi in that he’s the glue that sticks the team together, the final puzzle piece that completes a set. he’s also exceptionally good at being a captain, not because he leads very well, which yes, of course he does, but he knows his teammates. he knows what they need to hear, and is unafraid of telling them so, knows how to handle them properly, individually, and as a group. he’s also insanely observant in that not only is he good at reading people and situations, but also at being aware of the position he stands in. he knows he’s not what could be considered a ‘genius’ at volleyball, but not only is he aware of that, he accepts it, and accepts it with grace too. he understands that not everyone is special, but that also everyone is special in their own way, and are built based off of what efforts they put. which ties into the fact that kita is really mature, making him a reliable presence.

motivation; like i said, kita finds comfort in routine. he never truly has an end goal, just that whatever is achieved from what work he puts in he’ll believe is worth that. kita’s motivation is his everyday routines. it’s waking up, making his bed, making breakfast, cleaning around the house, or going to practice, putting in the work, staying after to clean. it’s the little moments that make up his entire day, that add it all up, that really matter, that really are his drive. for you, it would be a really simple “i want to be with them.” i don’t think kita would sugarcoat his feelings, or try to deny them with himself, even if yes, he will absolutely get flustered. his motivation towards you is literally just his desire and want to be with you.

kita’s love language; everything, but subtly. you can see that kita loves you with the way his attention is entirely on you when you speak. you can see he loves you with how he moves your hair out of your face for you. you can see he loves you in the way he says good morning to you, a soft smile on his face, a gentle kiss pressed to your forehead. you can see he loves you in the way he twirls you in his arms when you slow dance with him in the kitchen. you can see he loves you in the way his eyes light up at the simple mention of you, or the fact that everyone is aware of his love for you, in that it’s not kita, but kita and you. kita loves you wholly, and he will say it if you need to hear it, if he wants to say it, but it’s blatantly obvious, spottable from a mile away, clear and bright as day.

kita’s preferred dates; pottery making, art classes, drives around town, grocery shopping together, fancy dinners

kissing kita; everything kita does is methodical except kissing. kissing is where he lets loose, allows himself to be a little more carefree, a little more daring. he always kisses you like he’s afraid of losing you, like you’ll disappear in mere seconds

what being with kita feels like; being on vacation and waking up really early at a hotel

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

iwaizumi’s general personality; iwa iwa iwa!!!!!! i know we all like to paint iwa in this mature light, like he’s the dad of the team, but the reality of it is iwaizumi’s just as much immature at times, it’s only that he’s the most responsible and least immature out of all of them. and he is! responsible that is. he really is, and he’s reliant too, but that doesn’t mean we should reduce his personality to ‘brat tamer of oikawa’ because, come on, there’s more to him than just that. iwaizumi loves, and he loves too much, loves too hard, he cares too much, cares too hard. his way of showing it is through violence, sure, and maybe he’ll be super aggressive when he finds out you’re not taking care of yourself, but will he go to the ends of the earth to make you feel better? yes, he absolutely will, no doubt, no hesitation in it at all. it might be a little bit of a flaw too, but when iwaizumi loves, he literally hands you his entire heart in your hands with the full expectation that you’ll take care of it. he strikes me as the type of person that always expects the best of people. he’s not naive, but he does always see the best in people rather than just immediately seeing the worst. i also don’t think he’s violence-prone, either. like yes, he will beat up his friends no questions asked, but he wouldn’t start a physical fight, nor would he provoke anyone to initiate one. the only exception is to protect or to defend his friends or loved ones. i feel like that’s a red line you shouldn’t cross with iwa, because he will abandon any inhibitions when it comes to them. friends and loved ones first, then anything else. so yes, like i said earlier, iwaizumi is responsible, he’s reliable, he’s strong and sturdy (i mean,,, both physically and conceptually ig), and he’s someone that you do not want to ever lose once he enters your life. not because he’ll hurt you or anything like that, but because the loss of him in your life is significant and it’s impactful. that’s not to say iwaizumi’s not an absolute child at times, considering he literally, canonically has a godzilla phone case

motivation; honestly? i think iwaizumi does things,,, just to do them. like he gets satisfaction of course, from achieving certain things, like being one of the top aces, or from getting into a really good university, because of his good grades, from having a clear career path, from having the body that he does, from being where he is today in general, but he never had a direct motivation towards the actions that got these certain results. like sure he got into volleyball because it was a fun sport, his best friend was in it too, he got really good, he stayed, and sure he has really high grades, because he needs to, but why? he just does. he does things because he feels the need to achieve, you know? that’s his drive, essentially. the need to feel productive and satisfied with his achievements. towards you, however, it’s more serene. he wants to get to know you. that’s it. he’s genuinely just interested in you, in what you have to say, in your hobbies and interests, and your favorite movie, and your favorite song or artist, and your favorite color, what your aspirations are. iwaizumi just wants to know you.

iwaizumi’s love language; domesticity and acts of service. iwaizumi will fall in love with you if you feel like home, if you give him that deep sense of comfort settling in his chest. yes he wants the rush of it all, of being in love, the excitement of loving someone, but he also wants the calmness that accompanies it, the sureness that tags along. he likes certainty, stability, you know? and his actions will always speak louder than words. every date he greets you with flowers, meets you in front of the school gates if he hasn’t walked you and greets you with a gentle kiss on the lips and a “good morning.” will he explicitly say “i miss you”? no, but he will appear at your window at three in the morning with a backpack filled with your favorite snacks and an extra hoodie for you to borrow. he loves you, he loves you widely and large, but you have to really know iwaizumi to recognize the pattern

iwaizumi’s preferred dates; go-karting, late night drives, concerts, the beach (but at night, including swimming), picnics at sunrise

kissing iwaizumi; i can fully see him being a little shy, especially at the beginning! his kisses start off really gentle, as if he’s afraid to break you, but overtime, they develop into possessive, and a little rough, kisses. still absolutely breathtaking though

what being with iwaizumi feels like; being in an empty parking lot, with music seeping through your car’s speakers

end note; this took me like three separate days omg. i really, really hope i didn’t miss anyone haikyuu requests for this past event. it’s closed now my loves, but maybe it’ll make a comeback soon! hold onto your request till then :)

excuse any mistakes made in this if there are! and thank you for reading! i hope you all enjoyed <3

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years ago

Text

the one i was meant to find

request: from nonnie! “soulmate au with George??? maybe tattoos or something with the red thread of fate?”

pairing: george x fem!reader

word count: 4.8k

warning(s): angst, mentions of impending war, torture, sadness, anxiety

desc: your seventh year takes a wild turn when umbridge announces the arranged establishing of relationships to keep things in order. keep things in order? sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? people shouldn’t be paired off, you should find one another through fate! so when umbitchbridge ultimately decides to pair students off by blood status, it seems as though fate (or the ministry) is pulling you and your boyfriend miles and miles apart.

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @dreamer821 @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @angelinathebook @highly-acidic @purplefragile @90shermione @zreads @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hollands-weasley @andromedaa-tonks @bbstrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle @mytreec @imseeinggred @idont-knowrn @flyingserpxnt @auroraboringalis57 @godricsswords @jejegu @annasofiaearlobe @starlightweasley @alwaysasadaesthetic @thisismysketchbook @izzytheninja @imboredandneedalife @hemmoporro @valwritesx @heavenlymidnight | message me to be added!

Umbridge’s slimy voice rang violently throughout the Great Hall. Suddenly everything sounded very muffled in your ears, and you swallowed thickly in the hopes of unpopping them. Your breathing became heavy, just as it had that winter day at the Weasley home.

You’d been sitting outside the Burrow in the snow near the garden shed with the lot of them, before Fred, Ginny, Ron, Harry, and Hermione had all excused themselves, leaving you and George alone. You’d sworn that you’d seen Fred wink at you before vanishing inside the bustling home. You’d bit down on your lip, knowing exactly what he’d been trying to do. Damnit, Fred.

You’d stolen a glance at George, who’d looked as calm as could be. That hadn’t helped your nerves at all. Neither had the slight mistletoe that had materialized above you both, the unmistakable sound of Frederick Weasley cackling emanating from the second floor of the house.

“You know,” George began, his voice steady as a rock as he inched closer toward you. He lifted his eyes to glance above you both. “Legend has it that if you don’t song whoever you’re with whenever mistletoe appears, you’re both cursed for life.”

You’d actually snorted and immediately caved in on yourself. How embarrassing was that? Your cheeks flooded red, both from the embarrassment and from the way his laughter had warmed your entire body. You’d hadn’t even known what to say. “You’re full of it, Weasley,”

He’d placed a hand dramatically across his chest. The tips of his ears and nose were pink from the cold, and you’d sworn you were going to spontaneously combust at the sheer sight of it. “Swear to Merlin, Y/N, I read about it.”

“You? Read about it? Sure. In what -- Ten Ways To Charm Your Crush?” you’d internally scolded yourself for saying something so bloody stupid, but George had clearly thought it was cute because his grin deepened alongside the dramatic drumbeat of your heart. You’d decided to dive in head first. “I reckon you just want to kiss me.”

His features had twisted into a childish smirk and the wind ruffled his bit of bright red hair sticking out from his hat. A few snowflakes had fallen onto his eyelashes and melted when he’d blinked. “Absolutely, I do.”

He’d caught your lips with his in a moment of clarity. It was new and invigorating and familiar all at once. You may had been informed of your magical abilities at the age of eleven, much to the surprise of your Muggle parents, but in all the years you’d been attending Hogwarts, you’d never felt magic quite like this. The feeling of his eyelashes brushing against your cheekbones and his tongue gliding gently over your bottom lip had sent you gasping for air --

A hand on the small of your back pulled you from your memory. You turned to your side and looked at George for some reassurance, except all he was able to give you were worried eyes and a clenched jaw. You noticed the way his eyes glistened, but not the way they had underneath the snow and the stars and the mistletoe. They were glistening with tears.

“You can’t pair people off like this!” Yells were ringing throughout the Great Hall, along with complaints and quite a few expletives. You squeezed George’s hand. All you wanted him to do was tell you everything would be okay. “George, she can’t --”

Umbridge kept on talking, annoyingly enough, and you were surprised at how loudly her words echoed in your ears. “The Ministry has concluded, boys and girls, that students will be paired off by blood status. Pure-bloods are to marry pure-bloods, half-bloods with half-bloods, Muggle-borns with Muggle-borns. No intermingling will be tolerated. There will be daily checks to make sure you are abiding by the rules. Be warned, children, there will be disciplinary actions for those refusing to obey. No exceptions.”

You felt as though your throat was closing up. George’s face was blurry through your vision, but you could still see the worried look glazing over his eyes. How the hell did she expect to pull this off -- daily checks? This woman was absolutely mad. Somehow though, you knew she’d stop at nothing to make sure her rules were being followed. The thought terrified you to your core. To George, you said shakily, “But -- I love you.”

You’d known it since the day you met him, and even before that. You knew that he was the one you’d been waiting for. The overwhelming feeling of warmth you’d felt when he’d introduced himself with a lopsided grin all those long years ago in the middle of a Herbology lesson was like nothing you’d felt before. You had first met his gaze across the classroom, and he’d held it a little longer than he normally would have. You’d been in love ever since. And so had he.

It isn’t fair, you wanted to yell out. What authority did Umbridge have to decide who you’re meant to be with? Weren’t soulmates to be determined by fate, and not by the corrupt Wizarding government? You had a thought of hexing her right now, but her pompous laugh made you feel as though you turned to stone. By the look on McGonagall’s face from the other end of the hall, you were quite certain she felt like hexing Umbridge, too.

Who the bloody hell was she to think that she had a say, any say, over who you were allowed to marry?

George’s lip wobbled a bit as he breathed in deeply. “I love you, too.” His voice was hoarse and different and worrisome. “It’ll all be okay, darling, I promise.”

Somehow you knew that George didn’t fully believe his own words.

What were you supposed to do, coming from a Muggle family, when the whole lot of Weasleys were pure-bloods? What were you supposed to say to this vile woman to make her reconsider her choices? When your eyes met hers in a fit of fury, you squeezed George’s hand tighter, all while Umbridge threaded her brows together and stood up a little straighter.

What were you supposed to do if your soulmate wasn’t allowed to be your soulmate at all?

-- -

As you stealthily flicked your wrist, a dull light emanated from your wand, causing Professor Snape’s hair to stand up on command and turn a rather ugly shade of yellow.

You squealed; how you’d managed to pull it off was beyond you. Behind you, your boyfriend squeezed your shoulders and grabbed your hand before pulling you out of the Great Hall and around the bend. He was finding it very difficult to suppress his laughter, as evident by the red colour rising in his cheeks and the slight tears in his eyes. “You’re brilliant, you know that?”

You flipped your hair and grinned at him. “I know,” you said cheekily, earning yourself a playful jab to the ribs. You locked your arms around his neck. “I learned from the best.”

You adored the dimple that appeared on his cheek each and every time he smiled. You pushed his long hair out of his eyes. “The best, eh?”

“The best of the best,”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead and lifted you into the air, your feet dangling just above the corridor floor. He spun you a bit until you claimed you were getting dizzy. “My girl is going to out prank me one day.. how’d I get so lucky? I reckon I’m the luckiest bloke there is.”

You giggled and played absentmindedly with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” George breathed, placing you back down and bringing a hand to the back of your neck. The cheekiness in his features almost immediately twisted into that of compassion, of admiration, of --

“I love you.”

If you hadn’t been so absolutely floored (even though you’d kind of been expecting it), you would’ve noticed how very quickly those three words had brought tears to your eyes. Except, you were too excited to notice such things. Nothing at all could’ve prepared you for those three words. You reckoned your smile was stretching from ear to ear now.

The three words you’d been waiting to hear for so long were playing in your head on repeat. You couldn’t wait another second before saying them very quickly back through a very excited squeal. “Iloveyoutoo!” He laughed and kissed you softly, his mouth moving very carefully against yours. You whispered against his lips in a calmer, more serious tone, “I love you, too.”

-- -

Your seventh and final year at Hogwarts was not going according to plan. Not only had Umbridge mechanically established relationships via blood status, but she also split all of the students up by blood status as well. So there were no longer Hogwarts houses. Each student were given new, generic Hogwarts robes and new common rooms. You shifted uncomfortably in a particularly painful armchair in what used to be the Slytherin common room. How convenient, you thought, that Umbridge had deemed the dungeons an appropriate spot for the new “Muggle-born Residencies”.

And George.

He was struggling to get used to the strange entrance of the previous Ravenclaw common room, now deemed the “Pure-blood Dormitories”. Umbridge had completely banned the selling of any and all Weasley products, even confiscating their trunks and blasting their items to smithereens. Everything George and Fred worked on for so long was just...gone, and you couldn’t even be there to comfort them.

The most interaction you were able to have with George were stolen glances across the Great Hall and in lessons. McGonagall didn’t have much say over the pairing off, but she did have a say in how lessons ran. She shut down Umbridge’s ludicrous “lesson by blood status” idea almost immediately.

