#in that moment he was too drunk (and gay) to function | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

invisibleraven · 2 years

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from the best friends to lovers prompts: "you're upset and disappear for a couple hours, and i'm the only one who knows where to find you (which is at the location we always hung out at as children)" for peterpatter please? ☺️

Warnings for implied/referenced homophobia

After years of friendship with Luke, Reggie is used to getting phone calls from him at all hours of the day. So he doesn't think much of it when his phone goes off almost on the wrong side of midnight one evening.

"Yo man, what's up?"

"Reginald, this Emily Patterson, is Luke with you?"

Reggie flushed and let out a little cough. "Oh, no. sorry Mrs. P, I haven't seen Luke all day."

Emily sighed. "Yes, neither have I. If he ends up with you, can you please let him know I'm worried? I just want to talk to him, make sure he's okay." Then she whispered, almost like it wasn't for Reggie's ears, "I just want to say sorry."

"I'll let him know ma'am." With that the call ended, and Reggie knew that he had to go find Luke. After fighting with his mom, he always got stubborn and his away, sneaking in and out for a few days until the argument was forgotten.

The problem was where to find Luke.

The studio was being fumigated, so that was out. Bobby was on a vacation with his lola, and none of them tried Alex's house anymore, not after how badly his coming out went.

Luke wasn't a fan of breaking and entering, so usual places like the arcade or the mall were no goes. Finally Reggie pulled on his leather jacket and looked out his window, pondering when he saw the light from the ancient treehouse in his backyard.

He and the guys had built the treehouse when he first moved to LA, and spent many a boisterous afternoon there until they discovered music and moved their hang outs to the garage. Alex had been relieved, not really trusting the carpentry skills of four ten year olds, always terrified the floor would collapse from under them. But here they were, almost eight years later, and the rickety thing was still standing.

Reggie shimmied out his window, thankful his parents were either asleep or too drunk to notice him slipping out in the middle of the night. The ladder to the treehouse gave an ominous creak as he started to scale it, but with a gulp, Reggie kept climbing.

"Was wondering how long it would take someone to find me," Luke commented when Reggie's head popped up through the hole. "Let me guess, my mom called and I'm in big trouble?"

Reggie pulled himself up into the small space, wondering if it always felt so cramped up here, if it had always groaned when his weight shifted, and if the light from Luke's little lantern made the ambience more spooky or intimate.

"She's worried man. Said something about being sorry?" Reggie offered.

"Huh," Luke said, after a moment. "Will wonders never cease? Didn't think she was capable of feeling that particular emotion."

"What was the fight about this time?"

"What is it ever about dude? Music, it always comes back to music. My grades are low because I'm too focused on playing. Chores aren't done, or they aren't good enough because I lost track of time writing. I come out, and it's rock and roll's corrupting influence," Luke ranted.

"You came out to your parents before telling any of us?" Reggie asked, mildly hurt. They told each other everything, first and foremost. Alex had a near panic attack telling them he was gay, but their reaction had bolstered him to tell his parents, despite their less than stellar reaction. Bobby had let them know he wasn't interested in anyone, and didn't think he ever would be, and they found a way to tell Celia together.

"It wasn't exactly planned," Luke grumbled. " They got on my case about taking some nice girl from church to some stupid social function, and I told them I was much more interested in dating... well not her. I told them I like everyone, regardless of gender, but right now my heart belonged to someone specific, and that someone was a guy. My mom didn't react well. So I ran."

Reggie blew out a breath, and opened his arms to Luke, who rushed into them, the two of them holding each other tight, and stilling when the treehouse groaned and creaked once more. "Shit, that sucks dude. I always thought your parents would be cool about it."

Luke sniffled at that. "So did I. Maybe if I had done it another way... now it's forever tainted. I dunno."

They sat there in silence for a moment, and Reggie smirked as Luke looked up at him. "So... who's the lucky guy? Is it Alex? Oooh, no, it's Sven from the Satellite isn't it? Or maybe that cute drummer from that band we opened for last month.... Lyle? Kyle? Whatever. Or maybe the silver fox who owned that club we tried to get coerced into playing for what amounted to our souls?"

Luke laughed at that, but sobered quickly, his gaze serious as he looked at Reggie. "No, none of them."

"Then who?"

Luke cocked his head to the side, "Reg... don't you know it's you?"

"Me?" Reggie squeaked. "B-but... you've never said anything!"

Luke shrugged at that. "I'm saying now. I like you Reggie. I want to be with you. Go on dates, kiss you goodnight, be the most epic duet together."

Reggie slumped his head into his hands at that. "Only you would confess to liking someone with a music analogy."

"So..." Luke trailed off, biting his lip and clenching his fists.

"Of course I like you too Luke! I've liked you for forever, but I didn't want to mess with the dynamic of the band, so I just shoved it down. I never thought... that you could ever like me back."

At that, Luke threw himself into Reggie's arms, knocking the two of them down into a giggling embrace. The treehouse gave the loudest groan yet, and the two of them shared a concerned look. "Okay, I vote we get out of here before this thing collapses with us inside of it," Reggie proposed. Luke nodded and the two of them scrambled down the ladder.

No sooner were they on the ground and half way back to Reggie's house when the treehouse creaked and with a shuddering BOOM, fell into pieces, littering the yard. Luke and Reggie watched the frame tumble to the ground with sober expressions.

"Well that's the end of an era," Luke commented.

Reggie reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers. "That's okay, we can always build a new one. New era, new treehouse."

"So what now?" Luke asked, swinging their hands between them.

"Well unless that woke up my folks, I say we go inside, and call your mom. And tomorrow, you take me out on our first date," Reggie suggested.

Luke grinned, and leaned in to press a chaste peck to Reggie's cheek, then started pulling him towards Reggie's window. Giddy for what was to come, even with their past in a crumbling mess behind them, Luke had nothing but hope for the future.

#filled prompts #ficlet #ruke #peterpatter #julie and the phantoms

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nobrakes · 3 years

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drunk max. that’s it that’s the post.

#max verstappen #f1 #mv33 #content*#gifs #yes the quality is kind of shitty not my fault the bestie who was filming took a while to get the focus right #thinking about how this is a direct sequel to the plane footage of max's bday #him getting shitfaced with daniel by his side only to get home and see a fcking surprise for him sksksksks #in that moment he was too drunk (and gay) to function

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postmodernmulticoloredcloak · 3 years

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I decided to watch the Walker pilot so you don’t have to. #1

I don’t know why I’m doing this, but I’m doing this and the more I put it off the less I’ll want to do this. So. Let’s start.

The fist thing we see is Jared Padalecki, em Walker, driving. He’s vaguely smiling and there’s the sun behind him. He seems happy. He’s driving a truck, for some reason my mind goes to Twilight. I’d rather watch that. At least there are vampires (not dressed like clowns) there. Anyway. Walker is meeting someone. He’s meeting his wife! “Look at you!” she says. The camera makes us look at him. He looks like this

I am unsure whether we’re supposed to see this as sexy or cool. It looks frankly ridiculous. I don’t know if I’m just not American enough to appreciate the aesthetic of this. But I didn’t go through 15 seasons of Americana-in-British-Columbia for nothing. If a character appeared like this on Supernatural, it wouldn’t be presented seriously. It would be played for a chuckle or in a light-hearted way at least. Not even Dean Winchester would find this hot.

The Padaleckis tell something to each other. Apparently he needs to go home with the kids and his parents because it’s game night. My mind immediately goes to Game Night the episode and I am sad now. But Walker lifts my mood in its own weird way. He doesn’t know the rules because every time she tells him the rules, he blacks out. I would make a fun quip about this, but the truth is that I relate to him a lot right now because I blacked out during the entire scene. I’m not sure what they said other than the game thing because I wrote it here. I already forgot the rest.

Anyway. What we’re supposed to get from this scene that they’re Very In Love (see that soft warm light?), and that he’s anxious because he’s not great at being a father because he’s shit at games apparently, but his wife is like ~don’t worry so much~ because she’s a kind, understanding wife. He tells her to be safe, because the Texan countryside is dangerous or something. She needs to stay on a route he approved for some reason. Is she traveling with supersoldier serum in her car? Is Hydra going to murder her? [cue the Marvel snipers shooting me to death because they don’t want Marvel to be associated to this]

Later, everyone is having fun playing fake monopoly, but Walker (whose mannerism is just Jared, he’s not even trying) is apparently too stupid to understand a game for kids. Plot twist, this is anti-cop propaganda because it says cops are dumb.

“Et tu Brute” Jared says when the kids point out he broke a rule so they get an extra turn. I thought I was safe from hearing Jared speak Latin! I thought I was safe! I am never safe!

Emily (Gen) suddenly texts him “SOS. Answer” which is OMINOUS! Oh my god! Aren’t you feeling the tension. The rest of the family keeps playing fake monopoly. Someone throws dice. Are we supposed to go “oh! The dice are ~symbolic because someone’s playing dice with her life” or have I been watching too much good tv.

She is running somewhere in the countryside, wearing a white shirt (is this the cowboy lady equivalent of the Wife Nightgown?). She says something is not right. He’s worried. Then he hears gunshot and her scream. He does the Alarmed Jared face, presses lips together and does a Upset Jared face.

Then he goes out, tries to call her again, and again, does a Jared Upset Sniff--

Oh! We actually see her! She’s alive, but she’s been shot in the stomach. Her white shirt is definitely the cowboy lady equivalent of the Wife Nightgown! Ah the blood coming from the stomach! How terrible! Her phone is ringing but she cannot reach it. She is definitely alive right now, though. She’s breathing heavily because of the wound, which is breathing, which is the opposite of being dead.

He decides that she’s dead, and lets out the already infamous manly scream of anguish.

It would be sad if it wasn’t that literally one second ago we saw her wounded but alive. Her turning out alive in the season finale or so will shock everyone. Nobody will have seen it coming. Who wrote this? They should have just shown the ringing phone and her bloody hand/side, making the audience assume she was dead, instead of showing her breathing. Now the audience is gonna assume she didn’t actually die, and wonder “why didn’t he call someone or went looking for her” but apparently Jared’s characters have forgotten that, like, ambulances are a thing. Jared’s manly screams of anguish are more important than common sense.

I’m not going to say anything about the manly scream of anguish. I’m not going to say anything about the manly scream of anguish. I’m n

We’re just 4 minutes in, guys. Why am I doing this?

Eleven months later, says the screen.

It’s night, outside a house. The son is waiting for him. The daughter doesn’t think he’s coming. On the porch there are two men, one is his brother and one is apparently his former partner, now new boss. He’s dressed like you’d expect a normal person to be dressed in a casual Texan night, hat and tie and all. If you are law enforcement in Texas and don’t wear a cowboy hat at any moment, you will be executed. That’s what the death penalty in Texas is for.

Somebody arrives, but to the kids’ disappointment is some dude whose function is to tell us the men’s names. The brother is Liam, the cop dude I forgot.

Walker is being sad on the back of his truck and drinking alcohol, which is the only way television can express a man having trauma. Holy shit - he reminisces of his wife like this is some emotional Lord of the Rings scene in a place where Elves live except this is not the Lord of the Rings and is just ridiculous, look

She’s seen running towards the gazebo, then she turns

This is exactly shot like the scene where Arwen has a vision of her son. Flowy hair and all. I cannot take this seriously.

He smiles sadly. Then a cop car arrives.

Mexican Lady Cop(TM), whose function in the story is to be a Mexican Lady Cop(TM) asks for his licence since he’s drinking alcohol in a public place.

“You ask so nicely” drunk Walker says. Ew. “Yeah, they train the girls special” Oh! Can you see? She is the Feminist Icon who Takes No Shit from the Dude! I’m so excited. I am slowly losing the will to live.

She drives him home on the police car. His legs don’t fit. At least this is realistic.

He does exposition in the car, including “I needed to visit a ghost instead”. There-there was no need to say it. What’s the demographic they’re aiming for? Five year olds? Do they have to spell everything out loud?

“It’s been a while since I had an actual conversation” he says, which supposedly explains why he’s making awkward exposition, but it’s just bad writing. At least they acknowledge it’s bad writing.

She figures he’s law enforcement coming back from an undercover mission from some drunken ramble he makes. This is worse than the Sherlock phone cable port thing.

She says she just got promoted from state trooper, ehe she will work with him wink wink nudge nudge. Is she going to be a cop-buddy-character slash love interest except when they’re almost about to realize they’re into each other, his wife comes back and draa~ama? I can already see it.

He goes home, makes some Jared grunts, and falls asleep on the couch.

