#bleyton fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

actuallylorelaigilmore · 7 years

Text

King And Queen Of The Weekend, Chapter 2: Time We Danced With The Truth

Peyton x Blaine, post-“Some Like It Hot Mess.” Part angsty fix-it-fic, part smut, with just a dash of songfic along the way for flavor. A plot bunny that would not be denied, this was heavily inspired by Lorde’s Melodrama, especially “Sober.”

Summary: Blaine’s turn. What happens when you and your ex both decide to drown your feelings rather than facing them...in the same bar, with an unoccupied piano? "No matter what can be said about the wasted potential that is Blaine Debeers, he is not and will never be exactly like his father, because the old man would never sidle up to a piano in a dive bar and start playing quietly for his own entertainment.”

Cross-posted on AO3; fun with tags + more notes can be found there.

“So even if I faked losing my memory, you wouldn’t be a little mad?”

“I don’t know. I’m just–I’m so happy right now.”

“I have good news. Major is going to get his memory back…and the good news doesn’t stop there. This is me. This version of me, small business owner, amateur lounge singer, guy that feels lucky every time you walk through that door.”

—-

Blaine keeps moving, on autopilot. What other choice does he have? The show must go on, right? He quits playing piano, though, when the customers complain. They want more upbeat music and he just…doesn’t care. He’s tired of faking it. Hello irony, oldest of friends.

It’s the brain biz instead, again. Scheming and clawing his way back to being king of the hill is what comes naturally, so that’s what he does, burying his feelings.

He’s a villain; they’re not supposed to have feelings anyway. Idiotic to have let himself believe otherwise.

Branching out suppliers while he tests the blue juice leads him south to a small town for the weekend. He could’ve sent Don E., but he wanted the distance. The time. Once business is concluded, he heads straight for a bottle.

The town’s only bar was easier to find than a solitary bottle of Jack, so he settles in a corner, sulking over his whiskey while the entire place seems to be filled with couples.

They kiss, they cuddle, they share shots like the world might end tomorrow–little do they know–and they’re everywhere, physical reminders that against all odds, he actually got the girl, only to lose her again.

Technically, he remembers, he’s lost her twice now. That’s when he decides this particular establishment isn’t doing him any favors and gets up to leave…until he sees the piano.

Much like a beautiful woman, he’s always had a hard time resisting the lure of a piano. His father disapproved of such a sentimental pastime, but his mother–and then grandfather–encouraged the lessons, and eventually, every session of putting his fingers to the keys felt like fighting back.

It still does, bringing solace along with the bittersweet memories of his mother’s hands on his and his grandfather teaching him old Irish ballads. No matter what can be said about the wasted potential that is Blaine Debeers, he is not and will never be exactly like his father, because the old man would never sidle up to a piano in a dive bar and start playing quietly for his own entertainment.

“Love and other moments are just chemical reactions in your brain, in your brain...and feelings of aggression are the absence of the love drug in your veins, in your veins...”

As song choices go, it’s a bit on the nose, but he’s half-drunk and moping over Peyton, much as he wishes he wasn’t, and it’s what comes to mind. Along with it comes more moping, because he came here to forget–but he can't.

She sparkled.

That was the thing about Peyton that had first tugged at him. From the beginning, underneath her professional demeanor and through all the dark, dismal events to follow, she glowed in a way that made him want to be near her.

If he simply wanted sex and conversation he could find a beautiful woman in a bar somewhere, without getting mixed up with the ADA whose help was crucial to his plan. Slipping her his card was as practical as it was invitational, given how well he knew Mr. Boss and the danger she was courting. Against his own interests, he cared that she might get hurt because of her involvement in this scheme of his.

He never thought she'd invite him to stick around after work, as it were, to get a little sloppy on fine whiskey and do very little talking. All he’d really wanted was a little flirtation and to get rid of Mr. Boss. But when he laid out the map for her and connected the dots, she just lit up at him and took his breath away.

That was unexpected.

She made him a little tongue-tied, awkward, slightly off his game. He had better lines, smoother moves, but facing her, he was more the teenage loser of his youth than the suave king he’d remade himself to be.

The worst part was, he liked it.

“Love come quickly, because I feel my self-esteem is caving in, it’s on the brink...”

Had anybody ever come so close to sweeping him off his feet? It was a silly thought for someone who’d made a name for himself as a killer and drug dealer, but Peyton just had this way about her, part warrior queen, part soft and warm and vulnerable. The way she entered an interrogation room and demanded his release, as though anyone she came into contact with should be expected to do nothing less than exactly what she commanded.

Maybe it was a lawyer thing; he wouldn’t know. But it was hot.

