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glassheartjukebox · 3 years

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the art of obliviousness

feat. ushijima

a/n: aoba johsai, specifically makki, being a good friend! makes! my! heart! go! ba boom! reblogs are always appreciated. find the rest of the soulmate au special here

2k words

6 fucking tallies. the marks on your arm mocked you, letting you know the opportunity to meet your twin flame slipped through your fingers like sand over and over and over again.

III

excitement overwhelmed your body when you stripped down after a long day and noticed the first three marks on your forearm. most people didn’t meet their soulmate on the first pass (or in your case, three passes in one day), but this meant he was definitely in miyagi.

to makki:my tallies showed up !!!

to makki: [image attachment]

From makki: aye thats great

from makki: watch it be the obnoxious johzenji guy who wouldnt take a hint

to makki: why would you wish that on me

to makki: best friend card = revoked

from makki: be still my beating heart.

from makki: you’ve wounded me

you giggled lightly, reminiscing on the events of the day

the volleyball tournament was brutal. aoba johsai lost their chance to go to nationals. your throat was raw from screaming and cheering for them. nonetheless, you were proud of your boys. oikawa put in his all, iwaizumi was blossoming into a great future ace, and makki and mattsun’s blocks were immaculate. you were sure by the next tournament they could destroy shiratorizawa.

transferring to aoba johsai in your second year and meeting makki changed your life for the better. he’d roped you into managing their rowdy team. you had to admit, the other volleyball teams were… intimidating. the tall guys from the other teams towered over almost everyone and walked around with stern looks on their faces. even worse were the guys that hit on you despite your obvious manager uniform (iwaizumi helped you to fend them off). the most physically imposing team by far was shiratorizawa. their stony faced ace and crackhead-esque middle blocker were jarring to say the least. but at least they were professional and polite to you. (expressing the sentiment earned you the privilege of dealing with a pouty oikawa).

your first tournament was a whirlwind. you had barely registered anything other than encouraging your boys. it was all so intense. checking your arm for tally marks wasn’t exactly your priority, especially with your tracksuit jacket on. consequently, you weren’t too discouraged by the three marks glaring back at you from your arms. you would find him eventually

IIII

the first tournament of your third year had commenced and the pressure was on. oikawa’s intensity was enough to make you want to tear your hair out. he was now not only determined to beat his long time rival ushijima, but some random underclassman setter from karasuno. nonetheless, makki had your back and reminded you to occasionally check your arms for tally marks in case your soulmate was once again in attendance. thus far, the stubborn three marks glared back on you. soon enough, your manager duties consumed you. you held iwaizumi back from killing oikawa in front of his beloved fan club. as soon as oikawa and yahaba eyed kiyoko, karasuno’s manager, you grabbed the back of their jerseys.

“don’t even fucking think about it,” you gave them both a stern look.

“but why-” oikawa started to whine and you cut him off. “think about how angry you get when someone bothers me. give her the same respect.”

both boys sulked off, dejected. iwaizumi clapped you on the shoulder and gave you an appreciative smile.

the match between karasuno and aoba johsai was absolutely brutal. the neck and neck competition had you sweating from the sidelines, watching the teams barely hold their composure. when the short redhead’s spike got blocked and aoba johsai got the winning point, your body moved on its own. you ran straight over the boys, hugging them as tightly as you could.

a shiver ran through your body and your hairs stood on end. it felt like someone was watching you. glancing over your shoulder, you caught a glimpse of someone in a purple tracksuit leaving the stands. you shook your head at your paranoia. of course you were being watched, you were standing on the court with the winning team.

after the match, the team was eating and taking bathroom breaks. during a rare moment of solitude between you and makki, you leaned over and whispered, “do you really think he's here?”

He looked back at you and rolled his eyes, “only one way to tell,” gesturing to your right arm. letting out a deep breath, you slipped off your jacket. the tallies had climbed from three to four. makki grinned at you.

“have i mentioned how much i hate this soulmate system?” you huffed. makki simply ruffled your hair.

IIIII

somehow, the aftermath of the match was even more hectic than the match itself. you had so much paperwork to sort out, so many water bottles to fill, and a large group of boys who you had to babysit. that’s how you found yourself briskly walking through the halls of the stadium, praying no one would bother you. the seven full water bottles and stack of paper teetering in your arms were incredibly heavy. if someone came over to make idle chat with you, you decided you would bark at them. your patience was fraying from your own anxiety over the coming matches. of course, there was a wall of purple jacket adorned jocks crowded around right where you needed to walk.

your annoyance completely masked your judgement and you walked right through them, muttering very blunt “excuse me’s” the whole way through. You finally emerged from the large group of guys when your brushed shoulders with someone, effectively causing you to drop everything in your arms.

“fuck,” you muttered, dropping to your knees and trying desperately to pick up all the papers and bottles littered around your feet.

a large figure appeared next to you on the floor.

“im sorry, that was my fault,” a deep voice rumbled from next to you, causing you to jolt. a calloused hand brushed over your own, handing you a messily gathered stack of papers. you looked up and made eye contact with shiratorizawa’s illustrious captain. You were overcome with embarrassment.

“thank you,” you said quietly before quickly making your escape. upon returning to your team, oikawa immediately noticed how flustered you were.

‘oh manger-chan, what got blushing?” your patience was entirely gone, as you shoved the papers into oikawa’s hands and put down the water bottles.

“im going to the bathroom” you growled, glaring at oikawa. as you stomped away, you heard iwaizumi smack the back of oikawa’s head and scold him.

you splashed your face with cold water, overwhelmed. the pressure of manager duties mixed with your lack of professionalism in your interaction with ushijima had you feeling inadequate. your desperation about finding your soulmate clouded your judegment. you knew full well this might be your last chance to find him for a long time. if he was a third year, he likely would not be at the spring tournament. composing yourself, you stood straight and pieced together your put together facade. outside of the bathroom, makki was waiting you.

“spill. what happened.” a looked at you with masked concern. you explained the past ten minutes to him and expressed your worries.

“the team appreciates you, you know. i dont know what they would do without you. and if you dont meet him today, fate will bring you together. likely sooner rather than later.” makki said as he pulled you into a hug.

“really? sooner rather than later? what is that supposed to mean?” you snorted. makki only responded with another pointed look at your arm.

“are you fucking kidding me? i missed him again?” you grumbled.

“dont worry your pretty little head about it,” makki gave you a knowing smirk. what the hell was that supposed to mean?

IIIIII

6 fucking tallies. the marks on your arm mocked you, letting you know the opportunity to meet your twin flame slipped through your fingers like sand over and over and over again. your frustration had built and you found yourself crying with the rest of them after their loss to shiratorizawa. the third years vowed to stay for the spring inter high tournament, and you let out a sigh of relief. you had one more tournament with your boys. fuck a romantic soulmate. you had your platonic ones right here.

you all slowly exited the gym and you once again retreated to the bathroom, freshening up and removing your jacket. you were far too sweaty from anxiety and hugging the boys.

you looked down at the six tallies, resigned. it was whatever. shit happens.

you were met with both makki and mattsun whispering when you exited. you raised your brow, suspicious of the plotting best friends.

“y/n! come on, we’re going for a walk before we have to get on the bus,” makki softly smiled, clearly exhausted.

“i’ll hold your jacket,” matsukawa piped up, taking it from your arms. you three walked through the halls, idly chatting to distract yourselves from the somber feeling in your chests. rounding the corner, you stiffened. at the start of the secluded hallway stood shiratorizawa. the two boys on either side of you were strangly calm, as if they knew this would happen

“let’s take another route,” you suggested, wanting to save them from the exasperation of passing the winning team.

“it’s fine y/n,” makki smiled at you, gripping your arm. as you passed shiratorizawa, his grip became damn near painful.

“ow makki what the fuck-“ you started looking down to rub at the now sore skin on your arm. you froze. IIIIIII. it stared back at you, mocking you. you turned around and walked by the group of boys again, staring at your arm. another tally appeared.

IIIIIIII

you glanced between your arm and the boys, clearly panicked. makki and mattsun watched from a distance, slightly amused by your reaction. however, their eyes were not the only one on you. the “guess monster” had quickly figured out why you were pacing by them, staring intently at your arm. he counted eight marks. he subtly glanced at his teammates forearms, earning some confused looks. wakatoshi, ever clueless, had completely missed the marks building up on his arm.

tendou grabbed him and rubbed at his forearm.

“tendou, what do you need,” his voice tapered off as he noticed the marks. with tendou’s obvious looks between him and the pretty girl standing on the other side of the hallway, he quickly realized what was happening.

internally you were freaking out. how the fuck were you supposed to know which one of the 10+ boys standing in front you were your soulmate? should you just walk up and ask?

you were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t notice the tall man approach you until he was looming over you.

“may i see your arm?” for the second time today, ushijima startled you. without thinking you held it out. his strong hands grazed tallies on your arm. to your surprise he leaned down and placed a kiss on the marks adorning your skin and glanced back at you with a soft look in his eyes.

“hello, i’m ushijima. i never caught your name.”

“it’s y/n,” you breathed out, relieved. then it hit you.

“oikawa is going to kill me!” you squealed. ushijima looked back at you quizzically, “why does it matter so much?”

“you two are rivals,” the exasperation was clear in your voice. ushijima just responded by knitting his eyebrows together, clearly not understanding why this had you distraught. “you don’t have to deal with him pouting and being a brat over this, i do,” you said with wide eyes. ushijima just chuckled at you. he took out his phone and handed it to you, “put your number in, i want to see my soulmate again soon,” he paused, then added, “you could come to our celebratory dinner with us.”

you looked at him incredulously, then gestured to your uniform. he simply squeezed your hand and pulled you into a surprisingly firm hug. leaning down so his lips were level with your ear, he whispered, “oikawa is going to have to cope with this. i don’t want to lose you. what are you doing tonight?”

“after i spend time with my team? nothing as far as i know,” you answered honestly.

“meet me at the park, i want to get to know you,” he stated bluntly. ushijima was full of rough edges and unending honesty. for the third time today, he had you flushing. you were sure it wouldn’t be the last.

©glassheartjukebox all written content belongs to this user. do not repost, modify, or copy content

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sepulchritude · 4 years

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Nobody really talks about the daily struggles of being nonbinary like (obligatory disclaimer that no one has to present androgynously and androgyny isn’t a prereq for being nonbinary blah blah anyway) what does gender neutral shampoo smell like? And deodorant? How about cologne/perfume?

What does gender neutral formalwear look like? What about swimsuits? Shoes?? Show me a gender neutral shoe that doesn’t look like something a grandparent would wear.

Does my room look like it belongs to a boy? Does my car look like it belongs to a girl? Is my backpack too masc? Is my laugh too high pitched? Is my music taste too girly? Too masculine? What about my haircut, will I ever find a suitably ambiguous haircut that I like?

What prefix should come before my name if not Mr or Ms? What should someone call me instead of sir or ma’am?

And obviously none of these are insurmountable. You just have to find the solutions that make you the most comfortable. But even if I decide “that’s not worth worrying about,” these are still questions I have to ask and thoughts I have to have and it’s exhausting

Edit: reblog privileges revoked because terfs are being annoying in my activity feed over a post I made years ago when I was insecure in my gender. Go be annoying elsewhere

#gender fuckery #sepulchritudinous #1k

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oikawaplssteponme · 3 years

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DRIVE

pairing: Hajime Iwaizumi x fem! reader

ratings/warnings: swearing, vandalism/graffiti, a little suggestive, Iwaizumi calls you ‘babe’ , law enforcement present

genre: Skater! AU, fluff, action (?)

word count: 2,087 words

synopsis: In an attempt to frame your rival school, you, your boyfriend, and his friends, end up coming face to face with some unwanted guests. A little quick thinking and some fast skateboards should hopefully do the trick...that and a stolen car.

a/n: i got this idea and i just went with it hehe. i had a lot of fun writing it so i hope you all enjoy. no thoughts just seijoh four ;) reblogs are greatly appreciated! <3

•

“I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD Y/N TURN THIS FUCKING CAR AROUND-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

six hours earlier

“What do you guys want for dinner?”

“You-”

“Hajime…”

“Get a room you two.”

You sighed and crossed your arms. You looked at your boyfriend sitting on the couch with a cheeky smile on his face.

“Let’s get udon. That sounds so good,” suggested Makki.

“I had udon yesterday,” explained Oikawa, “I don’t want that again.”

“That’s not my problem. Y/N, I’ll order,” said Makki. You nodded.

“Udon sounds good to me.”

You moved to sit back down next to Iwaizumi and he instantly wrapped his arm around you. You moved to rest your legs on his lap.

“I thought we said we were going out tonight,” huffed Mattsun. You chuckled.

“Don’t worry we are. We can’t go out on an empty stomach though.”

“Did you get the spray paint Oikawa?” asked Iwa. Oikawa perked up.

“Uh I thought you were getting it…”

The rest of you groaned.