Next morning, he goes out and jogs to where he left the truck. He puts on a cowboy hat which is supposed to be an artistic shot.

I’m slowly dying. He makes some Jared Deep Breaths, at least this made me laugh.

Wait, he’s now wearing a black hat. He’s in mourning, see? What.

He drives to his father’s ranch. His father is Super Not Impressed. It’s awkward. They took about horses. Mitch Pileggi is thinking that at least the other show was more exciting and there was Jensen Ackles in it.

He gets into his parents’ house and the dogs run to him, he does the Jared Dog Chuckle. He hugs his mom. He hugs his son - “August, my boy!” he says, like a normal person his age says.

He hugs his brother and they joke-wrestle and he says “I’m still the big brother” and did I mention I’m dying inside. I just can tell this is SUPPOSED to be reminiscent of Dean and Sam’s first meeting at Stanford in the pilot except Jared is the big brother now. Ew.

We learn that the brother is a DA and gay. All pilots suffer from Forced Exposition Syndrome but it’s like this isn’t even trying.

He goes to work and hugs (very manly hug of course) his friend-now-boss, who is called James. James asks him if he’s good and he’s like yeah I’m good, which our I’m Fine Lie Moment #1. Some things never change.

Enter the case of the week - a cop offered roadside assistance but he was assaulted. We’re already starting with a “Oh No Poor Cop :( Someone Doesn’t Like Cops And Gets Violent” plot. Yay.

Ta-da! Mexican Lady Cop appears, cowboy hat and all. James says she’s Walker’s new partner. My heart cries while Walker says “figured you’d be a guy” and she replies “so did my mom”. The feminism is so strong :’) She’s such a strong female character :’) I’m so happy :’)

Then Walker makes such a quintessential Jared thing with his mouth that I need to stop this here and take a break.

It’s been 13 minutes. So much still to go. I’m bored. Why am I doing this.

#cw's jared: legit texan #marghe watches walker for some darned reason

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simsadventures · 3 years

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Gilded: Chapter 3: Power Over Me

Mobster!Steve x Reader

Summary: What more can you do than have a rad bachelorette party and then move to a house full of mobsters. It all sounds fun, right? Well, not according to your experience.

Warnings: mobster AU, drinking, swearing, surveillance, angst, smidge of fluff, violence, mention of bruises, fear

Word Count: 5737

A/N: A little late, I know I know, but I wanted to make sure the chapter was exactly how I wanted it. I keep thinking I will get to the wedding, and then some situations occur and I know I have to concentrate on them a little more. Than being said, I think we will finally see the wedding next! What do you think of this part? Did you like it? Is the reader a little less annoying? Let me know xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

< Previous Chapter

The scene was supposed to be joyous, but, for some reason, the majority of what you felt was filled with sadness. Not for any particular reason, it was just the weigh of your decision finally settling in your heart and the realization hitting you that you would indeed be getting married in a week to a total stranger, who was a mobster, none less.

You chose it, you had to remind yourself as tears fought their way in your eyes. It was just momentary sadness overpowering you, the feeling that your wedding wouldn’t be filled with people loving and caring for you, that the day would be more about showing off Steve’s power over the world than showing his love for his new bride, for whom he had none. And you would be there almost alone: no parents, no extended family, and a very few close friends. Whom you loved dearly, of course, and without whom you wouldn’t even be considering taking such a step. You needed them there, and not just the two lovable idiots you lived with.

It was also people you’ve come to love during your university years as well as some coworkers, like Christy and Anja. Together it made around 15 people, which was actually a lot more than you had anticipated, but still. It would have to be Aidan walking you down the aisle, and just the mere thought made a choked sob escape your lips.

The sound brought the attention of the room to you, and before you knew it, you were enveloped in a bone-crushing hug from all the people there, everyone telling you that you should be happy, that this was a good thing. Of course, nobody except Caroline and Aidan knew the reality behind the wedding. All they thought was happening was that you fell madly in love with Steve Rogers, and now you two were tying the knot. You even overhead Aisha say that you were definitely pregnant, otherwise, you wouldn’t have rushed into it like this. You tried to assure everyone that there was no pregnancy at all, but, of course, people believed what they wanted, and you lacked the energy to go around the room and speak to them individually, denying what they formed in their heads.

It was Friday night, and you were in your apartment, surrounded by all those people who would come to your wedding. You sent a list of names to Steve that afternoon, and, after what you assumed was a background check on all of them, he agreed that yes, these 15 people could actually come. And when he did, you called an emergency meeting at your apartment, using it both as a way of inviting them to the wedding and as a kind of bachelorette party, where all you wanted to do was to drink heavily, eat a disgusting amount of carbs and pass out around dusk. Safe to say, all of your friends had been in, and by the time it was 11 PM, you were all tipsy, and people started to dance. Some (ehm, ehm, Caroline) even on a table, which was hilarious to the rest of you.

The sadness came and went all evening, but you were determined not to let it ruin your night. So, every time you felt like it was creeping up on you again, you just told somebody and let them hug you until you were feeling better.

Then, somebody came up with the idea to play Never Have I Ever, and since the tequila still burned in your veins, you agreed immediately. And so the game started. You were roaring like a pride of lions, each answer louder than the previous ones, but the most fun arose from telling each other funny stories.

“Ok, so this one time I was blowing off my boyfriend, right? And you know how much I hate the taste of sperm, and he knows it as well, but this one time he really insisted on my swallowing, and so when he finally came, I squeaked and pointed somewhere behind him so that I could spit the cum to glass under the table, and when he turned around I showed him my mouth, void of any liquid, and he looked super proud,” your friend Naila laughed as she told the story to the question: never have I ever swallowed cum.

The night was flowing smoothly, and soon, you saw that it was getting somehow lighter outside. And, sure enough, when you looked out of the window, you saw that the sunrise was coming in mere minutes.

“Guys, guys! The sunrise is here. Let’s go to the roof to enjoy it,” you yelled even though half of the people were already fast asleep. The few of you who were still barely alive, which was around 5 of you, staggered towards the door and crawled up the stairs to the highest levels, and when you opened the last door, you had New York underneath you.

You were wasted and exhausted, but the sight poured new life into you as you watched the early orange rays shine on one building at a time, waking up the city that never slept. It was magical, and it took your breath away. You felt your worries melting away as you saw a new day coming, and you thought it was a new day with many possibilities and hopes for you. You had nothing to lose, and Steve proved to you that he would, indeed, take care of you if need be. All would be if you just played your part and learned enough about Steve to be able to escape his wrath.

The exhaustion then hit your body just as the ray hit your face, and you waved at the drunk group watching the sunrise, each of them in their own realm of thoughts, and soon enough, you sauntered back to your room, where you fell asleep just like the rest of the bachelorette party.

A piercing tone woke you up with a start, and, for a second, you didn’t even know where you were, what time it was, or even what fucking century it was. The throbbing in your head prevented your brain from functioning properly, and so you rummaged through the pile of clothes next to your bed, fishing for what was obviously your phone. Gosh, how you hated the ringtone, and you reminded yourself to just mute your phone altogether because then nothing like this could happen again.

You picked up without so much as looking at the screen and just sneered a harsh what into the speaker.

“Well, good morning to you too, honey,” you heard Steve’s smug voice and rolled your eyes so hard the pain in your head increased. “Is this the way to greet your future husband? I don’t fucking think so,” he continued, and a considerable part of you contemplated just hanging up on him and his annoyingly sexy voice.

“Steve, I have no fucking idea what time it is, but it’s definitely not time for you to call me and want me to be nice. Give me a few good hours of sleep, and then we can talk, ok?” You hoped this would do it, but from the silence on the other side, you assumed he wouldn’t let be just yet.

“What happened? Did your bachelorette party get a little out of hand, and you went to sleep only after sunrise?”

You gasped, shocked how he knew any of it, and for the first time, the fog in front of your brain lifted a little bit. You checked the time, and seeing it was only 9 AM, you assumed that asshole woke you up on purpose if he knew so much about your nightly activities.

“How the fuck-“

“Language!” He yelled suddenly, and you flinched at the intensity of his voice. “I know everything, and I told you I would have somebody keeping an eye on you at all times. You’re only lucky the guy sleeping next to you is gay, you’d be in so much trouble otherwise, honey,” Steve spat, and the only sound you could muster was a long huff, as you regretted ever being born.

“What do you want, Steve? If you know so much, you must know that I’m beat and all I wanna do is sleep, with a guy in my bed or without him. So, if you have something to tell me, please do, otherwise, have a good day, and I’ll catch up with you later.”

“We’re gonna have so much fun together, you and I, Y/N. I’m calling because I wanted to let you know that your room is prepared and ready for you and that your bodyguard will pick you up at exactly 8 PM, so don’t be late. Clint will also help you carry all things you need. I’ll send you his number so that you can be in touch with him. Oh, and honey? Take some aspirin and go to sleep, you sound like you need it,” even through the phone, you could hear him smirk as he hung up and let you on your own once again. Thank God.

“Who was it?” Aidan asked sleepily from the other side of the bed, and you just grumbled some response, not really sure if he understood what you meant, but when he hummed and patted your outstretched hand, you took it as yes, I understand you mean your future husband Steve Rogers, nice talk.

The phone signalled you received a text, and when you looked at it, it was your bodyguard’s phone number and a directive, telling you to go to sleep already, because the dark circles under your eyes didn’t suit you.

Oh, how you wanted to kill this man already. He got on your nerves more easily than anybody ever before, and for a brief moment, you wondered why he affected you so. You didn’t even know him, and you shouldn’t let him tossing you back and forth, but here you were, pissed because you could just imagine how proud he was of himself that he woke you up and told you what to do so many times in such a short call.

Sighing, you got up from the bed and went to check the window to see if you could spot the nosy bodyguard ratting on you to Steve. You needed to have a word with him because he just couldn’t go running to Steve every time you blinked.

Looking around the street, you tried to spot a strange vehicle, one that didn’t fit into the street you grew to know so well. And, sure enough, there was a large SUV, much like the one you had driven with Steve before, and you noticed that the windows were tilted. Since your apartment was on the first floor, anybody from the street had a great view right into your flat, and because you passed out totally exhausted, you didn’t have the time, nor did you remember to shut your blinds.

You huffed and shut them now, cursing Steve and his nosiness because he wasn’t making your life any easier, and you weren’t even married yet. The year in front of you would be annoying and difficult, but maybe it would make you feel alive again.

Shaking your head, you didn’t let the memories flood your brain as you strode back to your back, plopped on it belly-first and fell straight asleep.

“Are you sure it’s everything?” Aidan looked around your now half-empty room, except for the furniture that you knew you wouldn’t need. Steve promised to give you a furnished room, and you took his word for it, so you just took the essentials, like your clothes and sentimental stuff. Marie Condo would have been proud because you still managed to get rid of a few things that didn’t spark joy!

“Yeah, and even if I left something here, I could still come, you know? It’s not like I’m never seeing you or this place again. I’ll still be like a 30-minute ride away,” you smiled soothingly at him, but he just shook his head, obviously fighting all the emotions swirling in his heart.

“Alright, alright. No crying. I’ll call you guys when I’m all settled, and Steve actually lets me be by myself, and I’ll show you the room, ok?”

Both Aiden and Caroline nodded speechlessly and then pulled you in a group hug.

“You sure you wanna do it? We can still make it seem like we kidnapped you and take you somewhere to Mexico, or Argentina, or wherever he wouldn’t find you,” Caroline whispered, and you laughed through the tears fighting their way out of your eyes.

“I’ll be fine, you’ll see. We will all have so much fun, and before we know it, the year is over, and I’m back here with you guys, having lived a little,” you smirked, and they nodded reassuringly, not really sure if it really was the best way to live a life, but they didn’t want to push you again. Your heart was set, and they both knew there was nothing they could do now. Except, of course, really kidnapping you.

“Miss Y/L/N, we should go. The boss said we should be there at 9 PM at the latest, and I would prefer if we could be a little early,” Clint said professionally, but you could see that he was afraid of what would Steve do had you arrived late. You didn’t want to start this weird-ass journey by pissing your future husband or making him hurt his employees (you didn’t know whether he would actually do that, but just to be on the safe side, since he did cut off a guy’s finger a mere few days ago).

You nodded and stepped from your best friends, looking at them and smiling brightly. You didn’t want any teary goodbyes, so you just showed them thumbs up and followed Clint out of the door. You knew there would be some tears when you left but didn’t think they would come as early as on the first step from your apartment.