And though he’d never admit it to anyone, she tunneled right into his weak spot. All he’d managed to make of himself, out of his personal hell growing up, was a cliche. The poor little rich boy, the failed entrepreneur…the thief who barely managed to graduate to drug dealer on somebody else’s turf. Once his grandfather was locked up, long after his own mother didn’t think he was worth living for, Blaine just didn’t see the point. Survival he was good at, but believing he was worth something? He'd left that behind as soon as he was old enough to understand how much his own father hated him.

Peyton was the first person to try and protect him, to stand up for him, since he was a child. It was the strangest feeling, but not unwelcome. Instead it was terrifying, because he wanted to lean into it, accept it. Her hand on his back as she ordered his father to leave, snapping at Ravi and choosing him over Major, welcoming him into their home when she knew Liv wouldn’t.

Not to mention, how she exuded cool with her shields up, so different from the woman he’d parted ways with who’d still been flush and warm and relaxed from their spontaneous encounter in her office. It should have been awkward, when they pulled back and tugged their clothes into place and she smoothed down her couch cushions, but it wasn’t.

She had grinned at him, seeming totally at ease, possibly the most confidently sexy woman he’d ever met, and asked flippantly, “Catch you later?”

Her grin was contagious. “Well,” he’d replied, “I do have a previously scheduled appointment to go over evidence with this smokin’ hot attorney. Maybe we could hook up after that?”

“Sounds good.” She linked her arms behind his neck, leaning in for a long, slow kiss. “Tell me more about this attorney.”

“Hmm…” He let his gaze wander down her body and back up to her deep hazel eyes. “Well, she’s gorgeous, and smart, and brave...”

Peyton interrupted him. “Brave?”

“Definitely. Not just anybody would take on Mr. Boss, let alone face him solo in her office without caving in to the fear. He threatened you,” Blaine reminded her gently. “And you stuck.”

She shrugged. “It’s my job. I’m good at it.”

“That’s kinda my point. But it’s more than that. You’re in it for more than the title and salary. I can tell. You really want to get him–just for what he does to this fair city of ours. That’s an admirable quality.”

“Well, we share it.” She gestured at her outfit. “So. Do I look like someone who just had sex on government property?”

“Huh. Presuming I know what that looks like,” Blaine replied, “no. I think you’re good to go.”

Nodding, Peyton stepped back toward him for one last kiss. “Then I’ll see you around.”

“Love come quickly, because I don’t think I can keep this monster in, it’s in my skin...”

He almost went for it that night on the couch. He almost couldn’t help himself, his hands full of Peyton and everything he secretly wanted most beneath his new persona. He couldn’t do it, of course–what if she regretted it? he knew he would regret it–but he almost did before he managed to pull back.

He wasn’t exactly known for his impulse control, before her. But he really did want to be better. Worthy of her company, let alone her affection. Worth that smile she shot his way that warmed the darker parts of his soul.

She made him feel poetic.

There was nothing he could do about how damaged he was long before they ever met, or what he did before and after becoming a zombie. But he was just a man now, and he wanted a real chance with her. So he stopped it.

He spent the night tossing and turning on the couch, cold without her, and wishing he’d never lied in the first place.

“Love and other socially acceptable emotions are morphine, they’re morphine, cleverly concealing primal urges often felt but rarely seen, rarely seen...”

When she took his hand the next morning, and led him to her room, he couldn’t believe it. And he didn’t try to stop it. She chose him, knowing his past, knowing the new man he was trying so hard to be–her hands were in his hair, her lips were parted against his, and they were kissing in the muted daylight where it felt like a dream.

He didn’t ever want to wake up.

His old life and the new one where she treated him like a decent guy who she was interested in were worlds apart. Despite her best friend being a zombie, Peyton had managed to stay surprisingly untouched by the violence surrounding her. She fought the seedy underbelly of the city…and he belonged in it.

But not anymore. He’d gotten his second chance, and he was determined to keep earning it, every day with her. Standing in her sunny bedroom, he lifted her shirt up, letting his fingers trace her skin as it was exposed. She stretched into his touch and he wondered if she did yoga, then refused to get distracted by how sexy the idea of her doing yoga was.

He was such a lost cause when it comes to Peyton Charles, it was ridiculous.

Unlike the last time, Blaine didn’t ask if she was sure, because he knew her well enough to know that this wouldn’t be happening if she weren’t. Instead, he indulged, the way they didn’t during their fateful one-night stand, when things were too new and frantic and fueled by the risk of getting caught at any moment.

Now, he could take full advantage of the light warming her bronze skin, drinking in his fill of how she looked in her bra and soft cotton pjs, before he slid those down her endlessly long legs and followed them with kisses.

“God, you’re gorgeous.”

She was so beautifully responsive, angling toward his every touch, humming her appreciation. It made him want to stay with her for days, finding every sensitive spot and claiming it for himself.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she breathed back.

Peyton was already exploring him in return, dispatching his t-shirt and running her hands over his chest, leaning in toward him as her hands drifted lower.