“No you were supposed to get it idiot!” sighed Hajime. You gave Iwa a nudge.

“It’s fine, we’ll just get it before we go,” you insisted.

“Oikawa, your udon privileges have been revoked for this,” said Makki.

“I DIDN’T EVEN WANT UDON-“

“Well you certainly aren’t getting now. The rest of us will split your bowl.”

“HOW IS THAT FAIR-”

“Makki when will it be here?” You asked.

“About twenty minutes.”

“Okay so after the food gets here and we eat, we’ll head over to that supply store and grab the paint. How does that sound?” You explained. The boys nodded. Iwaizumi placed his hand under your chin, having you look at him.

“Sounds perfect babe.”

Iwaizumi placed a subtle kiss onto your lips, keeping a smirk on his face.

“Like I said, get a room.”

All your dinners arrived right on time and you all devoured them. You ended up giving Oikawa his bowl, though you did steal a noodle here and there.

The five of you threw away all your trash before packing up your things. You left the basement and went outside, each of you grabbing your skateboards.

“Ready to go?” You asked. The boys nodded.

“Last one at the store is paying for the paint-” laughed Mattsun before hopping on his board and skating away as fast as possible.

“Shit-”

The rest of you followed, pushing with all your might to not be last. The supply store was only a few minutes away, prompting your little race. You stood in second place behind Mattsun, followed by Iwaizumi, Oikawa, and Makki.

“Sorry babe-” Iwaizumi rode past you, leaving you next to Oikawa.

“Damn it.”

You lowered your stance on your board, hoping to pick up some extra speed that you desperately craved. You were tied with Makki and Oikawa, each of you inching for the lead.

“I won’t hesitate to push you right off your boards,” you laughed. Oikawa smirked.

“Yeah right-”

“No way I’m paying-”

You continued to push on the ground, gaining distance between the boys and catching up to Hajime and Issei. The wind blew in your face, awakening all your senses. You could see the store approaching, giving you an adrenaline rush.

You caught up to Mattsun and Iwa.

“Fancy seeing you guys here,” you smirked.

“You haven’t won yet Y/N-” said Mattsun. He was first at the store, followed by Ayou, then Iwaizumi, Makki and Oikawa. He lost by just a second.

“I guess it all worked out, since you were supposed to buy the paint anyway,” you joked as you caught your breath. Oikawa huffed.

“Whatever. Wait here.” Toru kicked up his board, adjusted the beanie on his head and went inside. Iwaizumi moved to stand behind you, slinging his arms around your waist.

“You’re sure we aren’t gonna get caught?” he asked. You sighed.

“Have a little faith in me babe. My plan is full proof.”

“And if we do get caught, we can blame you,” smiled Makki. You hit his arm.

“We aren’t gonna get caught. I’m smarter than that.”

“Got it!” You looked up to see Oikawa holding up the bag of goods.

“Four cans of purple, white, black, and grey spray paint.”

You smirked.

“Perfect.”

The five of you hopped back onto your boards and rode until you reached Aoba Johsai High School. You quietly and carefully made your way to the gym.

“Never thought I would be back here…” sighed Mattsun.

“Hopefully this is the last time we are back here,” you whispered. It had been a few weeks since graduation. Never did you think you’d be back to spray paint your own former high school.

Oikawa pulled out the cans of paint, setting them each on the ground.

“Ladies first,” he smiled. You picked up the purple paint, took the cap off and began to draw a large circle on the gym doors.

“That's an oval,” teased Makki. You groaned.

“You idiots can do it then.”

You filled in the circle with the purple paint before turning it over to Oikawa, Makki, and Mattsun. They began to draw an outline of an eagle and the letters spelling out ‘Shiratorizawa’.

“God what I would do to see the look on their faces when they see this,” said Iwaizumi. You chuckled.

“Told you my plan was full proof.”

“PAINT THE WALL NOT ME DAMN IT-”

“Oikawa shut up-”

“Makki shut up-”

“Now you listen here-”

As the boys continued to whisper-yell at each other, Iwaizumi took your hand and began to lead you around the corner of the gym.

“Iwa-”

“Don’t worry, they can handle being alone for a bit,” he smirked. Iwa had you leaned up against the side of the building, his arm just above your head looking down at you. The way he stared at you made your heart pound.

“You know you’re really cute when you’re determined,” he said.

“I know what I want,” you whispered. Iwaizumi bent his head down, touching his nose against yours. Your breath grew heavier and hotter as it mixed with his.

“I know what I want too.”

Iwaizumi didn’t waste another second to crash his lips against yours. There was something about the way that Iwaizumi kissed you that made your knees go weak. You pulled him closer to you, grabbing the collar of his shirt. Iwaizumi’s hands rested comfortably on your hips before slowly moving them onto your ass. The clashing of teeth and tongue was intoxicating. You could barely get enough.

“U-Uh guys…”

You ignored the voice, keeping your focus on your boyfriend's lips.

“GUYS!”

Iwaizumi pulled away from the kiss, annoyed.

“WHAT?”

“W-We’ve got company…”

You and Iwaizumi looked at each other, feeling your hearts drop to the floor. You slowly walked back to the gym doors. Makki, Oikawa, and Mattsun were frozen in their spots. They had the hoods of their sweatshirts on and their beanies lowered. You and Iwaizumi soon heard two pairs of footsteps walking towards you.

“Alright kids, just stay where you are,” said one of the police officers. You looked around to your friends. You bent down and picked up your skateboards.

“Hey now you listen to me, it’s gonna be easier for the both of us if you just do what we say. So drop the skateboards.”

You were shaking in your shoes, trying to figure a way out. You could see the two police cars in the background, parked in the school lot. The lights were still on and it looked like one of the officers had forgotten to shut their door. You soon were struck with an insane idea.

“Put your hands up. You’re trespassing on school property, not to mention the vandalism you just did,” said the second cop. You set your skateboard back down, your friends looking at you as if you were crazy.

“Y/N what the fuck are you doing-“

“HEY NO TALKING!”

You placed your skateboard on the ground, slowly putting your foot on top.

“Police. Car.”

“What-”

“Police car. Now!”

You jumped onto your board, skating past the officers even before they had a clue what you were doing. Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Makki, and Mattsun followed you to the car.

“HEY GET BACK HERE!”

The officers chased after you, but weren’t fast enough. You made it to the car, your whole body shaking and your mind going a mile a minute.

“GET IN!” you shouted.

You hopped into the driver's seat of the car with the open door, keys still in the ignition.

“Idiots,” you mumbled to yourself. Iwaizumi got in the front seat with you as the rest piled in the back.

“FUCKING DRIVE Y/N!” order Oikawa. You removed the parking brake before stepping on the gas. You could hear the yelling of the officers behind you, but they soon faded as you speed away.

“I know you did not just steal a police car!” shouted Iwaizumi.

“Well would you rather be riding in the back of one with cuffs!?” You groaned. Your hands were shaky on the wheel, palms covered in nervous sweat. You didn’t even bother to check the speed you were going, running through every red light you came across.

“We’re fucked,” cried Makki.

“Y/N take us back to the damn school,” ordered Iwa. You looked at him with widened eyes.

“Are you crazy? Hell no!”

“If we turn ourselves we won’t get into as much trouble-”

“Keep driving Y/N, I’m not getting arrested!” butted in Mattsun. You looked in your rear-view mirror, only to see the second police car after you.

“FUCKING HELL-” You stepped on the gas even more, reaching close to 80 miles per hour.

“WE’VE GOTTA LOSE THEM!” shouted Oikawa.

“DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT! SORRY THAT THIS IS MY FIRST CAR CHASE DAMN IT!”

You made a wide turn onto a backroad, flipping the switch of lights on top of the car off. The second car still trailed behind.

“I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD Y/N TURN THIS FUCKING CAR AROUND-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

Your adrenaline continued to rush as you drove. You searched and scanned your surrounds for any way out, or somewhere to hide.

“Y/N turn there!” Makki pointed to a fork in the road that lead to the woods. You jerked the steering wheel to the left, driving right into the woods entrance. You parked the car and turned off the engine.

“Everyone quiet!” You ordered. You looked behind you, waiting to see the other car. You watched as it drove past, entering the left side of the fork. You all let out a sigh of relief.

“You’re fucking crazy Y/N…” panted Iwaizumi. You chuckled.

“Well obviously.”

The five of you skated your way back to Oikawa’s basement, leaving the car where it was. Once you arrived, you all crashed onto the floor.

“I can’t believe that happened…” huffed Mattsun.

“I can’t believe we didn’t get caught…” you said.

“We did get caught dumbass! We almost died!” remarked Oikawa. You playfully hit his arm.

“We didn’t get caught. Just...interrupted.”

“Iwaizumi your girlfriend is insane,” sighed Makki. Iwaizumi chuckled.

“Hell yeah she is.” Iwaizumi pulled you towards him, having you rest your head on his arm.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he whispered. You smiled.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry I yelled at you too.” You moved your hand to run through his hair.

“How about next time though, we do some legal for our activity of the night?” he suggested. You chuckled.

“Admit it, that was pretty fun.”

“Yup, you’re insane.”

“Wait, did you finish the painting?” You sat up and looked at the three boys. They looked at each other, smiling.

“Don’t worry, we finished it.”

The following morning you all found yourselves seated in Oikawa’s basement. You were curled up on the couch next to Iwaizumi. Your phone buzzed.

“Who is it?” he asked. You raised a brow.

“A call from Kindaichi.” You answered the call, placing him on speaker.

“What’s up first year?”

“DID YOU HEAR? SOMEONE VANDALIZED THE GYM!”

The five at you looked at each other.

“No way… do you know who?”

“Those jerks from Shiratorizawa! They left graffiti and everything! They even stole a police car and it was found this morning. Apparently the police are on their way to Shiratorizawa right now.”

You tried your best not to laugh, keeping your cool on the phone. Iwaizumi kissed your cheek, before high-fiving his friends. You turned back to the phone call.

“That’s crazy…”

•

[general taglist (form in masterlist) : @lealofsblog @iwaisa @bakugousmymassa @evivn1 @tetsoleil @bokutory @vangoghmusings @moonlightaangel @misszenin @marajillana @sopesmin @alaina-rose13 @shotoful ]

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artblogofanekophile · 2 years

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I posted 3,592 times in 2021

274 posts created (8%)

3318 posts reblogged (92%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 12.1 posts.

I added 358 tags in 2021

#twisted wonderland - 95 posts

#twst - 57 posts

#not my art - 34 posts

#idia shroud - 32 posts

#floyd leech - 28 posts

#lilia vanrouge - 26 posts

#malleus draconia - 24 posts

#jack howl - 21 posts

#ace trappola - 21 posts

#obey me - 20 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#lately it feels like a character has to always be morally upstanding and they can't have negative qualities or else they're a bad person an

My Top Posts in 2021

The Devildom skies are always dark, only a slight change in colouration indicating the time. In the Demon Lord's Castle, however, the time of day was indicated by the servants and the tasks they were performing, their voices soft murmurs in the morning.

Diavolo didn't need to be woken up, however, as millennia of early rising conditioned his body to wake up at certain times. Today, he just couldn't bring himself to get up, his beloved human curled up against him, chest rising softly in sleep.

You probably should be awakened before anyone barged in, though, he thought.

Soft lips pressed gently against you neck, kissing a trail up to your mouth. He smiled against you as you stirred.

"Good morning, my princess. It's time to rise," he murmured in a low voice, holding you close against him.

P-PARAGRAPH ANON!?

Uwaaa, this is so sweet and tender and I've been shot through the heart asdfghjkl

THANK YOU FOR YOUR REPEATED ATTACKS AGAINST MY PERSON.

But... well, it can't be too much of a sin to ask Lord Diavolo for just five more minutes, right...?

72 notes • Posted 2021-07-10 20:14:08 GMT

His warmth radiates through his kigurumi as he holds you. Diavolo's lap is comfortable, his arms wrapped around you. One of his hands reaches for the plate of fruit, picking up the Devildom equivalent of a strawberry and bringing it to your lips.

He is gentle as he feeds it to you. You can feel his laugh more than you hear it, rumbling in his chest as he looks at you.

"Oh dear, you got some on your lips. Let me get that for you."

He lowers his mouth to yours, his tongue darting out to taste the juices left on your lips.

"Mm... delicious."

Your unspoken question is answered when Diavolo leans in a second time and kisses you properly, a gleam visible in his eyes that wasn't there before when he pulls back.

"You'll allow me to have another taste, won't you?"

PARAGRAPH ANONNNNNNN--

You're going to kill this poor cat, don't you know!?

The audacity of you to use my favourite fruit, too... You really are lethal, aren't you?

That being said, I can't deny that this snippet filled me with warm fuzzies... and then terror. Just what do you intend to to, Lord Diavolo!?

"The kigurumis stay on, human..."

74 notes • Posted 2021-06-23 21:56:02 GMT

Crowley: Are you lost, baby girl?

MC: Yes, actually. I am very much lost--I woke up in a coffin??? With a raccoon???