Fortunately, there weren’t that many steps to go before you were out of the building and rushed into the SUV by Clint. It was dark already, but you didn’t want him to see you cry, so you swiftly pulled out your sunglasses and put them on, not saying a word to Clint as he started the car and pulled it into New York’s night traffic. The lights around you were almost blinding, and for a moment, you were glad you had the glasses on, but then another wave of regret and sadness hit you, and you had a hard time keeping in the sobs. Scratching your arms, you stared out of the window and took a few calming breaths, telling yourself to get a grip because you were about to enter the lion’s den, and you couldn’t show them any emotions.

You knew Clint knew what was going on, but he was gentleman enough not to comment on it. Still, you needed to make sure he understood this little episode was just between the two of you.

“Can I ask you something, Clint?” You said suddenly and saw his eyes flickering between the road and the mirror, meeting your eyes for a moment.

“Of course, Miss Y/L/N. However, I should warn you, I am not allowed to give you certain information,” he said formally, and you nodded knowingly.

“Yeah, right. If I asked you to keep a little secret from your boss, would you keep it?” You asked and nibbled on your lower lip anxiously.

He seemed to have thought for a second before he nodded his head in a manner telling you that there were things Steve didn’t need to know. His eyes met yours again before he spoke up.

“I’m now your bodyguard, and if I think the information kept from the boss is in your best interest, then I won’t tell him anything. For example, you smiled all the way to the apartment, no tears and no sunglasses. Though, I think you should powder your nose and dry your face,” he smirked, and you laughed a little, nodding gratefully and doing exactly as he said.

The car stopped exactly as you put all the supplies back into your purse, and you had a feeling Clint took a longer route to Steve’s house just to give your face the time to dry up and calm down. Checking the time, you saw it was 10 minutes before 9 and saw the relief on Clint’s face when he realized the same thing.

“Alright, I will take you to the boss and then will get the boys to help with your things. We won’t go through anything, but if you need our help when you’re unpacking, all you have to do is text me,” Clint said, walking you to the door.

The man you met on your first night there was standing as a sculpture at the exact same spot, and you wondered if he ever moved from that hallway. He did move towards you, gesturing to your purse, but Clint’s hand stopped him mid-motion.

“She’s clean. I’ve been with her the whole time,” he said sternly and with authority, and when he saw the first man taking a breath to protest, Clint just gave him a chilling frown, and the man stepped down, hung his head in defeat and let you through.

“It’s not a problem, Clint; I could have shown him the purse, you know?” You almost whispered as you walked through the empty rooms and hallways with Clint by your side.

“They need to learn to respect you, Miss. You are, after all, marrying the boss very soon, and they need to understand that you are not a threat,” he gave you a curt nod, and you blushed a little. You didn’t know what it was, but the way Clint spoke to you with so much trust and respect already made you feel much better. You knew it would be an issue, so having somebody on your side was a huge relief already.

“Thank you, Clint, I really-“

“Well, happy you two are best buddies already! Are you gonna braid each other’s hair and do each other’s nails soon too?” A voice snapped you back to reality, a voice you already knew too well. Steve was leaning against a door, his face stoic despite the mocking tone of his voice. Clint obviously tensed next to you, mumbled some apology and scurried out of the room, leaving you with Steve.

You just looked at him and crossed your arms on your chest.

“Do you need to be like this?” You asked incredulously, not really understanding why he had to be such an ass when all you did was having some sort of conversation with one of his loyal men.

“Like what, honey? You seem to forget who I am and what I can do to you and your fucking life,” he sneered when he finally pulled away from the door and marched right in front of you.

Your arms fell from your chest as you stared at him, trying to figure him out. Which, considering he was a prolific mobster, wasn’t the easiest task at hand. But you tried nevertheless and poked to see where was all this coming from. He obviously needed to be in control of every situation, always the centre of attention, and, you realized, it was probably this that pissed him off. You walked in, not really paying attention to him standing by the door but carelessly talking to somebody else. But his attitude was another thing entirely.

“What do you want me to say, Steve? That I’m sorry I talked to somebody else and that it won’t happen again? You know it probably will, especially since you assigned Clint with the task of taking care of me and making sure I survive this year with you, which is really all he had done in the 40 minutes I have known him,” you reasoned, trying to sound confident but not pushy. You needed to show him that he couldn’t just toss you around like he might have thought. You didn’t expect him changing his attitude altogether for you, but you, at least, hoped he would go easy on you.

He was seething but also thinking; you could see his mind going in overdrive to come up with something snarky and mean. But you were quicker than him, once again.

“Will you be so kind and show me to my room? I would like to get settled in before we start talking about the wedding.”

“There will be no talk of a wedding. All you have to take care of is go tomorrow and pick your fucking dress. Everything else is being dealt with. I won’t need you tonight, so you can go and be by yourself till tomorrow,” he snapped and walked away without saying another word.

Great, now you felt like you were grounded, and all you did was talking with somebody nice to you. You shook your head disapprovingly and headed in a direction you thought might have been your room, but after taking a few turns, you weren’t even sure you were in New York anymore.

“Hey, what the fuck are you doing here?” You heard from behind you, and before you knew what was happening, somebody pushed you forcibly against the nearest wall, pressing their elbow into your neck. You coughed, surprised, clawing at the man’s forearms and trying to let him loosen the press because it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

“I said, what the fuck are you doing here?” He yelled into your face, and you tried to tell him, but your voice wouldn’t come out. So, you just stared at him, tears filling your eyes before you heard a loud hey from somewhere behind you two and saw a man with long brown hair running towards you.

“Sarge, this woman was roaming around here. I think she is a spy,” the man still holding you said to the newly arrived guy, and all you could do was shake your head and tried to make yourself look as non-threatening as possible. Which wasn’t difficult considering you were in no position to be able to even defend yourself had the man decided to crush your trachea.

“Fucking idiot! That’s the boss’ bride! Let her go, you dickhead,” the man, sarge, growled, and you felt the pressure leaving your body. Which was all it took for you to collapse on the floor and start coughing uncontrollably, gripping your neck in your hands to protect it from any further disturbance.

“I-I, I didn’t know, Sarge! Don’t tell him. I thought she was some fucking spy. What the hell was she even doing here all alone, huh? It’s not my fucking fault she came sniffing around stuff that is none of her business,” the man tried to defend himself, but from the murderous gaze he received from the sergeant, he wasn’t very successful.

“Are you ok, Miss? Did he break anything? Is your head spinning? Are you feeling nauseous? Any of this?” He crouched down to your level and extended an arm to you, and you flinched instinctively, not feeling too sure who was your friend here and who wasn’t. So, to play it safe, nobody was your friend, and you’d be scared of them all, forever. Easy business.

The man saw your reaction and frowned even more but was persistent when he removed your hands from your neck to see an already-forming bruise alongside your throat.

“You need to talk to me, Y/N. Are you hurting anywhere?”

You coughed and grimaced because, yes, in fact, you did hurt and that all over the fucking neck and even your head. Which, given the man almost crushed your fucking throat with his elbow, wasn’t that surprising.

“I’ll be fine. And I wasn’t sniffing around; I was just looking for my room. I thought it might be somewhere here, and I would have asked if I saw anyone. But this place is like a fucking maze, and I was all alone,” you screeched, and the sergeant nodded and helped you to stand up. He was pulling out what looked like a phone, but you stopped him.

“Don’t call him, please. I’m fine. I just need to get to the room, so I can put some cold water on it, have a drink and go to sleep. Please,” you accentuated and saw the man weighing his options before he put the phone back to his pocket and nodded for you to follow him.

“I will tell him, just so you know. Steve needs to know about this, and we need to make sure you are introduced to the whole house the first thing in the morning so that this doesn’t happen again. But he needs to know. I will give you a few minutes to take it all in before I do call him, though,” he said with a resolution in his voice, and while you wanted to protest, you saw that it would have been to no avail. So, not saying another word, you let yourself in what was supposed to be your room and took it all in.

The walls were this very soft grey, which you actually preferred to the cold white you saw a lot all over the house. There was a king-sized bed against the main wall, framed with two bed-side tables and two matching white and gold lamps. There were many pillows on the bed and a plaid, grey and blue, throw as well, making it all feel very homey. You could see a large closet, where you could have easily fit ten times the amount of clothes you owned. The only other thing in the room was a table with a chair and some drawers, where you could picture yourself working and writing.

However, when you turned around, you saw something that caught your attention. An easel with a little table on wheels, on top of which was a palette where you could see yourself mixing colors left and right. You squealed, but the sound reminded you that you have just been assaulted and that you could admire the room later.

You took your time in the bathroom, inspecting your neck and hissing here and there when you touched it carefully. You knew the sarge was outside your door, probably counting in his head before he called Steve, and you were actually pretty surprised he wasn’t marching in already. Just when you thought of it, the door to your room flew open, and you heard Steve and the man talking (well, actually, more like yelling at each other).

“Where the fuck is she? I’m going to kill Drax. I swear to fucking God, man. How is it even possible that he does shit like this? They were all supposed to be briefed, for fuck’s sake. Imma have Sam’s ass as well for this. Fuck!” He yelled and kicked into something, which made you frowned, and you rushed out of the bathroom.

Steve spun around and almost ran towards you, cradling your face in his hands carefully and lifting your head so that he could have a clear view of the injuries. He was swearing under his breath, but you couldn’t help it and stare at him, wide-eyed. He was actually careful with you, sweet even as he took it all in, and when he was sure you wouldn’t die right there, he took a step back from you.

“Are you ok?” He asked after a moment, and all you could was just nod and stand there awkwardly, scratching your arms behind your back.

“Will you be able to find your room easier next time?”

“No, we took too many turns. But I won’t leave this room till morning anyway, and I will learn to stay out of the way very quickly, I promise,” you rushed to say, not really wanting to meet any of his crew alone again.

“You can’t be scared walking around here, honey. I will show you around right now, and I have already called an emergency meeting, and I want you there. This can never happen again,” he said gravely, and you understood this was probably his way of apologizing for something that wasn’t really all his fault. Well, he didn’t have to storm off and leave you there, nor did he have to scare Clint away, who was ready to show you to your room in the first place.

“Is it necessary, Steve? If I’m quite honest, I don’t feel too comfortable leaving the room right now,” you quipped, but Steve wasn’t listening anymore. He just grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the door. Weirdly, you felt a little better having the skin-on-skin contact with him because, at least now, nobody would be stupid enough to attack you.

You tried to remember the way and took in the details that would make you not lose your trail again, such as the red vase on one of the tables in the corner that looked just like the corner two minutes ago, but the vase was something you could remember, so you took a mental note of that and other little things that would serve for your safety, obviously. Because when Steve told you people would want you dead, you sort of didn’t expect those people would be in the house with you.

You walked through the spacious kitchen and the adjacent dining room to find yourself in what looked like a meeting room, with around 20 men gathered and scattered all over the room.

When Steve finally stopped, he let go of your hand, but he instinctively reached for you and pulled you against his side. You looked at him in slight disbelief again but didn’t say anything as he stared in front of himself till the room was as quiet as a freaking church during a sermon.

“Let me make this very quick: however lays as much as a fucking finger on Y/N here, I will kill you, and I won’t give a fuck who you are. You were briefed that I’m getting married to the woman I want, and because somebody wasn’t paying attention to the fucking briefing, evidently, my fiancé is now sporting a black neck, which she will have to cover for our wedding. Drax, you and I will speak tomorrow, I was ready to kill you, but I’m a reasonable man, so I will sleep and think of your punishment then. Now, any questions?” He asked threateningly, and you knew even if somebody did have a question, nobody would dare to ask it now.

And just as you predicted, the room was as quiet as before, and Steve waved his hand so that everybody was dismissed and they could breathe again. Just not in his presence.

“Sam, you stay here,” Steve added when he saw one of his closest men leaving the room as well.

“I will deal with him, Steve. I don’t know how that could have happened, but it won’t ever again, I promise. If it does, you can have my head, man,” the bulky man said and smiled warmly at you.

“By the way, hi, I’m Sam. I’m like the muscles here, you know? So, if you need to pick something up, I’m your guy,” he said with a wink, and you chuckled but took his hand to shake it.

“Nice to meet you, Sam, and I will remember that, thank you.”

“Alright, now, we have all the pleasantries behind us, you can go back to your room and go to sleep. And Y/N, if anybody as much as looks at you the wrong way, you tell me, ok? This marriage might not be a genuine one, but none of these assholes knows that or should care about that. They should protect you just like they protect me, and I don’t care what they say. I can’t have my fucking wife scared to walk these halls,” he was still frowning as he was saying all this to you, but you could see he was much more relaxed than when all the men were in the room. These two, the sergeant whose name you still didn’t know, and Sam, were obviously close to Steve because despite the winks Sam gave to you, Steve didn’t make a scene, nor did he give you the pointed looks when others were around. Still, you were on thin ice, and there was too much drama for one day for you to try and challenge him in any way.