George had sworn to you that it would be easy to sneak around, that he could jinx Umbridge or remove her memory or outsmart her any day. But bloody hell, it was proving to be difficult. This woman had certainly done her research. The Ministry had you all on a strict lockdown control.

Fleeting moments with George came less often than both of you would have liked. One recurring time Umbridge couldn’t stop you (because she wouldn’t dare step out onto the Quidditch pitch) were matches. The schedule had already been established, McGonagall had fought. It was the only time the “four houses” were able to reconvene during the school year. You waited patiently, nervously, restlessly outside of the Gryffindor changing rooms and yanked George rather violently behind the tent before pulling him onto a bone crushing embrace.

An exasperated breath left your lips. “I don’t know how much more of this I can handle.” you told him. It had only been a month -- surely it had been longer? Like five bloody years maybe?

“Me neither, love.” The feeling of his arms wrapped around your waist was exhilarating in a way that nothing else was. When he pulled away to look at you, he kept his hands gripped tightly on your hips, as if he were afraid you were going to slip through his fingers. Which, you thought, was pretty accurate. These fleeting moments were exactly that. Fleeting.

You expected to see the usual cheekiness glistening in his eyes, but he looked -- empty. Like the life had been sucked right out of him. Like he didn’t care about anything anymore. Like he hadn’t caught sleep in days.

You tugged hesitantly on his robes. “I -- I got paired off last week.”

You didn’t say this to hurt him; you said this to be truthful. You saw his jaw clench as he prepared himself for answers. “Who is it? I know him?”

You waved George off. “He’s just some guy.”

And then, amazingly, incredibly, George actually snorted. For a brief moment, you saw traces of happiness nearly lift him off of his feet. “Some guy?”

“Well I don’t bloody know!” you laughed too. It felt like discovering a completely new emotion, since despair seemed to be the only thing you were feeling these days. “We -- haven’t really spoken much. Just the bare minimum. He’s got a girl in Ravenclaw. Half-blood. So he’s dreading this just as much as us.”

George breathed a sigh of relief. “Same with mine.”

So he’d gotten paired off too. You felt a huge bout of nervousness tense your muscles, and you nodded. The question you were wanting to ask must’ve appeared blatantly in your eyes, because George took your hands in his and squeezed them. “You know that Hufflepuff? Lead singer in the frog choir?”

Your heart dropped about a thousand stories. Of course you knew her. She was stunning. And dating that Slytherin bloke, the one who was exceptionally good at Charms. It didn’t stop the nerves from bubbling up inside of you though. You bit your lip and stammered, “She -- she’s beautiful.”

George brought your hands to his lips and kissed them gently. He hated seeing you like this, you could tell, because there was a type of yearning in his eyes you’d never seen before. He shook his head and pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. “No, you’re beautiful.”

Just then, the very obnoxious foghorn-like sound emitted from the castle, signaling the end of Quidditch and that all students must return to their respective dormitories immediately. Gravity was pulling you both apart, but you both defied it, testing fate, holding onto one another just a moment longer.

George kissed you with an intensity you’d never known -- you didn’t exactly know when the next time you’d be able to be this close to him. It proved to be the most difficult thing you’d ever had to do to pull away. “Be careful, be safe -- I love you.”

“I love you too, George.”

You watched as he ran forward to meet Fred, who shot you a sympathetic gaze. You mechanically entered the group of Muggle-borns who were heading back to the dorms. Before vanishing toward the opposite end of the castle, George threw you one last inconspicuous glance and brought a hand gently to his heart.

-- -

“George, it’s not up to me, it’s not up to you,”

Grimmauld Place looked disturbingly non-Christmas like, despite Molly’s best efforts at decorating in her spare time between visits to the hospital to see Arthur. You’d managed, in a strange, winding way, to end up here. It proved to be very difficult though. Umbridge was now monitoring all floo-networks and the skies for flying, and it was becoming increasingly hard to apparate when your heart just wasn’t in it. But you’d made it -- somehow. You worshiped these few days here, unbeknownst to her.

You shifted uncomfortably underneath the blanket, unable to find a position on the couch that made you feel okay. Comfortable. Safe.

You glanced down at your scarred hand and ran your fingers along the words that were reflected on George’s as well.

I must not disobey the law.

The law. That’s what Umbridge thought this was. So when she caught George attempting to sneak down to the dungeons one night to see you, if only for a moment, she threw the both of you in separate four-hour long detentions, these six words now permanently engraved into your skin.

“I don’t care,” George breathed. “I don’t care about Umbridge, or these stupid rules, or the shop, or the fact that I’ve got this ridiculous phrase on my skin. I don’t care about any of it, I care about you.”

You bit your lip as the tears began to flow. You knew he didn’t mean that. Of course he cared. “I care about you too, but what are we supposed to do?”

“Let’s fight this!”

“We’ve tried! We’ve tried, George! Umbridge is so set in her ways, not even Dumbledore can shut this down! D’you think this is easy for me?” you cried. “D’you think it’s easy knowing that there’s a beautiful woman you’ve been paired with, or that there’s a man who I’m expected to spend my life with when all I’ve been doing for the better half of the last two and a half years is planning my life with you? It’s not bloody easy, George, it’s not, tell me how this is fair, tell me!” You weren’t sure when you’d started pounding on his chest, but your rattled cries echoed throughout the empty living room space. George pulled you into his chest, gripping the back of your neck tightly in his hands as he continually pressed kisses into your hair. Your sobs turned hoarse and raspy; you were crying fully now, desperate moans evaporating into the tense air above you.

You hated hearing him cry, so when he opened his mouth to speak and his words were jumbled and emotional, you squeezed your eyes shut tight, hoping that you’d open them to something other than this nightmare. “I don’t -- I don’t want to give up on us, love.”

“And you think I do?”

“No, no, of course not!” he cried, letting his emotions get the better of him. He sucked in a breath as you dabbed gently at your tears, even though fresh ones fell just as quickly as the old ones vanished. How could this be the plan for you two? How could this be your fate, when you were so in love with one another? He shook his head. “No, I’m not done. I’m not done fighting for this. Bloody hell, I don’t even care if I’ve got to use the cruciatus curse on her. I’ll give up the shop, I’ll do anything. I don’t care about anyone else --”

“George, please, you can’t give up the shop, I won’t let you --”

“Come hell or high water, I’m fighting for you,” in a moment of fury, he grabbed and cradled your head in his hands before pressing a forceful kiss to your lips. It didn’t stop you from crying. When you both parted, you peered up at him and noticed tears near the edges of his eyes. “I’m not giving up on us. I love you.”

You gently brought a hand to his cheek and caressed his skin. You choked out, “I love you, too.”

Sometime later on, after you’d both drifted off, you woke to the sound of slight shuffling around the room. Wrapped around you in a tight embrace, George was fast asleep, his breathing now steady and slow. You noticed Molly walk over to you both and cover you with an extra blanket, her wedding ring dazzling brightly in the moonlight flooding the room.

She must’ve noticed your puffy eyes and blotchy cheeks, because she reached out and ran a gentle hand through your hair. Tears had risen in your eyes immediately at her touch, as well as surprise. You’d expected a scolding for falling asleep together, but instead she just whispered, “Fate will win in the end.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and let the tears fall, but managed to nod at her and squeeze her hand. She gently caressed your cheek and placed a kiss to your head and to George’s before crossing the room and quietly closing the door.

George stirred a bit when you interlaced your fingers with his. You pressed your lips softly to the top of his hand before letting more tears fall and adjusting within his embrace, the one you came to know so well, and found yourself craving more than oxygen itself.

-- -

“They love you. I promise. They always have, haven’t they?” The fire reflecting in his eyes resembled how the fire in your bones felt. Wild. With reckless abandon.

“But this is different!” you squealed, pushing gently away from him so he couldn’t tickle you. “Before I was just good mates with all of you. Now I’m -- your girlfriend.”

George threaded his brows together in confusion. “Wait, you are? Since when?”

He earned himself a playful jab to the ribs for that one. Outside the Burrow, the snow was falling soundlessly. It had been three days since George had kissed you under the mistletoe, two days since you made it official, one day since he re-introduced you to his family as his girlfriend. It was the perfect Christmas.

“I’m just.. worried, is all. They’re getting to know me in a different way, you know?”

“Don’t worry, love,” he reassured you, placing a gentle kiss to your hairline. “Fred’s mad for you, always has been -- waiting ages for us to get together, hasn’t he? Ginny and Ron adore you.. I can’t wait for you to meet Bill and Charlie finally. Er -- can’t make any promises about Percy, though. No matter -- he’s a foul little git, anyway.”

You sniggered a bit and felt your breath catch in your throat when George began to trace small circles on your knee. You swallowed. “And your mum and dad?”

His smile only deepened. “Well they love you, don’t they? Mum’s always called you part of the family already. And my dad, well -- you know about my dad.”

You’d never felt the Muggle part of you was that exciting, but somehow Arthur Weasley’s enthusiasm for it made you feel like it was such a precious part of you, that you were all the better for it.

George continued, “Now that you’ll be spending more time here, I reckon he’ll keep you occupied in conversation for hours. Making you tell him everything about Muggles. Apologies in advance.” George laughed softly for a moment and waved his wand to bring you both cups of tea to settle in for the evening. “Besides, he’ll go absolutely mad when he meets your parents. He’s always hoped one of us would have Muggle in-laws.”

You raised an eyebrow in surprise and teased him. “In-laws? Already have us married, do you?”

When you giggled playfully, George didn’t, but instead squeezed your hand a few times and let his sincerity speak for itself through his facial features. His soft eyes, yearning and hungry and wildly in love. His mouth in a lazy grin. His chest rising and falling slowly, as if being able to look at you had finally regulated his breathing. Like you were the oxygen that was finally refilling his lungs.

You stammered, breathless. “Y-you do think about that, don’t you?”

He shrugged, as if to play off the whole thing. “Haven’t scared you off, have I?”

You brought a hand to the back of his neck and laced your fingers through his bright red hair. You smiled. “Of course not.”

“Good,” he replied cheerily, as if the idea of you two getting married was obvious. “Because I’ve known it for years, you and I. Fred reckons I may have willed this into existence,” He chuckled to himself more so than to you. You didn’t think your heart could pound any faster than it had the other day when he’d kissed you for the first time. You were wildly wrong. He pressed his lips to the back of your hand. “You were the one I was meant to find.”

-- -

December 1997

The cobblestone on Diagon Alley was slick with fresh rain. The lights on either side of the street flickered ominously. But there it was, as bright and brilliant as ever, colours in the dismal gray, light in the impending darkness.

“I’m not leaving! I’m giving up the shop and I’m staying here at school, alright? I’m staying with you.”

“No, George, you can’t! You can’t give that up for me. I won’t let you. You’ve worked far too hard for this.”

“I’m not leaving you here! Not with her! She’s torturing students left and right --”

“And I will be okay,” you replied with tears in your eyes. You squeezed his hands tight and his chest was heavy with sobs. “Your plans are bigger than this, and they’re bigger than me.”

It had been almost two years since he’d left on a broomstick, firework dragons swimming through the castle and the sky as he and his brother left their final mark on the Hogwarts grounds.

Almost two years since Umbridge had been replaced by Dumbledore, and the Hogwarts you knew and loved went back to some type of normal, the entire idea of blood status pairs driven into the ground with a stake.

But it had also been almost two years since Muggle-borns were forced into hiding for fear of the impending war.

Two years since you’d seen him. Heard his voice. Felt his touch.

He was crying fully now. “This -- this can’t be it for us.”

Your lip wobbled hearing those heart wrenching words. He’d always been the stronger of you two, comforting you when you cried -- this felt strangely unfamiliar. You didn’t quite fancy being the strong one, but he needed you. “It’s not. It’s not, okay? This is not the end. I promise. But you deserve this, George. You deserve the world. And one day, when this is all over, if I’m still lucky enough -- I’ll find you again. Come hell or high water. You need to follow your dream, okay?”

It wasn’t a breakup, but it sure felt like one.

He pressed his forehead to yours and an involuntary, hoarse cry escaped his lips. “But you’re my dream.”

“George, please --” you stopped yourself. You didn’t finish the words that were rising to your lips. Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be. You cupped his chin in your hands and peered up at him, your vision blurry. But you could still see his lips were set in a thin, firm line, his jaw was clenched tightly. He was going to leave.

You looked down at the red thread tied loosely around your pinky finger. You followed it with your eyes as it wrapped around street lamps, signs and other shops, before ending up exactly where you’d always known it would when it had first appeared on your finger after you’d graduated school.

93 Diagon Alley.

“My heart will always belong to you, love.”

As you hurried down the street, following your little thread, and the shop came into better view, you could feel the sheer intensity of the anticipation bubbling up inside you.

You pointed your wand ahead, illuminating the dark street and readying yourself for any dementors or Death Eaters that were lurking close by.

But before you reached the doors, someone ran into the middle of the street and stopped short. You lifted your wand higher, ready to hex, until you realized who it was.

George was standing in the middle of the cobblestone, hair in disarray, in his sweater his mum had knitted him every single year. He’d always told you how comforting it felt to wear. You couldn’t help the slight laugh that escaped you, for the first time you’d seen him in two years he so very similarly resembled that young, cheeky boy you’d teased your first Christmas at Hogwarts for the socks he’d knitted on his own to match the gift from his mother.

He said your name in a whisper, but in your ears it sounded like a booming shout -- like all the world could hear it, if they were listening.

And you noticed your little thread, stretching along the street, ending in a tiny knot on his own hand.

You wanted to tell him that you were here to find him, and that you’d been able to escape the hiding you were under, due to being a Muggle-born. You wanted to tell him that you hadn’t once stopped thinking about him since you’d last seen him all those years ago and that when you’d finally seen that thread, you were convinced it led here -- you’d just never been able to act on it. You wanted to tell him that you prayed for him every single night.

But all that escaped your mouth was another nervous laugh before you were running and slipping along the street before winding up in a bone crushing embrace you were bound to feel the effects of tomorrow.

He wanted to tell you that he’d never met anyone as selfless as you, how equally excited and heartbroken he was when you’d told him to leave and charge forward. He wanted to tell you that he’d been spending every single day waiting for news, any news at all that Muggle-borns were no longer in hiding. He wanted to tell you that he’d had enough, and he was coming to find you just as he stumbled before you on this little street. He wanted to tell you that he’d never once stopped loving you.

But instead all he could do was kiss you fiercely and brush the tears away that were escaping your eyes, because that kiss was telling you both everything you needed to know -- all of those unspoken words, all of those bottled up feelings, all of the unwavering love you’d carried in your hearts for one another throughout all of the moments that kept you apart.

And then he was kneeling before you, raindrops dripping down from his hair and onto his face and neck, and he was saying the things you’d always dreamt of him saying, and he was opening a box with a ring inside that took your breath away, just as his first kiss had.