76 notes • Posted 2021-02-11 19:52:42 GMT

Show me the real Kojiro.

I said the real Kojiro.

See the full post

80 notes • Posted 2021-09-17 19:53:54 GMT

Someone needs to revoke my internet privilege.

111 notes • Posted 2021-01-15 22:54:29 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

AsjJKFSAJLKGLK I LOVE THAT MY MOST POPULAR POST IS ABOUT MALLEUS HAVING A FUCKING PIANO IN HIS BATHROOM HELP-- And then the rest is just me being bullied by paragraph anon and being thirsty.

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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lightsupinthenorth · 4 years

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Harringrove teachers AU part 3

Part 1 - Part 2

Thank you to everyone who read, liked and/or reblogged the previous parts. Also, the people who said something nice in the tags or in reactions own my heart. Just thought you should know ;) <3

Tag list: @twoprettyboys, @inkedplume, @marianaosborne, @liglitterbug, @hmg621 @spreckle @goldenweatherharringrove @yikesharringrove @yogurtfordinner @wingedbears @charlotte-frey @hargrovesharrington

If anyone wants to be added to or taken off the tag list for the future posts of this AU, let me know ;)

I hope the tags are working because I recently had some trouble with them (ah, Tumblr is a mess).

I was planning on keeping the chapters short but every part has been longer than the last so far ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (then again, it’s still pretty short so I guess it’s fine ^^).

I’ll stop rambling now.

Billy didn’t know how he had ended up in this situation, this situation being Steve and he making out in the otherwise empty teachers’ lounge, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. He wanted to keep Steve’s soft lips on his forever. Sadly, he didn’t get his way: there was a loud bang, and suddenly Steve’s lips were gone. Steve was gone too, as well as the teachers’ lounge. Billy woke up at home, in his bed, hard as a rock in the basket-ball shorts he was wearing as pajamas.

Great, he got an erection just from dreaming he and Steve were kissing. What was he? A teenager? That was pathetic.

Billy was considering rubbing one out, despite the embarrassment, but there was another loud bang that made him remember why he had woken up in the first place.

What the fuck was happening this early on a Saturday?

Billy instantly worried Max had fallen or, worse, that someone had broken into the flat and would hurt her (highly improbable in such a small town, but Billy wasn’t alert enough to be logical). The concern killed his arousal in two seconds tops. He shot up from bed and exited his bedroom in a hurry.

He found Max in their open kitchen, mixing what appeared to be pancakes ingredients.

“What was that noise?” He asked, in lieu of a greeting.

“I dropped the pan. Sorry.”

“There were two noises.”

“I dropped the mixing bowl too. Let me live! It’s your fault, you stored both these things on the highest shelf” Max complained.

“Hey, no need for a defense, I’m not accusing you. I was just worried, shitbird.”

“Oh… well, I’m okay.”

“And you’re making pancakes, so I’m certainly not going to complain.” Billy added.

“Who told you I was making some for you?”

Billy pouted, even though he knew Max was bluffing. He could see the amount of batter in the mixing bowl. She had quite an appetite, but there was no way she’d be able to eat all of that on her own.

“So mean, so early in the morning.”

“What can I say, I love messing with you.”

Paradoxically, Billy was happy that she did. When they had first met, he’d been a perpetually angry teenager, and teeny tiny Max had done everything she could to stay out of his way. Once Susan had announced she was ill, though, Billy had tried his hardest to be the brother Max deserved. After Susan’s death, Billy had looked after Max and kept her safe from his father until he had turned legal. He had then fought to get Max away from Neil and had obtained full custody of her.

It had been hard to balance getting his degree, working part-time jobs, and taking care of Max. Even more so with Neil trying to steer trouble every now and again. But they had made it out alright, in the hand, and Billy didn’t regret a second of it.

“Sit your ass down.” Max said as she turned the stove on.

“Oh no, no way. You ‘sit your ass down’. I’ll take it from here.”

Max was good at finding the best recipes and at mixing ingredients, but the cooking process was another thing entirely: she had nearly burned the kitchen down almost every time she had tried using the oven or the stove. Her cooking privileges had been revoked after the fifth time.

“Ugh, fine.”

Billy had two plates full on pancakes in no time. He put one in front of Max and went to sit down with his own on the other side of the table. The second his ass touched his chair, Max asked:

“So, you have plans with Steve and Robin this afternoon?”

Billy frowned.

“First of all, it’s Mrs. Buckley and Mr. Harrington for you”, he started, just to get on her nerves (he didn’t give a fuck how she called her teachers), “and second, how do you know that?”

Max arched an eyebrow.

“You literally talked about it with Steve right in front of me yesterday”, she said, ignoring Billy’s reprimand (no surprise, there).

“Oh… right… I did.”

Truthfully, Billy had stopped paying attention to Max and El the second he had laid eyes on Steve and the dumb spot of blue paint that had been resting on his cheek as if it had any right to.

“So, what are you guys going to do?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but we’re going to grade papers.”

“Well, that’s exciting.”

Her sarcasm was off the charts.

“Tell me about it”, Billy mumbled, around a mouthful of pancake.

“Ew, gross.”

Billy stuffed even more pancake into his mouth, in defiance, before he spoke again:

“So, Art club, uh? What’s up with that?”

They hadn’t had an opportunity to talk about it the day before, because Friday night was movie night, and they had eaten dinner in front of the tv. Plus, Billy would have been too distracted to hold a conversation (Steve hadn’t left his mind).

“Steve said I should come. He noticed I haven’t been speaking to a lot of people, and he said it might help to do an activity in a smaller group…” Max wasn’t looking at Billy as she explained.

“Anyway, I think he was right. He’s the best!” She beamed as she said it, finally looking up from her slowly but surely diminishing pile of pancakes.

“That’s good. I’m glad.”

Billy was glad, really. He was also a bit frustrated that Steve had managed to talk to Max about making friends, when Billy hadn’t known how to bring it up without offending her, but he wasn’t petty enough to show he had a problem with it. Even if Max calling Steve “the best” was treason of the highest order, Billy just wanted her to be happy. If Steve’s intervention helped more than Billy himself could, then so be it.

They finished breakfast, got ready for the day and then went grocery shopping. As they got back to the flat, Max went to her room to chill, and Billy read for a while before he started preparing lunch. Keeping busy distracted him from thinking about seeing Steve in the afternoon. Well, he didn’t think about it too much, at least.

When Billy made his way into the coffee shop, Steve and Robin were already seated, talking animatedly… in another language.

“Hi. Was that Italian?”

They must not have noticed him approaching, because as soon as he greeted them, they stopped talking, and Steve looked up at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Hey Billy”, Robin said, “as a matter of fact, it was.”

“Don’t you teach French and Spanish?”

Billy was perplexed.

“I do. Doesn’t mean I don’t speak Italian.”

“It figures”, Billy shrugged.

He wanted to ask Steve where he had learnt Italian, because it intrigued him. However, he chose not to. He didn’t want to talk to him unless it was necessary. It’d be better for everyone if they had the bare minimum of interactions together, surely.

“Are these new piercings?” Robin asked, gesturing toward his ears.

“Uh, no. I’ve had them for a long time. I just don’t wear them at school.”

“Well, you should. They look really cool, and I’m sure no one would have anything to say about it.”

Billy stared at Steve pointedly, but Steve looked away as soon as he caught his gaze.

“I’ll think about it.” Billy finally said.

Steve and Robin already had their orders, so Billy took his wallet from his bag and went to the counter. He glanced at the display case and eyed the cherry pie with envy, but decided against it. After this morning’s pancakes, it wouldn’t be reasonable. Plus, he hadn’t hit the gym in a few days. He had to start indulging less if he wanted to stay in shape. He went for a simple black coffee. As the burly man behind the counter, whom Billy guessed to be Benny, asked him if he wanted anything else, Billy nearly surrendered, but he powered through. He handed Benny a ten-dollar bill and put the change he was given in one of his pockets.

When Billy went back to their table with his cup of coffee, Steve was blowing on his cup of steaming hot tea. Billy’s eyes caught on the ‘o’ shape of Steve’s lips, which reminded him of his dream. He averted his eyes, praying to God he wasn’t blushing, now that he couldn’t hide it behind his tan anymore (screw Hawkins, Indiana).

As Billy sat down, he noticed Steve had a piece of the pie he’d been eyeing. Not fair. He nearly started pouting but caught himself. After all, his pie-less state was his own fault. Why did he have to be reasonable?

Billy took his pen and the essays he had to grade out of his backpack to give himself something to focus on. But then Steve started eating. And he moaned. Quite obscenely.

“Mh, this is so good. Benny is a magician. You guys want a bite?”

Billy really wanted to say yes, not only because he wanted pie, but because Steve was the one offering. It would have been weird, though? Right?

“No thanks” he ended up saying. What a hard thing to say.

Robin had no such qualms. She needn’t have, since she and Steve were actually friends. Not only did she get to experience Steve warmth and kindness, she also got a bite of his pie. Did she even know how lucky she was?

Billy got into his grading. And he was already past the no-pouting stage of the afternoon. It sucked to be him, sometimes.

“You should probably wait for Steve to finish eating… and drinking too, to be honest, before you put your students’ paper on the table. That man is a disaster.”

Billy had to admit Robin was right. He ate lunch with Steve on a regular basis, and had therefore seen him spill a bunch of things on himself. Thankfully, nothing he had ever spilled had reached Billy, so they were probably safe.

“Oh come on! We’re on opposite ends of the table.” Steve objected.

“I know, but I’m sure you’d find a way.”

Steve scoffed but didn’t try to argue his case any further. He looked adorably ruffled when Robin laughed at his expanse.

They didn’t say anything more for a while, as they were finally doing what they had come here to do. At some point, though, Robin brought up a point one of her students had made about the French translation of “Newspeak” in George Orwell’s 1984, which led her and Billy to launch a discussion about the novel.

Steve offered no input whatsoever, but he had stopped grading and had been staring at them for five minutes straight.

It was making Billy’s skin itch.

At some point, he couldn’t take it anymore and asked:

“What’s your opinion Steve?”

“Uh… I… I don’t really have one.” He stammered, caught off guard.

“How come?”

“I, uh, I haven’t actually read the book.”

“Oh. Well, you should. It’s an amazing book.”

Steve fidgeted with his red pen, repeatedly taking the cap off and then putting it back on.

“Uh… I don’t know about that. It’s not really my thing.”

“How can you know it’s not your thing if you haven’t read it?” Billy asked, a tad defensively.

“I didn’t mean the book… I meant, reading.”

Steve bit his lower lip.

“Why not? Is that beneath a math buff such as yourself, or something?” Billy’s tone had become hostile.

And, by pulling accusations out of his ass like that, he had gone from defensive to straight up aggressive.

“No. ‘course not… It’s just… reading is hard for me… I’m, uh… I’m dyslexic, so…” Steve trailed off, looking down at the pen he was seemingly holding in a vice grip.

Billy was speechless with shame and regret, as Steve offered a wobbly smile and said: “I’m gonna… go get some more tea”, before leaving the table.

Billy stared at his retreating form before he turned to Robin and found her glaring at him. If he could have felt worse than he already did, he would have.

“So… should I go apologize right now or should I leave him alone and apologize later?”

Teenage Billy would have probably not apologized at all, but present-time Billy knew better. He felt like the biggest jerk.

“I’d say, go for it.”

Billy followed Robin’s advice and, with knots in his stomach, he went to Steve, who was waiting for his tea behind the counter.

“Steve, man… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay…” Steve said, but his eyes didn’t leave his own shoes.

That wouldn’t do. Billy had made Steve feel shitty, and he would make it better if it were the last thing he did.

“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have pushed.”

Billy had let his frustration with Steve get the better of him, and that was unacceptable. Steve was not particularly nice to him, so what? It wasn’t a reason to be outright mean to the guy.

“Really, it’s no big deal… It’s not like it’s a secret… my dyslexia, I mean.”

“Yeah, but you obviously didn’t want to share this piece of info with me, and I should have dropped it.”

“I just… I was afraid you’d find me stupid… But you probably thought I was stupid already, anyway… what with me never having anything interesting to say when Robin and you talk about literature.”

“Hey, I don’t…”

Benny placed Steve’s cup of tea on the counter, cutting Billy mid-sentence.

“It’s on me”, Billy said, fishing his five-dollar bill of change out of his jean’s back pocket and handing it to Benny.

“You didn’t have to.”

Was Steve blushing or was it a trick of the light?

“I want to make it up to you.”

“There’s nothing to make up for, but thanks.”

Steve grabbed his cup of tea and was going to go back to their table, but Billy held him back.

“Wait… I want you to know I don’t find you stupid, okay? I know I’m kind of a jackass, but not enough of one to actually think dyslexic people are stupid.”

“Good to know”, Steve replied.

“So, are we good?”

“I told you, we are.” Steve assured, smiling brighter than he had ever smiled at Billy before.