Their lips met with excruciating slowness, neither of them rushing toward the bed. He traced her lips with his tongue, and when they parted she sighed. Then their tongues met eagerly while his fingers roamed down her back to caress her ass.

Her hand grazed him through his boxers and he jolted, growling against her mouth, their kisses growing more passionate. With an easy flick of his fingers, Blaine opened the front clasp of her bra and slid the straps off each shoulder.

They finally began inching toward the bed, still linked at the lips, her hands in his hair as the full length of her pressed against him. He kneeled next to her when they landed, running his hands over her chest and following his fingertips with his mouth.

Peyton moaned when he tugged lightly on one nipple and circled it with his tongue. He was stroking the other with his fingertips, shifting his legs so that one was between her knees and pressing against her. She rocked against him a little as their lips met and parted, breath growing thick and more desperate.

Her hands gripped his back, digging in as he continued to explore her, running his tongue along the crease of soft skin beneath her breast, then blowing lightly on her nipple before taking it back into his mouth.

Her hands moved up to his neck, running through his hair until he ceded control of the kiss to her, and she left him panting for breath. Then she was gripping his shoulders as his mouth found the curve of her neck and lingered there, leaving behind the faintest of marks.

She arched up toward him, nails digging into his skin, and he moved over, making room to slide down and let his mouth journey south. His lips left a heated trail down her taut stomach and over to her hip, where he planted a firm kiss that made her shiver.

Peyton released her grip on him and reached out to run her fingers along the waistline of his shorts. With her eyes closed, she waited until he leveraged himself up and then she tugged them off. He kicked them away, sucking in air as her hands found him and caressed the sensitive skin beneath his balls.

Blaine teased his fingers along the edge of her satin thong, then slid it aside to circle her clit with his fingers. Peyton started to shift along with his movements, quaking against the sheets.

“Oh, God. Blaine,” she murmured, taking him in her hand and stroking. His fingers kept moving against her until he was hard and ready, and their mouths clashed as he lifted himself.

She was wet and hot when he slid into her, and he found himself whispering endearments in her ear, just like the last time.

They moved together with an easy familiarity that didn’t make sense for only their second time, but he didn’t question it, straining with her toward their lush, convulsive peak. To Blaine, she felt like coming home.

“Love I beg you, lift me up into that privileged point of view, the world of two...”

Nothing she said was wrong. He was selfish, and greedy…and sad, most of all. He was angry at her for the way she tricked him into confessing–lied to him, led him into a trap–but he couldn’t muster up much enthusiasm for it, because he'd done far worse. And she was right.

He hadn’t been thinking about her friends, or making a fool of her, when his memories came back and he pretended they hadn’t. He’d been thinking about himself, which, once he had his memories back, he knew was what he always did. How he’d always been, before.

It took everything he had not to chase after her. Not to go looking, to make his case, the way he might with anybody else. But this was Peyton, who won arguments for a living, and he knew it would just make things worse. So he covered up the wound with jokes and business and liquor and tried to move on.

“Love don’t leave me, because I console myself that Hallmark cards are true, I really do...”

The liquor isn’t helping much. It never really does. Must be the Irish in him; drinking just makes him maudlin.

He sips again anyway, because he’s here and has nothing better to do, closing his eyes and remembering the way Peyton leaned back that first night, her skirt shifting and catching his attention when she crossed her legs. Her voice was sultry between sips, inviting--more intoxicating than the alcohol.

He’s not sure which is more of a tragedy, the fact that getting his memories back means he lost her, or the fact that having them means he remembers so clearly what he’s lost.

Putting his own flourish on the melody with one hand and sipping with the other, he catches movement in his peripheral vision that makes him dizzy.

He must be more drunk than he realizes, Blaine thinks, if he’s starting to hallucinate. This one isn’t exactly the way he would’ve imagined it, if he had a choice in hallucinations…which is how he knows he’s not that drunk.

Peyton’s come back to him, in all her fierce and shining glory–but she doesn’t look happy to see him. In fact, she seems just as stunned as he is, striding toward him with an accusatory finger outstretched.

He can’t help leaning into the chorus as their eyes meet, as she approaches without hesitation and all he can feel is the dull ache of missing her.

“I’m gunning down romance…it never did a thing for me, but heartache and misery—ain’t nothing but a tragedy.”

She carries herself like a fighter ready for the next round, despite her slightly glassy eyes and the tequila on her breath. If this is Peyton Charles on tequila, no wonder she wouldn’t tell him about it that first night.