A familiar ring.

Molly’s ring.

Your breath hitched at the sight of it, and her words from that Christmas echoed in your mind.

Fate will win in the end.

When George placed it on your finger, you both noticed through blurry vision that the thread that had been attached to you both had disappeared into thin air.

You’d found one another again, despite it all, despite the tyrants and the war and the rules that were holding both of you hostage.

Because this was the fate you were both destined for. This was the moment. Husband and wife, together or apart.

Fate had won in the end.

Just like Molly had told you.

The fire crackled pleasantly alongside the faint sound of Christmas music. You reached out and traced a finger over his jawline. His words made you feel simultaneously cozy and incredibly nervous. “The one you were meant to find, huh?”

George laughed, probably because of how corny that had sounded. But he didn’t care -- he knew it was true. He’d known it since the day he met you, that fate had brought you together. He breathed in deeply and squeezed your knee. “Yeah, darling, I’ve already planned my whole life with you.”

reblogs, feedback, comments, and shares are all appreciated! thanks for reading :)

#george weasley #fred weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins imagines #weasley twins fanfic #weasley twins fanfiction #george weasley x reader #george weasley reader insert #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley one shot #soulmate au #molly weasley #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley x you

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misssophiachase · 4 years ago

Photo

For @klarolinefallbingo “Broomstick”

What a month it has been! Thank you @eliliyah for organising this (and all your stunning graphics) and all of your hard work! I don’t think I have any more left in me but thank you everyone for being so supportive and kind.

I also got 3 BINGOS (almost 4 if I do one more) which isn’t too bad I thought lol. I’ll do a master past soon : )

Thank you also to @helpfulfairy for her awesome quidditch knowledge, whatever would I do without you, luv?

Everything She Does is Magic

Witch and wizard Caroline and Klaus can’t stand each other according to school gossip. Although, news of her addition to the quidditch team is going to make things much more interesting and complicated.

Wednesday

“I think I misheard you,” he offered, a slight smile playing on his crimson lips from across the wooden, dining table. “You’re starting in this weekend’s quidditch match?”

“Did I stutter,” Caroline shot back, rolling her blue eyes in his direction.

As someone who made over-achieving an art form, Caroline was determined to master everything the school had to offer, including quidditch. She figured that all the pain and bruises from an extra circular activity would be worth it to secure good, future job prospects.

She was always thinking ahead.

Obviously, Klaus Mikaelson didn’t share her view. Not that she was surprised given he’d made it his main aim in life to terrorise her since she started attending Hogwarts School of Magic two years earlier.

Just because he came from a rich and powerful family didn’t give him the right to make her life difficult.

“I just wouldn’t want you to falter and fall off your broomstick, Forbes, that’s all,” he chuckled, a stray dimple appearing without notice.

Why did he have to look so good insulting her?

Ass.

“Funny, I thought that would be you, Mikaelson, given last week’s pathetic loss,” she muttered, trying to avoid the urge to throw a french fry in his direction. “Gryffindor is going to wipe the floor with Slytherin this weekend and clearly you’re worried.”

“Me? Worried? Highly, bloody unlikely.”

“We’ll see about that,” she argued. “I’ve got moves you haven’t seen before.”

Caroline wasn’t sure she was talking about quidditch anymore and given the way his dark, blue eyes clouded over briefly she wasn’t sure he was thinking that either.

“Bring it on, love.” His husky tone only confirming her suspicion. He was gone before she could reply, no doubt on purpose.

Maybe it was a ploy to distract her before the match but Caroline was struggling to decipher whether they were enemies or something else completely.

“He wants to nail you and I’m not talking in a competitive sporting type way.”

“Why thank you, Lorenzo,” she drawled, swatting her best friend away from her personal space. “I’m just glad he didn’t hear you.”

“Why would you care if you didn’t think it was true?”

“I’m not going to dignify that with a response.”

“Which translates to you wanting to jump his bones,” he teased. “If he swung my way I’d have joined the quidditch team myself.”

“I did not join the team for him,” she huffed, gathering her books and attempting to make her getaway.

“Whatever you say, darling.” His unconvincing tone wasn’t lost on Caroline. Either way she was going to wipe the floor with him and enjoy doing it.

Saturday

“Niklaus? Hello?” The repetitive sound of his inquisitive, and annoying, younger brother’s questions were wearing on his last nerve.

He was trying to get into the zone before the quidditch match. Seated in the Slytherin locker room, it wasn’t something he struggled with usually but today was very different and he knew why.

Caroline Forbes.

He teased her, sure, and pretended he hated her but that wasn’t the case. Not by a long shot. He was head-over-heels and pathetically in love with the blonde witch who’d stolen his heart when she turned him into a toad during charms class.

Not the love at first sight scenario most would imagine.

Sure, he should have been furious, and he’d acted that way, but it only made him want her more.

Then she decided to join the Gryffindor quidditch team.

Klaus wasn’t averse to anyone playing the game but he’d been surprised when she’d admitted it during study hall. He’d been arrogant, because that was his defence mechanism, but only really to mask his real feelings.

It didn’t help that she was a chaser just like him.

“Niklaus!”

“I heard you the first time,” he barked, looking at Kol in frustration.

“Wow, I was only letting you know the game was about to start,” he joked. “If I’d known you were going to be so uptight, I’d have stayed away.”

“I’m not uptight,” he uttered through pursed lips.

“Oh, that’s right,” he offered. “You’re scared your girlfriend is going to whip your ass.”

“I am not.” Klaus didn’t mean for it to come across so abrupt and childish but decided to blame it on his brother’s bad sense of humour. “Enough talking, I’m ready.”

Klaus wasn’t sure if he was but decided that bluffing was his best way of deterring his annoying brother.

45 minutes later

Slytherin had the lead, although Gryffindor was attempting to even the score. Caroline felt the wind whip through her hair as she competed, her attention solely focused, well except for the annoyingly handsome idiot on the opposing team.

If she knew playing was going to feel this good she would have taken it up two years ago. She’d always been competitive but this was next level.

Her persistent opponent was certainly not going to let her forget it though. He was so close she could smell his spicy scent So much so, that after a particularly rough tackle, Caroline felt herself spinning out of control.

The blue sky above and green grass below were playing on uncontrollable repeat, Caroline not quite sure what was happening until she felt someone catch her before she hit the ground.

In fact, she dropped onto something which helped cushion her fall and she was madly trying to get her bearings. Feeling her surroundings, Caroline could make out a set of toned arms, not to mention the hard abdomen she was straddling.

The sound of a muffled groan was enough to wake her from her daze. Caroline’s eyes opened, not expecting Klaus Mikaelson, of all wizards, to be lying beneath her.

“If you wanted me, all you needed to do was ask, love.”

“You wish,” she growled, attempting to stand but failing miserably given their hard fall. “Hang on, why are you here?”

“Because I’m stupid obviously,” he groaned, his pain evident. Then she remembered the strong grip that caught her fall.

“Did you, of all people, really break my fall?” She waited for his response, not realising she was holding her breath.

“If I wasn’t in so much pain, I’d argue you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, sweetheart.”

Clearly that was a yes.

Caroline wanted to argue because that was her immediate instinct when it came to him but he looked so vulnerable. It also didn’t help that she was straddling him in a not so innocent way.

But the way he was staring up at her, dark blue eyes trained on hers, was causing her to falter.

She hated him.

Or so she thought.

“Caroline?Klaus?” She was broken from her trance by their teacher, clearly concerned about their wellbeing splayed out on the field. “Are you both okay?”

Their gaze hadn’t deviated at all, both clearly okay with their current and extremely close predicament. It took another question for them to finally separate.

“Can I help you?”

Caroline immediately felt lost when they did eventually separate. Given the look on his face, she knew Klaus felt the same way.

Slytherin won that match but Caroline promised to avenge the result the following week, secretly hoping she’d find herself wrapped around her opponent again.

Not because she liked him at all but so she could tell him what an ass he was.

Or that’s what she told herself.

#klaroline fall bingo #klaroline drabbles #klaroline fanfiction #klaroline #dramione #fusion

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eddieeatsass · 4 years ago

Text

On the Edge of an Avalanche

Summary: Graduation was upon them and Eddie Kaspbrak was eager to leave Derry behind. His one last hurrah would be the senior ski trip, earning him an escape from his mother and the looming stress of college admissions. It was supposed to be a relaxing vacation, until he got slated to look after resident pain-in-everyone’s-ass, Richie Tozier. Pairing: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak Rating: E Chapter: 3/5 Read Chapter 2 Here / Read on AO3

The next morning felt like a slow-motion scene unravelling before him. Eddie had spent most of the night replaying the events that him and Richie had engaged in, dissecting it for all he could and trying to figure out what it all meant. He hadn’t fallen asleep until the birds were waking up, singing a morning song that rang more like a lullaby to Eddie’s tired ears.

The first time he woke he felt a warmth pressing up against his back, arms curling around his torso, and smelled sickly-sweet cinnamon that was unfamiliar but undeniably soothing. He fell back asleep not long after.

The second time Eddie woke he felt rustling beside him, a gentle press to his cheek, and just barely heard something whispered. He never opened his eyes, sleep already pulling him back in.

The final time he woke that morning was very different from the others; a booming voice announcing an arrival had shaken him out of slumber and almost out of bed.

“JESUS CHRIST WHAT THE SHIT-” Eddie clutched his blankets in a death grip, holding them up higher as if they could shield him from the onslaught.

“Wakey wakey Eds and bakey!”

Eddie groaned internally, already upset at his body for having such a visceral reaction to the sound of Richie’s voice even while it was so tired, and Richie was so loud. Did he have any self respect?

Eddie peered out from behind his sheets, eyes meeting a ruffled bed head and an early morning smile.

Okay, maybe Eddie didn’t need self respect when Richie looked that good.

“I brought breakfast.” Richie stated, holding the plates up as a peace offering.

Eddie didn’t even have to think before he scooted over, making room for Richie and patting the open spot.

Richie hobbled over, handing one of the over-stacked plates to Eddie and plopping himself down with a small “oof”.

Choosing to avoid the elephant in the room for a while longer, Eddie speared what he assumed to be an egg with his fork. He couldn’t be certain, as Richie had coated everything on both plates with a healthy serving of hollandaise sauce.

“How’s the ankle?” Eddie asked tentatively.

“’s fine.” Richie said through a mouthful of food. His cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunk, but rather than being off-putting, it was annoyingly charming.

“You really shouldn’t be walking on it.” Eddie mentioned.

“I’ve had worse.” Richie shrugged, as if that was supposed to be comforting to Eddie.

“Where did you get the food?” Eddie asked, changing the subject once again to avoid the hovering topic. It was well past breakfast time, and Eddie knew the buffets were never open past 9am.

“I snuck into the kitchen.” Richie shrugged, as if that were a totally normal thing to do.

“What- Richie! You could have gotten in trouble!”

“But I didn’t.” Richie smirked triumphantly.

“Anyone could have caught you! And you could have been sent home, or worse, the staff could have called the police! I mean it is technically stealing, and trespassing, and could probably be charged as breaking and entering, and-”

Eddie was cut off by a fork full of food being shoveled into his open mouth. A fork that wasn’t his fork. A fork that had been in someone else’s mouth, that should have grossed him out, that should have sounded off the alarm in his head. But instead, the fork sat in his mouth as nothing more than a slight inconvenience; not a trigger for his neuroses or a reason to grab his mouthwash, just a fork. What kind of spell did this boy have over him!?

“Now chew.” Richie ordered, pulling his fork out and leaving the food to sit inside Eddie’s mouth. He did as he was told, chewing a few times and swallowing the food that, in any other case, would have disgusted him.

“There. Now, do you hear any sirens outside?”

“No, but-”

“Is your body getting ready to violently regurgitate everything?”

“No-”

“Then just enjoy the food, spaghetti man.”

Richie said it like it was so easy… And maybe it was. Eddie could be a bit rebellious, couldn’t he? Richie had gone out of his way to get them breakfast, no matter how irresponsible it had been, and Eddie had done nothing but complain. He hadn’t even thanked Richie. Besides, how was it any different from when Eddie snuck into the school’s kitchen to get Stan his special lunch?

The difference, Eddie realized with his heart skipping a beat, was that Eddie didn’t care much about his own wellbeing. The wellbeing of Richie, however, was a completely new ballgame, and Eddie suddenly found himself at bat.

“Sorry, it’s hard for me to keep my anxiety in check sometimes.” Eddie admitted, poking around his plate and eating a few more bites. Admittedly, the food was really good.

“Hey, no need to apologize, I get it.” Richie assured, shooting Eddie a smile that melted him to the core. “Just know that I’d never put you in any real danger.” Richie added with an honesty that watered something warm and vibrant in Eddie’s chest.

And somehow, Eddie knew that was true. Richie might be reckless at times, but he wasn’t stupid, and he protected those he cared about.

Eddie wondered if he was in that category now.

Before Eddie could dwell on it any longer, there was a knock at their door followed by Mr. Daniels’ voice giving them a half hour before they head out. It seemed that while Eddie had been busy sleeping in, the bus had been repaired and returned to their motel.

As they filed into the vehicle, Eddie noticed that the teachers had switched buses for the day. Mr. Daniels made no mention of the seating arrangements (to which there had been more changes than just Richie and Stanley). This, of course, resulted in absolute mayhem as everyone that had been assigned to different seats now reverted to their original spots. As a result, the bus soon returned back to its chaos.

Eddie glanced over at Richie, his fingers twitching as he held himself back from reaching out and clutching Richie’s arm to keep him close. Of course, Eddie wouldn’t mind sitting with Stan again, but he’d grown attached to Richie, and even though he felt like they were treading unfamiliar waters now thanks to last night’s unspoken tryst, he still wanted to be close to him.

The bus hadn’t started moving yet, so kids were still flying from row to row, taking advantage of their newfound freedom thanks to Mr. Daniels more lax approach at chaperoning. Eddie bit at his fingernail as he watched Richie out of the corner of his eye, too afraid to speak but just as afraid to take his gaze off him.

Richie, on the other hand, seemed completely unaware as he happily tapped away at something on his phone. His shoulders were hunched forward in poor posture and he was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, now wrinkled from sleeping in them, but he was still the picture of beauty as far as Eddie was concerned.

Eddie got caught staring as Richie’s head turned without warning, but it was only met with a smile and an endeared laugh.

“Is it cool if I switch with Stanley for a bit? Bill’s been harping on me for not texting him back all night, that clingy son of a bitch.” Richie held up his phone as evidence, even though the screen was black and gave Eddie no hint as to the topic of their conversation.

He hoped in equal parts that it was and wasn’t about him.

“Yeah, whatever.” Eddie tried to feign indifference but overshot and ended up sounding rude. He winced at his own tone of voice and swallowed back the urge to apologize immediately.