“Ay ay, Captain,” you chuckled, and the corner of Steve’s mouth actually moved a little, so you took that as a good sign.

“Alright, I will try and get back to my room and call it a day because tomorrow is an important day! So, nice to meet you, gentlemen, and I will see you soon, I guess,” you waved at them awkwardly, and Sam waved back enthusiastically as you left the men to themselves.

“She is actually quite nice,” Sam summarized, and winked at Bucky, who just rolled his eyes at him in annoyance, having just enough of Sam’s antics for one day.

“Yeah, yeah, she actually is, when she’s not talking back and challenging every fucking thing I say,” Steve complained, and it was a turn for both men to roll their eyes at their best friend.

“Oh yeah, because you love when they’re meek and quiet, we forgot. C’mon, man, somebody fucking choked her today, and she was still standing here with her head held high, keeping it together like a fucking pro. I say she is perfect for you,” Sam said defensively when he saw the murderous stare from his friend/boss.

Good thing Sam didn’t see you in your room because as soon as you closed the door behind yourself, the tears just streamed down your face, and small sobs left your lips. You were glad the day was over and dreaded what the next day would bring.

Next Chapter >

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nctzanne · 3 years

Text

Bisexual

[Smut, a tiny bit of fluff]

• Ten x Reader (fm)

requests closed ♡

-You are gay, aren’t you? I mean, by the way you look at Johnny, it’s pretty obvious- You speak nonchalant, fixing your eyes on the random yaoi movie you both are watching.

-I prefer calling myself bisexual- Ten answers with no amusement- I still don’t know how it’s to have sex with a girl-

-That’s why i thought you were gay- He laughs under his breath. You turn your sight to him, just to admire his delicate face traits. Indeed, Johnny was lucky.

Being friends with Ten was something... peculiar. He is a mystery, in every possible way. When you think you know him, suddenly he appears with a personality totally different from what he chose to show you. In those 5 years of knowing eachother, Ten always had something new to uncover about him, making you feel refreshed. There was no way you could be bored with him, everything felt new, funny, dangerous. He helped you to skip your first class, to get an A on maths, how to get drunk without puking, and how to freestyle dance. You just don’t imagine your life without him.

And now, that you both live together, everything got even better. Nights reading tarot cards, laughing at some Tik Toks, and even you both escaped to make a friendship tattoo: A little butterfly under your boob and under his chest.

Some people would say that you both look like a couple, but there is no way Ten have ever felt that way with you. Oh, but if you talk about your personal feelings...

-Uhm, __, do i have something in my face or..?- Ten whispers so suddenly you snap out of your thoughts. One side of his face is iluminated by the different colors of the sunset that it’s occuring outside your balcony window. He looks so pretty like this, how can he even be real?

-Yeah, some uglyness over there- You try to play it cool, throwing a pillow towards him, positioning it on his lap so you can rest a bit over your heavy thoughts.

He doesn’t seem to complain, and starts playing with your hair. It feels so nice to be around him, he is your comfy zone, your safe space.

-I really want to know- he mumbles.

You freeze.

-Know? What do you wanna know?- For some reason, you don’t want to look at him.

-How it’s to have sex with a woman- he sounds so damn secure about himself, like those words didn’t afect you at all. But he’s wrong, your heart speeds up a little bit, trying to figure out where this conversation was heading to. No, there is no possible way that...

-I’ve been thinking about this a long time ago, you know- his voice goes deeper this time- I know so much about sex with men, but so little with girls. I really want to try how I develop during the act- What the fuck is he talking about?

-Ten, what the f...- he grabs you by your back so you sit up and face him. You are only centimeters away from your nose to rub his.

-I want to know... ___, please let me find out- he almost sound like begging. You hold your breath trying to conect the last neurons that are functioning so you convince yourself that you are not dreaming. You can’t help but look at his lips,just waiting for his sign...

There is no movement at all, not his, not yours. The only thing you can hear is your own heartbeat buzzing on your ears, his warm hands on the sides of your cheeks, his eyes piercing your thoughts.

-Just kiss me already- Your voice trembles, almost like if you are unsure. Actually, you are, there is no way this could end in a good way.

But all of that fades away when he connects his lips with yours. For a few seconds, it’s only that, just your lips touching. But it’s enough to make your mind go fuzzy, fireworks erupting on your lower belly, feeling like this moment should’ve happened so many years ago. When you interwined your fingers while walking on the park, or when he comforted you when you broke up with Kun. But no matter how awkward this moment was, it is everything you needed.

You don’t know how longer it takes for you to experimentally open your mouth a little bit, just to lick his lower lip, tasting the waters. He moves away quickly, leaving your mouth hanging open. You think you messed something up, but before you can apologize about taking things too fast he grabs you violently by the nape of your head, so he can start to kiss you messily.

Everything is tongue, saliva and teeth. There is no control, at all. His tongue works majestically inside your wet cavity, exploring every inch of it, like he was marking your mouth as his. You let him lead everything, you just melt under his ministrations, trying to fight his tongue only to earn a deep growl from his throat.

He grabs your hips giving you a sign to sit on his lap and you do, gasping as soon as you feel his hard clothed member against you. He janks your hair just to have your neck fully display to him, so he can start marking you up. It first starts as tongue kisses, but slowly he sucks mercyless every inch of your neck and collarbones.

-Ten, i have dance classes tomorrow- you try to stay as rational as posible, running your fingers through his dark black locks- Dont mark me up-

He looks up to you, mouth full of saliva, eyes glistening -You are acting as if you aren't mine-

It felt like somebody totally different from Ten was talking to you now. When you said that he always had something new about himself to show, you weren't kidding. His voice was always sweet as a candy cane, but now you can swear he can cut a rock with a whisper. You shiver, not knowing what its going to happen at all.

-My dear pup- what... is that... a nickname? A pool starts to grow on your panties, and you are afraid you will wet his jeans as well- Do you think i don't know how i make you feel only by looking at you? By touching you?- he lays back on the sofa where you both at, just so he can admire your fucked up state, he is loving how wrecked you are by him- Why do you think i dont fuck any other girls, huh? Because I know how to drive you insane, i know how you masturbate with your filthy vibrator everynight you see me without a t-shirt, wishing that pleasure was given by me- your mouth opens in surprise, and you suddenly want to be swallowed by the couch and just disappear. It seems that he notices- The only girl i want to pleasure my whole life is you, because you are the only one who can make me feel this- he grabs your wrist so your hand touches his dick over his pants.

You are absolutely clueless of everything. So many things happening so fast. He heard you masturbating? He masturbates himself thinking about you? Is it now even the time to wonder about those things?

Almost on queue, he kisses your lips softly, caressing your hair -Let me make you feel good, pup. I want to try everything with you, only you-

A loud moan breaks the ice between you two. You look at eachother trying to figure out where the sound is coming, until you both face the TV. Right, the Yaoi movie. The scene is so fucking explicit you couldn't help by sigh, and that doesn't slip out of Ten.

-You like watching that, don't you?- he turns you around, so now that your back is pressed against his chest. He opens up your legs and in a blink of an eye has his hands roaming the waistband of your pajama pants. -You are so filthy, what if that was me and Johnny? Would you rather watch that?- you moan not only because of the scene you just imagine, but also that his fingers start to ghost against your wet folds- Or do you prefer me fucking you, making a mess out of you?- he teases you, rubbing gently but never putting enough pressure, he only rubs your pussy lips.

You open up your legs in desesperate attempt to make him touch you more, but he just takes his time. You are not watching the movie at all, your mind wandering about all the things you can try with him.

Finally, his index finger rubs your clit slowly in a up and down motion. You hate the fact that you are too vocal when it comes to sex, but it seems that for him it tastes like glory. Using two fingers now, he decides to rub your now hard and too sensitive nub in different ways, but when he starts to do it in circles is when you close your eyes and moan his name loudly.

-Okay, that's how you like it then- and you dont notice when he starts to pick up his pace. You are so close, so damn close due to all the dirty talking, but you don't want it to end.

-Ten please, i don't want to cum yet- you rest the back of your head on his shoulder, eyes rolling back. You can hear the sounds that come down from your wetness, and it seems that he tries in all best ways possible to make those sounds louder and louder.

-Who says you have permission to cum anyways, pup?- he whispers in your ear. His eyes are fixed in how his fingers are working on you, at the same time he is listening carefully how his name slips out of your tongue everytime he slows down.

-Ten ‘m so close, please- You don’t know what are you begging for. Your legs tremble trying to hold your orgasm but you feel like you are going to explode.

-I love when you call me by my nickname, but sometimes i think you forget about my real name- He stops his actions, making you groan in disapproval, but he hush you while introducing his fingers on your mouth. You don’t want to admit it, but you truly love your own taste.

You suck clean his fingers, swirling your tongue around them, while trying to look at him in the eyes, though it was kinda difficult due to the position he is. He bites his lips, humming in agreement, he likes what you are doing.

-I want to hear how you scream my name while i make you cum- He starts to rub your clit again, but 10x faster. He looks like an expert rubbing you, it feels so damn good, it’s impossible that he is a “girl virgin”.- Say it-

-Chittaphon...- You feel so embarrased, and don’t know why, but you choose to let go and get consumed by pleasure. You feel it, that tight knot begging for release, your hands holding on dear life by his arm muscles, hearing his grunts on your left ear, even the year of his piercings on your cheek makes you burn and get closer and closer.

-Chittaphon im cumming- you warn him with voice cracked, you can’t hold it any longer.

-That’s it pup, let go, cum for me- He whispers and licks your earlobe. And that’s all that takes for you to disappear from earth, being sucked in by the orgasm that is washing you. You chant his name over and over again, your inner walls clenching around nothing, the climax seems to last for hours. You feel your clit throbbing, thighs full of your own liquids, and you black out.

-____, baby, it’s okay- He hears that you are whimpering, destroyed by pleasure.- Don’t move, let me clean you up-

In a matter of minutes, you start to get conscious, eyelashes batting fast trying to recognize where you are. The aroma of Ten invades you and suddenly you feel calm, you are in his bed, covered, with a white t-shirt and nothing else below that. He is laying besides you, hugging you by your waist, caressing your skin with his thumb.

-Hey, you woke up. I was worried, i thought i knocked you out or something- He smiles, clearly proud of the mess he just made. You slap his shoulder, letting a little laugh slip out of your mouth.

-Sorry-

-About what?-

-I just passed out... i didn’t even suck you off- You legit feel embarassed.

-Ah, ____, i wanted it this way. It was perfect, trust me- He pecks your lips, worried that maybe you won’t believe him- This is what i asked for-

You feel your heart full. Of blood maybe, but it’s a metaphor to explain how complete this man makes you.

-So, are you bisexual or not- You try to change the subject, laying on your side so you can face him. You still don’t get used to the idea that probably, probably you both like eachother. He laughs outloud, with his perfect teeth on display, and then he bites his lip.

-Im ___sexual, for sure-

You don’t know what it’s going to happen before this. But that’s Ten’s essence, he is a complete mystery. And that’s why you are madly in love with him.

#nct #nct 127 #nct dream #wayv #nct smut #wayv smut #nct imagines #wayv imagines #kpop smut #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #wayv scenarios #nct ten #wayv ten #chittaphon smut #ten smut #ten scenarios #ten imagines #chittaphon scenarios

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simonsrosebud · 3 years

Text

what if kevin & dalton had been set up instead of meeting on their own?

(pls accept this as apology for not posting any kalton for MONTHS)

kevin doesn’t have a date to the banquet.

normally, it’s fine. he’s taken allison or renee to the last few, as friends. but this year, renee has something going on with gwen, their freshman dealer who is somehow only a year younger than himself. and allison got scooped up by ricky, the other freshman dealer.