She raises her voice over the piano he’s still playing, heedless of the heads that turn their way.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

#izombie #bleyton #bleyton fanfic #izombie fanfic #peyton x blaine #blaine x peyton #izombie fanfiction #izombie fic #bleyton fic #bleyton fanfiction #peyton x blaine fanfic #peyton/blaine #blaine x peyton fanfic #blaine/peyton #fanfiction #peyton charles #blaine debeers #my fic

12 notes · View notes

layeredsocks-blog · 6 years

Text

Blaine was highly aware of her in the otherwise empty club, but he continued going through his closing checklist. Peyton was at the club every night and it would've almost been easier to not see her at all. Because having her that close, for their eyes to meet across the table when he took her order or the smallest brush of fingers against skin all was a painful reminder of what he couldn't have.

“Blaine.” Her hand touched him and he turned, his heart leaping into his throat when he saw how close they were to each other. “Blaine, those guys--”

“Are right,” he finished for her, stepping away. “You can do a lot better than hanging around here every night.”

“Well, you aren't playing at the piano bar anymore,” she pointed out with a wry smile. “We could always go out, you know.”

“Right. You work for the mayor and I'm a drug dealing serial killer who runs a zombie club. How do you think that would go down?” He turned away without waiting for an answer.

Peyton was hurt and frustrated. She understood theirs was hardly an ideal situation, but it was something. And she felt like it could be more. He knew she wanted him and she knew he wanted her in return.

What if we rewrite the stars? Say you were made to be mine Nothing could keep us apart You'd be the one I was meant to find It's up to you and it's up to me No one can say what we get to be

“Hey.” She grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together. “I don't care what they think or how they'll look at us.” She tried leaning into him but he was evasive. Her grip on his hand tightened so that when he moved, he inadvertently pulled her along. She stumbled a little and he wrapped his other arm around her to keep her secure.

Peyton rested a hand on his chest. It felt like such a long time since she kissed him. The way he looked at her now, Peyton knew Blaine felt the same way as her.

“Doesn't matter,” he concluded with a shake of his head. “They'll care, and it won't be pretty.”

I know you're wondering why Because we're able to be just you and me Within these walls But when we go outside You're gonna wake up and see that it was hopeless after all

Peyton understood that he thought he was protecting her with all of this. And he had good reason to believe that: the line between zombies and humans was very solid. Even without them both being prominent figures, just being a zombie and a human in a relationship together was enough. There was hate and mistrust on both sides, disgust and fear.

It was just difficult to think of that when they were together. They were both very highly aware of the situation and their places in it.

All I want is to fly with you All I want is to fall with you So just give me all of you It feels impossible Is it impossible? Say that it's possible

Peyton slid her hand delicately along Blaine's jaw. She moved closer, their noses brushing. She could feel his breath on her lips. But Blaine didn't close the distance.

“I need to lock up,” he told her. “You should go. Liv's probably wondering where you are.” Just like that, he broke the spell and reminded both of them that the world was still moving. Peyton's heart was racing but she didn't try to push anymore tonight.

Blaine watched her walk out the door.

You know I want you It's not a secret I try to hide But I can't have you We're bound to break and my hands are tied

#bleyton #blaine x peyton #paine #music #i had to #angst #fanfic

10 notes · View notes

seraphjewel · 7 years

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: iZombie (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peyton Charles & Blaine DeBeers, Peyton Charles/Blaine DeBeers Characters: Peyton Charles, Blaine DeBeers Additional Tags: silliness, fun with alcohol, Fluff, obviously canon deviant Summary:

But what DOES happen when Peyton has tequila? Blaine wants to find out. I came up with this idea at work. Sometimes I just write dumb things for my own amusement. Hope you all like it!

#peyton charles #fanfic #blaine x peyton #Blaine Debeers #iZombie #bleyton #paine #otp: sunlight and shadow #shameless shipper

6 notes · View notes

thornyrosesbush-blog · 7 years

Link

Hey guys :-)

This is my iZombie fan fiction I'm currently creating and live for :D

It's gonna be pretty long. There is first chapter published so far, I'm probably going to add one more each day.

It's a romance/drama story about Blaine and my own fictional character, young journalist Jean Nixon (a little bit me :D).

Even if I'm a huge Bleyton shipper in the show, I decided to go a slightly different way. But Peyton is still a huge part of whole story. Hope you'll stay open to my idea and enjoy it anyways :-)

Please, note that I'm not a fluent english speaker, so I'm sorry for eventual mistakes.

I'll be glad for ANY reviews :-)

#blaine debeers #izombie #romance #drama #peyton charles #liv more #ravi chakrabarti #clive babineaux #fanfic

2 notes · View notes

nerdybubblebee · 7 years

Link

My first ever fanfic!!! Has to be a Bleyton one of course~

Summary: Little Blaine needs a friend. What better candidate than Peyton!