“Uhh, okay.” Richie seemed confused, but his face stayed open and inviting despite the quirk in his brow. Liquid lapis eyes training on Eddie for a beat longer than necessary before he was hopping up and heading down the isle.

As soon as Richie was gone, Eddie let his head fall against the frostbitten window with a thunk, his eyes closing instinctively as he retreated inside his brain.

He was exhausted, both physically from lack of sleep, and emotionally from all these new unfamiliar emotions. It’s not that Eddie had never had crushes before; there was Steven from summer camp, Harry who worked at the bookstore, and Isaac who’d been their mechanic for six years, and had taken Eddie under his wing after his father died.

However, of all the infatuations Eddie had had, Richie was the first one that actually made sense. Steven had been too far away, and straight. Harry had been too busy, and straight. Isaac had been too old, and straight. But Richie… well, he lived in the same city, wasn’t bogged down by work, and was the same age as Eddie… and was… possibly not straight?

Eddie felt the seat dip beside him, but refused to open his eyes. Call it a protest of the outside world for being too confusing, he’d open his eyes again when someone had the answers for him.

“Hey.”

Okay, well maybe Stan would have the answers.

Eddie grumbled his greeting, pulling his body away from the window only to let it slump the other way, right into Stanley’s shoulder. He wavered a bit at the sudden impact but righted himself quickly, supporting Eddie’s weight easily.

“So, are you the reason Richie’s walking with a limp today?”

“WHAT?” Eddie’s head shot up, his brain working in overdrive to try and wipe his slate clean, erase any sign of culpability. Did Stan know what they’d done? Did everyone know what they’d done? Oh my god, Richie told someone and now everyone was going to know that they-

“I mean, I just assumed Richie crossed the line at some point and you had to deliver some swift Kaspbrak karate moves to shut him up.” Stan held his hand up in fists and, with delayed relief, Eddie realized Stan was making a joke.

Eddie let his head fall back into the cushiness of Stan’s shoulder, his body somehow even more drained than it had been thirty seconds ago. Eddie wasn’t fully certain how he planned on getting through today.

“He was actually really respectful.” Eddie responded. He didn’t realize it was so out of character until Stan fell quiet, followed by a prodding question.

“Are you okay?”

There it was, the question Eddie couldn’t even answer for himself. Was he okay? He didn’t feel okay, but nothing had actually gone wrong, right? In fact, if anything, things had gone in Eddie’s favor. So why did he feel this heavy weight in his chest, baring down on his lungs and slowly squeezing the air out of him?

When Eddie had returned from the bathroom the previous night, steeled to have the inevitable conversation that came after dry humping a guy you’ve been familiar with for no more than a day, he’d found Richie fast asleep.

Not knowing what else to do, Eddie has simply crawled into bed beside him.

But those hours laying awake had left him with too many thoughts, the most prodding being his fear that he’d been used as a prop for Richie’s experimentation. Did he even like guys? He’d never mentioned it, never seemed to show any interest past a couple of jokes. But that was all they were, right? Maybe the jokes had been the first signs Eddie should have noticed, subtle hints Richie was dropping to insinuate that Eddie would be the perfect contender for a round of ‘am I gay or just horny?’. Eddie had practically opened himself up to it after coming out to him.

His pessimism may have been clouded by past experiences, but after what Eddie had been through, it was no wonder he jumped to conclusions. The only experiences Eddie had to speak for were secret rendezvous with nervous classmates that inevitably ended with Eddie being ignored the next day. It was a pattern, and Eddie was the invariable. He was the small, quiet twink that every questioning athlete and nerd alike seemed to peg as an easy target for their sexual experimentation.

It wasn’t all bad; it was how Eddie got his first kiss, his first hand job, and so on and so forth. It had, however, left him feeling skeptical of anyone who showed even the barest of interest in him, writing it off as nothing more than curiosity.

The thought of that being the case with Richie left Eddie’s stomach souring. He’d never gotten attached like this before. Quite honestly, he felt like he was standing on the edge of an avalanche, just waiting for Richie to speak and cause it all to collapse above them.

“What do you think about people experimenting with… New things.” Eddie braved forward.

“Uh, I mean that’s a pretty vague question.” Stan pointed out.

“Okay… say you’ve only ever eaten hamburgers your whole life, right? Through and through you’re a hamburger guy. Until one day you see a hotdog and think, well, maybe I’ll try that today. What if you try it and you don’t like it? Are you just going to throw it away? How is that fair, to just use the hotdog and then discard it like it’s nothing?”

Eddie hadn’t realized that his voice had become fast-paced and high-pitched until he noticed the look on Stan’s face. Clear confusion was evident in the way he gazed at Eddie with his brows knit in the middle and his mouth slightly agape. Eddie immediately wanted to disappear.

“Nevermind, it’s stupid.”

“No! No, sorry, I just…” Stan took a breath and sat up straighter, angling his body towards Eddie. “Okay well, experimenting with new… foods doesn’t always end up in distaste, right? Lots of people end up discovering some of their favorite… foods through exploration.”

Hearing the metaphor come out of Stan’s mouth made Eddie realize how nonsensical it was. God, he was about two seconds sway from digging himself a hole and hibernating until springtime.

“But if you’re worried about someone… Not enjoying the hot dog, just talk to them about it. Maybe they didn’t realize how their actions might hurt the… hot dog…”

Eddie and Stan stared at one another for a long pause until Stan cracked a smile, and it radiated so much warmth and comfort that Eddie couldn’t help but smile back. Soon they were falling into giggles, easing themselves into full-blown laughter at the absurdity of the conversation.

Stan had to have figured it out by now, but Eddie was thankful that he didn’t push him past what he was ready to talk about. Stan was a quality friend, and Eddie had never appreciated his presence in his life more than he did right now.

“Thanks Stan.” Eddie said honestly, bumping shoulders with him as the last of his chitters died out.

“Anytime.”

“You might want to consider the possibility that this isn’t their first time eating a hot dog though.”

“What?” Eddie blurted.

“I just mean, you’re assuming they’ve never had a hot dog before, right? Maybe they tend to lean more towards hamburgers but that doesn’t mean they’ve never been intrigued by hot dogs before. Maybe they just needed to find the right hot dog…”

Eddie’s face heated up as Stan continued to talk.

“All I’m saying is if it was truly just some reckless experimentation, they’d probably wait until college like the rest of us.”

Eddie’s head hurt, the metaphor finally losing its last small thread of sense.

“Right… wait until college to… eat a hot dog…” Eddie repeated slowly.

Stan opened his mouth to reply, but the voice that rang out wasn’t his.

“Who’s got hot dogs?”

Eddie just about jumped out of his skin, his eyes darting up to connect with Richie’s. Eddie felt like he had just been caught talking about him, which he sort of had, but Richie was none the wiser and, hopefully, neither was Stan. The only one floundering was Eddie, but boy was he in the deep end.

“NOTHING. NO ONE.” Eddie exclaimed much too loudly for the situation.

Both Stan and Richie stared back at Eddie, equally puzzled expressions on both their faces. He felt like there was a single ping pong ball bouncing around in his head at light speed, desperately trying to find an appropriate response to save himself. Thankfully, Stan was always one step ahead of him.

“We were just talking about how Eddie’s mom makes the best hot dogs.”

Eddie’s nose instinctively scrunched up at the mention of his mom during a metaphor about his sex life, but he quickly schooled his features and nodded along.

“Mmm, I’m gonna have to fight you on that until I’ve tasted them for myself. Otherwise, the best hotdogs in Derry are undoubtedly the ones from Kelso’s Diner.”

Eddie short circuited at the insinuation that Richie would indeed one day be trying Eddie’s mom’s cooking. Meaning he foresaw them continuing to be friends past this trip. Meaning, and this made Eddie’s head spin, Richie didn’t seem to have the intention of dropping Eddie the minute he got what he wanted.

What exactly did he want?

“So, Stan the man, if you don’t mind, I’m going to kick you back into the strong arms of Bill Denbrough and reclaim my rightful seat here.” Eddie couldn’t help but notice the way Stan’s face flushed just a shade darker. Was there something there that Eddie didn’t know about?

He didn’t have time to ponder Stan’s reaction to the mention of Bill Denbrough or his strong arms. Stan shot a quick ‘talk to you later’ Eddie’s way and was retreating to his seat as Richie settled into his.

Eddie’s head was swirling as his senses reacted to Richie’s proximity. He forced himself to speak through the rush of endorphins, even though all his body wanted to do was curl into Richie’s side.

“What did Bill want to talk to you about?”

“Relationship drama.” Richie answered, shrugging it off. “There’s always something with that boy.” The way Richie spoke wasn’t annoyed or exhausted, but rather amused by his friend and his ongoing antics.

“I’m glad you were able to help him.” Eddie responded genuinely.

“Yeah, me too.” Richie’s smile felt intimate, as if it were just for Eddie, even though they were talking about someone else entirely.

Eddie began to smile back but was overcome by a yawn, his face distorting as his jaw dropped on its own, too motivated by exhaustion to wait for the queue from his brain.

“Didn’t get much sleep last night?” Richie pondered.

“Uhm, yeah, I guess not.” Eddie answered sheepishly, hoping Richie didn’t connect his insomnia to their late-night encounter.

“Bummer, I slept better than I have in months. You’re a good cuddler.” Richie’s comment was dropped so casually that Eddie almost didn’t catch it, but his ears were awake enough to tinge a bright rose in response.

“Well, anyways, Mr. Daniels said we have about an hour until we get to the resort so…” Richie tapped his shoulder invitingly, and even though Eddie had been in the exact same position mere minutes ago with Stanley, it felt vastly different when the shoulder was attached to Richie.

“T-thanks.” Eddie stuttered, dipping his head low into the crook of Richie’s shoulder fast enough that he hopefully didn’t notice how much redder Eddie got.

He was sure his heart was beating too fast for him to possibly fall asleep, but the closeness to Richie rejuvenated him in another way. He let his eyes slip closed as he slowly relaxed into the comforting presence beside him.

“-ddie, hey, Eds.”

“Mmmm ‘s not my name.”

“Fine. Edward Kaspbrak, king of slumber and bearer of drool, it’s time to wake up.”

Eddie’s surroundings slowly came into consciousness as he was pulled back into awareness. The first thing he noticed was that he was in a very different orientation than when he’d last been cognizant. The second thing he noticed, and much more dreadful, was that his cheek was indeed covered in drool.

He brought a hand to his face and wiped away the moisture as quickly as he could, riding himself of any evidence Richie might be able to use against him.

Who, speaking of, was currently underneath him in a way he very much hadn’t been before.

At some point, Eddie had ended up with his head in Richie’s lap. Richie’s hand was in Eddie’s hair at the nape of his neck, gently playing with the strands as if it was an absent habit he did all the time. The act was so domestic it made Eddie want to burst into tears; whether they were sad or happy tears, he wasn’t sure.

He sat up slowly, careful not to have the blood rush to his head too quickly. The last thing he needed was to pass out in front of Richie. Who knows what kind of intimate position he’d wake up in the next time.

“We’re here, everybody’s already outside.” Richie offered as explanation for Eddie’s disrupted sleep.

“What? Why did you wait to wake me?” Eddie asked with only a tinge of annoyance. Luckily, Richie seemed to be charmed by it.

“You’re cute when you sleep, let a man indulge.”

Before Eddie could form a response, Richie was already standing up. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and made his way towards the front of the bus, leaving Eddie to fumble to catch up.

When Eddie stepped off the bus, the first thing he noticed was how white everything was. It was to be expected, of course; it’s kind of hard to ski without snow. But it was such a stark difference from where they’d been just an hour ago. The difference a small distance could make was staggering; this didn’t even feel like it belonged in the same universe.

The view was gorgeous with its tall log cabins, ski lifts moving like carousels, and snow-covered evergreens on every surface. Eddie was half tempted to throw himself down in the snow and make a snow angel.

But the cold nipping at his nose was a reminder that before he could indulge in any snow activities, he had to actually get equipped for the snow.

To their left, Mr. Daniels and Eric were unloading everyone’s bags from the storage compartment beneath the bus. Eddie could already spot his small suitcase, a bright pink flamingo covered hand-me-down from his mom, sitting in the snow.

While they waited, Richie’s friends sauntered over, Stan happily alongside them.

“I can’t wait to hit the slopes.” Bill greeted them as he bobbed up and down eagerly, his enthusiasm contagious.

“I’m just excited for the hot chocolate.” Beverly countered, as she wrapped her sweater a little tighter around herself. All their winter coats were stuffed in their suitcases, the cold air taking advantage of their thin jackets and exposed skin.

“Here Beverly.” Ben had shrugged off his sweater and was offering it to Beverly with a shy little quirk of his lips, but Beverly regarded it for only a moment before shaking her head. She took the sweater and threw it back over Ben’s shoulders before crowding her way into his space and snuggling right up against his chest.

“Body heat works better.” She teased lowly.

Richie let out a long, slow whistle, summing up what everyone was thinking; Beverly was sly as hell and Ben was gleefully in way over his head.

The exchange made Eddie crave Richie’s warmth, yearn to be back in that motel bed, blissfully unaware of how intimate they were being in their sleep.

There was no more being blissfully unaware, not with how Eddie’s heart beat to a different rhythm every time Richie’s arm would brush up against his.

“Alright, everyone grab your bags and follow me.” Mr. Daniels announced, finally closing the now empty compartment of the bus.

The seven of them sauntered over to the pile of suitcases and duffel bags, searching out their own among the many.

Even though Eddie had already spotted his suitcase, he pretended to search for it for a while longer until Richie found his. Only then did he grab the bright pink monstrosity by the handle and begin lugging it up the hill, Richie wordlessly in tow behind him.

They managed to reach the top of the hill without Richie stumbling too much, but as soon as Mrs. Harrow came into view there was no hiding Richie’s injury anymore.

With hawk eyes homing in, Mrs. Harrow walked over to Richie with a displeased expression.

“What happened here, Richard?”

She sounded almost exasperated, and it made Eddie want to step in and defend him.

“Oh, you know, just my bum leg. It acts up every now and then, ever since that terrible kite flying accident…” Richie looked off into the distance as if remembering a tragedy of great proportions.

Mrs. Harrow rolled her eyes. Eddie’s anger flared once again.

“Well, we can’t send you home now, so you’ll just have to spend the trip indoors. Absolutely no reckless activity, you got that Tozier?”

“Aye aye, captain!”

Mrs. Harrow didn’t acknowledge his response, simply turned her back towards them and began her search for the next student in need of scolding.

As soon as she was out of ear shot, Eddie began fuming.

“What the hell, why does Mrs. Harrow have it out for you? Can’t she see you’re hurt? Is she even capable of sympathy?”

When Eddie looked over to Richie, he saw something soft and sweet in his expression, a contrast to Eddie’s bubbling temper. “You care about me.” Richie mused with a smirk.