“what happened to us being dates? i thought it was unspoken?”

allison shrugs and pushes her hair behind her shoulder. she has her arms crossed as she leans against the doorframe to kevin’s bedroom. “sure, but ricky has a crush on me and it’s fun playing around with it.”

kevin sends her a look. “ew, don’t look at me like that. as if, he’s like a baby to me.” kevin opens his mouth, but gets cut off. “you could get a date easily, it’s fine, we’ll help.”

and she’s right. later that afternoon she shoots a text to the team groupchat.

allison: kevin needs a date, any and all genders welcome. must be hot, good at socializing, and able to withstand his complete lack of care for them esp once he starts talking exy.

allison: i expect a nominee from each of you. good luck soldiers.

and kevin’s going to kill that girl.

the freshmen don’t answer, of course. all of their friends are freshmen, and they’re also just too scared to respond to the foxes sometimes.

aaron responds first, suggesting he just take one of the vixens. neil chimes in by saying that marissa girl is fucking social alright.

kevin doesn’t get why allison can’t just set him up with one of her friends. she has a strict rule against any of the foxes dating her non-exy friends, but it’s just an banquet.

matt comes in last, but instead of the groupchat it’s just to kevin.

matt: i have a friend named dalton. he’s in his masters to become a professor but he’s chill. he’s nice and fun too, the best guy i know

kevin knows he shouldn’t be shallow, but...

kevin: picture?

matt responds almost instantly. a picture of his friend sitting across from him at starbucks on his laptop. he looks caught off guard, like matt took the picture without warning.

is he with him right now?

kevin: maybe.

he drops his head back and rubs his eyes.

an hour later, the door opens. neil comes in first. matt is on his heels, and someone else trails in behind him. kevin sits up.

neil looks at him. in french, he says, “i wasn’t a part of this.”

kevin stands, and responds back in french. “you let him in.” neil shrugs at that, and continues down to the bedroom.

matt nods at him with a smug smile. “do you still have your psych 101 workbook? i have to take it next semester and i don’t wanna buy it.”

kevin frowns. is he not going to introduce his friend? “uh, yeah.” he turns to his desk and rummages through the drawers to pull it out.

“oh, this is dalton, by the way. he’s a friend from sophomore year.”

there it is. kevin turns back, book in hand, and nods at dalton.

dalton smiles, calm and charming, and tilts his head a bit. “he’s lying. i was his TA.”

kevin gives a smile. it’s small and faint, and mostly fake. he can’t help it. he doesn’t care for small talk like this. how old does that make dalton?

also, how did matt befriend his TA? kevin’s never spoken a word to the majority of his own.

“can’t imagine having to deal with him in class,” he says, jokingly.

matt doesn’t defend it, just shrugs and moves on. “hey, did you find a date to the banquet yet?” he wiggles his eyebrows.

kevin’s gonna kill him. he stuffs his hands into his hoodie pocket so he can ball his fists. “not yet, no.”

he nods, nudges dalton. “kevin’s on the exy team, too. he’s the only one without a date to the winter banquet this year,” he says. “allison, remember allison? she’s on a manhunt to find someone she approves of for him.”

dalton considers it. “that sounds like allison.”

kevin refrains from frowning. “have you met her?”

dalton has, just one time when he and matt went to a football game this fall and made a pit stop to matt’s room. it’s also when he met neil, albeit very briefly. neil had too much going on to give him the time of day.

“once, a month or so ago.”

when matt and dalton get into the car, dalton turns halfway in his seat to fully face matt. “he doesn’t have a date?” matt shakes his head. “is he into guys at all?”

matt glances at him. “yeah, he’s bisexual.”

dalton raises his eyebrows. “um, hello?! why didn’t you set him up with me?!”

matt frowns and shoots his friend a look. “why do you think we just went over?! i took psychology freshman year!”

dalton’s gonna kill him. “but you didn’t say anything about me to him.” matt rolls his eyes and waves him off, and dalton sits back in his seat.

“i know kevin, i know what i’m doing.”

he crosses his arms. “you’re the worst wingman i’ve ever met.”

but low and behold, kevin texts matt a few hours after his visit.

kevin: how do u know dalton would want to be my date to the banquet?

matt: bc he literally told me so

kevin: fine, ask him if he wants to go and i’ll take him.

when dalton climbs on the bus behind matt, it takes him only a moment to spot kevin and make his way over.

the banquet is five hours away, so the foxes and their dates are changing into their formalwear once they arrive.

dalton has joggers on, and a long sleeve henley that’s a size too big. his collarbone hangs out as the collar hangs low. he wears a soft smile, and pushes a hand back through his hair.

he looks hot.

dalton looks even more hot dressed up in his suit. he keeps at kevin’s side at first, and talks to both matt and dan from time to time. allison even pops up once to inquire about him, since he wasn’t one of her picks.

dalton and matt seem to joke around like they’re best friends. but he doesn’t ever remember matt mentioning him.

then again, if kevin had friends outside of exy, he may not introduce them to the foxes, either.

he finds his way back to kevin’s side at their table, where he’s talking to a trojan player. after a while, kevin turns to him. “you don’t have to stick by my side, if you don’t want.” he almost feels bad.

dalton shrugs and smiles. “what if i want to stick by your side?” the way that kevin reacts shows that he wasn’t expecting that, and dalton’s smile turns shy. “um, i don’t mind, really. i’d feel bad leaving you alone. i’m your date.” he takes a sip of his drink.

“okay.” it barely leaves kevin’s lips, but it’s enough to make dalton happy.

“you can even talk exy to me, if you want. i can pretend i know how it works.”

kevin’s heart seizes. “you don’t know exy?”

dalton grins. “i’ve never even seen a game.” he leans closer. “teach me?”

so he does. for the next half hour, they sit and kevin blabbers on, and dalton listens and asks questions. and then they sidetrack somehow to talking about marvel movies and what they suspect will happen in the next spiderman movie.

dalton swears to die on the grave that peter parker is a bisexual icon.

“you can take that title, instead, though.” his grin is cheeky. kevin lightly kicks his ankle and rolls his eyes, but he’s heavily amused.

“what about you? what are you?”

“gay,” he shrugs. “not much to it.”

“did you… when you told people, how did they react?”

dalton’s head tilts just a bit, and his smile starts to fade. “some people don’t like it, but it was fine for the most part.” and after a moment. “why, are you okay?”

kevin nods.

dalton doesn’t believe it. and he supposes he doesn’t know kevin enough to say that, but there’s something about the way kevin doesn’t verbally respond to it that sits weird in his head.

he props his chin in his hand. “i told my roommates i was gay the first week of freshman year. my roommate knew, but we had two suitemates, and one of them kinda stopped talking to me after that if he could help it.” he flicks his eyes up to meet kevin’s. “my uncle asks me at every family function if i’ve got a girl yet. he’s known for seven years, now,” he says. “and thanksgiving is now hosted at my house because my grandmother told my mother that i was unwelcome in hers.”

harsh.

“i’m sorry.”

he doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to say, really. he barely has family as it is, but he can’t imagine losing them now because of something so small.

but dalton just shrugs a shoulder. “it’s okay. think about it this way, if i was still in the closet i wouldn’t be your date right now.” he cracks a smile. always smiling.

that’s when kevin notices just how close their faces are. and how he keeps glancing at dalton’s mouth. he sits back. not here.

dalton goes to the bathroom, and matt takes his seat. “how’s it going with dalton?”

kevin frowns. “fine, why? did he say something?”

matt’s face is indescribable. “no, but i see you guys getting all close and stuff. just flirt with him, dude! he obviously likes you.”

yeah right. “i-i don’t think so. he’s just here because i didn’t have a date.”

matt drops his head for a second. “kevin, after you first met him he scolded me for not setting you two up. he doesn’t watch exy, and he’s not here for the famous kevin day, just give him a chance.” kevin looks to the side, where dalton’s on his way back talking with dan at his side. they’re getting closer, so he talks fast and quiet. he stands. “don’t fuck this up, he’s hot and nice,” he whispers, and grins when dan slides into his side.

“we wanna dance. boys?” she looks expectantly at both kevin and matt. matt doesn’t have a choice, but he’d never say no anyway.

dan pulls kevin up and shoves him lightly into dalton, who catches a hand on his waist. kevin wants to squirm out of it, but not because he doesn’t like dalton, or dalton’s touch. just because the idea of liking dalton scares him a bit.

but dalton lets go when he finds his balance.

“i don’t- i can’t dance.”

“yeah right, i’ve seen you at eden’s before.”

when he was belligerently drunk.

“you don’t have to.” dalton’s voice is soft behind him.

matt slides his gaze to kevin. don’t fuck this up.

he turns. how has his life come to this? “no. i will, if you want to.”

dalton grins, lopsided and happy. “yeah?”

he hopes he doesn’t regret it. “yeah.”

so dalton takes him by the hand and leads him after matt and dan. the majority of the foxes are in the midst of the crowd as well, but they don’t pay them any mind. there’s enough people that kevin can pretend he’s at eden’s.

kevin is a terrible dancer. dalton notices it right away and laughs. when kevin gives him a look he says, “follow my lead. just sway a little. nod your head to the music,” kevin looks up at him while he dances, but catches dalton’s eyes instead.

he looks away and falls out of rhythm. “sorry,” he mumbles.

“it’s okay.” dalton gently takes kevin’s hands and puts them on his waist. it feels illegal. his hands feel like dead weights, he doesn’t know what to do.

is he blacking out right now?

but then dalton’s moving his hips and dancing, and laughing. he’s having fun and kevin wants to have fun too.

he moves his hands from dalton’s waist to around his neck, and dalton hesitates with his hands near kevin’s hips until kevin nods.

dalton’s fingers dip into his hips. his one finger taps along the beat of whatever song is playing, while he lightly sings along and bounces back and forth.

it’s dark on this side of the court with the exception of some colored lights darting around. the designated dancing spot.

kenna is kissing jack in the crowd.

kevin looks back to dalton, singing with a smile plastered on his face.

no one would notice.

kevin’s fingers twitch against dalton’s neck. but someone could.

he’s already out, but that doesn’t mean he’s kissed a boy in public yet.

he drops his arms. “i need some air.”

dalton let’s go, “are you okay?” but he just nods and takes off, off of the court and down the hall to the locker rooms. the foxes have their things in the away men’s locker room.

kevin sinks down on the bench. he plays with the bracelet around his wrist, courtesy of betsy in case he needs something to fidget with. opposed to panicking, that is.

that woman is never wrong.

kevin likes dalton, that’s not in question nor is it really the problem. the problem is that he doesn’t know what his problem is. if it’s what people will say when they see that he truly is into men.

being told something versus seeing proof that it’s real are two different things. he’s learned that, dealt with it more than once. the last time it was the proof of the raven’s bullying and abuse. being told that kevin and riko’s relationship isn’t what the fans fantasize it is versus then seeing proof that it isn’t anything that they thought, for example.

kevin had to deal with backlash like that for months after the raven’s investigation post championship game. him being bi isn’t the same, of course, but he doesn’t know how to predict the behaviors of his fans. he doesn’t know what they’ll support or not.

but he likes dalton.

“hey.”

one of the freshmen, eva, stands in the doorway. “stop running

you don’t have to be scared of people seeing you dance, you know.”

kevin frowns. “i don’t care about dancing.”

“yeah, but you care about dancing with your date.” they cross their arms and lean against the doorframe. “no one cares. half this team is a little gay, anyway.”

once they’ve changed for the night in the hotel room, dalton hesitates from where he stands by the bed. “are you okay? you seemed a little jittery all night, i just... i wanna make sure everything’s fine, i guess.”

kevin looks up, but doesn’t answer.

stop being so afraid of everything.

he opens his mouth to say something, but he doesn’t know what he can say.

he sighs.

dalton’s standing there, arms crossed, concerned. kevin swallows his fears as he makes his way across the room until he’s standing right in front of dalton, and slides a hand behind his neck to kiss him.

dalton hums, surprised. after a moment he brings a hand to kevin’s chest, and there’s a second where kevin thinks hes going to be pushed away. instead his fingers dig into his hoodie and he pulls kevin closer.

dalton’s smiling as kevin pulls away. “about time,” he mumbles, and kisses him again.

the back of dalton’s knees hit the bed by accident, but he drops down to sit and gently pulls kevin by the strings of his hoodie.

kevin isn’t new to sex, so to speak. he’s not the most experienced, but he’s had his fun. it’s the only reason he’s confident enough to scoot dalton further back and kiss him into the mattress.

dalton wraps an ankle around the back of kevin’s knee. he curls his fingers into his hair and leans his head back when kevin kisses down his neck.

they wake up to kevin’s phone blaring. matt’s calling.

kevin only acknowledges the fact that he has his arm around dalton for a second before he checks the time.

they’re late.

wymack’s gonna kill him.

kevin sits up and shakes dalton as he answers his phone. “hey you guys are awake right? coach is pulling the bus around then we’re loading up.”

kevin’s out of the bed and throwing his shirt on, tossing dalton’s hoodie to him. “yeah, we’re coming.” dalton’s eyes go wide and that kicks him into gear as he realizes the situation.

they look a mess as they run around. they’ve really only got one pair of clothes and their suits to frantically shove into their bags. kevin pulls his sneakers on without socks and dalton’s got his on with the laces all undone as they jog down the hall.

at least they brushed their teeth.

dalton drops down to tie his shoes in the elevator, and when he stands kevin takes the liberty of carding his fingers through his hair.

he shrugs. “bed head.”

dalton can’t help but smile. “might wanna pull this up a little,” he mumbles, and that’s when kevin realizes that he’d accidentally put on dalton’s long sleeve henley. the shirt he’d been wearing last night before it got dropped to the floor.

dalton pushes the shirt up so it’s not hanging lower on kevin’s collarbone. he’s got a nice hickey that needs hiding.