#bleyton #paine #blaine x peyton #peyton x blaine #peyton charles #blaine debeers #izombie #fanfiction

1 note · View note

waytoomanyhobbies · 4 years

Link

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: iZombie (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peyton Charles/Blaine DeBeers, Ravi Chakrabarti/Liv Moore, Blaine Debeers & Don Eberhard, Peyton Charles & Liv Moore Characters: Peyton Charles, Blaine DeBeers, Liv Moore, Ravi Chakrabarti, Don Eberhard Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Romance, Action, Angst, Redemption, Mutual Pining, Second Chances, Jane Austen Inspired Modern AU, Rejection, Regret, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Constipation, Zombie Cure Summary:

Being a hero was supposed to feel like being on top of the world, but what if at the same time you're saving a city you let you let pride, fear, and the opinions of others rob you of the person you love? In one moment Peyton Charles let happiness slip away. It's a moment she's come to regret bitterly.

Ultimately a modern take on Jane Austen's Persuasion, but starting with a massive action backstory to set the stage for Blaine's redemption and all the changes of a post cure world.

---------------------------------

Chapter 2 is up! The two year anniversary of the evacuation and zombie cure is approaching. Everyone has built a new life in a world that is forever changed, but events are drawing the heroes of Cure Day back together.

#bleyton #izombie #blaine debeers #peyton charles #peyton x blaine #peyton/blaine #fanfic #my fanfiction #fanfiction #paine #bleyton fanfic

8 notes · View notes

waytoomanyhobbies · 6 years

Link

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: iZombie (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peyton Charles/Blaine DeBeers, Ravi Chakrabarti/Liv Moore Characters: Blaine DeBeers, Peyton Charles, Liv Moore, Ravi Chakrabarti Additional Tags: Drama & Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Amnesia, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Summary:

"Blaine? It's Liv. There's been an incident, and I need you to come to the hospital. It's Peyton."

When Angus's bloody rampage through City Hall leaves Peyton battered and missing her memories of the last six months, Liv reaches out to Blaine with a request he can't refuse--even if he has to turn himself inside out emotionally to do it. But what will happen to Blaine and Peyton's bittersweet happiness...? Because no lie can last forever.

Third chapter is up, and we get Clive in this chapter! It's a loooooong one, but that's just where the chapter break fit. I held this one a little longer because some action spills into the next chapter, and I didn't want to post anything that might need to be edited later.

#bleyton #izombie #blaine debeers #peyton charles #peyton x blaine #peyton/blaine #paine #bleyton fanfic

2 notes · View notes

waytoomanyhobbies · 6 years

Link

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: iZombie (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peyton Charles/Blaine DeBeers, Ravi Chakrabarti/Liv Moore Characters: Blaine DeBeers, Peyton Charles, Liv Moore, Ravi Chakrabarti Additional Tags: Drama & Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Amnesia, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Summary:

"Blaine? It's Liv. There's been an incident, and I need you to come to the hospital. It's Peyton."

#izombie #bleyton #blaine debeers #peyton charles #peyton x blaine #peyton/blaine #paine #bleyton fanfic #my fanfic

12 notes · View notes

waytoomanyhobbies · 6 years

Link

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: iZombie (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peyton Charles/Blaine DeBeers, Peyton Charles & Liv Moore Characters: Peyton Charles, Blaine DeBeers, Liv Moore, Mistress P Additional Tags: Light BDSM, Eventual Smut, Communication Failure, Past Child Abuse, Feelings, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Zombie Blaine DeBeers, Blaine DeBeers Has Trust Issues, Humans and Zombies Doing Stuff, Canonical Child Abuse, Blaine DeBeers gets triggered, Erotica, Shameless Smut, Anal Play, Oral Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Mutual Masturbation Summary:

When Peyton decides to show Blaine her Mistress P routine things don’t go as she expected, but Peyton has never been the type to give up. She sets out to show him just how pleasurable trust can be.

————————–

Chapter 2 is posted, and it’s a smutty one!

#izombie #bleyton #blaine debeers #peyton charles #peyton x blaine #peyton/blaine #paine #bleyton fanfic #my fanfic

5 notes · View notes

waytoomanyhobbies · 6 years

Link

Chapters: 4/4 Fandom: iZombie (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peyton Charles/Blaine DeBeers Characters: Peyton Charles, Blaine DeBeers, Liv Moore, Angus McDonough, Ravi Chakrabarti Additional Tags: Vertigo movie spoilers, Dreams and Nightmares, Unrequited Ravi, Strong Suicidal Themes, Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, iZombie Spoilers through 3x04 Summary:

Peyton liked the film Vertigo better before her life started to resemble it. Now she's finding herself embroiled in a mystery where her heart might be the key to everything.

And there we go. This one is finally complete. Hope folks enjoy the ride. It was lots of fun to do.