The knots in Billy’s stomach loosened, and his heart filled with warmth. So that was how it felt, when Steve’s sunshine fell upon you? Billy couldn’t wait to experience that feeling again.

“We should get back to Robin.”

“We should” Billy echoed, before following Steve, awestruck.

#Harringrove #Harringrove teachers AU #Billy Hargrove #Steve Harrington #Max Mayfield #Robin Buckley #Stranger Things

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lastbluetardis · 3 years

Text

Chemical Reaction (18/22)

Summary: Though their chemistry class is now over, the chemistry between James and Rose is just getting started. Together, they navigate the highs of new love and the lows of coping with past trauma to forge deep and unbreakable bonds of love and commitment. Part 2 in the Catalysis series. Tagging @doctorroseprompts

This chapter: ~6900 words, teen

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AO3 | FF | TSP

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14 | Ch15 | Ch16 | Ch17 | Ch18 | Ch19 | Ch20 | Ch21 | epilogue

James was shaking. It was like he hadn’t eaten in too long and his blood sugar dropped too low and his body started rebelling against him until he gave it nourishment.

Only this was worse. Much, much worse. He was dizzy and nauseated and crippled with grief.

How had the night gone so wrong? They’d been having fun at the Phillies game, hadn’t they? They’d been laughing and lighthearted, and were so exhausted that they’d been a few minutes away from collapsing into bed together.

Then he’d gone and snooped through Rose’s mail. He should have ignored the letter. He should have asked her what it was, and asked why Jimmy had contacted her.

Would she have told the truth?

He hated that he had to ask that question, and he hated even more that he didn’t have a definitive answer.

His body moved on autopilot down the many flights of stairs of Rose’s building, not entirely aware of his surroundings. It was a miracle he didn’t trip down the steps and break his neck, considering he couldn’t quite feel his feet. He couldn’t feel much of anything apart from the heavy, aching pressure in his chest and the acid roiling in his gut.

James slipped into his dark car, which was still warm from the drive to her flat. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be with Rose, holding Rose, snuggling Rose in bed as they drifted to sleep.

Instead, here he was. About to drive home. Alone.

A break. Rose wanted a break. Because he had been such an insensitive arsehole.

But so was she.

Every insecurity he’d shared with Rose, every heartbreaking moment of the aftermath of his parents’ death… had Rose not wanted to hear about any of them? He felt stupid—so stupid—for baring so much of his soul to her without realizing she wasn’t reciprocating. How had he ever thought the nuggets of information she’d dropped for him constituted reciprocity? She had put in the bare minimum of emotional effort, giving him just enough that their communication felt like a two-way street. Did she know what she was doing? Had this been her plan all along? Get him comfortable and familiar with her so he would fall utterly in love with her? So he would have sex with her? Was that all she had been after this whole time? Had she taken advantage of his inexperience and banked on him not realizing she wasn’t putting in as much effort as he was?

His shoulders shook as he wept into his hands, those ugly, nasty thoughts eating away at his mind until he couldn’t think of anything else. He didn’t want to believe that about Rose. These last four months with her had been nothing short of bliss. He’d never connected with anyone as much as he had with Rose. He was desperate to believe that what they’d had was real. It had to be real. It hurt too much for it all to have been nothing.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting in the dark before his tears stopped enough for him to turn his car on. The engine growled to life, and the time 12:03 flashed blue in his eyes. Had it only been twenty minutes since he had first pulled up to Rose’s flat? How had twenty minutes completely destroyed the last seven months of their friendship and relationship?

His vision blurred again with fresh tears, but he impatiently rubbed them away to put his car in gear and drive off down the deserted street.

It probably should have bothered him that he didn’t remember driving. Anything could have happened. He could have run every single stop light, could have hit anything or anyone. But he was suddenly home, pulling into his dark driveway sometime later. His house was equally dark. He hadn’t left any lights on because he hadn’t expected to come back here tonight.

The house was dead silent. Not even his cats could deign to greet him. He toed off his shoes by the front door then plopped his keys and wallet into the dish on the cabinet beside it.

“Pip?” he croaked, voice raspy from all the tears he’d shed. “Merry? Gollum?”

There was a tiny chirp from the living room—Pippin and Merry were curled together on the sofa. James frowned. They usually slept in his bed, even on the nights he didn’t come home. He stepped over to them and gave them each a few chin scritches, but they were too drowsy to do much other than purr lightly.

“Where’s Gollum, eh?” he asked them, glancing around the living room. The Siamese wasn’t in the cat tree, or anywhere in sight. After the night he’d had, it would be his luck if Gollum had crawled off somewhere and died.

Whatever. He would look for him in the morning. James wanted nothing more than to strip down to his pants, fall into bed, and not wake up for a few days.

However, those plans were instantly scrapped when he stepped into his bedroom and was greeted with the pungent, acrid odor of ammonia. A huge, reeking damp spot sat in the middle of his bed.

“God-fucking-dammit!” he shouted, kicking his bed frame.

He cried out and hopped on one foot as his toes burned in agony. His anger surged. Anger at himself, for jumping to conclusions and making too many accusations; anger at Rose, for keeping all of her secrets; anger at Jimmy, for everything he’d done to Rose; anger at his cat, for weeing on his bed when all he wanted to do was sleep and not wake up for a very long time.

James sank onto the edge of his bed—far away from the urine stain—his tears starting up again in earnest. He wanted Rose, and he hated that he wanted her. She had broken his heart more thoroughly than anyone ever had before, yet he still loved her. God, did he love her.

Was that wrong of him though? Was it unhealthy that he wanted her, wanted to make up with her, after everything they’d said that night? Could they even make up from something like this?

He hoped they could. He hoped they could find some sort of middle ground. What that middle ground looked like, he didn’t know; his brain was too foggy with exhaustion and grief to think about possible resolutions and compromises they could make.

Something vibrated against his thigh. Sniffling and wiping his sleeve across his running nose, James fished his mobile out of his pocket. A new message from Rose.

Did you make it home okay?

He wanted to reply, “What do you care?” but curbed the impulse. That wasn’t fair. If she’d had to drive home at midnight after the argument they’d just had, he would want to know she was safe.

“Yeah,” is all he sent.

Okay. Glad to hear it. Sleep well James.

“Fat fucking chance,” he muttered to his phone, and instead typed out, “Yeah. You too.”

He set his phone face-down on the mattress beside him and rubbed his fingers into his eyes. A throbbing headache was beginning behind his brow. He would love nothing more than to sleep soundly and dreamlessly, but knew that his brain wouldn’t shut down enough for him to get any restful sleep.

Besides, it’s not like his bed was in any sort of state to be slept in.

With a groan, James pushed himself to his feet and tucked his phone into his pocket. He ripped off all the layers of his bedding, cursing when he saw they were soaked down to the mattress cover. Had Gollum held his bladder all goddamn day so he could piss right through everything?

He carried the stinking pile of sheets and blankets to his laundry room and settled in for a long night of washing. He stuffed the duvet into his washer—glad this home used to belong to a single mother of three who had invested in a giant washing machine, and left it behind when she’d moved out—and dumped in two detergent pods before programming a long, hot wash cycle. He then took the rest of his blankets to his kitchen sink.

The sight of two days’ worth of dirty dishes made him want to throw them all against a wall—broken dishes didn’t need to be cleaned. However, the mess of broken dishes would be more taxing. Sucking in a deep breath, he blew it out noisily as he dropped his sheets onto the floor and loaded everything into the dishwasher.

When the sink was empty, he grabbed his blankets and gave them all an individual rinse to hopefully keep the cat urine stain from setting.

It took nearly two dryer cycles for his duvet to be completely dry, and then another two loads of laundry before the rest of his blankets and sheets were clean. To his relief, all traces of cat urine odor were gone.

It was the dead of night by the time he made his bed; if he fell asleep right now, he would get at least four hours in before he would have to get up for classes. Was it worth it to try to sleep? He was keyed up from his middle of the night laundry session and his brain was still too loud. Maybe he should give up on the notion of sleep and try to take a nap after classes. Though would it even be productive if he attended classes?

James flopped onto his back on the fresh duvet, breathing in the scent of clean laundry. He would have to revoke the cats’ bedroom privileges until they—Gollum—proved they could be trusted not to wee on everything.

He sat bolt upright. He hadn’t thought to check the guest bedroom. Grumbling to himself and crossing his fingers, he jogged down the hall, and cursed vehemently under his breath when he smelled cat urine.

What the hell? Should’ve left the stupid arsehole to drown.

Well. He was already awake. In for a penny, and all. Stripping that bed as well, he began the same laundry routine. While that duvet was in the wash, James indulged in a quick shower. The sweat and grime of the previous day coupled with crying his eyes out intermittently for the past few hours made him feel filthy.

The shower didn’t relax him as much as he’d hoped, not when the evidence of Rose was all around him. He hadn’t realized how completely she had insinuated herself into his home, into his life. Her shampoo, conditioner, and body wash sat right beside his, her bottles of pink and yellow keeping company with his blue and red ones.

Firmly ignoring her products, James rushed through his shower, lathering his hair and body in record time. But when he went to his pajama drawer, he was yet again reminded of Rose when he saw a set of her pjs in the drawer too. He couldn’t help but touch them, feeling the soft fabric beneath his fingertips as his brain reminded him of all the times he’d pushed her top off before they made love.

His stomach ached with longing. Hurriedly shutting the drawer, James instead moved to grab a pair of boxer-briefs. Rose’s knickers sat in a small pile in that drawer too. Growling in frustration, he grabbed a pair of pants at random and slipped them on before bending to root through his t-shirt drawer. Unsurprisingly, he found several of Rose’s shirts mixed in with his.

How had he not realized how much of Rose existed in his house? How had he not realized that her light and beauty shone through his home, and that she had made it her home too?

Because I loved it.

And he had. He had loved living with Rose, and had been counting down the days when she would officially move out of her flat and into his house.

His tears nearly started up again when he realized that he may never share a home with Rose if they couldn’t find a way to work through all that had been said. No more sleepy mornings spent giggling and kissing in bed. No more impromptu dance parties in the kitchen just because they felt like being silly. No more late-night chats that sometimes carried them into the wee hours of the mornings. No more exploring every beautiful inch of her body and losing himself in her love and pleasure.

He didn’t particularly care about the prospect of no more sex. Brilliant though it was, he found himself more devastated by the loss of Rose’s friendship than the loss of her body. He had fallen in love with her, and the thought of her not being in his life anymore was agonizing. They’d known each other for seven months, and she had somehow become a constant in his life, an unmovable force that he’d been confident would never be gone.

The unknown was killing him. The uncertainty of whether he and Rose would be able to make up. If they did manage to reconcile, to forgive and heal, would their relationship look the same as it did before?

A distant chime from down the hall told him the wash cycle was finished. Sniffling, James pulled on a soft, worn t-shirt and padded down the hall to continue his laundry. When the duvet was in the dryer and the sheets were in the washer, James started searching for Gollum. As irritated as he was with his cat, he was also concerned; apart from the first week James had brought Gollum home, the feline had never had litter box issues.

Drifting from room to room, James finally found Gollum in the basement—which also doubled as an office space—lying on the desk chair.

“What’s gotten into you, you little menace?” he asked, crouching beside the cat. Gollum didn’t react, making James’s heart lurch. “Gollum?”

He reached out and rested his hand on the cat’s side. Gollum let out a noise between a chirp and a growl.

“Thought you were dead for a minute. What on Earth is your problem, buddy? Are you not feeling well? Is the litter box not clean enough for you? Are you trying to make my shitty day even more shitty?” James sighed, and stroked the top of Gollum’s head. “I’ll call the vet when they open. In the meantime, try not to wee on anything else, yeah?”

Gollum huffed out a breath, then closed his eyes again, drifting off to sleep.

The rest of the night passed listlessly for James. When he wasn’t switching over laundry, he worked on cleaning his house from top to bottom. Anything to keep his mind busy and away from Rose, because otherwise all he could think about was the way he’d raised his voice and talked over her, the way he’d suggested she wasn’t as invested in their relationship as he was, the way she’d sobbed and hugged herself and flinched away from him. And all of that was something he definitely didn’t want to think about.

The sky was beginning to lighten in the distant horizon by the time he’d finished. His house was immaculate. There was not a scrap of unclean fabric anywhere, what with him moving on to washing his clothes and the various towels and blankets strewn around his home.

His eyes burned with exhaustion, and he thought he might be able to get some sleep. He preemptively filled his cats’ food dishes so that they wouldn’t barge into his room in an hour to demand breakfast, then he went into his bedroom and crawled beneath his sheets. Before settling in to try to sleep, he shot off a series of short emails to his various professors, letting them know he wouldn’t be in class that day, and he would arrange with some of his classmates to get their notes. That task finished, James silenced his phone and set it on the nightstand, then tugged his sheets up to his ears.