“W-what- no I don’t- I mean I do but- not like- shut up.” Eddie grabbed his suitcase once again and began walking away.

“You can deny it all you want, Kaspbrak. I see right through you!”

Eddie flipped Richie off over his shoulder as he disappeared through giant mahogany double doors.

Their rooms were small, a single bed meant to be shared between the two classmates who signed up to room together. Normally on school trips, the school tried to cram as many students into one room as possible, but they must have known from prior visits to the lodge that these rooms just couldn’t hold more than two at a time.

However, despite the small quarters, they were undeniably beautiful. Every surface seemed to be made from the same rich darkened wood, and every accent was bronzed. One wall was taken up by giant windows that overlooked the mountain below them, able to be hidden behind heavy curtains that took Eddie’s full force to pull closed.

Eddie and Stan didn’t spend much time in their room, stopping only briefly to drop off their luggage and get bundled up in preparation for the slopes. Eddie was practically buzzing at the opportunity to teach himself something completely foreign; it’d been a long time since a new sport had been in his reach, and he was planning on taking full advantage of the absence of Sonia.

“Are you almost ready?” Eddie bounced on the balls of his feet as he waited for Stan by the door, one hand already on the knob in anticipation.

“Yes, for god sake Eddie, I just need to find my gloves.”

Eddie’s eyes glazed over as he thought about the adrenaline rush he’d longed for. He still played tons of sports but there was something about learning a new one that left Eddie especially excited. He didn’t care much for the competitiveness of sports, and while he didn’t mind the sportsmanship of it all, it wasn’t why Eddie was motivated to get involved. Quite simply put, Eddie just wanted to play. He wanted to live out the experiences he missed out on, that pure rush that came from scraping your knees while playing soccer or face planting while diving for the volleyball. It may seem uninteresting to those who had already lived it out in childhood, but to Eddie it was nothing short of euphoric.

“Here they are!” Stan exclaimed, holding his pair of gloves above his head as he tucked everything else back inside his suitcase.

“Good, now come on, let’s goooooo.”

Eddie was already out the door before Stan could answer, but he knew he was following by the distinct sound of swishing snow pants.

They made their way down to the lobby, eagerly chatting about how fun their afternoon was going to be, when they ran straight into a brick wall of a body.

“Fucking move, queers.” Henry ground out, placing a flat hand on Eddie’s face and pushing him aside with ease.

“Henry, don’t you have anything better to do than project your internalized homophobia onto others.” Stan replied flatly.

“What the fuck did you say to me?” Henry hissed, flipping his attention to Stan with a new temper flaring.

“Stan…” Eddie warned, reaching for Stan’s hand to pull him away from the rising confrontation.

Stan seemed to pale as he realized his comment wasn’t going to be shrugged off. He tried to keep himself composed but Eddie knew his tells well enough to notice the change.

Henry’s gaze flicked down to where Eddie was trying to join hands with Stan, and a wicked grin soured his face.

“Oh, I see…” Henry began, stalking closer to the pair and causing them to stumble back. They didn’t fear Henry like they used to, but he still held some power in those eyes that had never fully ceased to make them tremble.

“You two fucking fairies together now? I should have seen it coming, pansies aren’t potted too far from one another. So, tell me, who made the first move, huh?”

Eddie’s throat was thick with fear, his eyes unable to move from where Henry’s gaze pinned them.

“Wait don’t tell me… It was you, wasn’t it, Uris? Eddie here is too limp wristed to do anything, just a little girl in sheep’s clothing. But then again, I guess if the rumors are true, you’re not completely useless. At least you give good head.”

Eddie’s face burned as he held back the tears that threatened to give him away. He was fine, Henry’s words were hollow. Eddie had already heard every gay slur Henry had in his vocabulary.

“Too bad you’re not pretty enough to turn any of them into faggo-”

Eddie’s fist moved before his brain did, lining up perfectly with Henry’s jaw and landing the punch exactly where it would hurt most. Stan flinched beside him as the sickening crack rang out in the empty hallway, followed by a wail that made snow drop from the treetops outside. Eddie didn’t move, refused to let himself back down even as the tears broke free and streamed down his face.

“KASPBRAK.”

Eddie jumped, whipping around in horror as Mrs. Harrow’s voice broke through his resolve.

“WHAT THE HELL.”

Eddie stared in shock. He’d never done anything worthy of breaking a teacher’s ‘no cursing’ rule before, though he’d seen many teachers reach their point of profanity with other students before. It sort of felt similar to when you see a teacher outside of school and are reminded that they don’t just exist inside the bubble you’ve put them in. Well, the bubble had popped, and Mrs. Harrow was now stalking towards him with a new air that absolutely paralyzed him. He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he didn’t. He just continued staring back at her, watching as she passed him and rushed over to Henry, taking his face in her hand and angling his head to assess the damage. Luckily, there was no visible injury past some reddening (though the same wouldn’t be true once the bruising began to set in).

“Eddie.” Mrs. Harrow sighed. She released Henry’s face and brought the hand up to her own, pinching the skin between her eyes as if she was fighting back a cresting headache.

She probably was.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Harrow, I didn’t-”

Eddie was interrupted with a single finger, held up intimidatingly as Mrs. Harrow continued to try and gather her patience.

“No skiing.”

“What!?”

“What about that needs clarification, Edward?”

“But I didn’t do anything!”

“I watched you punch Mr. Bowers across the face.”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“No. Skiing.”

Eddie fidgeted in place as he desperately grasped at straws in his head that could possibly get him out of this situation. Maybe if he could get Mrs. Harrow alone and just explain to her what Henry was saying-

With an exasperated sigh, Mrs. Harrow placed a hand on Henry’s shoulder and began leading him back down the hallway from which she’d appeared.

“Come on Henry, we’ll get you some ice.”

Eddie couldn’t move, he’d become cemented to the floor at some point during his meltdown.

“Eddie?” Stan’s soft voice penetrated the space between them, but it sounded distant. Anger bubbled up inside Eddie, anger that he wasn’t at all certain how to process.

“Hey, Eddie, I’m so sorry. You know none of what Bowers said was true, right?”

Like a kettle blowing its whistle, Eddie’s top popped.

“OF COURSE IT’S TRUE.”

Eddie whipped around to face Stan, his cheeks red hot as he filled with steam.

“I’M GAY, STANLEY. DON’T YOU KNOW? I’M A FUCKING FRUIT CAKE. AND NOT EVEN A GOOD FRUIT CAKE, I’M ONE OF THOSE CHRISTMAS FRUIT CAKES THAT EVERYONE JUST PUTS IN THEIR FREEZER AND FORGETS ABOUT UNTIL SUMMER. THEN THEY THROW ME OUT, BECAUSE NO ONE EVEN LIKES FRUIT CAKE STANLEY.”

“Hotdogs like fruitcakes.”

Eddie sputtered; his mind unable to connect the pieces while he was burning red hot.

“WHAT?”

He could probably stop yelling, but if Eddie let himself think too long about how he just came out to his best friend, he might melt the rest of the way into the ground and become nothing more than carpeting.

“Hotdogs. I hear they go well with fruitcakes.” Stan repeated calmly.

Eddie felt like he was going to combust.

“What are you-”

“Richie is your hotdog, right?”

At the mention of Richie, Eddie’s anger began to simmer down, exhaustion pulling at his muscles. All he could do was nod.

“Look, Eddie, if it wasn’t obvious enough already, I don’t care that you’re gay. I’m a Jewish boy scout whose nerd repertoire is more extensive than that of most comic book writers, what space do I have to judge.”

Eddie’s heart rate was settling down, the reassurance from his friend a comforting constant. This was Stanley, he’d never cared what ‘secrets’ Eddie had kept from him before, and this was no different. Well, this was a little different from the time he stole Stan’s pudding cup and then confessed an hour later out of guilt. But even then, Stan had been nothing but understanding.

“Yeah, he’s the hot dog.” Eddie’s voice was beginning to level out as well, the heat of the moment passing on.

“Richie isn’t like all those other hot dogs. He’s sure of himself in a way I’ve never met anyone else to be. The way his friends speak about him leaves no doubt in my mind that he has himself figured out; at least enough not to hurt you. He’s one of the good guys, Eddie.”

“One of the good hotdogs.” Eddie corrected.

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to drop that now that we’re being transparent with each other. I don’t like having to think about Richie’s… hotdog every time we tiptoe around your metaphor.”

Eddie’s cheeks blushed a furious shade of fuchsia as his mind also began to wander towards Richie’s hotdog.

“Richie’s stuck indoors for the next few days too, right?” Stan prompted.

“Yeah, Mrs. Harrow was pretty clear about that.” Eddie scowled at the memory. “So, you guys are stuck in lockdown together; seems like the perfect romance scenario to me.”

The more Eddie thought about it, the more things seemed to fall into place. Eddie had been excited about skiing, but what he was more excited about was this budding energy between him and Richie. Mrs. Harrow had unknowingly set up the perfect circumstance for them to spend as much time together as possible, and if Eddie could muster up the courage, he just might try to take advantage of it.

Stan and Eddie had parted hours ago, but Eddie was just now beginning to rouse back into existence.

After the fight with Henry, Eddie’s lack of sleep from the night before finally caught up with him. The nap on the bus had been helpful, but not enough to regenerate all the energy he’d lost to his anxiety the past 24 hours. As soon as he’d returned to his room he hadn’t been able to fight it anymore. He’d barely gotten his shoes off before collapsing into the inviting plush bedding and zonking out for three hours.

Lucky for Eddie, three hours didn’t put him back that much. It was dinner time, but Eddie knew most of the students were prepared to stay on the slopes until the late hours of the night (or at least until teacher enforced curfew).

Eddie was overheating, having fallen asleep with his winter coat and snow pants on. He was surprised he hadn’t died in his sleep from a layer induced fever. Could that even happen? Well, Eddie wasn’t keen on finding out today. He promptly stripped off the stifling clothing and did the same with his undergarments. While the suffocating layers may not have killed him, they had certainly left him covered in sweat.

Eddie trailed into the bathroom, catching a glimpse of his naked form in the mirror and stopping. He turned fully towards his reflection, squinting as if sizing himself up.

He wasn’t very buff, but he was nicely filled out from years of dabbling in sports. He definitely still had a thinner body, his waist dipping in elegantly before flaring back out into hips that, quite honestly, were pretty generous for a man. Eddie didn’t love his body, but who did? Everyone had issues to point out if they took a magnifying glass to themselves, but overall, Eddie was pleased with his appearance.

He hoped that Richie would be too, if they ever ended up there.

Eddie turned to the side, assessing his profile. He wondered what it would look like if Richie was slotted in behind him, arms wrapped tight around Eddie’s thin waist to hold him close. The height difference alone would cause Eddie to look small in comparison; Richie was an absolute tree. The thought shouldn’t have made Eddie feel as hot as it did, but he soon found himself heating up again.

Eddie leaned over the sink, resting his elbows on the edge so he could lean in close to his figure. His cock brushed up against the cold wood surface of the counter and he gasped in surprise, looking down to find it peering up at him in intrigue.

Eddie’s wonderings about Richie must have gotten him a little more worked up than he’d anticipated.

Glancing back up at himself in the mirror, Eddie let one hand trail down to the spot between his legs. He grasped himself as he pictured Richie behind him, staring back at him through their reflections with that enticing grin.

‘What, Eds. Don’t think I’ll fuck you right here in the bathroom?’

Eddie moaned quietly to himself, picturing just how he’d respond to Richie’s teasing.

‘I bet you won’t, Tozier. Too afraid of someone walking in on us. You’re all talk but no game.’

Eddie would dangle the challenge in front of Richie knowing full well that he wouldn’t back down. He’d take Eddie’s hips and thrust himself inside without hesitation, just one single move would be all it took for Richie to fill him up.

Eddie’s wrist cramped from the awkward angle he held it at, but he refused to move from his spot bent over the sink, too caught up in the fantasy.

He replayed the moans he’d committed to memory the night before, those sinful sounds that Richie seemed to let slip out like he didn’t know they were poisonous darts striking right through Eddie’s skin.

‘Richie…’ Eddie moaned, the sound echoing in the empty bathroom.

‘Eddie…’ He could hear Richie say, pounding into him at a relentless pace that would leave bruises on Eddie’s skin from where he slammed into the countertop.

And then Eddie was releasing into his fist, cum pooling over and dripping into the sink. His body shook with shock and his toes curled, eyes squeezing shut as he milked the last bit out of himself before going completely slack.

He was grateful that counter was there to hold him up, because if not he would have probably fallen to the floor.

It took a moment for Eddie to finally open his eyes again, but when he did, he was surprised at how disappointed he was that Richie wasn’t actually there. He knew he’d gotten lost in his mind, but it didn’t ease his despondency.

Eddie stepped into the shower, committing himself to not think about Richie at least until he returned squeaky clean.

It didn’t work.

Eddie had thought about Richie the entire shower.

Eddie tried to let his worry be soothed by Stan’s words, though it continued to flare at the least opportune times. Eddie accepted that he probably wouldn’t be completely placated until he had Richie do it himself, hopefully through tender hands and soothing touches.

Eddie redressed himself, this time forgoing the heavy layers in favor of a warm wool sweater and comfortable sweatpants. He didn’t bother styling his hair, too set on hunting down Richie to care whether his locks were combed to the left or to the right.

He quickly pocketed his cellphone and room key, setting off in search of the only other student in the building.

Eddie didn’t know Richie’s room number, so he took a gamble and wandered into the lobby. There was a pool table in the center of the room, looking lonely as those around it chose to read a book by the fireplace or chat quietly by the windows. There weren’t many people to speak of, so it was easy to quickly spot that familiar face that made Eddie’s heart skip.

Richie was laying across one of the couches, arms flung across his chest in protest. He was grumbling lowly to the man sitting a seat away, which Eddie recognized as their bus driver.

“And so, in walks the other prisoner.” Eric drawled as he noticed Eddie, an easy smile on his face.

Richie’s head popped up quickly, his curls bouncing as they tried to keep up with the swift change in position. Once Richie saw Eddie, the rest of his body followed enthusiastically as he jumped up from his seat.

“EDDIE!” Richie cheered loudly, before quickly clearing his throat and lowering his voice to a more lobby-appropriate volume. “What are you doing here?”

“Uhh, I sort of…” Eddie chanced a glance over Richie’s shoulder, noting that Eric wasn’t paying attention to their conversation. “punched Henry Bowers.” He mumbled lowly.

“YOU WHAT!?”

“SHHHHH!” Eddie grabbed Richie by the arm and pulled him back down to the couch, looking around them anxiously to see if Richie had drawn any eyes. “It’s not a big deal, okay?” Eddie added once he was sure no one was listening in.

“Uhm, I’d say punching the guy who’s made everyone’s life a living hell for the past four years counts as a big deal.” Richie challenged.