#izombie #bleyton #peyton charles #blaine debeers #peyton x blaine #paine #peyton/blaine #peyne #bleyton fanfic #my fanfic

5 notes · View notes

waytoomanyhobbies · 6 years

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: iZombie (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Peyton Charles/Blaine DeBeers Characters: Peyton Charles, Blaine DeBeers Additional Tags: Snowed In, On the Run, Sharing a Bed, Drama & Romance, Fluff and Angst, Action & Romance, This Is Your Blaine on Brains, A Cannibal?, Technically… I Suppose, posing as a married couple Summary:

On the run for their lives Blaine and Peyton find themselves trapped in a snowy motel with a single bed. How will they work through their differences in such close quarters? Do they even have a choice if they want to survive?

#izombie #bleyton #peyton x blaine #peyton charles #blaine debeers #paine #bleyton fanfic #my fanfic #this was a big mamajama #you might want to bring snacks #peyton/blaine

5 notes · View notes

waytoomanyhobbies · 6 years

Link

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: iZombie (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peyton Charles/Blaine DeBeers, Peyton Charles & Liv Moore Characters: Peyton Charles, Blaine DeBeers, Liv Moore, Mistress P Additional Tags: Light BDSM, Eventual Smut, Communication Failure, Past Child Abuse, Feelings, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Zombie Blaine DeBeers, Blaine DeBeers Has Trust Issues, Humans and Zombies Doing Stuff, Canonical Child Abuse Summary:

When Peyton decides to show Blaine her Mistress P routine things don't go as she expected, but Peyton has never been the type to give up. She sets out to show him just how pleasurable trust can be.

#izombie #bleyton #peyton x blaine #blaine debeers #peyton charles #peyton/blaine #pain #bleyton fanfic #my fanfic #my fanfiction #mistress p

3 notes · View notes

waytoomanyhobbies · 6 years

Text

This is for @jewelishness for the lyrics prompt request Bleyton and number 46: “I never claimed to be a saint.” I hope you like it.

************

The weapon still felt strange and clumsy in her hands as Peyton pressed herself against the black wall of the tire maze and listened for any warning that her enemy was approaching. Were those footsteps or the pounding of her own heart in her ears? Was the breathing that sounded so harsh and loud her own or his? She knew that he was toying with her. She’d seen what he was capable of first hand. She’d seen him shoot the four men who meant to kill her and him both–saw him shoot them each straight through the heart with incredible precision. She also knew that even if he was trying to give her a fighting chance it was going to take something unexpected from her to win against him. Her gaze flickered upwards to the basement ceiling and the flourescent lights hanging above them.

Peyton tried to remember where the breaker box was located, as she slunk between two desk sized inflatable barriers. Her hopes were buoyed by sounds from the far corner, suggesting that Blaine was currently making his way through Floyd’s office. Blaine had built the layout of the maze to represent the layout of her offices after she’d told him about all the threats that the city government had been receiving since the wall went up. Surely, she could use her familiarity with the surroundings to her advantage. It was ostensibly the point of the layout afterall.

*****************

Blaine dropped into a crouch with a muffled “hmph” as the lights above him went out, pitching him into complete darkness. His first instinct was to call out to Peyton and ensure she was okay, but this was obviously her handiwork. There was nobody else in the room with them, and the absence of a surprised cry from her was damning proof. There was nothing he could do but feel and stumble his way through the dark to the breakers, and somewhere along the way Peyton was lying in wait for him listening for the noise of his approach. It was a clever ploy, if he did say so himself.

Blaine crept along the left-hand wall, feeling his way as he moved carefully towards the power box from memory. He held his drawn gun pointed upwards and ready to bring to bear. Every turn that didn’t end in ambush was both a relief and the burden of knowing the attack was still to come. It came as he entered the mockup of the reception area, a barrage of paintless paintballs assailed him bouncing off his goggles, his torso, and his arms as he tried to duck towards the cover of the “receptionist’s desk”. The shots were wild, but numerous enough that many of them hit. The rubber balls pelting off his body stung.

“All right! You win! You win!” Blaine yelled. He could hear Peyton’s victory whoop as he left his paintball gun with her and headed towards the breakers. Peyton was shielding her eyes but still celebrating when he turned back towards her and slid his goggles off. “You stole my moves,” Blaine drawled with a placid grin.

“I never claimed to be a saint,” Peyton smirked. “I stole your move… but it was a good move.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and she flicked her eyebrow upwards.

“Oh, I’m not upset. I’m impressed. The point is survival and self-defense. Seize anything that gives you an advantage. Might have to get you some nightvision goggles,” Blaine answered, his voice growing thoughtful.

His soft eyes raked over her, and his cheek crinkled into a dimple as his lips drew upward on one side. “Just keep in mind that if you’d been using the tranquilizer gun that dosage might have been okay for a zombie, but for a human it would probably defeat the purpose of having a non-lethal weapon in the first place.”