He hadn’t realized that his bed had begun to smell like Rose until he was surrounded by the scent of laundry detergent rather than her subtle floral aroma. With an intensity that stole his breath away, he was aware of how much he missed Rose. Missing her hurt almost as much as their fight did, because despite everything that had happened, he remained desperately in love with her. He knew that he would do just about anything to try to make things right with Rose, if she would let him. He hoped she would.

That train of thought kept him from getting much sleep. His mind kept replaying their argument over and over again, and it kept coming up with new rebuttals and explanations he wished he could have said instead of losing his temper.

It was ten o’clock by the time James gave up on the idea of getting any more rest. He felt worse now than he had when he’d collapsed into bed four hours ago. Bleary-eyed, James stumbled to the kitchen to begin a pot of coffee. While it brewed, he went to check on Gollum. His food dish beneath his cat tree was full, and the cat himself had barely moved from his position on the office chair.

“All right, bud. Vet time,” James murmured, stroking Gollum’s forehead and cheeks.

He went back upstairs for his phone, and placed a call to the veterinarian’s office. There were no available in-person appointments, but they told James he could drop the cat off with them and they would take some blood and urine samples from Gollum throughout the course of the day.

James didn’t feel particularly good about dropping his sick cat off and leaving him alone, but the alternative was waiting a few days for an open appointment. He thanked the vet tech and said he would be by with his cat within the hour.

With a sigh, James pulled on some clothes, poured coffee into a travel thermos, and managed to get Gollum into his carrier with minimal fuss. Gollum loathed being in a car carrier, and often yowled and growled for the entire duration until he was set free again; the fact that he remained utterly silent and unmoving was testament to the fact he felt poorly.

The drive to the vet’s clinic was unremarkable, as was the transfer of his cat into their care. He confirmed his contact information, and thanked them for being able to take Gollum so quickly.

Since he was already out and about, James stopped by a nearby Walmart for his monthly supply run. He hadn’t thought to bring a list along on what he had assumed would be a quick stop at the vet’s, so he tried his best to remember everything he needed.

He was about to head to the front registers when a display of vibrant colors caught his eye. Paint swatches.

Hmm. Been meaning to repaint my bedroom.

Pulling his shopping cart to the side, James grabbed a booklet and began leafing through for some palette ideas. Currently, his walls were boring off-white, which hadn’t really bothered him before. He always assumed he would eventually get around to repainting, but after nearly two years of living there, everything was the same as when he’d moved in.

No time like the present.

He spent the next half hour poring over paint colors and mentally mapping the colors onto his bedroom walls. He frequently found himself wondering whether Rose would like a certain color, before he shut down that train of thought; it always came back, though. For the past several months, Rose was never more than half a thought away. Despite their current situation, that was a hard habit to break.

In the end, he decided on an eggshell-finish steel blue color that could have passed for gray. A nice, cool, neutral shade (and, despite his best efforts, he was sure Rose would like it too). He added a soft white for his ceiling and a sharp white glossy paint to his order to touch up the trim and crown molding. With his new paint cans in tow, he moved to the next aisle for paint rollers and brushes, protective cloth canvas, tape, a paint tray, and any other painting accoutrements he could find.

On his way home, he stopped by a fast-food drive-thru for a burger and an order of fries. His cholesterol was probably not pleased with him, considering he’d eaten a cheesesteak and fries for dinner the night before, but he ultimately decided to hell with his cholesterol.

It was noontime when he finished his lunch, and he hopped right in with his painting project. It took him an hour to move all of his furniture to the middle of the room, and to unhang the various decorations on his walls. Not sure how long the painting would take, James shifted his entire dresser into his spare bedroom, where he figured he would sleep for the next night or two until the project was finished.

The soothing, repetitive movements of painting were cathartic, which is more than James could have hoped for. It took a fair amount of concentration, especially to make sure he didn’t drip paint where it didn’t belong. He enjoyed cutting in the corners and edges of his walls using one of the small brushes he’d bought, but he didn’t like using the broad paint roller to cover large areas. That was an easy and mindless task, which meant his brain could go back to Rose. And that was definitely not where he wanted his brain to go.

How much longer would his memory replay their fight for him? How long would it take before he stopped thinking about everything he could have and should have said differently? And how long was this break of theirs going to last?

Several times, he had been tempted to take photographs of his bedroom and send them to Rose. A tiny little olive branch, maybe. But no, that was stupid. That would look like he didn’t care about or didn’t want to address their fight.

He still took photos, though, wanting a before and after comparison for his own memories.

He was about to move on to the last wall of his bedroom when the vet called with an update on Gollum. When his phone had rung, his heart had jumped into his throat; he hadn’t been sure whether he was hoping or dreading to see Rose’s name. The crushing disappointment he felt gave him his answer. It took everything he had to not dismiss the call and instead phone Rose, desperate to speak with her and start mending whatever broke between them.

However, he had a duty to his cat, and so he accepted the vet’s call. Gollum, it turned out, had a rather severe urinary tract infection. The vet wanted to keep him overnight to start him on an aggressive antibacterial regimen, and to give him intravenous fluids because the cat was dangerously dehydrated.

The guilt nearly overwhelmed James. He hadn’t realized Gollum hadn’t been drinking or acting any differently; if the cat hadn’t wee’d on the beds, James wouldn’t have known anything was wrong. The vet tech, seeming to sense his distress, assured him that UTIs could frequently get overlooked, but that Gollum should make a full recovery.

“We anticipate you’ll be able to pick him up in a day or two.”

“Great, thanks,” James breathed. “Really. Thanks so much.”

The call reminded him it was time to feed his other cats. He had shut them away into the basement to keep them from wandering into his bedroom while he painted. As he walked down the hall, he could hear Pippin crying and scratching at the door.

“Sorry, sorry,” he called through the door. “One minute, boys. One minute, then I’ll bring down your dindin.”

He grabbed the two empty food dishes in the kitchen, filled them with kibble, grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge, and opened the basement door. Pippin bolted upstairs and sprinted directly to where his bowl usually sat. He froze when he saw it wasn’t there, and James couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“Right here, bud,” James said, shaking the bowl. “C’mon. You’re dining in the basement tonight, and tomorrow. Until I’ve finished painting. I absolutely do not trust you to not brush up against the wet walls, and I don’t fancy washing paint off of you.”

James continued talking to his cats as he carefully walked down the steps, wary of Pippin and Merry who both were winding around his ankles. Wouldn’t that just be the perfect ending to the past twenty-four hours? His relationship with Rose had crashed and burned, then he went and broke his neck falling down the stairs.

Once the cats were happily eating their dinner, James returned to his bedroom and worked on finishing what he could. He worked diligently until nightfall, pleased with his progress and with how well the color looked. However, he was growing to realize that the warm brown wood of his dresser, nightstand, and bookcases didn’t match with the cooler tones of the room.

Well, he’d been planning to upgrade his furniture anyway from the inexpensive mishmash of pieces he’d found at second-hand shops. Figuring he was done for the night, James set up a rotating fan to help with air circulation then went into his bathroom for a shower. Paint flecks spattered his face, hair, and arms; it took quite a bit of vigorous scrubbing before he was satisfied he’d washed it all off.

Once he was clean, dried, and dressed in pajamas, he exited his bedroom and closed the door behind himself so that he could release his cats from their basement prison. Not particularly hungry but figuring he ought to eat, he cut up an apple and scooped a dollop of peanut butter onto a plate, then took it and his laptop to his couch. Aching and exhausted, James simply sat on his sofa with his head tilted back and his eyes shut.

He nearly dozed off until Pippin clumsily jumped into his lap, nearly upending James’s snack.

“Shoo,” James grumbled, moving his cat to the sofa cushion beside him.

Pippin huffed, then walked in a circle half a dozen times before plopping right next to James’s thigh. Absently stroking his cat, James munched on his pitiful dinner and opened up his laptop to IKEA’s website.

He spent the next hour browsing new bedroom furniture. With the light, cool-toned walls, he thought dark furniture would pop rather nicely. He fell utterly in love with a curved, corner-unit bookcase, and with a long chest of drawers that could fit enough clothes for two people. He favorited both of those pieces of furniture as he wondered what to do with his current furniture. Some of it could be repurposed to other rooms in his house, but others, like his bed frame—if he decided to upgrade that as well—would have to be sold or donated.

The ring of his doorbell interrupted his mental reconfiguration of his home. He leapt to his feet and jogged to his front door, cautiously peering into the peephole to see who was visiting him so late at night. A tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed man had his face pressed close to the door, as though he could look through the opposite end of the peephole.

James threw open the door. “Jack? What the hell are you doing here?”

The other man scanned his eyes up and down James’s body, taking in the pajamas and his damp, messy hair. A salacious grin crossed Jack’s face.

“Oops, I didn’t interrupt anything important, did I?”

It took James a few seconds to realize what Jack meant. Then he wondered why Jack would think he and Rose had been in the middle of having sex. Eventually he remembered that nobody else was aware that he and Rose were in the middle of an argument. Which made him remember that he and Rose were in the middle of an argument. His mood soured, and he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“What do you want, Jack?”

Jack simply stared at him for a beat before saying, “It’s Thursday.”

James’s stomach sank. Thursday… pub quiz night… shit.

“We didn’t see you at Molly’s, and none of us had heard from you. I thought maybe you were busy with Rose, caught up in all sorts of delicious debauchery that I would love to hear about. But you don’t exactly seem to be in a state of post-coital bliss, so…”

“What do you want, Jack?” James repeated, gritting his teeth. His sleepless night had finally caught up with him, and he was suddenly exhausted. His body felt leaden and his head began to ache. The last thing he wanted to do was stand in his doorway and have this conversation with his friend/ex-boyfriend.

Jack scrutinized him so intently that James had to fight the urge to slam the door in Jack’s face.

“What’s up with you?”

“None of your bloody business,” James snapped. “Look, it’s late. Sorry I missed trivia night. I’ll be there next week. But if you wouldn’t mind…”

In a move James was not anticipating, Jack stepped forward and into James, startling him into backing up a step. Before he knew it, they were inside his house, and Jack had shut the door behind him.

“What the hell Jack?” James exploded. “I’m not in the bloody mood for this. Get out.”

“Spill. What’s happened?” Jack asked. Before James could shout at him again, he turned his head down the hall, sniffing. “Are you getting your house repainted?”

“Jack!” James followed uselessly as Jack strode down the hall to his closed bedroom door.

The other man threw open the door and flicked on the lights, revealing the messy, freshly-painted bedroom.

“Yes, I’m repainting my bedroom. Congratulations on your deductive reasoning skills. Will you please leave now?”

“Is there a reason you’ve started repainting your room on a random Thursday? That sounds like more of a weekend project.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I was out shopping and saw paint swatches and had the urge to repaint my bedroom. So here we are.”

“Why were you out shopping and looking at paint swatches in the middle of a school day? Play hooky, did you? You know, whenever I blow off classes for the day, it’s usually because I’m having sex. Was Rose too busy? Or have you worn her out already?”

James’s cheeks burned, even as his chest crumpled in on itself. He had done his best to not think about Rose all afternoon, yet here was Jack, bringing her up every other sentence.

“Well, at least I can finally say I got you in the bedroom,” Jack said lightly, digging his elbow into James’s ribs.

James managed a weak, half-hearted snort. “Not quite how you expected it though, is it?”

“Admittedly, we were both a lot more naked,” Jack lamented. “I’ll let you save the nakedness for Rose. Speaking of, what does she think of your sudden home makeover?”

James’s stomach hollowed out, and he surprised himself by confessing, “Dunno. Haven’t told her.”

Jack went silent for the first time all night. James could feel his friend’s eyes on him, but he steadfastly inspected his walls, looking for any imperfections he would have to pay close attention to when he applied the second coat.

“James, what happened?”

Jack’s voice was so soft and so knowing that the backs of James’s eyes prickled. Damn. He thought he was done crying. James sighed and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“I think… I think Rose and I might be breaking up soon,” he said, his voice hoarse.

Jack simply blinked at him, his face expressionless. “Right. We’re gonna get some alcohol, then you are going to explain everything to me. Why do you think you and Rose are breaking up? You two are the epitome of soulmates, if such a thing exists.”

James snorted, remembering every hurtful thing he and Rose had said last night. “Not anymore, we’re not.”

Jack clapped him lightly on the back, before he encircled his arm around his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. “Let’s go sit down.”

Keeping his arm where it was, Jack guided James to the kitchen and plopped him into the chair that Rose usually sat in. James didn’t bother moving, and instead watched his friend go to the fridge and pull out a partially-drunk bottle of wine. He and Rose had opened that bottle last weekend. They’d snuggled on the sofa together and made a drinking game out of watching a cooking show together. Half way through the bottle, they’d gotten pleasantly tipsy and had stopped paying attention to the television in favor of making out.

Jack found the cabinet that contained the wine glasses and pulled down two of them. He sat at the table opposite of James, filled the glasses, and pushed one towards him. James gulped down half of it in one go.

“Okay. Tell me everything,” Jack said, topping off James’s wine glass.