“they’re never going to let this go,” kevin says.

dalton leans back against the elevator wall. “i’ve got some juice on matt if you ever need.”

kevin smiles, just a little. despite him worrying all during the banquet, last night was so good. he doesn’t want it to end as soon as they step off of the bus. he doesn’t want dalton to be a one night stand, he doesn’t think.

he takes a step forward and kisses dalton against the wall once more. he pulls away when the elevator dings.

matt smiles to himself as he watches them come around the corner. he tries to tame it, at least.

kevin and dalton are the last on the bus. kevin’s spot in the back is open, so they go back there. dalton toes off his shoes as soon as he sits down.

kevin is on the aisle side. his chest skips when dalton’s hand lands gently on his thigh. he doesn’t hate it.

it’s dinner time when they get back to a rainy palmetto. dalton had fallen asleep on kevin’s shoulder a half hour ago, and jolts awake when matt whoops and shouts to get out of his way so he can run off the bus for the bathroom.

“sorry,” dalton says quietly, scratching his head and yawning into the back of his hand.

“i didn’t mind.” kevin stretches his legs and pulls his shoes on.

dalton’s car is in the gated stadium parking lot. kevin walks him to it, head ducked because all he’s got on is dalton’s henley. no one anticipated rain.

dalton turns after unlocking his car, and sticks a ripped off folded note into kevin’s palm. kevin puts it right into his pocket for safe keeping. “so are you gonna call me after this?” dalton’s hair is falling wet over his forehead.

he nods, mouths the word yeah but nothing comes out. and dalton can’t help himself, so he takes a step forward and kisses kevin one last time, gentle as he hesitates with his fingers hovering over his cheek.

kevin’s got nothing to lose at this point, so he curls his hand alone dalton’s neck and steps closer.

he only pulls away because the team is most likely watching, and someone whistles. “i’ll call you,” he nods. he shoves his hands into his pockets and ignores the rain as he watches dalton drive out of the parking lot.

he turns towards the maserati and sees andrew shakes his head. kevin looks down at himself. he’s halfway to soaked. not ideal for such an expensive car. which leaves one option.

kevin slides into the front seat of his father’s car.

wymack can’t wipe the smug look from his face. “so-“

“no.”

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starsandmoonys · 3 years

Text

Part 2 of this, since basically everyone asked. Sorry if it’s cringe. I wrote it while being happy, so maybe it’s cheesy. Anyway, enjoy! and let me hear you comments and opinions, pleaaasee.

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

Sirius, surprised with all his friends, not bringing his eyes up to meet Remus’. He could feel the other boy’s stare, piercing through him. He knew there is no turning back; he said it. He knew he had to follow through. He gathered the rest of his strength and spoke, still looking at the floor, “Ahh fuck this, I like you Remus.. a lot. And I don’t know, It's okay if you don't. I’m sorry this happened; I didn’t mean to say it.” He started rambling. He knew he was freaking out because maybe Remus didn’t feel the same; he’s made a fool of himself.

He lifted his eyes to search for a reaction and was taken aback by Remus, legit crawling again to his direction. He couldn’t take his eyes off of him. “Remus?” He said when Remus finally settled beside him, incredibly close.

“Yeah, I know,” Remus said, smiling.

“Excuse me? You know? You know what?” Sirius was full-on panicking. What does Remus mean? All this time he knew, and he let him just pine like an idiot. Is he serious? Are they too drunk to be even talking? He tried to stand up; he wanted to leave. He had his heartbeat going crazy. He started to wonder if it’s a prank and everyone is in on it. He’s just the butt of the joke. That’s why everyone left. He moved to get up and was grabbed by Remus, “I know you liked me, Pads,” he said, hands wrapped around his wrists. Sirius couldn’t function, “Close your mouth; you’ve been obvious since summer,” Remus kept being ambiguous, not letting the raven-haired boy out of his misery like he was enjoying it.

“What? I? Remus, is this a joke? You're playing me?! Let go!” Sirius breathed out; he desperately wanted to get away from Remus’ clutch. “Merlin, she was right,” he heard Remus whisper to himself, looking at their hands. He then looked up; and grabbed his face with both hands, “You really are an idiot to be watching me that much and not realize that I like you back, Padfoot,” Remus fell quiet, looking at Sirius’ eyes. “I just wanted to see how long it would take.”

Sirius’ eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “What are you talking about?” He said, calmer than before, yet heart racing a million miles an hour. It dawned on him that Remus just said he liked him too. So it’s all real; he wasn’t imagining it anymore. He kept denying himself for so long, afraid to speak up, but it’s all real now. He’s right in front of him.

Remus giggled drunkenly; “For you to break, love. It wasn't my idea; it was Lils’; she told me to wait it out.” So they have been going on behind my back Sirius thought. “Does everyone know?” he asked a question he obviously knew the answer to. He felt like a complete idiot; how was he so dense? Remus nodded, smiling. “God, that damned redhead,” Sirius said, taking Remus’ hands off his face to hold on to them.

“She’s marvelous. And I've got what I wanted. I liked your pretty confession.”

“Wait, You actually like me?” Sirius said, smiling now. Remus nodded, quite frantically. “Since… Since when?” Sirius couldn’t help but ask. Remus inched closer and closer, so their foreheads were touching, “Since I realized I was gay. Being stuck in the same room as you nine months a year for six years did some damage to my poor heart.” Remus spoke slowly, cooingly, lips threatening to touch with every word.

“Moony, can I kiss you?” He asked, eyes darting to Remus’ lips. “Yes please,” Remus didn’t get to finish his answer as Sirius’ lips were pressed to his. They kissed for the first time. Remus' hands moved into Sirius’ hair, for he started to get onto his lap, straddling him. Sirius deepened the kiss and wrapped his arms around Remus, holding him close. They didn’t know how long that kiss lasted, but they pulled away breathless and in a state of bliss, both boys smiling from cheek to cheek. “Merlin, this is better than all my dreams,” Remus spoke first. He pulled away just enough to look into Sirius’ eyes. “Reality is always better, Moons,” Sirius said pressing another soft kiss to the other boy’s lips. He pulled away and Remus grabbed him again pressing a rather not so soft kiss this time, it was short but as good as all the ones before it. “Just checking,” Remus said against his lips.

"So, you were playing me.. those past months..." Sirius started, narrowing his eyes. Remus snickered in his arms, "I'd rather say, encouraging you. Cause at your rate, we'd be 30 before you say anything." He spoke openly; drunk Remus can be very confident and bold. "All the things you were doing.. encouragement?" Sirius questioned; he admired how free Remus seems to be. "Yup," Remus said, popping the P.

Sirius found himself tackling Remus to the floor, "Oh you little..." He started tickling him, ruthlessly.

"Oh god, oh my god, stop. Sirius, shit. Please." Remus uttered between laughs. Sirius halts after many pleas from the werewolf under him. he stopped his assault to find himself on top of Remus, faces so close and chests pressing against each other, both of them gasping hard for breath.

Sirius fought the urge to kiss Remus senseless at that moment and moved away from him to the side.

"We'll do this right. Stand up, Remus." He said sitting up and pushing Remus off the floor. He needed to make the moment memorable. "What? Why?" Remus questioned him, confused.

"Just do it, please." Sirius pleaded. Remus complied, still puzzled, as he rose to his feet, Sirius positioned himself on one knee in front of him. "Sirius, what are you doing?" Remus asked beet red as Sirius took in his hands.

Sirius smiled softly and looked up to meet the hazel eyes, "Remus John Lupin, would you honor my miserable soul and become my cute, hot, and loving boyfriend?"

"Yes, Sirius," Remus, who couldn't have gotten anymore redder, croaked out the response. At the notion, Sirius stood up and pulled his now-boyfriend into a bone-crushing hug.

"This is not real," Sirius said, burying his fingers into Remus' curls. He felt Remus smile against his collarbone, "Yes, it is. It's as real as it gets now. Believe me, I've known dreams." He spoke.

"I've actually got you?" Sirius asked again, still in disbelieve.

"You've always had; you've just been too dense to realize." Sirius laughed and kissed the top of the other boy's head.

****

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dreamdropxoxo · 3 years

Note

From the kisses prompts, 2 for lamen?? ♥️

Hi dear anon and thank you so much for your prompt!

Sorry it took so long for me to write it. But here it is, finally.

I (once again) wrote too much for this one xD But bear with me. I needed to include the setting 😂 I sincerely hope you like it ❤️

The prompt is from the list here, where you find an overview over all my answers. (Original post of the prompt list here).

2. A small, fleeting kiss - which is immediately followed by a passionate, hungry kiss.

Laurent had no idea how he had ended up in this situation. Well- that was not entirely true, he reflected. As always, it was Auguste’s fault, or maybe his own fault because he could never say no to his own brother in his mindless adoration for him.

Whatever. It didn‘t do him much good to dwell on the reasons for his current predicament.

Because here he sat, in a kissing booth of all places. He hated the world a little.

Beside him sat Lykaios, his teammate (born in Akielos but proud Veretian since her fifth birthday), with a nervous and slightly panicked expression on her face. Which meant that he couldn‘t freak out.

“Everything will be alright. It’s only one hour and then Vannes and Nicaise will take over. We can get through one hour,“ he said in a soothing voice. Lykaios looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. Her smile was shaky, but it was there.

“Yes. You‘re right.“ Her voice was feeble and the blond man had no idea how they could put Lykaios out there. She was much too nice and soft and compliant and vulnerable.

Laurent wanted to bang his head against the booth.

When Auguste appeared beside him out of nowhere, he glared at his older brother who grinned like they had already won the championship.

“Now you two. Prime time for my two most desired team members according to multiple sources. How are you feeling? The queue is going out of the door.“ He looked smug and Laurent contemplated hitting him over the head, but that would probably end badly for the championship, with Auguste being the head-trainer and all, and that was the last thing he wanted.

“I can‘t decide if I hate you or the Akielon team more for starting this whole shit show.“ Because while Auguste was the initiator for the Veretian kissing booth, the Akielons had started the asininity spreading like a disease by auctioning off dates with their star team members.

The Patrans had immediately followed with a charity function where their team performed choreographed strip shows and finally the Vaskians had issued a calendar with their stars photographed in the nude.

While Laurent could absolutely stand behind the cause (which was collecting money for the for the climate. Partly because it was good publicity and partly because they were all aware of the fact that large sport events were harmful to the climate and their higher-ups felt a little bit guilty) he couldn’t stand behind the means to achieve their donations. Kissing strangers for an hour was not how he would’ve tackled the issue.

That was the result of Drunk Auguste, who was even more ridiculously charming than Sober Auguste and managed to not only persuade their higher-ups but also the rest of the team of his unbelievably stupid plan. And one or two shots too many had made Laurent promise to bow to the decision of the rest of the team. He drank two times a year and that’s what comes of it. He seriously considered never drinking again.

Auguste pulled a face. “Sorry Lauri, but really, everybody wants to kiss you two. I had to install a rule that nobody from the team could partake.“ The horrified look on Lykaios‘ face was encompassing exactly what Laurent was thinking, although he kept his face carefully devoid of any emotion.

“Well, whatever. Good luck you two. I’ll be there and make sure you’re both perfectly safe. Nothing will happen to you and if either of you needs a break, you tell me, alright?“ Auguste waited for their nod and then went to lift the curtain.

The queue was really enormous and Laurent groaned a bit while Lykaios blanched.

After five minutes Laurent was very grateful for all the mints handed out at the entrance.

After the quarter of an hour Laurent was very confident in his knowledge that he was indeed very gay.

After half an hour Laurent was sure he would punch the next person trying to slip their tongue inside his mouth.

After forty minutes Lykaios needed a break and Laurent was pretty sure that she wouldn‘t return for some time. He wanted to throttle someone.

After forty-two minutes Vannes plopped down next to him. She grinned brightly at the assembled masses and kissed the next person in line (a dark haired woman) with gusto. Laurent felt relieved and betrayed at the same time.