“I wasn’t fighting a human though. I was fighting you,” Peyton pointed out. She paused, her gaze growing heavy. She slid her fingers between his, and Blaine dropped his eyes to look at their linked hands. He straightened as she rested her head against his shoulder. She felt his gaze come to rest upon her face and looked back into his questioning eyes. “Thank you,” she said simply, “…for all of this. Thank you.”

#bleyton #izombie #blaine debeers #peyton charles #peyton x blaine #peyton/blaine #paine #peyne #blayton #bleyton fanfic #my fanfic

5 notes · View notes

waytoomanyhobbies · 7 years

Text

Fear of Falling Chapter 3 Is Up!

Fear of Falling (12375 words) by SFDoll Chapters: 3/? Fandom: iZombie (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peyton Charles/Blaine DeBeers, Peyton Charles & Blaine DeBeers Characters: Peyton Charles, Blaine DeBeers, Liv Moore, Angus McDonough, Ravi Chakrabarti Additional Tags: Vertigo movie spoilers, Dreams and Nightmares, Unrequited Ravi, Strong Suicidal Themes, Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, iZombie Spoilers through 3x04 Summary:

Peyton liked the film Vertigo better before her life started to resemble it. Now she’s finding herself embroiled in a mystery where her heart might be the key to everything.

#bleyton #izombie #peyton charles #blaine debeers #peyton/blaine #blayton #bleyton fanfic #my fanfic

4 notes · View notes

actuallylorelaigilmore · 7 years

Text

King And Queen Of The Weekend, Chapter 1: Different Drinks At The Same Bars

Summary: What happens when you and your ex both decide to drown your feelings rather than facing them...on the same weekend, in the same small town? “Most of the time she appreciates being able to drink just about anybody under the table, but when all she wants is to forget her own name until morning, her high threshold is a pain in the ass.”

Cross-posted on AO3; fun with tags + more notes can be found there.

You’ve made a fool of me. This whole time, my friends could’ve been cured. Liv could’ve been human for months. You’re a sad, selfish, greedy man.”

“Wait. What happened to, ‘It didn’t matter how we got here?’”

“I’m a lawyer, Blaine. I shouldn’t be trusted.”

----

Peyton is spacing out at work, lost behind her efficient mask. She’s so angry at Blaine for lying, even more furious at herself for falling for it–for wanting to believe it, queen of denial–and she feels so guilty for the part she played in Blaine, well, playing them all.

It’s too much at once. She’s drowning.

The worst part is not being able to lean on her friends. How much she misses Blaine is the last thing they would want to hear about right now.

Maybe that’s the worst part, actually: how much she does miss him, even while she completely hates him, too.

So she is exhausted and more than ready for a vacation when her cousin invites her down the coast to use his beach house for the weekend. It isn’t like her to actually take time off, but Baracus practically shoves her out the door, wanting her refreshed for his campaign.

Dylan left the key under the mat along with a note that just says ‘Hey. The Sand Dollar is good. Love.’ That’s his code for “Hello. There’s not much fun to be had around here, but The Sand Dollar is your best bet if you need it. Love ya, cousin.”

Sneaking away without inviting anybody else along had seemed like a good idea at the time, but as soon as Peyton drops her bag on the couch and listens to the windy silence, she knows she'll go crazy just lying around for two days. She’ll spend all her time thinking about what she came to escape.

Who, her treacherous brain corrects her, which she ruthlessly ignores.

She heads for The Sand Dollar, which turns out to be a seedy bar just off the beach, full of handsy, stoned locals and drunk kids on spring break.

Obviously it isn’t her scene–not the kind of place you’d ever expect to find Peyton Charles, Assistant DA to the aspiring mayor of Seattle. But it is dark, and secluded, and has plenty of alcohol…which tonight, she decides, will be just fine.

She takes a seat at the bar with Lyft at the ready–in this day and age, who needs friends when an app can send you a designated driver?–and signals to the bartender.

“Tequila,” Peyton tells him. Ready for that escape, she lets the flashbacks hit her the way the liquid hits the shot glass, slow and warm. They’ll be washed away soon enough.

Shot #1.

Reckless normally didn’t suit her, and even the people who knew her best–especially them–would’ve been shocked by her behavior, but she didn’t care. Aching lately, intrigued by this man who had confounded her expectations from the moment they met, and loosened up by the whiskey, Peyton deliberately turned off the critical-thinking side of her brain and gave in to the sensation of his body pressing hers into the couch.

Her office couch, where she spent so many late nights stressing over the Mr. Boss case as potential CIs declined her offers; the place where she’d sunk down, shaking and pretending she wasn’t scared, after Mr. Boss himself had threatened her and waltzed out unnoticed. A place her hyper-professional self would never have invited over anyone she was dating for drinks, let alone started making out with them.