The words poured out of him, from every heartbreaking thing Rose had told him, to everything he had said in return. Jack’s face remained impassive as James spoke, never once interrupting, even though James wasn’t sure he managed to capture all of the details as clearly as he would have preferred.

“I’ve ruined everything,” James concluded, polishing off the liquid in his glass before refilling it.

“No, you haven’t,” Jack said gently. “You buggered it up a little bit. But so did Rose. You brought up some valid points, James. You deserve to be in a relationship with someone who is honest and forthcoming. It isn’t a good balance for one person to constantly be sharing while the other remains a closed book. However, it’s not healthy to expect the same level of reciprocity from Rose as what you bring to the table. Especially when you haven’t been upfront with Rose about your expectations. And where you did bugger things up was with shooting yourself down so hard. Especially as a way to excuse what you’ve said, or assumptions you’ve made.”

“But… I genuinely feel like I’m at a complete and utter loss all the time,” James defended, ringing his fingertip around his wine glass. “It’s like… it’s like people innately know how to do this, this romance thing, and I’m bumbling along like an idiot.”

“Were you insecure in your friendship with Rose? Before you began dating? Did you feel any of this last semester?”

James paused, considering. He’d always had some butterflies when he spent time with Rose last semester, but for the most part, he’d simply enjoyed being in her presence. That hadn’t changed at all, despite their new relationship status. She had remained his best friend, the person he always wanted to be around, and the person he wanted to share every piece of his life with.

“No,” he whispered, pressing his fingertips into his eyes.

“Soooo… what’s the difference between being Rose’s friend versus being her boyfriend? I mean, I assume by now that you’re having sex? Apart from that, it’s not like anything really changed. Is the sex bad or something? Do you not like it?”

James felt his cheeks heating as his stomach twisted. Being intimate with Rose was one of the most special things he’d ever shared with someone. Not only did it feel brilliant, better than he ever thought physical pleasure could be, but it was equally as emotionally satisfying. Being vulnerable with Rose hadn’t been terrifying or overwhelming, but rather comforting. There had been nobody he trusted more than Rose.

“No,” he croaked. “No, it’s been… it’s been incredible. Everything with her has been incredible.”

“Has Rose given any indication that she has been dissatisfied with you in any way? Not even with the sex, but just…” Jack waved his hands around in the air. “…in general?”

You’re everything I never thought I deserved to have.

Hot tears burned in his eyes then dripped down his cheeks. Every kiss she’d given him, every squeeze of her hand in his, every sleepy smile that spread across her face when she woke up and saw him… It all raced through his head, a testament to their love.

What have I done?

He pressed his palms into his eyes

“No,” he answered, his voice raw.

Jack sighed. “Oh, James.”

“I know!” He plonked his forehead down onto the table and curled his arms around his head, tugging on his hair until it hurt. “I fucked up, Jack.”

James heard the scraping of chair legs on the floor, then a warm body was pressed tightly into his own. Jack wrapped his arm around James’s shoulders, leaning into him in a sideways hug.

“Much like having sex,” Jack began, “having an argument takes more than one person. Most times, anyway. If either situation is being done by only one person, chances are they’re a wanker.”

James let out a weak laugh, even as his eyes and throat burned with more tears.

“Rose said some very hurtful things,” Jack said, rubbing his hand soothingly up and down James’s arm. “She needs to apologize and address those. But you accused her of some pretty terrible things, too. From what you’ve said, Rose’s relationship with this Jimmy guy was toxic, if not abusive. It’s insulting for you to suggest she would want to go back into a relationship like that.”

James’s stomach ached. He had known for months that Rose’s relationship with Jimmy had been unhealthy, and that her heart had been badly broken. That should have been enough for him. Did he really need to know every single detail of her heartbreak?

No, he decided. No, he didn’t. However, he would have liked to have known that Jimmy had reached out to her. At the very least, James wanted to know why Rose hadn’t wanted to tell him Jimmy had contacted her.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” he admitted.

“At least you know you want to fix it,” Jack said, giving James a squeeze. “That’s a good start. It means you’ve determined that what you have with Rose is worth fighting for. But you need to take a long, hard look at what you want from this relationship, and more importantly, what you want from Rose. And you need to be receptive to what she wants from you and your relationship. And you need to work on your own insecurities and stop projecting them onto Rose. That’s a shitty thing to do, James. You have the insecurities, so it’s your job to work through them. Stop making excuses for yourself, and stop projecting them onto Rose.”

“Not sugar coating this at all, are you?” James muttered, though he knew Jack’s advice was sound.

“Nope. I’ve let you mope for a half hour, but now you need to start making things right. And remember. You can only change yourself—you can’t change Rose. So decide what you’re willing to put up with, because she might never be as open as you want her to be. But also set some boundaries for yourself. A relationship is give and take, and lots of compromise. You can’t keep giving and giving and giving, or else you’re not going to have anything left.”

James cocked his head to the side and peeked up at Jack. “Do you have a degree in relationship counseling that I don’t know about?”

Jack laughed, and took his arm away from James’s shoulders to instead ruffle his hair. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“But how do I start a conversation with Rose to tell her I want to fix things?” James asked.

Jack pursed his lips and tapped his finger to his chin in mock thought. “Have you considered anything like “Hi Rose, I really want to make up and then make out”?”

James snorted. “I’ll think of something else. Oh, and I might have some furniture coming tomorrow or Saturday. Wanna help me move stuff?”

Jack winked. “You know, I think I’m busy. Why don’t you see if Rose is free?”

“Subtle,” James drawled. He then sighed. “Thanks for stopping by, Jack.”

“See, aren’t you glad I wasn’t put off by your less-than-warm welcome? If you want to practice your apology skills, I’ll take one.”

“Okay, I think it’s time we said goodbye,” James said, dragging his weary body up from the chair. He collected their empty wine glasses and set them in the sink.

“A piece of advice, don’t try that one with Rose. Maybe try a kiss or two. I’ll take one of those, if you’re offering.”

James rolled his eyes and lightly shoved his friend out of the kitchen. They’d only made it a few steps when the doorbell rang.

“Bit late for a social call, isn’t it?” Jack asked, frowning at James.

James gestured up and down the length of Jack’s body. “You can talk, showing up here at nine o’clock.”

“Touché. Late-night furniture delivery?”

“I haven’t ordered anything yet. Besides, no one would deliver this late.”

Shrugging, James stepped ahead of his friend to yank open the front door. His breath left him in a sharp, little whoosh when he beheld the person standing in the yellow glow of the porch light, cradling a small, plastic container to her stomach.

“Rose.”

#ficandchips #dwfic #doctorroseprompts #doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #james x rose #university au #angst #romance #my fic #chemical reaction #catalysis series #chemical potential sequel

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 4 years

Text

An Open Invitation

Darth Maul x Jayna Dar, Darth Maul x OC, Force Sensative!OC, Can be read as Female!Reader, Light Angst

Warnings: NSFW, Rough Sex, Fingering, Force Bonding

Requested by @wolfangelwings

Good on you for wanting to grow as a writer! I wish you luck! How about some smut practice? 128 from your prompt list, Maul and OC. I look forward to seeing what you pull off! If you accept of course

Sentence Prompt: “You’d better be quiet or everyone’s going to know what a naughty little slut you are.”

A/N: This is my first attempt at smut so bare with me. Also, I wasn’t sure if you meant my OC or just a reader insert in general. So, I decided to use this as an excuse to write for my OC Jayna. But, it can be easily read as a female reader insert. I hope that’s okay. And remember PLEASE REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS!!!

Word Count: 3.3K

It had been a hard mission. The simple fact both Jayna and Maul had come personally was a testament to that.

The syndicates were getting antsy. While the war had allowed them to act with impunity, it had also allowed Maul to gain control with relative ease. The freedom the crime lords had gained had been taken away too soon for some of their liking. One small sect of the Hutts decided they did not like working for Lord Maul, and began branching out on their own. Such branches needed to be cut, quickly and efficiently.

And so they were. Normally it would have been a job for Jayna and a handful of Death Watch troopers. But, Maul had wanted to make a statement. A reminder of who exactly these crime lords had pledged fealty to and exactly what the wrath of a former Sith Lord looked like.

Jayna suspected it was also an odd form of therapy. Maul had been on edge lately, ever since his vision. He was right to be. Even if she could not fully see the future as he did, she could feel it. All the pieces were starting to come together; a large heavy boot over the galaxy just waiting to drop. Unfortunately for them, there was nothing to do, but wait.

He needed something to work the edge off. So did she. And when stamping out a handful of unruly gangsters didn’t do the trick… Well, there were other ways.

So, she found herself in Maul’s cabin, casually laid out on the bed and scrolling through her data pad until the door finally hissed open.

“What are you doing here?”

The question came cautiously, borderline annoyed, and in a timbre which came like a secret in her ear.

She covered the shiver going down her spine with a crooked smile as she turned her head.

“Well, hello dear. How was your day?”

Maul’s eyes narrowed. Stepping further into the room, he closed the door behind him. The space dimmed immediately at the loss of the hallway light.

“You’re avoiding the question.”

Jayna rolled her eyes. “Really? And here I thought I was being obvious.”

For emphasis, she raised her knee allowing the silk robe she was wearing to slip, showing off her legs and the fact she was wearing nothing of value underneath.

She felt a twinge of satisfaction as Maul’s instinctual lust rippled through the force.

The air grew heavy with anticipation as he took her in. His breath came hard and low. His eyes lingering on her legs, traveling up her smooth torso to her breasts peeking out of the folds of the fabric. One shoulder was exposed allowing a clear line along her collar bone to her neck and finally to her green eyes brimming with amusement and hunger.

Jayna kept calm, the crooked smile never leaving her lips as she waited for him to make the first move.

But Maul was stubborn. The suffocating need was slowly being aired away as he gained control of himself. While his hand twitched and muscles strained, he would not give her what she wanted so easily.

“What have I told you about coming unannounced,” he said, his tone taking on a darker edge.

“That it was presumptuous and impulsive?” she answered, lightly.

“Yes. But the exact word I used was “don’t”.”

She shrugged. “You’re the one who gave me the open invitation.”

Maul’s lip twisted into a snarl.

She wasn’t wrong. They both remembered the way he all but growled into her ear the first time he made her cum.

The next time you need to be fucked, you come to me first.

That was as close as they got to official, but it worked for them. There were no promises to be kept. No expectations. She refused to bend to any form of master and he would not force her to. Still, there were moments like this when pride got in the way.

“I’m revoking the invitation,” he said. His voice slipping back into its smooth control while losing none of its edge.

She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“You’ve abused the privilege.”

For a long moment they stared at each other. Jayna, carefully trying to probe his mind. Maul, effectively locking her out. Stalemate.

Finally, she let out a long, almost regretful sigh. “Fine.”

Maul blinked, unable to hide his surprise. “Fine?”

“Fine.”

She straightened up. Not a word left her lips as she adjusted her robe, making sure both shoulders were properly covered as she stepped barefoot onto the metal floor.

Maul just stared at her, waiting for an explanation, a sign of frustration, anything.

But, Jayna simply padded past him as if nothing had happened. She almost reached the door before he finally cracked.

“Where are you going?” he asked. The tentative control he had gained melted away as a low rumble from his throat accompanied the question.

She turned to him, her face taking on an almost innocent expression. “I thought I might knock on some doors. You’re not the only man on this ship after all.”

She then turned back to the door and pressed it open.

It closed before she could even take a step.

Her lip twisted in a satisfied smile. She won.

Maul was on her in a second. He grabbed hold on her waist, spinning her around before slamming her back against the metal door. She barely had time to breath before he attacked her lips in a bruising kiss. His hands made fast work, tearing open her robe as his tongue did the same with her mouth.

Jayna felt no shame at the moan that came from her throat. She was wearing nothing beneath the silk robe. The contrast of his hot skin against her chest and the cool metal at her back was sinful.

This was exactly why she came to him first.

His fingers worked their way up and down her body, grabbing and clawing at every inch of skin he could reach. Finally one hand settled on her breasts, tugging and rolling her nipple between his fingers, sending waves of pleasure straight down her spine. The other traveled down, right to where she needed him most.

Her wanton mewl was barely muffled by his mouth as he palmed her sex, spreading her wetness all over his fingers.

Maul hummed an approval as his lips pulled away from hers only to trail a line to her ear.

“Is this what you want little hunter,” he purred, brushing her clit with his thumb as he did so.

“Yes,” she gasped.

He chuckled darkly. It was the only warning she had before he plunged two fingers into her dripping cunt.

There was no mouth to silence her this time as she let out a piercing cry.

It only spurred Maul further as he continued his attack at a brutal pace.

She couldn’t think. She didn’t want to. All she knew was what she could feel.

His fingers reaching deep into her, curling and hitting just the right spot over and over again. His thumb working her clit. His hot lips burning and sucking the skin of her throat. She was certain the arm now wrapped around her waist was the only thing keeping her upright as she gripped his arms for balance.