Eddie sighed, letting himself lean back into the leather couch as he chewed on his bottom lip. Richie wasn’t wrong, it wasn’t not a big deal, but Eddie wasn’t the violent type. He hadn’t meant to do what he’d done; he’d just snapped. He didn’t regret it, but he didn’t want to dwell on it either, especially since dwelling on it meant remembering all that lead up to it.

“Can we talk about something else please?” Eddie asked, his voice small and begging.

Richie was clearly itching for more details, but he still dropped the subject as he copied Eddie’s position sinking into the couch.

“So, what are you doing here?” Eddie asked, grateful that Richie had respected his request.

“Eric’s on babysitting duty.” Richie nodded over to Eric who sent them a thumbs up without looking away from his phone. “Mrs. Harrow doesn’t trust me to stay inside.”

“I mean, to be fair, neither do I.” Eddie mused, a smirk playing on his face.

Richie bumped his shoulder into Eddie’s, feigning offence even as laughter spilled from his chest.

“Fine, but at least leave me with something to do, you know? I’m not a convict, I’m injured!” Richie lifted his leg and pointed to his ankle as if to prove his point.

“As the convict here, I take offense to that.” Eddie teased.

“Well, Eddie, how do you feel about reformation?” Eric asked. As Eddie regarded him, he saw that Eric had pocketed his phone and was now leaning towards them in engagement.

Eddie narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Depends on what sort of reformation.”

“Why don’t you take over guard duty?” Eric offered, nodding towards Richie. “Personally, I’d have let Richie stay in his room anyway, but I was given my orders. If you make sure he doesn’t leave, then at least the two of you can spend your evening watching TV or something. Just don’t let anyone see you outside your rooms, I don’t want to get in trouble for abandoning post. Mrs. Harrow is scary when she’s mad.”

Eric mimicked a shiver running down his spine before shaking it off, smiling at the two of them warmly.

“Eric, as per usual, you are the BEST.” Richie cheered.

“Yeah, I know.”

Richie and Eddie wasted no time before scrambling to their feet and jetting out of the lobby. They didn’t discuss whose room they were going to, but once Richie pressed his floor number on the elevator keypad it was unspoken.

Eddie was going to be alone in a room with Richie. Unsupervised. For hours.

Eddie was going to shit his pants.

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #reddie fanfic #reddie fanfiction #reddie smut #reddie lemon #my posts #my writing #OTEOAA

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jjoutermaybanks · 5 years ago

Text

Electric Love || JJ Maybank x Reader

part one part two part three

summary: you’re the newest member of the pogues, a girl living with one foot in the rich life and one foot in the risky life. you fit right in with the crew, especially the charismatic, annoyingly attractive JJ. how will a drunken night of deep conversation and a dreaded summer party change your friendship forever?

word count: 6k

warnings: time to get ~smutty~

(also rubber up kids no glove no love don’t do it like Y/N and JJ)

*not my gif, credit to owner*

PART THREE

The end of the party finally came, after what felt like an eternity of waiting and avoiding JJ. Sarah had to go home with her dad and Rose to celebrate whatever award he’d received, but she swore to meet up with you all tomorrow. Pope claimed the same thing; his dad had wanted him to work the event, not attend, so he felt obligated to spend the night at his own house. Kiara didn’t mind doing whatever, and John B. looked to me to see what I wanted.

“Want to come back to the Chateau with us?” he asked softly, and Kiara nodded in support.

“We can watch a movie and raid John. B’s snack stash.” Her brown eyes were warm and hopeful, and you knew what they were trying to do. By now everyone had heard--or seen, more likely--what JJ had done. He’d flaunted the brunette all night, at one point blatantly making out with her in the middle of the party. Kie had tried to make you feel better by calling him an asshole and swearing she’d kick his ass, but this didn’t really help. You didn’t hate JJ; quite the opposite, in fact. Calling him an asshole didn’t soften the pain, because it only made you remember all the times he wasn’t an asshole. Like when he carried you home after you split your foot open on a rock, or the time when you were miserable after a fight with your mom and he stayed up half the night at the Chateau cracking jokes just to make you smile.

“That sounds amazing,” you conceded, taking a deep breath before adding, “but I can’t. My mom is gonna want to hear all about my night, and more importantly gossip about hers, so...I’ll see you guys later.” Your smile was forced, but after John B. gave you a hug it became more natural. No matter how rocky your relationship was with JJ right now, you knew you had true friends in the other Pogues.

As you made your way through the dwindling crowd, a familiar blonde appeared in front of you. At first JJ didn’t see you, looking around for someone else. And then his eyes landed on you, taking in your broken expression and sagging shoulders. You noticed his undone bow tie, hanging limply by his neck despite the expert job you’d done on it earlier. His hair was messy, and his shirt was almost entirely untucked. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why he looked like this, and your stomach twisted painfully at the thought.

His jaw set, eyes steeling as they met yours. “Going to find Rafe?” His tone was clipped, a slight smirk twisting his pink lips that dug into your heart like a knife.

You attempted to appear unaffected by him, raising your chin with a blank look. “No, I’m not, actually. Not that you’d believe me either way.” Your fists clenched by your sides as you stood your ground. JJ raised his eyebrows, disguising his reaction with a smirk.

For a second, his lips parted as if to say something. Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by a slender hand snaking around his waist, belonging to the brunette. She was even prettier up close, in a fake tan, perfect teeth kind of way. She gave you a calculating look, causing heat to rise in your cheeks.

JJ cleared his throat, throwing an arm loosely around her shoulder as they breezed right by you. Just as he passed, you caught JJ’s eye; the look he gave you was chilling, his eyes icy and distant. Goosebumps raised on your skin at the sheer frigidity of his demeanor, but you had to push this aside. It didn’t matter, you shouldn’t care so much.

You repeated this mantra all the way home, until you closed the front door behind you and collapsed against the wall. You could hear your mother bustling in the kitchen, surely on cloud nine after tonight. Working up all the energy you had to talk to her, you trudged into the kitchen.

“Y/N! Finally! Wasn’t that just splendid?” Your mother had taken off her gaudy dress and was now in a robe, but still had her hair and makeup done. She looked like a clown, and you knew if JJ were here you two would be laughing about it.

“It was...fine,” you said simply. Honestly, you didn’t even pay attention to the party itself, your thoughts too preoccupied by something else. This didn’t please your mother, however, who then launched into a lecture about how ungrateful you were and that you should show more appreciation for her hard work.

“Look, Mom,” you interrupted after letting her rant and rave for five minutes. “I’m exhausted. Can we fight about this later?” It was no point trying to end the argument; you two were always in a constant combative state. If it wasn’t about the party, it would be about your reckless friends, or your laziness, or the fact that you were never home.

Your mother scoffed. “Fine, avoid confrontation, take the easy way out like you always do. One day you’ll have to take responsibility, you know!” she called after you, but you’d stopped paying attention and slammed the door to your room before she even finished.

The next day you reconvened with the Pogues as planned. Almost all of the Pogues, that is. JJ didn’t show up to your usual meeting place at the dock, and no one had heard from him.

“I wonder where he could be,” Sarah fretted. It wasn’t like JJ to just ghost on you.

Pope rubbed his arm uncomfortably, avoiding your eyes. You could sense he had something to say, and sighed. “Spit it out, Pope.”

He nodded. “It’s just...I think he’s probably with that girl from the party. If I had to take a guess, that is. I could be totally wrong--” He rambled on, trying to soften the blow of an idea you’d already thought of. You knew Pope was probably right. JJ had most likely spent the night with the girl, and he wasn’t the type of guy to just skip out on someone the next morning. You were almost irritated at how chivalrous he was.

“It’s fine, you guys,” you stated, hating how your stupid feelings were affecting the group. “Let’s just move on, alright? What do we have planned for today?”

And it actually was fine, for the most part. Pope needed help fixing his dad’s boat, and so the day was spent working out mechanics and laying around in the sun. Sarah relayed all of the Kook gossip to you and Kie, and it was pretty entertaining hearing about the problems of Outer Banks princesses. Even when the day was winding to a close with no word from JJ, you already felt slightly better. The pain always subsided, it just took a little time. And with the added distance JJ had apparently decided to put between you two, the process would be even easier.

However, after a third day without seeing JJ, you started to worry. Even the other Pogues had started to wonder what had happened to him. It wasn’t like JJ to skip out on all of you, and you knew he valued friendship over everything else. No girl could have changed him this much, no matter how pretty she was.

“At what point do we file a missing person’s report?” you questioned on the fourth afternoon, sitting on the dock beside Pope as he worked on the finishing touches of his dad’s boat. It was just the two of you, so you felt comfortable enough to voice your fears.

Adjusting his hat to keep the sun out of his eyes, Pope cast you a doubtful glance. “I don’t think the cops around here would care too much if we said he was missing,” Pope admitted. “I mean, it’s JJ. He’s gotten in so much trouble before they might even be happy he’s AWOL.”

Hearing the harsh words stung your heart, but you knew they were true. Sensing your grimace, Pope sighed, setting down his tools to sit beside you. “I’m sorry, that was mean.”

“Not mean,” you murmured. “Just true.”

Pope was quiet for a while, and you both watched your hazy reflections in the water before you. Your feet swished in the murky depths as thoughts swam around your mind. After a few minutes, he spoke up again. “What exactly went down between you and JJ? Other than the kiss thing with Rafe.” Pope’s question was innocent, and you knew you owed him an explanation. The only problem was you didn’t even know how to explain it to yourself.

Inhaling deeply, you shrugged. “With JJ it’s always been...different. We’re best friends, of course, but sometimes it felt like more. The way he talked to me, the way he looked at me...I knew he wanted something else, but I was too scared to give it to him.”

“Why?” Pope asked you. “This is just me guessing, but I feel like you maybe liked him too.”

You smiled. “It was that obvious, huh?” Your thoughts drifted to JJ, and for the first time in a while you let your true emotions speak. You remembered his bright blue eyes, how you felt when they connected with your gaze. You remembered his charming smile, how it always managed to banish the darkness. Frowning slightly, you responded, “I don’t know why I was scared...maybe because I’ve never had anything serious with anyone before? Maybe I was too worried about ruining our friendship. I had a lot of excuses, but none of them were good enough to ever get rid of the feelings fully.”

Pope nodded along as you spoke, understanding as ever. “That’s how I feel about Kiara,” he told you, surprising you with his honesty. “I’m crazy about her, but I’d hate to ruin what we have now.”

You nudged his shoulder. “You can’t live in fear, Pope. You have to make a move or you’ll never know.” You also knew Kiara would be thrilled if he actually confessed his feelings.

He smiled at you, eyes full of amusement. “Exactly, and that’s what you should do too.” Rolling your eyes at his reverse logic, you chuckled and shook your head.

“You’re right, obviously. I just need to get over myself.” You knew this was the answer all along, but talking with Pope made it that much clearer. The next time you saw JJ, you would confront him, and whatever happened would be worth it because at least you tried.

But you didn’t know when you’d see him next. He’d been gone for so long, it was anybody’s guess when he’d be back. You didn’t know how long you could wait before all of this newfound bravery was gone.

Getting to your feet quickly, you grinned at Pope. “You know what? That’s just what I’m going to do. I’m going to find JJ.”

Standing up as well, Pope furrowed his brows. “Uh, how? No one’s seen him for days.”

Waving your car keys in the air, you said, “I’ll drive around the whole damn island before I give up. He has to be somewhere around here, right?” You let this brief optimism fuel you as you climbed into your car, firing up the engine and rolling down the window to hear Pope.

He leaned his forearms on the door, peering into the car with a skeptical glance. “Look, Y/N, I’m all for you shooting your shot and following your heart. But...if it leads you nowhere, try not to be too devastated, okay?”

You nodded, hoping your smile was convincing enough to soothe Pope’s worries. You heard what he was saying and took it to heart; for all you knew JJ would laugh in your face when you told him how you felt. But you had to try, or you’d live the rest of your life regretting it.

For the next few hours, you drove around the whole island, searching all the usual spots for JJ. He wasn’t anywhere near the docks, he wasn’t hanging out in The Wreck. You drove through The Cut to no avail, even getting out to ask a few locals if they’d seen him. Refusing to give up, you tried Figure 8 next, thinking that maybe he’d been spending his days terrorizing Kooks. But he wasn’t there either, and once you’d searched everywhere imaginable you slowed to a stop on the side of the road, smacking the wheel out of frustration.

Where the hell are you, JJ? Biting your lip and peering out at the empty street, you wracked your brain for any place you’d overlooked. After a minute of thinking, only one place came to mind. It was so obvious you’d figured he would never go there. You also didn’t think he’d want to set foot anywhere near it.

His house.

You’d only been there once, but with all the Pogues there with you. JJ had needed to get something from inside, and the tension in the air when John B. pulled the van up to the run-down shack was suffocating. Your heart had never beat harder than when you were waiting for JJ to reemerge, hopefully unscathed. After a painful twenty minutes, he’d finally come out, but with a few bruises and scratches to show for it.

When he’d slid into the seat beside you, he said nothing about what had happened inside. And you hadn’t asked, either, knowing that wasn’t what he wanted. So you simply leaned your head against his shoulder, praying that he knew you were there for him. His only reaction to this had been to kiss the top of your head, and that was all you needed to know he understood.

Now, the thought of going back there terrified you. It was truly the last possible option, and you knew you had to check it before giving up on your mission. But the thought of going to that place where so much hurt had occurred...you almost prayed not to find JJ, because that meant he was safe from his father.

Hands shaking as you drove, you tried to compose your breathing. It was a short drive, too short for the amount of mental preparation needed. You parked the car and turned it off, staring out at the seemingly quiet exterior of the house. Appearances were deceiving, though; you knew the horrors that took place behind those walls.

Sucking in a breath, you forced the door open and began to walk towards the house. No point in dawdling, you had a job to do. But as you came closer and closer, you began to hear something. It was a sound you’d seldom heard before, but one that haunted your sleep for weeks on end.

It was the sound of JJ screaming.

Automatically you froze, your entire body immobilized by his voice. Along with his voice was another, a man’s, yelling just as loud. There was a harsh crack, followed by a deep thump that made you flinch. Suddenly you couldn’t breathe, and terror overtook your body.

All of a sudden the front door flung open. The shouts were clearer now, and you glimpsed JJ wrestling out of someone’s grip. His blonde hair was stained with something, his ripped tank top smeared as well. Your heart sank when you realized it was fresh red blood.

JJ’s grunts echoed in your ears as he fought, and the sound of a fist cracking against someone’s face made your eyes shut tight. But they quickly reopened when his father hollered angrily, and you saw JJ rushing towards you.

“Y/N?!” he cried, completely stupefied that you were here. Struggling to form words, you felt your eyes well with tears. But JJ didn’t stop to console you, instead grabbed your arm and ripped you back. It was then you saw his father barreling out the door as well, pure malice in his black eyes.