After fifty minutes, he started the 600 seconds countdown in his head.

After fifty-three minutes there was a commotion at the entrance and the mass of people parted like the Red Sea. Through the resulting corridor strolled Damianos and Aktis with a muttering Nikandros in tow.

The blood roared in Laurent’s ears and he felt a red haze descend over his vision. How dare this Akielon brute to show up at the place of his torture issued to him by the very same savage beast of a man?! He was sure he’d explode every moment.

Only his iron control kept him from standing and walking out through the door. Auguste clapped the golden boy of their competition on the shoulder and laughed at something Damianos said. Hadn’t Laurent already known that his brother was a damn traitor, he would know now.

However, everything went eerily silent when Damianos entered the stage. What the fuck was happening here? Even Laurent couldn‘t make sense of the situation. When the brute walked towards him with a decisive swagger, he could hear the whispers all around them.

“Hello, sweetheart.“ Damianos grinned at him, his dimple was really that adorable. Laurent couldn’t really blame the papers for doing a back-flip over it, not after seeing it that close in combination with the devastating smile.

“Did you get lost? Wouldn’t surprise me.“ Laurent carefully underlined his words with a layer of ice. Damianos’ grin widened.

“No. I really do want to kiss you and I have exactly four minutes left, don’t I?“

Laurent felt his breath catch. That made no sense. Damianos was here to take part in the kissing booth? Was he out of his bloody mind? Well, if that was what he wanted, Laurent would do his job, like he had done the last fifty-six minutes.

He held Damianos’ face between his hands (damn that jawline, honestly!) and pulled him down to press their lips together in a fleeting kiss. Then he pulled back a fraction. He expected the Akielon to step back, make a joke and wave at the people staring at them before vanishing.

He didn’t expect him to lean back in, bury one hand in his hair, tilting his head back and kissing him breathless.

Damianos kissed exactly like Laurent remembered from their ill-advised one night together three months ago after a friendly competition.

He licked over Laurent’s bottom lip, tugged at it softly with his teeth until the blond gasped softly and opened his mouth. The moment the skillful tongue slipped between his parted lips Laurent felt his knees go weak. He was grateful for Damen‘s arm around his waist that propped him up.

Everything about the kiss was hungry and passionate. The way Damen’s hand gripped Laurent’s waist and his hair, the way his tongue explored his mouth, the way his teeth nibbled on his lips and the way he breathed into the kiss, hard and elevated.

Laurent gripped the soft fabric of his shirt in his hands, pressing closer, pulling him in further. Fuck, but this felt good.

When Damen pulled back, his pupils were dilated, but the expression in his eyes was soft, his cheeks were flushed and a blinding smile was all over his lips. “Would you go out with me? On a date, please?“ he asked and Laurent was helpless in the face of such open adoration. “Yes. But you‘ll have to pay for those four minutes. I‘m expensive.“

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klance-fics · 3 years

Text

college/university aus:

if the silence was a song

“It’s … Your show is on so late at night,” Keith tries to explain, as if Lance didn’t know this already. “I guess I was just wondering why that is.”

A crackling silence answers him, and Keith’s stomach sinks. Did Lance hang up? Keith can’t exactly blame him.

But then he hears Lance make a noise––a short huff of breath that might have been either an impatient sigh or a quiet laugh … Keith has no clue.

“That’s the reason you’re calling? To complain about my time slot?”

or, Keith starts anonymously calling Lance's college radio show and develops an unexpected crush.

it grows stronger

College campuses are a cesspool of awkward encounters. Some more unnerving than others, as Lance comes to find. He thinks it's important to note that in all those instances, Keith is there to witness them. Actually, that's unfair. Admittedly Keith happens be useful in getting him out of those situations. Affection, as it goes, grows stronger when you're constantly being "saved" by a protective rival – but mostly friend at this point.

Or 5 times Keith helped Lance out of a situation and the 1 time Lance tried to pay back the saves.

thread our way through a string of stars

Lance is a humble astrophysics student trying to conduct research, which turns out to be a bit difficult to do when he finds a strange guy sitting in his customary research spot. A strange guy looking for aliens, no less.

Lance isn't going to stand for this.

you should date me

“I can read you, Keith Kogane. You’re tired and maybe a little sad, and this mask will lift your spirits, heal your aura, align your chakras. Trust me.”

“I chrusht myou,” Keith says through his fish lips, Lance's hands warm against his squished cheeks, his heart pounding ridiculously in his chest.

Dewey Despicable

"To the toddler who left coffee stains all over the ancient myth books – have you ever heard of these fantastic things called lids? You can put them on all sorts of things; cups, Tupperware, a coffin. Which is exactly what I’ll be shutting you in if you desecrate my thesis paper’s primary sources again."

when the lights go out

Date and a Fifth: a type of party in which everyone must come with a date and a 750 ML bottle of hard alcohol (fifth). However, you must stay zip tied to your date until the two of you finish the entire bottle together.

(In which Lance needs a date, Keith needs cash, and maybe they fall in love along the way.)

Very Gay a.k.a Keith Kogane

“Can I get a name?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I’m - “ Keith pauses, if only for a moment, because he could not only get drunk over the voice that barista is graced with, but also in those eyes. Those cheekbones, lips, eyelashes. That skin, hair, nose. And woah, just woah.

Don’t fuck this up, Brain.

“I’m - uh, I’m gay.”

You’re an asshole, Brain.

[Or based on the prompt that Keith is too gay to function and he's at the mercy of a cute Cuban boy with bright blue eyes behind the counter.]

Blade of Ducklings

“Hey, babe?��

Keith hums, eyes never leaving his phone as he leans forward for his greeting kiss, something Lance provides without hesitation.

“Are you aware there’s a baby duck on your head?” Lance asks as he pulls away from his boyfriend’s cheek to stare at the small duckling on Keith’s hair, snuggled up and quacking softly.

“Yeah, turns out I have a son now.”

“Cool. Does he have a name?”

“Blade.”

“I don’t even know why I ask.”

[The one where Keith adopts a duckling my accident and comes to realization that letting your child fly away is the hardest part of being a parent.]

unmixed signals

Lance honked his horn. “Keith, get your bitch ass in my car before I run you over.”

“Sorry my dad taught me not to enter strangers’ cars.”

“You’re gonna get sick standing out here just get in.”

Keith cupped his hands around his mouth. “HELP!” he yelled. “I don’t know this man! He’s trying to kidnap me!”

In which a rainy Sunday morning brings with it some wet groceries, a valiant rescue, and some much needed romantic clarity.

Dorks

Inspired by a post on Tumblr!

Lance is the only one listening to the current presentation, and oh boy is it something to listen to. The kid has been rambling on about aliens for ten minutes and he is trying so hard not to laugh. So hard. Turns out the kid didn't even think Lance was paying attention, so when he finds out Lance was he books it. Like, as fast it takes Lance to turn his head, that kid was gone.

Keith wants to die. The Hot Guy in his bio class was actually listening to him talk about aliens. That's it. He's done. Kill him now.

Poor Shiro is just trying to keep his little brother sane.

#klance #klance fic rec #laith #vld keith #vld lance #keith kogane #lance mcclain #au: college/university #fluff #angst #humor

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popunktomlinson · 4 years

Text

this is everything i’ve read in the past month put into a list for the sole benefit of my short term memory. it’s a mess of pairings but mostly drarry and can be summed up as lots of enemies to lovers, excessive pining, and a splash of fake dating.

Drarry:

What Real Thing? - loveglowsinthedark (13k)

They don’t cuddle, they don’t talk about their relationship (or lack thereof) and they certainly never fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Aural Gratification - birdsofshore (11k)

Harry's not gay – he just likes listening to exciting stories about Aurors. It's not his fault that the narrator's voice is so smooth, so expressive... and really rather hot.

You open always (petal by petal) - birdsofshore (65k)

Harry’s not the kind of person who pays for sex. He really isn’t. Until he is.

Lumos - birdsofshore (41k)

Harry never expected to spend eighth year listening to Draco Malfoy wanking.

Heartlines - shiftylinguini (73k)

Harry never expected he’d end up chipping away at his virginity while wandless and bonded to Malfoy in Northern Europe.

He never expected that would turn out to be the least surprising thing to happen while out on their training expedition in the middle of nowhere, either.

The Sleeping Beauty Curse - who_la_hoop (153k)

When Draco Malfoy falls into a cursed sleep and can only be woken – at least, according to the Daily Prophet, that impeccable source of truth – by ‘true love’s kiss’, Harry Potter knows there’s no way on earth he’s the answer to this particular riddle. Is he . . .?

Strange Bedfellows - orphan_account, ravenclawsquill (31k)

When Harry encounters a frail and fidgety Draco Malfoy at the Ministry, he just knows something is wrong and he’s determined to get to the bottom of it.

A story about Deadly Nightshade, crippling insomnia, excellent wine … and finding what you need in the strangest of circumstances.

The Devil’s White Knight - orphan_account (65k)

When Harry wakes up in an alternate timeline--a timeline where Voldemort was defeated long before the first war--he discovers everything is different. His parents, his godfather, his friends--and him. Harry must deal with the consequences of who he would have been if he had been raised by his parents, and figure out where he stands with his casual hook up, Draco Malfoy.

Who Shagged Harry Potter? - faithwood (6k)

One beautiful sunny Sunday the Slytherins wake up after a raunchy night only to discover a very naked Harry Potter sleeping in their dormitory. Naturally, they ask themselves a logical question: Who the hell shagged him?

Draco Malfoy, It’s Your Lucky Day - faithwood (47k)

Even though he's unarmed, injured, lost in the Forbidden Forest, and facing a possible murder charge, Draco Malfoy gets lucky.

Love Comes Tumbling - taradiane (22k)

'Harry's thoughts were of how much he would have done differently with Malfoy over the years, and of Dumbledore's final words to the other boy . . . "It is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now." Maybe, Harry wondered, he could find some mercy, too, and give Malfoy the second chance that Dumbledore had believed him worthy of.’

punch-drunk fingerprints - tamerofdarkstars (2k)

In a world where every touch of a soulmate leaves a temporary heat mark on bare skin, Draco Malfoy suddenly finds his life devolving into a massive cliche because the Boy Who Lived Twice has no idea how to respect the personal space bubble.

Muggle Technology and Heroism - TommyLane (90k)

Draco Malfoy wasn’t exactly the best roommate Harry’s ever had. The man tended to watch way too much James Bond and his obsession with muggle technology not only rivaled Arthur Weasley’s but more often than not ended with Harry trying to assure him that the appliances weren’t out to get him. Then there was the little fact that Harry was hopelessly in love with him while Draco remained completely unaware, bringing nameless men home night after night.

But Harry loved his life and was somewhat (as long as he doesn’t actually think about it) content enough in the way things were going. That is until Draco’s old boyfriend comes sweeping back into town – making Draco breakfast and fixing the remote control before Harry can and forcing him to realize that if he doesn’t do something soon, that he might lose the man he loves before he even gets a chance to ever actually have him.

Party of Two - fireflavored (13k)

Drinking, sex, and a total misreading of the concept of fuck buddies.

A Dented Old Street Sign - orphanghost (27k)

Draco knows they aren't the only students who will be completing their NEWTs this year, but they are the only ones whose home fireplaces were disconnected from the floo network by the ministry.

At least, Draco assumes as much until he sees the light falling out from the front door of one of the other rickety old houses in front of them and the three figures cast in its warm glow. For a moment they look like some sort of strange, many legged creature. An acromantula, or a particularly massive Blast-Ended Skrewt. Then Draco hears Pansy make a disgusted sound beside him and the light falls in a less blinding way, and Draco can see that it is actually Potter and the Weasel carrying a large couch between them, and Granger fluttering around them with her wand out, seeming concerned.

(The Piece) I was Missing All Along - lauren3210 (31k)

Draco and Harry have been flatmates and best friends for years, and Draco thinks life is just perfect that way. But when something comes along and threatens to take all that away, Draco has to decide what it is he really wants, and just how hard he's going to work to get it.

The Gentlewizard Club - Sophie_French (28k)

Draco wants what Draco wants. And if he has to snuggle up to Harry to get it, well, surely, Draco can handle that. Problem is, not sure Harry can.

Larry:

A Little Bit Like Fate - Galaxie (8k)

Louis stumbles upon a kiss-in protest for LGBTQ rights, and he meets Harry. They click. It feels a little bit like fate.