Pressure was building in her abdomen. Beads of sweat dripped down her forehead, only to be caught by Maul’s tongue when it reached her throat. She was losing any control she had of her vocal cords. A string of groans, and cries, and babbling nonsense, poured from her mouth.

She could feel it. She was getting close. Her hips bucked wildly against his fingers as she chased her high. Fuck. Just a little more.

“You’d better be quiet,” Maul murmured, teasingly into her ear. “Or everyone on this ship is going to know what a wanton slut you are.”

Fuck. His voice was pure sex. But, even through the haze, Jayna recognized a challenge when she heard it.

Pulling her hand away from his arm, she grasped the back of his neck, keeping him where he was.

“Who says I don’t want them to know?” she whispered back.

Maul let out an animalistic snarl before pulling out of her pussy entirely.

Jayna could not stop the moan of frustration that left her lips. The loss of his fingers was palpable as her cunt ached and clenched at nothing.

She didn’t have long to mourn as Maul pulled her into a dangerous kiss. The lust on his tongue bordered on mania as he picked her up by her thighs, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist.

“If you insist on being a slut,” he growled. “Then let them hear exactly who is fucking you.”

He turned them around and walked only a few steps before dropping her on the bed.

Jayna wasted no time pushing herself up toward the headboard, making a point to face Maul the entire time.

The look in his eyes was that of a predator. Their normal golden yellow almost completely blacked out. He tore off his clothes leaving his tattooed chest completely exposed, a testament to his strength and agility.

Stars, he was beautiful like this.

His hands moved down the place where his metal legs met his skin.

This part, Jayna always had to see.

He pressed a button. A panel between his legs slid aside allowing a hard metallic cock to push its way out.

It would be easy to call Maul’s replacement cock a glorified dildo, but Jayna knew from experience it was so much more than that. It was shaped like that of a normal Zabrak male; three ridges sat after the head, each thicker than the last, long, and generous in it’s girth. She knew it was always warm and always hard. But more importantly, it brought Maul pleasure as well.

He took the length in his hand, stroking it roughly as a low moan graveled in his throat. Already beads of lubricate leaked from the tip. He wasted no time in spreading up and down his cock.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Jayna thanked Mother Talzin for her attention to detail.

In a second, he was on the bed pulling her toward him by her ankle. She let out a small yelp of surprise as he wrapped her legs around his waist. He knelt on the mattress, gripping her thighs so hard all she could do was twist in his grasp. Her shoulders and head were the only thing touching the bed. He had complete control.

She didn’t fight him now. She just wanted his cock inside her already.

Still he teased her, not quite pulling her flush against him. He simply rubbed his length against her opening, her juices slicking the end of his dick.

Jayna tried to get leverage, bucking and twisting, but he just let her squirm. His lip turned up in a satisfied smile.

“Say it, little hunter,” he purred. “You know what I want to hear.”

“Fuck you,” she rasped.

“Not quite.” He allowed his tip to brush against her clit, sending a shiver of warmth up her back. “Try again.”

She bit her lip, trying her best to hold onto her pride, but her grip was slipping.

“Fuck me,” she demanded.

“Almost there.” This time his tip landed dangerously close to her opening.

It was becoming unbearable. Fuck him. Fuck him straight to hell. But stars, she needed him.

“Fuck me until the only name I know is yours,” she groaned. “Please Maul.”

And with those magic words he thrusted into her.

Maul’s name ripped from her throat in a desperate plea. Pain mixed with pleasure as he tore into her like a wild animal. There was no edicate. No form. Nothing but raw instinct and cardinal lust.

The ridges of his cock only heightened her pleasure, touching and moving inside her as nobody else had done before. How could she ever go back to humans after him? Who else could fill her so completely? Who could possibly make her feel like this?

Maul pounded into her, his fingers crawling into her thighs so tightly it hurt. His grunts and curses mixed loudly with her own. Anyone who came within ten feet of the door would know what they were doing. Somehow it only made it hotter.

She threw her head back, giving into every sensation. A hand went to her breast, pawing and pulling blindly as she rode the high. Her other hand reached down to rub her begging clit.

“No,” Maul snarled, ripping her hand away.

Jayna wasn’t given a chance to protest.

He yanked her upward, forcing her to straddle his waist. Her chest pressed hard against his. His hands gripped her waist just as dangerously as they just had her thighs.

Without skipping a beat, he thrusted up, impaling her again and again on his cock. The new angle pressed her clit perfectly against his pelvis sending sparks of pleasure through her body. It also gave him easy access to her tits which his mouth took with fever.

“Yes!” she cried. “Yes! Fuck! Maul! Yes! Maul! Fuck!”

It was as if those were the only words she knew. She latched to his body as if it was the only thing keeping her grounded. Still, she wanted more and she knew just how to get it.

Taking his face in her hands, she yanked his mouth from her breasts.

Something down right feral came from his throat only to be quickly sated by her lips on his.

“Let me in,” she rasped. “Let me feel you. Open yourself to me.”

Maul’s breath hitched. Their eyes met; green and gold and black. He cupped her cheek, keeping his forehead pressed. It was the first gentle touch he had given her all night.

“As you wish,” he whispered.

It was then she felt it; waves of pleasure, his pleasure pushing out and consuming every inch of her.

Maul moaned out her name, feeling the exact same thing she did.

Her throat tightened, blood rushed in her ears as she was hit again and again by the sensation. It sent her careening over the edge into oblivion; but it didn’t stop there.

Somewhere far away she heard a primal scream, whether it was her or Maul, she could tell.

Their minds were becoming one. Her own orgasm triggered Maul’s which crashed into hers which became part of his in an endless feedback loop. She couldn’t tell if it was a series of orgasms hitting one after another or it was one long continuous stream. All she knew was she couldn’t stop.

She didn’t know how long it lasted, but somehow, someway, she was able to breath. The white of her vision began to clear. Her thighs were still trembling around Maul. She was faintly aware of the nails digging into her shoulder and waist, and the small beads of blood forming there, but she was still too blissed out to care.

They stayed there a long while, each catching their breath.

Finally, Maul made the first move. Carefully, oddly gently, he pushed Jayna back down against the mattress, before slowly pulling out.

This time Jayna did feel a slight embarrassment at the discontented hum that came from her lips at the loss.

Maul collapsed beside her, his chest still panting from the exercise.

She could still feel him through the force. Not as strongly as before, but there none the less, as if part of him was still beneath her skin. It was an after affect of the bond and would fade in a few hours. She never got used to the sensation. She didn’t know if she should be afraid of it, or enjoy it.

“So,” she said, her voice hoarse from overuse. “Does this mean I get to keep my invitation.”

She turned her head to find him already looking at her. A small smile touched the corner of his mouth.

“For now,” he answered, dryly.

Jayna huffed a laugh as she reached out a hand. Gripping his neck, she coaxed him closer until their lips met in a gentle kiss. Maul responded in kind, his fingers curling into her dark hair.

The kiss was peaceful, lazy, and for its own sake. The lingering traces of the force bond only heightened the ease of it all.

Jayna liked this. She liked it a lot.

But as they lay there, she was starting to become aware of the sweat on her brow, the small cuts on her sides and the sticky ache between her legs.

Sensing her thoughts, Maul pulled away and lifted himself from the bed. Maybe he simply had better stamina or maybe it was the fact his legs were actually mechanical, but he always recovered faster than she did after this kind of sex.

He came back from the refresher with a washcloth in hand.

He took a comfortable position on his side, allowing him to lean over her as he pressed the cool cloth against her skin.

She hissed on contact, but he paid it no mind. Deligently, he wiped away the slick from her inner thigh and dabbed the small indented cuts on her sides and shoulders.

He was good at this. It always surprised her, how gentle he could be.

He set the cloth aside, but he did not move from his spot.

His fingers traced themselves lazily against her skin, caressing her in warmth. The feeling of being touched and touching was too good to pass up.

Maul practically purred as she reached out to him and once again pulled him into a kiss.

She needed this. They both did. A moment away from their connection to the force as a whole to be complete consumed by one another. She wondered from time to time if that was the real reason both Jedi and Sith preached the virtues of detachment. If two force sensitive beings could do this for the rest of their lives, they wouldn’t do anything else.

But, it couldn’t last. Of course it couldn’t. It had to end. Good things in her life always ended.

Jayna pulled away. The bond faded and she once again could sense the way the force was holding its breath. The proverbial boot about to drop. If she wasn’t careful, it would land right on top of her.

“What are you thinking,” Maul asked.

She let out a breath. “I’m thinking I should go.”

A small crease came to his brow. “Go where?”

Jayna suppressed a laugh at the sight. The boot momentarily forgotten. “Back to my room,” she said, before adding a teasing smile. “Straight back to my room.”

He was silent a moment; the crease on his brow never fully disappearing.

She wondered if tonight was the night he’d ask her to stay. She wondered if she would say no.

But he didn’t say a word. He simply rolled onto his back, giving her the freedom to leave. It made it harder, somehow. But, like so many things, pride and self preservation got in the way.

Jayna stepped off the bed. She could feel Maul’s eyes follow her as she made her way across the room; his gaze lingering on the scratches marking her back and thighs. She didn’t have to look at him to see the satisfied smirk on his lips.

Kneeling down, she picked up her discarded robe off the floor. She started to slip it back on when Maul called to her.

“Jayna?”

She turned to see Maul staring at her with an intense, but unreadable expression on his face.

“You weren’t actually going to knock on doors, were you?”

He had meant it as a statement. It came across as a statement, but the look in his eyes suggested something much different.

A part of her wanted to tell the truth. To assure him and herself that they weren’t alone. But too much disappoint told her no.

Keep your distance. Keep it simple. Make it easy to run when it all goes to hell.

She plastered on her signature crooked smile, hoping the playfulness met her eyes.

“I guess we’ll never know, will we?”

And with that she pressed the door opened and walked away.

#darth maul #darth maul x reader #darth maul x oc #maul #maul x reader #the clone wars #star wars #jayna dar #my oc stuff #lemon

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justjeonday · 4 years

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Justjeonday’s prompt list; fluff

I do not take credit for any of the prompts listed below, I have simply assorted my own prompt list. Credit goes to rightful owners.

One member and one prompt per request.

Send in your request to me here.

PROMPTS;

”The bed is so cold without you.”

”You smell nice.”

”Can we stay like this forever?”

”He’s very dreamy, but he’s not the sun - you are.”

”There are shooting stars in your eyes, and everytime I look at you, I make a wish to be able to kiss you one last time.”

”Can I kiss you?”

*gasp* ”Are you jealous?”

”You’re so cute when you’re half asleep like this...”

”You’re really drunk right now, I don’t think you’re gonna remember any of this.” ”I’m not drunk at all, you’re just a little blurry.”

”Are you going to get into bed with me or what?”

”I’ll do it for you.”

”I can’t stop thinking about you.”

”Sleep at my place tonight.”

”Kiss me.”

”Don’t go on that date.” ”Why?” ”Cause it’ll kill me if you do.”

”I missed being with you like this.”

”I’ll keep you warm, hold me closer.”

”Do you really have to go?”

”Could you play with my hair, please?”

”Can’t sleep?”

”Just one more kiss.”

”Your eyes are really pretty.”

”The stars are nothing compared to the ones I’ve seen in your eyes.”

”I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

”I love you so much it almost hurts.”

”I must be in heaven.”

”You keep saying we’re friends but you look at me for a moment too long for that to be true.”

”I will love you forever and when ’forever’ ends, I’ll love you some more.”

”You keep a photo of me/us in your wallet?”

”Don’t leave me like that again, you scared me.”

”Mmm, tastes like cherries.”

”Let’s go home, you’re freezing and I don’t want you catching a cold.”

”I- um, can I hold your hand?”

”Once I kiss you, everything will be different between us huh?”

”Your lips are so soft.”

”It was me - I wrote you that love note.”

”Mine.” ”Yours.”

”Come sleep in bed with me, it’s a lot more comfortable than the couch.”

”You sleep with the stuffed animal I got you?” ”Of course.”

”I’ll share the blankets with you.”

”I love you, but I need you to go away because you’re really distracting and I have to pass this test tomorrow.”

”Are you blushing?”

”Do you... maybe want to grab a coffee with me sometime?”

”I need an excuse to hold your hand.”

”You’re being all cute and sweet, it’s making me want to kiss you.”

”Shh—- come back to bed.”

”If you’re not gonna hand it over, I guess I’ll just have to revoke cuddling privileges.”

”Let me love you.”

”You’re being shy with me, aren’t you-” ”No I’m not!” ”Yes you are!”

”I’m seriously not that drunk.”

Feel free to reblog this and let your followers send you a number!

#prompts #writing prompt #fic prompts #angst prompts #fluff prompts #justjeonday #promptlist

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startrailed · 4 years

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Headcanons based on the “This or That” muse edition dash game

Ok so I HAD that dash game on my blog, but today it’s been getting notes bc people are reblogging it and adding their versions instead of REPOSTING, so i had to delete the other one just to (hopefully) stop the notifications. this itself is not a dash game btw it’s me taking info from when i did the dash game and posting it as headcanons/written out “this over that” answers.