Slamming into your car, you fumbled with the door and held your breath as JJ collapsed into the passenger seat. “Fucking drive!” he snapped, and you didn’t hesitate before flooring the gas and sending the car jerking into motion. JJ’s father stumbled to the ground, and you watched his figure recede in the rearview mirror.

Gripping the wheel so tight your knuckles were white, you swallowed hard before risking a glance at JJ. If you were stunned before, this was a whole new level of shock. Not only was his shirt and hair stained with blood, but it was dripping from a deep gash in his forehead and cut in his lip. Purple bruises dotted his face, and one of his eyes was a gruesome black color.

You took a shaky breath, swerving accidentally as your shell shock distracted you. JJ immediately lunged to grab the wheel, and the car lurched violently as you hit the brakes.

“What the fuck?” he demanded, eyes hooded with anger as he glared at you. “Can you drive?”

You couldn’t speak, your heart hammering too loudly to think straight. JJ saw the pure fear in your eyes, and instantly softened, his tense shoulders slackening as he pushed his matted hair off his face.

“Shit,” he muttered, staring out at the road in front of you. “What the fuck were you doing at my house?” His tone was a mixture of anger and genuine concern, and it took everything in you not to cry.

“I-I was looking for you,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “You disappeared, and I...I missed you.”

JJ’s face flashed with anguish for a brief second, before he heaved a sigh. “You know the shit that happens at my house,” he said quietly. “What if you’d...what if you got hurt?”

Sniffling, you twisted in the seat to face him. “I don’t care, I had to see you--”

“I care, dammit! I fucking care if you get hurt or not,” he retorted angrily. You shrank back at the hostility in his tone, and when he saw your reaction JJ pressed a hand to his face. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to yell, it’s just...” His glazed over, as if with tears. “If anything had happened to you back there, if my dad had even laid a hand on you--”

Reaching out to touch his shoulder, you shook your head quickly. “But he didn’t, I’m fine.” When he didn’t look at you, you leaned closer and tried to meet his gaze. Finally he conceded, and watery blue eyes met yours. “Let me take you somewhere,” you begged. “You need to be cleaned up, see if you should go to the hospital.”

JJ tensed. “I’m not going to any damn hospital, Y/N.”

Worried he’d get angry again, you rubbed his arm soothingly and smiled. “Okay, no hospital. Just please let me take care of you?” JJ leaned back against the seat, struggling to breathe normally. After a second, he finally nodded, and you started up the car.

Thankfully your mother had chosen this week to go out of town. It had been nice having the house to yourself, and now especially you were grateful to be alone when you walked through the front door. Holding JJ’s hand, you led him upstairs into the bathroom and had him lean against the counter.

Finding what little first-aid materials you had, you joined him in the bathroom and shut the door. Rifling through the box you found only a couple band-aids and some disinfectant. Biting your lip, you grabbed a washcloth and wet it in the sink. JJ watched your actions closely, arms folded in a guarded position to protect himself. Your heart ached at the thought of him in pain, and you had to force tears out of your eyes a few times.

“Look at me,” you instructed softly, trying to compose yourself when his blue eyes turned to you. You focused on his cuts, gently touching the wet washcloth to the wounds. JJ winced when you made contact, and you placed a hand on his thigh to calm him down. Working slowly and methodically, you cleared off most of the blood from his face, still horrified by the purple bruises that remained on the skin.

A particularly deep cut on his eyebrow refused to stop bleeding, and you moved to press the washcloth to the wound. But JJ resisted, ducking away from you.

“You don’t need to clean me up like a child, Y/N,” he growled, making you press your lips together in a thin line.

“I’m not,” you answered plainly. “Please, just hold still.” He complied, and you pressed the cloth to his eyebrow. JJ hissed at the pain, and you held back a grimace. The thought of you hurting him devastated you, but you also knew he needed to be cleaned up.

JJ was refusing to meet your eyes at this point, anger practically rolling off of him. It was hard to breathe in such a small space, and you found yourself getting lightheaded after a while. When JJ’s eyebrow stopped bleeding, you decided it was time to move on.

“Okay, take your shirt off.” You needed to inspect the bruises there to make sure he didn’t have a broken rib or internal bleed.

But JJ wasn’t having it, and he jumped off the counter. “No way, we’re done here. I’ve got shit to do.” He went to leave, but you grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Wait, please!” He stopped, but didn’t turn around. “Please, JJ. Let me help you. I just...I want to know what happened, and what I can do to make it better.”

Finally he faced you again. A thousand emotions sparked behind his eyes, and he clenched his teeth to fight off emotion. “Why? Why do you care?”

Parting your lips, you said, “Because you’re my best friend.”

He winced, and panic flared in your chest. “Best friends,” he echoed, sounding hollow and uncaring.

Panic flared in your chest, and you grabbed his hands. “More than best friends, JJ. I--” You didn’t know how to finish that statement. You knew how you felt, but you didn’t know if you could handle rejection right now. JJ’s expression changed when he heard you start speaking, but when you stuttered his brow lowered over his eyes.

“You kissed Rafe, Y/N,” he reminded you, causing you to sigh.

“I didn’t,” you forced, hoping he actually understood. “I know what it looked like, but I promise you, I did not want to kiss him.”

A few seconds passed, his expression still furious. “You mean that bastard kissed you without permission?” At your slight nod, he huffed. “I’m gonna kill him with my bare hands--”

“No, no, JJ!” you quickly interrupted, stepping closer so you could press your hands to his chest. “Don’t kill anyone, not for me.”

Gazing down at you, he lifted a hand to rest on the side of your neck, igniting sparks where his fingers fell. “For you, I’d do anything,” he whispered, and your heart flipped.

But then you frowned. “What about the girl from the party? The Kook?” It hurt just to mention her, and the guilt that flashed across JJ’s face only hurt you more.

“She was...nothing. She meant nothing,” he explained, willing you to understand with his eyes. “I don’t even know what I was thinking.” His hand on your neck moved up to wipe a stray tear off your cheek. “The whole time I was with her I was...thinking of someone else.”

Your heart stopped beating. “S-someone else?” There was no oxygen left in the room at this point.

JJ brought another hand over so he was cradling your face, looking deeper into your eyes than he ever had before.

“You.”

Once the word left his mouth that was it. You grabbed his neck and pulled him down to meet your lips, kissing him with all the fervor you’d had stored up in you for weeks.

After imagining this very moment for so long, you couldn’t believe how good it felt. JJ’s lips fit yours like a glove, and the taste was something you would never get over. He was warm and firm in all the right places, and his body reacted to yours like you’d been in sync for your whole life.

You were careful to avoid his injuries, your hands gentle on his chest and your mouth light by his busted lip. Despite how delicate he was in this moment, JJ didn’t let this inhibit his passion as he kissed you with a wild vigor.

His fingers wound through your hair, tugging slightly and eliciting a moan from your throat. The sound must have turned him on, because JJ exhaled deeply. His teeth grazed your lower lip, biting down gently as his hands pulled at your hair again. His back was up against the door, and your hand slithered out to grab the handle.

A smirk played across his mouth as you stumbled into the hallway. “Going somewhere?” he murmured into your ear, breath washing over the shell causing you to shiver.

“Trying to find a bed,” you purred, and his eyes darkened at the words. You pushed him towards your bedroom, closing the door behind you as he fell back onto the bed. You wasted no time in straddling his hips, legs on either side of his thighs as you kissed his lips fervently.

Disconnecting your mouths for a brief second, you pulled your shit over your head, tossing it onto the floor and gazing down at JJ as he took in your bare chest. His hands slowly slid up your torso, igniting fire where his fingers touched, until he reached your breasts and you sucked in a breath. He kneaded your breasts, thumb swiping over your hardening nipples. JJ leaned up to press his lips to your skin, swirling his tongue around your nipple and making more moans of pleasure echo through the room.

“JJ,” you whined as you felt his teeth on your sensitive bud, hands wrapped in his blond locks. As he focused on your chest you expertly slid off your shorts, panties going along with them, and settled with your exposed core on his thigh. He felt your heat there and growled, the sound low and sexy in his throat. You kissed up his neck until you found a sweet spot that had his hips bucking, and as you nibbled at his sensitive skin you began to grind against his thigh.

“Holy shit--” he stuttered, hand skimming down your naked back to guide your hips. You giggled into his collarbone, swiping your tongue across his glistening skin.

Tired of the layers still shielding his body from you, you sat back and started lifting his shirt. Once the fabric was tossed onto the floor, you glanced down and gasped at what you saw.

If the bruises on his face were bad, the ones on his body were a hundred times worse. They were huge and the deepest purple color you’d ever seen, littering his ribcage and abdomen. You could practically feel them aching just by looking at them, and suddenly you were afraid to touch him.

JJ sensed the horror you felt, and shifted so he was leaning back on his elbows. “Y/N,” he whispered, shaking his head. “I’m fine, please don’t cry.” But you couldn’t help the tears flowing in your eyes. You couldn’t imagine how someone--how his own father--could do this. How could one person inflict so much damage, and on someone so pure and good? Your entire body ached for JJ, and for the little boy who never knew love from his own dad.

You felt his hand on your cheek, and you melted into his touch. Sniffling, your lower lip trembled as you slowly came forward, hovering above his torso. And then, with the lightest of touches, you kissed his bruises. Your lips were feather-light against his damaged skin, careful not to hurt him as you moved across his ribs. JJ’s breathing was shaky as your fingers ghosted across the bruises, trying to heal him with your loving touch.

Once you’d finished kissing each one, you brought your lips to his. This kiss was different than the one before; it was soft, and full of so much emotion you could barely contain it. JJ held you close to him despite the bruises, and you craved his touch just the same.

Foreheads tilting together, your eyes met in the darkness. “Y/N,” he began, threading through your hair and stroking down your neck. Anticipation for his next words nearly killed you as you held his gaze.

“I love you.”

A tearful smile breaking out across your face, you chuckled and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I love you too, JJ.”

That was all it took to reignite the heated passion from before. All gentleness from your moment with his bruises was gone, replaced by an intense desire for one another. JJ flipped you over so he was on top of you, and you bit your lip as you watched him slide off his shorts. His cock sprang free from the restrictions of his boxers, hard and stiff as it slid against your thigh.

Reaching a hand out, you gripped his shaft and earned a hiss from JJ. When your hand started moving up and down, his breathing all but stopped, eyes shutting as he let the pleasure take over. Your hand worked slowly but expertly, fingers working his swollen tip and collecting the precum there. Your thumb circled his slit, and this caused JJ to jerk in your hand.

“Ah, fuck,” he groaned, giving you a sloppy kiss. “You better stop doing that or this is gonna be over real quick.” Smiling devilishly, you met his lips in a feverish kiss and let go off his cock. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders, nails digging into the skin and surely leaving marks.

JJ’s hand drifted down your abdomen, nearing the place you were desperately aching for him. When his index finger dragged up your core, you suppressed a moan and rolled your eyes back, feeling bliss explode in your stomach. He traced your entrance carefully, teasing your folds in a way that made your thighs shake.

Sensing you were holding back, JJ kissed your neck and instructed, “Moan for me, baby.” His seductive tone was too much for you, and a string of moans left your lips. His finger finally dipped into you, curling against your walls and spreading heat through your body. JJ’s movements were intoxicating, and he knew just where to touch you and how to do it. His thumb pressed against your clit, making you cry out, and then he circled the bundle of nerves. The stimulation was overwhelming, and your hands fisted the sheets to try to hold you to reality.

JJ added another finger inside of you, pumping faster now. In combination with his thumb on your clit, you knew you were done for when the tight ball in your abdomen exploded into a million sparks. Your orgasm fizzled through your nerves, and your cries became louder as they pierced the quiet air.

“God, JJ,” you breathed, gripping his shoulder for support. He grinned above you, shifting his hips so they aligned with yours. You felt the tip of his cock teasing your entrance, sliding through the slick folds and running over your clit.

“Are you ready?” he asked you quietly, hand affectionately running through your hair before resting on your cheek. You leaned into him, nodding with the smallest of smiles on your face.

“I’m ready.”

He didn’t hesitate. With one swift motion, JJ pushed inside of you. The initial stretch nearly took your breath away, and it took a minute to adjust to his size. He filled you up entirely, hitting every sensitive spot you had. The stretch was deliciously searing, and as he began to move inside of you the feeling only intensified.

“You’re so tight,” JJ moaned, his thrusts slow and controlled. His hair fell over his eyes, lips parted in concentration. He looked strikingly beautiful in this moment, and you couldn’t believe he was actually yours.

You rested your hands above your head, and felt JJ wrap his fingers between yours. It was an intimate gesture that made your heart swoon, and you molded your lips against his with every emotion flooding between you.

His thrusts eventually picked up, and he hit even deeper inside of you. “JJ,” you cried out, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He grunted, using one hand to massage your breast. “Say my name again, Y/N,” he ordered, and you were glad to comply.

“JJ,” you moaned, arching your back while his hips rolled into you. “You feel so good, baby.”

“Fuck,” JJ swore, falling on top of you a little. He only had one arm to support his weight, and he used all of his energy to quicken his pace. His cock slammed deeper and deeper until you felt his balls slap against your skin, and when he hit a particularly good spot you saw stars dance across your vision.

“I’m close,” you panted, bringing a hand down to rub your clit. JJ let out a series of curses at this, clearly frenzied by your self-pleasuring. Your finger played with your clit as he pushed into you, lips brushing yours in a lazy kiss as the euphoria began to take over.

Your second orgasm was building to the breaking point, and with one last stroke you were done for. A second round of fireworks went off inside of you, and your walls instinctively clenched around JJ’s cock. He let out a loud groan at this, clearly close to finishing as well. He thrust a few more times before finally pulling out, a spurt of white liquid flying out onto your stomach.

Senses blurred by pleasure, you reached out to grab his cock and work him down from his high. JJ’s moans echoed in your ears, his voice like a beautiful symphony you’d replay over and over. When you could finally breathe steadily again, you placed your hands above your head, just soaking in the euphoric after-effects of the orgasm.

JJ reached out onto the floor and grabbed his shirt, using it to clean up your skin. He smiled down at you, blue eyes sparkling with residual lust and something else. Love.

Collapsing beside you, JJ pulled the blankets up to cover your naked bodies, cocooning you in warmth and privacy. In this moment, you were the only two people on earth. When he looked at you, it was like nothing else in the universe existed. You shifted forward until your foreheads were pressed together, breathing in each other’s scent.

JJ’s fingers lazily brushed across your cheek, and you pursed your lips to kiss the tip of his nose. He smiled at this, throwing a hand over your waist to haul your body into his. Now you were pressed together in every way, chest to chest and heart to heart.

He studied your eyes, looking straight into your soul. “I love you,” he said again, almost like a reminder. As if you could ever forget he said those amazing words.

“I love you,” you answered, grinning softly. JJ chuckled, wrapping his arms tightly around you. He said it again, making you laugh. So you said it again, and again and again. You would never stop telling him you loved him, and neither would he.