Let alone…dear lord, he had amazing hands. It had been too long since she was touched, such a long time since she let herself be open to it, vulnerable. But Peyton trusted him, a former lowlife drug dealer of all people, because he’d given her no reason not to. Instead he came to soothe her nerves and held back when she gave him every flirtatious opening.

“You’re sure?” he paused to ask when things got more heated, his own speech a little slurred. Her nod seemed to be enough for him, as he searched her eyes for consent and got her hand pulling him back toward her by the nape of his neck.

Shot #2.

His fingers stroked down her back while he murmured in her ear, more words about how gorgeous she was, how much he wanted her, how he’d been drawn to her from the moment they met. She lifted up her own shirt, wanting to ask him to hurry, please, to just keep going, but she couldn’t find the ability to speak.

The pressure building inside her normally would’ve alarmed her, so intense so quickly, with someone she didn’t know that well. It was that charming, self-aware grin and those insanely blue eyes that made her stomach muscles twitch, contrasted with his trying-too-hard hair and slightly hesitant moves. The combination made him seem more sweet than cocky, someone who she believed when he said he wanted to atone.

She bit back a moan when he shifted, his lips against the bare skin of her throat. “God, don’t stop,” she said, and then his hands were stroking over her black satin bra, cupping her as she arched against him.

Tugging his shirt off and trailing her fingers down his chest, she enjoyed the way he shivered. Their skin was slick where it met, her bare legs entwined with his, everything too hot and bright and slow.

“Oh, God.” His tongue was circling her nipple even as his hands traveled lower. Eyes shut to the sensations, her breathing hitched when he slid a hand down her leg, then under her skirt and across the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

She unbuttoned him with her eyes still shut. His mouth was teasing against hers as he stroked his fingertips along the lace edges of her underwear.

She was wet and ready by the time she tugged his pants down. Balanced precariously against the cushions, he slid into her, the two of them shuddering in unison. Then they were moving together, faster and faster, the tension building, until he came on top of her while she was still shaking from her own climax.

Wondering to herself if they’d just permanently dented her fancy office furniture, she started giggling in her post-coital glow. With his face buried in her hair, he didn’t even ask why she was laughing.

Shot #3.

“Can’t we just stay here all day?” Blaine was idly curling her hair around one of his fingers while the sun streamed through the gauzy curtains. Seattle had a terrible reputation for rain and general gloom, but every once in a while its residents caught a perfect spring morning.

How long had it been since she felt so utterly relaxed? Just being around new-and-improved-Blaine made it easier for her to take a mental step back from all the apocalyptic drama, so after their second night together as a sort-of-couple, Peyton knew just how he felt.

“Mm, I wish,” she replied, arching back a little against his chest. “Gotta get up, though. Brush my teeth…eat…do people stuff.”

“Ah. Yeah, that stuff.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, then just rested his nose in the curve of it and lingered there.

“Blaine.”

“Hmm?”

“Getting up. Remember?”

“Right.” He moved his lips up the line of her neck, grinning when she hummed in approval. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Breakfast time,” she informed him. “I’m starving.”

“Okay,” he agreed with a yawn. “Who’s cooking?”

Catching her look, Blaine raised an eyebrow. “What, you don’t think I know how?”

“Well, not to cast aspersions on your boarding school upbringing, but the only thing I know you used to know how to cook was brains. Anyway, this is my apartment. I didn’t expect you to offer.”

Sitting up, he watched her slide out of bed. “It seems only fair. Tell you what: you cook today, and I’ll be up next time. Who knows, maybe I’ll surprise you.”

Shot #4

She ended it. Both times, she got to hold onto at least that little bit of control. Or pride. For whatever good it did.

The first time, as enraged and disgusted as she was, she couldn’t quite keep eye contact. He was a literal monster and yet there was real hurt in his expression. Disappointment, too. She couldn’t believe in it, but that didn’t mean she didn’t see it.

The second time was worse.

Now, she knew him. His family history and why he seemed so fragile sometimes, his ability to be truly sweet and selfless and silly. So the second time, when she left him there in his office, looking as lost and stunned as she felt, Peyton knew she was breaking his heart. What he had of one, anyway.

Because that was what happened when you really put your trust in someone, especially when it was messy and difficult and they were maybe the last person you should trust, and then they made you regret it.

They broke your heart…and you owed them the same.

Shot #5

She’s not drunk yet, though she’s finally starting to head in that direction. Most of the time Peyton appreciates being able to drink just about anybody under the table, but when all she wants is to forget her own name until morning, her high threshold is a pain in the ass.

So she’s about to signal to the bartender to pour again, or maybe just leave the bottle, when she catches something through the chatter of the crowd that makes her freeze in place, head tilting to hear it better over the flirting and dancing and rousing arguments that surround her.

Damn it, she would recognize that silky, melancholy voice anywhere.

Of all the bars on all the beachfronts, Blaine had to walk into hers.

3 notes · View notes