Obi-Wan prefers tea, but he’ll drink coffee on occasion.

He definitely is up at dawn and grumbling when it gets too late. But he’s also a workaholic who stays up all night anyway.

White chocolate is a blight on the universe, but he loves vanilla ice-cream.

He prefers spring over autumn because that’s when everything is growing and coming back to life, although it’s a close call because he loves the colors and the energy of autumn almost as much.

He probably looks better in gold but he likes the shine of silver better.

Pop is dead and alternative (or classical or jazz or hip-hop) is the only decent choice.

Obi-Wan finds freckles on someone much more endearing than dimples, especially if they’re faint enough that you have to be close enough to kiss the person to tell, all the better. If they’re present enough to try to make out constellations in intimate settings, then he’s all for that too. just. freckles.

Snakes are slithery and freaky. Sharks are just misunderstood bitey goldfish.

There’s something about being up high on a mountain with the cold air stealing your breath away that prompts him to search them out. Or just the height of it. He loves heights.

If he had to have either the full thunderstorm or just the lightning, he’d rather the thunderstorm. the combination of rolling winds, darkened skies, torrential rain, and having all that AND the lightning makes him happy.

He loves all mythology, but Greek has a slight edge over Egyptian purely for the sheer soap opera feel it has.

Scarlet is a sith color. Ivory goes with everything.

Flutes are better than Lyres. There’s no real explanation for it besides that I, the mun, played the flute and I like them better.

Opals are prettier than diamonds don’t change his mind.

Obi-Wan definitely has a “save the bees!” shirt in his modern AU

Macrons look pretty and delightful, but eclairs actually deliver the flavor. Obi-Wan finds them easier to make, too.

Obi-Wan wants to handwrite everything but he’ll take the typing route every. single. time.

Give Obi-Wan a library that only HE has access to and you’ll never get him out of it.

Obi-Wan loves heights, as said earlier. He also likes the feeling of danger associated with heights without some form of a railing or barrier protecting him from falling. find him on rooftops.

All manner of food, Master Obi-Wan likes. Nothing’s too spicy, but sometimes a nice bowl of mashed potatoes with butter and salt and little else is delicious too. Mmmm comfort food.

You go to the opera for Sith fairy tales. You go to the ballet for REAL entertainment.

Look if Ben picks anywhere but London in the modern!AU he’ll have his English privileges revoked. if he picks PARIS instead he’ll be struck down by thunderstorm-less lightning.

Monet and Van Gogh are treasures to the universe, but Van Gogh is life.

Leather’s for punks and sith. Denim is warm AND cotton.

potions are finite and take too long to brew. Obi-Wan would rather a quick chant or spell word anyday.

While he has no qualms with sand, Obi-Wan love the ocean and water in general better. If he ever had to go into exile, he’d rather it be on an island in the middle of the ocean ((*evil cackling*))

mermaids and sirens are both valid. Sirens are cooler.

Masquerade balls? You mean where you get to dress up in disguise? YES. cocktail parties? You mean where you get to look nice while getting PLASTERED? YES.

#I have a bad feeling about this (about/headcanon tag)

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sunshinejins · 5 years

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from a to z, you and me

chapter 3!! now to explain, the past two chapters were moments from cyrus and tj’s lives that have gotten them to where they are today. from now on, we’re staying in the present! hope you enjoy and don’t be afraid to reblog or leave a comment :)

Now

tippen jippen kippen: what’s my contact name this week

cy: tippen jippen kippen

tippen jippen kippen: aRE YOU KIDDING ME

cy: i think it suits u better than theodore

tippen jippen kippen: better than broccoli boi i guess

cy: that was a really good contact name actually, hold up

broccoli boi: COME ON

Cyrus’ stomach is sinking into his shoes. He feels like he’s fourteen again, sitting across from Buffy at The Spoon, trying to get up the courage to tell her he likes Jonah Beck. That time, however, he had had the underlying feeling that he was going to come out okay. This time, he wasn’t so sure.

“Cyrus come on. It’s just one loop.”

“One loop over and over again!” Cyrus fails his arms in panic. Buffy rolls her eyes and steals another bite of Marty’s cotton candy. The GHC plus Jonah, his boyfriend, Marty, and TJ had all shown up to the Turtle Creek funfair for the weekend. While the first part of the morning had been cooing over baby animals and eating copious amounts of ice cream, the afternoon was all rides. All. The. Time.

Cyrus didn’t have anything against rides really, but this was his last weekend before school started back up again (junior year, whoop whoop!) and he really didn’t want his last summer weekend to be tainted with the memory of him throwing up constantly. Jonah gives him a sympathetic look before tucking an arm around his boyfriend Walker’s shoulders.

“Cy, it’ll be fun!”

“No,” Cyrus folds his arms and starts walking decidedly away from the lineup to the Fireball. He doesn’t care if his friends think he’s lame, even JOnah’s cool new boyfriend. All he wants is sugar therapy, and he’s pretty sure he saw some mini donuts around the bumper car attraction.

“Cyrus, wait up!” Cyrus turns and TJ is jogging lightly towards him. Cyrus feels his stomach dip slightly in anticipation and he wants to scold himself. It’s no secret to anyone that he has a soft spot for TJ. EVer since they were pen pals when they were little, he’s held a certain spot in his heart for him. Even though they don’t write letters to each other anymore, the connection is still there. Lately, however, the soft spot has been growing into something that’s horribly close to a crush and Cyrus can’t stop himself from weakening a bit at the knees whenever TJ looks at him anymore.

“Aren’t you going on the Fireball?” He shuffles his feet back and forth awkwardly. TJ shrugs.

“Eh. I live here. I can come back after school Monday if I really want.” Cyrus sinks a little remembering. They still live in different cities. When TJ’s parents split up when he was in the seventh grade and TJ was in the eighth, Cyrus remembers TJ’s petition to get them to move to Shadyside. His mom eventually vetoed the idea, claiming that moving TJ and his older sister Amber to a new school halfway through a year was more trouble than it was worth. Cyrus also remembers the grumpy way TJ wrote his letters during that time. It was one of the last few months they wrote letters before Cyrus’ parents caved and bought him a cellphone and texting became their go to instead of pen and paper.

“Right. School. Different schools,” Cyrus can’t stop his gloomy tone from filtering into his voice. TJ tosses an arm around Cyrus’ shoulders and guides him to the mini donut stand.

“Hey, if you somehow got a car to drive, you could come to see me every weekend,” TJ’s toothy smile makes Cyrus laugh. The last time he tried to drive to Turtle Creek was with his mom one week after getting his license. Cyrus had driven the car into a ditch and freaked out for twenty minutes straight before having his car privileges revoked for a year due to “excessive mental distress” or something. He jabs TJ in the ribs.

“Jerk.”

They buy a bucket of mini donuts and sit on a bench next to the log flume while stuffing their faces. Cyrus wipes crystals of sugar off TJ’s face and he smirks at him in return. The twisty feeling in Cyrus’ stomach is back and he tries to force it down.

He knows TJ is gay. He remembers the phone call from what’s now almost five years ago. He remembers TJ admitting his crush on the boy with fluffy brown hair and he remembers how he was stunned into silence because he felt the same way too. That, however, doesn’t seem to ever matter because, in the five years since TJ dropped his major truth bomb, Cyrus has yet to tell him that he’s gay.

Everyone else knows. Literally everyone. Even Walker, who after watching them for five minutes, turned to Jonah and asked “are they dating?” and Jonah had to answer “no because TJ doesn’t know he’s gay.” He’s come out to everyone they’re currently with, but not TJ. He doesn’t even have a good explanation. It would just be too weird after so long to bring it up. Especially when he knows after his disastrous seventh-grade fling with Iris that he could never like a girl again.

Somehow, when he looks at TJ like this though, no hint of any romantic chemistry or anything between them, he gets it. Telling him would change things. It always would.

Eventually, the rest of their friends filter back, Andi looking slightly greener than usual. Cyrus rubs her back in solidarity. They only have a few more minutes before Amber heads back to pick them up, and Marty is the one to suggest they try the Ferris Wheel. Andi shakes her head and votes to wait for Amber by the gate, her crush only slightly obvious, and Jonah and Walker follow along behind them. TJ extends a hand to Cyrus.

“Come on, Cy. I think you can handle this one.”

“Okay, Broccoli Boy,” TJ groans but still grins as Cyrus follows him. They pair up, as usual, Buffy and Marty arguing with each other as they hold hands and board the ride. TJ talks a blue streak in Cyrus’ ear about almost falling off the ride once and Cyrus has to lecture him about safety. Once they’re up in the air though, his heart thuds in his chest as he realizes just how close they’re sitting. TJ’s still talking but Cyrus is only focusing on how his lips curve around his smile and how TJ is just so damn pretty.

“Right?” Cyrus looked up in panic at TJ’s amused face.

“Huh?”

“I knew you weren’t listening to me,” TJ smirked.

“I was! I just happened to have zoned out right before your question.”

“Okay, what was I talking about?” Cyrus stays silent and TJ erupts into laughter.

“You’re a dork, dude.”

“Yeah, I know,” Cyrus shrugs before swallowing his nerves and tucking his head into TJ’s shoulder. TJ wraps his arm around Cyrus’ shoulder and he’s hit with the sudden yearning to yell “I’m gay!” from the rooftops. Not that he will. Maybe when he’s married and TJ’s the best man.

The ride ends soon after that, and the teens stumble together into Amber’s SUV that she stole from their mother, Jonah’s beat up truck and Andi’s bright yellow Jeep. Cyrus is saying goodbye to Marty when TJ bursts into their conversation.

“Hey, wanna sleepover? Not you,” he directs to Marty before refocusing on Cyrus. Cyrus’ eyes widen.

“Andi’s my ride.”

“I’ll drive you back tomorrow before work.” It’s the slight desperation in TJ’s eyes that makes Cyrus cave. He retracts his goodbye to Marty, they’ll be in the same car in like twenty minutes, and instead turns to say goodbye to the rest of his friends.

“Make a move, Goodman,” Buffy says in kind frustration as he hugs her goodbye.

“Never,” Cyrus smiles sweetly. He hugs Andi goodbye, checks his phone again to make sure that staying over is okay, and bounds back into Amber’s car. She grins at him in the rearview mirror.

“Hey, Cyrus!”

“Hey, Amber. When do classes start?”

“Next week, I move out on Saturday.”

“Cool,” Cyrus nods. Amber had graduated the year before and chosen to go to Drexel University for dance. They were all proud of her but Andi was mourning how far away she would be in Pennsylvania.

TJ slid into the front seat after completing a complicated handshake with Jonah and smiled deeply at Cyrus.

“Okay let’s go. Drop off Mr. The Party.”

“Still offended I’m not invited.”

Dear TJ,

Today I got pajamas with stegosauruses on them and I was so happy. My mom says they’re an early birthday present but my birthday is in three months so it seems kinda weird to me. Anyways, I also joined a science club with Andi. She joined to make pretty colors with chemicals and I joined to be smarter. Although I’m pretty sure all we mix is lemon juice and baking soda. How was your day? I hope you made th-

“I can’t believe you’re reading that,” TJ teased as he tossed a sleeping bag at Cyrus. Cyrus smiled and laid down his letter.

“I was a cute kid. I like to remember.” TJ laughed and pressed play on the John Mulaney special they were watching for the fourth time and settled back into his blanket mold. Cyrus joined him after unzipping the sleeping bag to lay on his legs.

“I can’t believe you kept those,” Cyrus shakes his head in disbelief. TJ gives him a look.

“Didn’t you?”

“Well yeah. But that’s my kinda thing. Not yours.”

“I have layers, Underdog,” the cliché nickname slipped through TJ’s lips smoothly and Cyrus blushed at remembering the day on the swings he had given it to him.

He loves remembering his friendship with TJ. It makes him feel more warm and fuzzy inside than usual. That’s part of the reason that he hides his sexuality like he does. He doesn’t want TJ to think he doesn’t trust him or that he wasn’t important enough to know. He doesn’t ever want TJ to think he doesn’t mean anything.

Instead of pressing him on his layers, or even talking about his own, Cyrus snuggles down and continued to laugh at the horse in a hospital sketch.

After all, he’s got some layers too.

taglist <3:

@illbeyourreasonwhy @tyrusflavoredtea @homosexualearthworm @proshipperandfangirl @bambikippen @unsteady-but-trying @sweet-cyrus @zooperx @ibroughtachallah @rellahad @cool-anonymous-tyrus-shipper

#tyrus #cyrus goodman #tj kippen #andi mack #buffy driscoll #amber #marty from the party #walker brodsky #jonah beck #tyrus fanfic #tyrusauchallenge #tyrus au challenge #fic #my writing #a to z

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