He was yours and you were his; finally.

#outer banks #obx #pope outer banks #pope obx #john b #john b outer banks #john b obx #kiara outer banks #kiara obx #sarah outer banks #sarah obx #jj maybank #jj outer banks #jj obx #jj one shot #jj mayback x reader #jj smut #obx smut #outer banks smut

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aquvmarines · 4 years ago

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[ MASON GOODING, CIS MALE, HE/HIM ] shh ! CAMERON “MACK” MCKINLEY, the TWENTY year old SECOND year BUSINESS major from EDINBURGH, SCOTLAND, is known as an AQUAMARINE around here. HE was invited to join because HE IS BEST FRIENDS WITH HIS OPAL, and now, they’re here to stay. HE reminds me of THE SMELL OF FRESH BAKED COOKIES, WARM HUGS, LAUGHING UNTIL YOUR STOMACH HURTS.

ok so i THINK i have all of the necessary info in here and it’s STILL like.. way too long 🙄 can someone PLEASE tell this bitch (me) to shut up?? but in case you all want to read even MORE for some reason... here is my app!!

background

his dad comes from a long line of attorneys. his family owns a huge law firm and they’re old money! his mom was a caterer at an event when they met. they fell in love but his family never liked her because she was from a lower class and didn’t fit in.

being a housewife/being of a different class/already having deep-seated insecurity issues and a temper got to his mom. she convinced herself her husband was having affairs and started to pick really nasty fights. these fights scarred young mack and made him into the conflict averse people pleaser he is today!

his go-to method of diffusing tension and stopping fights is humor! king WILL make a joke in any situation to try and distract people from whatever they were arguing about. he does have other conflict resolution skills or whatever and will try and get people to compromise or like see the other side or something these just will not be his first reaction!

there was an instance where he realized he inherited his mother’s jealous streak. he’s ashamed of it and overcorrects so he doesn’t ruin anything by being possessive.

mckinley men go to strathmore 😤 and yes mack only got in because he’s a legacy and money has been donated to guarantee mckinley men go to strathmore! mack knows this and is kinda like eh whatever!

he’s majoring in business because if he was an attorney he would immediately roll over and concede whatever the opposing party wanted but there’s room for him in the financial department of mckinley & sons.

but he really has no interest in business or being a financial guy.. like he’ll do it because it’s what his family wants. his passion is in baking :D he would like to be a pastry chef with his own bakery, or a cooking show, he’d take either! but he thinks that would be a waste of his family’s resources :(

personality

for a long time, mack was the boy that got “...but he has a great personality.” which to be fair, he does. it’s easy to look at him and point to a number of admirable traits — kind, funny, patient — but he was a late bloomer looks wise and that left him a little bit scarred. much like his mother, the sinking suspicion that he’ll never be good enough haunts him. this isn’t something that’s easy to pick up on, as he presents himself with an air of easy confidence, but it’s there.

mack is a flirt. once he grew into his looks, he couldn’t help himself. mainly, he likes the banter that comes with flirting; the witty back and forth. both the ego boost he gets from feeling desired and the opportunity to make someone else feel just as good are big fun to him.

that being said, he’s not so easy and fun once things get any more serious than casual flirtation. worried about coming across as possessive, he overcorrects and often he turns something with potential into nothing. in general, he struggles with managing the difference between playing it cool and seeming indifferent, even if the reality is he’s very much invested and cares a lot.

he’s a very grounded presence. yes, he’s goofy and sometimes annoyingly positive, but i think his optimism would remind people not to take life too seriously, that problems aren’t as big and insurmountable as they might seem, and i think that bringing people back to the moment and encouraging them to stop stressing is grounding and reassuring.

like, yes, he’s an optimist, but he’s not a delusional optimist. he can pick out the good that exists in any situation and remind you of that, he doesn't bury his head in the sand and feed himself and others fantasies, you know? the bigger picture he paints is a bright one, but it’s not one that could never exist.

but i also don’t think it would be unreasonable for people to read him as delusional. especially someone more pessimistic or colder!

he is everyone’s cheerleader. he’s very supportive and always up to do things, so if there’s someone that needs a companion for anything, he’s definitely the person to turn to

i outlined how he fits in with all the aquamarine traits on my app if you want some more details for any reason KFLWJELFK

headcanons

he chooses to believe in the loch ness monster, please don’t talk about nessie like she’s not real in front of him.

going out first year was a blur of drunken one night stands, all to prove something that no one had asked him to prove; that he was attractive, that he could pull, that he wasn’t pathetic. the irony of course, being that his motivations were pathetic. somewhere along the way he grew out of it and slowed down; recognizing that no one was paying attention and it wasn’t making him feel any better, but he still has trouble resisting the ego high of a someone beautiful’s attention.

once lasted just under five minutes on a mechanical bull. to this day, it’s one of his proudest accomplishments.

in his spare time, he volunteers in the kitchen at a hospital. it’s cooking, not baking, but it does the trick.

during his first year, some of his friends discovered that they could all play different instruments, and naturally, that meant they had to form a band. mack was their frontman, not for any outstanding musical talent, but because no one else would do it! he has a nice enough voice, and could charm a crowd, but it’s not some previously unknown talent. he was just the one his friends knew they could ask.. they ultimately disbanded, citing “creative differences” to anyone who asked, but really, they just got bored of playing the very few songs that they all knew.

i have some wanted connections on my app but i’m really open to anything!! pls come hmu to plot i love all of you 🥺

#opalsintro #THE GIRLS ARE INTRO POSTINGGG 🤪

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alinaastarkov · 5 years ago

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What are Sansa's abilities and positive traits? I don't think she's as kind as the fandom likes to believe she is, but she is extremely (annoyingly) polite. Oddly enough, she has more genuine kindness towards people who don't deserve it (the Hound, for example). She could be charming. We see a flash of that in the Vale while she's posing as Alayne. She's smart like any other child that age. But other than that, I don't see any more positive traits. What do you think?

You know, I thought about this for a long time. I admit, I didn’t want to comb through the books for examples because I remember them pretty well, and something as big as personality traits should be memorable enough. I honestly think you’ve hit on all of them. Like you said she’s kind to the Hound and Jeyne Poole (to an extent), she has intelligence in the traditional sense and the Vale is drawing more out of her (she is aware she’s poisoning SR no I will not accept criticism), and she’s able to be courteous, for sure. Her attitude around Harry has been my favourite version of Sansa so far because she’s sassy in an inoffensive, fun way.

That honestly might be it. There’s nothing else that jumps out at me as positive, and I won’t list any of her coping mechanisms because 1. most of them are negative and 2. they are a reaction to trauma and should not be praised, they should be pitied.

If anyone else thinks of some, please please reblog this and list them I would love to hear what you guys think and if I’ve missed any.

#sansa stark #asoiaf #neve has mail

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emo--weebo-blog · 5 years ago

Text

Run Your Mouth

Subject: Keigo Takami x Reader

Summary: Keigo finally goes out on a date, but your voice behind his earpiece drives him crazy. You were just there to help him in case he’d say something stupid but really, he didn’t need it. But despite his charm, all he can think about is you. You, who’s stuck indirectly yelling into his ear.

Date: 5/13/20

Word Count: 1.6k

Keigo cringed at the loud static noise created by your breath. It was most likely because you were pressed too close to the mouth piece, but he tried ignoring it.

Still, he could practically feel your whispers tickling his ears, causing shivers to run down his spine. It was driving him insane, but he had more dire things to worry about.

He breathed out a long huff of air as he wiped his sweaty palms against his pants. It was a rather casual look, despite the pair of red wings that seemed to attract a lot of attention. He didn’t really care at the moment.

He was on a date.

No, it wasn’t his first date. He had been on plenty and he was quite the charmer. Surely, as one of the top hero’s of Japan, he had the girls chasing after him. He didn’t pursue any of them though. None of them were exactly like you anyway.

He tapped his fingers impatiently against the white clothed table of the fancy restaurant. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he had begun to feel his shirt stick to his sweaty skin. Maybe he shouldn’t have worn such tight clothes, despite how relentlessly you kept complimenting him before he had left. He knew he looked good, it just wasn’t his style.

He was confident in his looks, sure. Though, never had he felt so insecure when the familiar brunette haired girl had begun to approach the table.

His entire body tensed as his date had strolled closer and closer. Suddenly, your voice yelled fiercely into his ear, telling him to get up and push the chair out for her. made His entranced thoughts broke away at your voice as he finally snapped out of his conscience.

Keigo jumped out of his chair, a little bit too roughly as his chair wobbled a bit from how forceful his wings were. The brunette woman muffled a small laugh at his arguably cute, flustered smile. A true gentleman he was.

“Smooth”

He simply ignored your small teasing comment.

He pushed the chair out for her, throwing the woman a small smirk before he circled around the table back to his own.

Guess he wasn’t as rusty as he thought he was.

You spoke into his ear again, causing him to stiffen a bit. For a second, he had almost forgotten you were there to help. Yet, here you were, telling him exactly what to do and what to say.

He imagined you cuddling in your blankets while snacking on popcorn, listening in on his awkward date with this gorgeous brunette girl. He also imagined you a bit jealous, which was mostly just him being hopeful. Perhaps he still had a crush on you. Well, actually no - what was he thinking.

He didn’t have a crush on you.

Hell, he loved you. He knew he did.

“You are... really confident huh?” The brunette girl smiled playfully at Keigo. In response, he merely shrugged cockily. You had always said the same thing and he’d always reply with...

“Well, when you’re as amazing as I am, you can’t really help it.”

She laughed at his cocky response, not really buying into his annoyingly confident persona.

You didn’t either. You never did, to be honest. Maybe his confidence was a defense mechanism, but in any case, as you had gotten close to him through the years of knowing each other, you knew Keigo was just a big ol’ softy.

You just wished he was your softy.

“So why’d you ask me on a date anyway?”

Keigo wasn’t exactly sure how to respond to that. He never liked going on dates, but you suggested that he go out and experience the world a little bit more. You just wanted him to be happy, that’s all.

“You seemed like a nice person.”

He heard you sputter a small laugh into your mouth piece, which echoed back into his right ear. Maybe it was a mistake asking you for help. It wasn’t his fault he was so nervous and he wasn’t sure whether he could still interact well with a girl or not.

“Nice person? You could’ve come up with a better compliment than that right?”

“Wow, I’m flattered.”

He mentally smiled triumphantly. He could just imagine the defeat that shone through your eyes. You never liked losing anyway. Even when you guys were on some sort of patrol duty, you’d compete with him to see who would take down the most villains in a day. Whoever would lose would have to pay for their meal at the end of the day.

Unfortunately, Keigo had beaten you much more than you had him. It really wasn’t your fault though, you had amazing quirk! He just had the advantage of being fast while getting things done quickly. So in the end, you’d be stuck with most of the restaurant bills.

Although he had begun to feel a bit guilty, so he had let you win a few times. He would purposefully choose the side with the least villains, since he would catch sight of them while in the air, and let you take the side of the city where there were the most. You knew he was going easy on you as soon as you had won consecutively 4 times in a row.

Neither of you seemed to mind though, so you just let Keigo pay for the bills. He looked like he liked paying for your meals anyway. But really, he just liked seeing your excited grin every time you’d win.

“So what’re you orderin’?”

“I’m not sure, everything here seems so fancy and expensive,” she laughs a little bit, but still looks a bit guilty when the two of them make eye contact.

Keigo sucked in a breath. It was almost as if he was staring into an exact replica of yourself.

The memory of your guys’ first date flashed through his memory. It wasn’t a date per-say, but he liked to think it was. It was the first time he had been kissed on the cheek by a girl. He was only 17 years old after all.

He had learned a lot about you on that day. You didn’t like to eat at fancy restaurant because honestly, you were a cheapskate. You grew up to be one of the top hero’s as well and despite that, you were still rather cheap despite practically being a multi-millionaire.

“Hey, you wanna hit up some street food instead?” He suggested with a soft smile and a raised brow.

He watched a large grin broke out on the brunette’s face.

She immediately nodded and without missing a beat, he called the waiter over. The owner was quite flustered as his sudden leave. After all, for a top hero to dine at a restaurant would create amazing publicity and popularity. So it was disappointing to see him rushing out of the restaurant.

Your voice made him fall from his steps as soon as he had reached the front door.

“At least give them a tip or something! You’re gonna ruin their business if you leave now.”

Your voice was strict and a little bit irritated. Perhaps there was a hint of jealousy behind your words.

Shaking his head, he looked at the brunette who stood halfway out the door, tilting her head at her date’s sudden stillness.

He grinned and held a single finger up, “just one second okay?”

Rushing toward the front desk of the restaurant, he fumbled through his coat pocket. With his fingers trembling a bit from excitement, he finally slipped 35,000 yen (about 300 dollars) onto the desk. The cashier looked a bit flustered seeing the hero in full view, instead bowing with incredible gratefulness and thanking him over and over again.

“It’s nothing really. I’m sorry for leaving, but I’ll speak publicly and give you a good review. I promise!”

Without waiting for any type of response, he was already outside, letting the cold weather face hit his skin and feathers. Before he knew it, warm fingers slipped into his hands, sending tingles up his arm.

“Back so soon Hero-san?” The brunette joked, her cheeks tinted red from the cold.

He giggled a bit, gripping her hand tighter, “sorry if I kept you waiting.”

She shook her head. “It’s no problem when its you I’m waiting for.”

He bit the inside of his lip, looking away with a light hue of pink covering his cheeks. Almost everything she said corresponded to individual memories he had with you. It wasn’t just her though. Anything anybody said made him think of you.

Even being in his own home made him constantly think about you, dream of you, scroll through pictures he had with you. He couldn’t seem to forget you. But it wasn’t as if he wanted to forget either. How could he do that to you when he had loved you so much?

A voice made him snap out of his entrance.

“Keigo, wow look!”

“Keigo look...” he felt the brunette squeeze his hand.

With a halfhearted hum he lifted his head, letting the sky envelop his vision. Before he could process anything, a small fluff of white fell in between his eyes.

He heard your laugh ring through his ears.

“It’s snowing,” her breathless voice admired.

The dots of white littered across the sky, once again reminded him of you. He grimaced as he felt something tug on the inside of his chest. It was just this time last year that you... you-

“Keigo... I’m okay”

His eyes widened. With shaky eyes, he used his spare hand to brush over his ear but he felt nothing. Nothing at all. You were speaking into his ear the whole time, so where the hell was his ear piece?

He remembered asking you. He remembered asking if you’d talk to him behind the earpiece he had bought, just in case he couldn’t think of anything to say.

He asked you to be his wing-man.

“Hey, Keigo, are you okay?” The hero looked at the worried gaze of his brunette date. There was small pocket of silence as he stared aimlessly into the eyes of the girl.

With a brief hesitation in his voice, he tightened his grip around her cozy hand.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He replied with a small smile.

That’s when it hit him.

Had he imagined your voice the entire time?

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