Go Nowhere Tonight - objectlesson (12k)

As always, the easy nonchalance with which he treats the rumors hurts, stabs Harry in the gut, twists the knife. Because it is hard for Harry; it’s hard to know people think they should be or are together because he wants that. Wants it so fucking badly, and it would be one thing if he could just silently quarantine that part of himself and pine secretly, but instead he’s faced with fictionalized accounts of his and Louis’s nonexistent love life and photoshopped pictures of them being coupley every time he’s on the internet. It is hard, and the fact that it supposedly isn’t for Louis functions as proof that it’s unrequited. “It’s gonna be a rude awakening for them,” he starts, gazing into his empty glass, “when we eventually come out but are dating other people. No one likes being half-right.”

Good Enough to Eat - objectlesson (7k)

“Okay. I just...fuck, I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” Harry whimpers, and he must be blushing because Louis can feel waves of heat coming off him, his embarrassment a hot, palpable thing. “So, like…I love rimming videos. Nothing makes me come harder,” he admits, covering his face with his hands so his voice comes out muffled and strangled.

You Drive Me Crazy (I Just Can’t Sleep) - objectlesson (18k)

The first time Louis ends up in Harry’s bed is a total accident.

Vinyl and Lace - objectlesson (8k)

Harry tries on a skirt in the X Factor dressing room as a joke. Louis doesn't think it's very funny.

Wolfstar:

Let Us Be Silent, That We May Hear the Whispers of the Gods - gyzym (2k)

Remus Lupin doesn't want to hear it--not tomorrow and not yesterday, but certainly not right now.

Trobed:

Advanced Ambulatory Ichthyology - gyzym (49k)

Course provides advanced instruction in avoidance of the phenomenon commonly known as "jumping the shark." Prerequisites for this course include Introduction to Friendship, Contemporary Best Friendship, The Politics of Emotional Baggage and Cohabitation 207. Students may wish to simultaneously enroll in our sister course, Introduction to Non-Traditional Romance, but said enrollment is optional.

Introduction to Women’s Studies - ama (7k)

You know the story. They're best friends, they're inseparable, Abra has a rainbow collection of hijabs as extensive and impressive as her graphic t-shirt collection and is the hottest girl Tory's seen outside of a mirror--not that that means anything. Right?

#fic rec #read #drarry #mostly drarry ive been in a mood #fics #mine

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doks-aux · 3 years

Text

Yet another Arrowverse ZsaszMask headcanon dump from the priv Twitter. Some sft, many more not. A few were edited for clarity since they were originally in reply to my partner in shipping crimes over there. Content warnings under the cut.

Contents: anal sex, oral sex (fellatio), cuddling, fluff, and brief mentions of dick size, daddy kink, and crossdressing.

Arrowverse: Roman laying face down on the bed after a long day and softly groaning while Victor kneads the tension from his neck and shoulders.

Arrowverse Roman learning that he's loud in bed when he's actually enjoying himself.

He tries to be quiet, but it feels so good, and Victor just keeps encouraging him to be vocal.

Arrowverse Roman fantasizing about Victor bending him over his desk in his office.

Shyly confesses to it to Victor in bed days later because he can't stop thinking about it.

He won't risk actually doing it, but they roleplay the scenario in the office space in Roman's apartment.

I think something Arrowverse Victor likes about Roman is that he doesn't actually need Victor to take care of him. He can take care of himself and has his whole life. But he trusts Victor to do it. He wants to let Victor do it.

No one's simply wanted Victor around in a long time.

I wonder if Arrowverse Roman would be publicly out 🤔

On the one hand, he'd probably be of the opinion that's nobody's damn business, and he's from a generation that would have a lot of shame attached to that.

On the other hand, this is Gotham, where people are too distracted by the guy robbing the bank with an ice gun to really care if you're queer.

Coming out probably contributed to his divorce, so maybe he would've preferred to own it rather than have it dug up in a tabloid or more malicious rumors be spread. Hmm.

I haven't decided the size of Arrowverse Roman’s dick in numerical terms yet, but there's a reason the Victor in my AU's first instinct was to ride it and try to call him Daddy.

I decided Arrowverse ZsaszMask met because they're all at some rich asshole function, and a drunk acquaintance of Roman's thinks it's hilarious to introduce him to Victor to solve his problems. (Roman doesn't want to kill anyone. He's just divorced and sad and misses his kid.)

It's awkward and Roman wants to go back to being drunk and sad in the shadows, but Victor's so charming and observant and... attentive?

Honestly still trying to determine Victor's interest, but in the beginning it can be as simple as being horny and Roman having pretty eyes.

Maybe he tells Roman he has pretty eyes. Maybe no one's ever told him that.

When a serial killer starts flirting with you and invites you to meet him in his room and no of course not that's crazy oh wow you are getting on the elevator okay.

More baseless Arrowverse Roman headcanons! Because I deserve to have this!

I think Roman did love his wife. Not in love with her, but he probably thought he was because it was as close as he'd ever felt to it before. (He worried there was just something wrong with him, like his parents always said, something that broke when the doctor dropped him.)

And getting married was just what you did. And he liked being married. He liked the companionship, having a partner, someone to hold at night, not being alone.

He was never really into the sex, at least the act itself. The intimacy was nice, the cuddling was great, the kissing was fun. But he was never interested enough to even initiate it outside of trying to have a kid.

Not sure what the "oh fuck, i'm gay" moment is and whether it's a complete revelation or there had been hints along the way that he just didn't recognize or chose not to.

Arrowverse Victor coaxing Roman into riding him for the first time and guiding him through it.

"Don't just lie there and take it, baby, show me that you want it."

(The following tweets were in response to being asked about Arrowverse Roman’s first time bottoming for Victor.)

I haven't! Mostly because I haven't figured out the details yet. This is a significant moment for Roman, so I need to get it just right.

But what I do know is that it's their second encounter, and it's at the same hotel as their first. (I honestly don't know if Roman managed to go the rest of the weekend without seeing Victor again. He could not stop thinking about him.)

Victor's reassessed his approach since the last time and is pre-emptively smug about taking a billionaire CEO's cherry. He wants Roman to spend the next several business days thinking about his cock.

He's a romantic about it though because that's clearly what Roman's going to respond to best. He blows him first to help him relax. Roman probably doesn't last long with that.

Roman's on his back because Victor wants to see his eyes when he's inside him.

Roman's very cuddly and clingy after, and Victor kind of likes being looked to for comfort like that. He realizes he's probably gotten Roman overly attached to him already, but maybe that's not a bad thing at all.

Hmm. Arrowverse Victor cuddling with Roman after sex. Plays with Roman's hair while he takes a call for a new target. Romance.

Arrowverse Victor crooning "Hello, handsome" when he gets Roman's pants off.

I like how my response to a version of live action Roman that is more competent and intimidating than BoP's is to objectify him EVEN HARDER as a trembling little sub.

I just know in my heart of hearts that Victor needs to rail him while he's wearing a pretty little dress.

...On further consideration, all Victors should do this to all Romans, actually.

Poor Circe came back to life just to have to hear her dad getting his brains fucked out every night.

Circe waiting for him at the table one morning. "Dad, sit down. We need to have a talk about soundproofing."

Arrowverse Victor calling Roman all manner of ridiculous endearments and pet names, and Roman melting for each one.

Hmmmmm. Arrowverse Adoption AU Roman raising his four daughters and meeting Victor?

I'd have to fuck around with the ages some, but…

Or maybe he simply raised them to adulthood, and now he's empty nesting hard.

The girls trying to convince him to start dating again.

"Mary's in med school now, Dad, you're out of excuses."

Meeting Victor might happen more or less the same, and he's charmed into the bed of a handsome, attentive stranger.

Dunno if Victor would still be an assassin or what he'd do instead. The important thing is that dick changes Roman's life.

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theyaskedmeto · 3 years

Note

It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka.

For which ever ship you want

to forgive you

part of the everything means everything verse

pairing: kurt x blaine

summary: the night before, blaine stood kurt up. this is how they forgive each other.

read on ao3 or read the rest of these little fic prompt fills here

———————

He waited for ages. They don’t usually do stuff like that; go on dates and act like a ‘real’ couple should - normally they just make out under the bleachers instead of going to class, or try to escape dinner and find themselves at Scandals, the shitty gay bar on the outskirts of Lima. But it was their five-month anniversary, and, even though it wasn’t exactly a significant amount of months, Kurt does sometimes feel like they could be doing more for each other.

So, they arranged it - not anything major - just a small meet up at their park again - just wearing slightly nicer clothes this time.

And when Kurt arrived that night, nothing happened.

He waited for so long. That’s the problem when you’re in love - suddenly you feel so much more optimistic about everything. You’ve spent so long hating yourself and wishing you were living another life and then suddenly, this person comes into it and changes everything. Makes everything okay again. And then you start to think, well, if I could achieve that, can’t I handle everything else? And sometimes it just… gets out of hand.

And that’s what Kurt did - he got too optimistic. He spent too much time in that park that night, holding on to the last drop of hope until it escaped from his fingers and he was quickly filled with feelings of hurt and anger. Then eventually, he called Blaine.

“I’m so sorry, babe,” Blaine had said, “it’s just… my mom’s going on another stupid holiday again tomorrow. And she won’t let me out. She said she ‘wants me all to herself’. Not that she even cares.”

“So you couldn’t even fucking text me?” And Kurt was already shouting at him by then. He couldn’t stop himself. He was angry and it was cold, and the halterneck crop top and skinny jeans he was wearing did not keep him warm.

Blaine was hardly listening. He hung up on him.

And Kurt walked home, shivering, lonely, and wishing he had a cigarette right then.

Sometimes, Kurt wonders when Blaine will stop throwing stones at his window to get Kurt’s attention from inside and just use the actual front door because believe it or not, he does care about what his dad will do if his temperamental boyfriend smashes the glass. But when Blaine does it for what feels like the one-hundredth time, the sounds sort of make him laugh - it’s a reminder of his boyfriend now, how they met, how everything built up to this. And it’s also nearly six in the morning during the summer holidays, and Kurt hasn’t even been awake at this time since graduation, so his brain isn’t exactly functioning yet.

Well, he would be happier with Blaine’s appearance if he didn’t stand him up last night.

Under his breath and eyes still sealed shut, he sleepily mumbles, “What the fuck do you want?” and stumbles out of bed, duvet flopping onto the floor as he moves towards the noise. He squints his eyes because the sun has already started to rise, and peers out the window where Blaine is standing there - almost stumbling, even - with a bottle of vodka in hand and a rather exaggerated expression on his face.

Blaine sees his figure through the window, and he shouts, words a little slurred and voice cracking, “Kurt!” and his hands shoot up in the air desperately, liquid in the bottle he’s holding sloshing around precariously.

It’s almost hysterical - he’s drunk, it’s six AM on a Thursday morning, and Blaine’s there with those desperate eyes and stumbling on the sidewalk, and Kurt has to wake up more because he is going to get himself fucking hurt and it will be my problem.

But if anything happens to you—

Kurt opens the window, blinks more as his eyes adjust to the growing sunlight, “Blaine? What the fuck is going on?”

“Kurt!” Blaine shouts again, “I wanna…” he stops for a moment, searching. “I’m drunk.” he finally says, struggling to find the right words after thinking about them for a while, “Please! I’m sorry for what I did.”

He looks like a fucking mess - his hair is tousled over his forehead - his eyes are partially hidden but Kurt can still see the dark circles under them. There are stains on his white shirt, and that signature leather jacket thrown on over it. He looks a fucking mess.

How does he still look hot?

He’s stumbling more, and there is a small bit in Kurt that panics because if anything happens to him— but mostly he’s angry because it’s fucking six in the morning and he was sleeping and his boyfriend is just there, drunk on the sidewalk, and Kurt doesn’t know what to say.

He settles on, “God, what the hell are you doing out there?”

Blaine gives an incredibly over-exaggerated guilty expression, looks around himself as if to say, what do I know?

He sighs, “Please, Kurt. I need— can you… please… let me in?”

Kurt stares at him - his eyes still feel like they could shut with the lack of sleep (he was up reading until two AM) - stares at his boyfriend, can’t even comprehend him for a single moment. He doesn’t know how Blaine can do this; how can Blaine seem like a fucking loser and stand him up and Kurt still has to love him?

Because every day he wakes up and thinks of him. Cares about him. God— he doesn’t know what he’d do if something happened to him, and yet Kurt is still so aware of how fucking shit he can be.

But then he’s also aware of the pain, the hurt Blaine had to go through to be here, to be in this state, and he thinks about his own pain, too. God, he misses the time when he didn’t really give a shit about anything. And now, Blaine…

Is still standing on the sidewalk with that bottle of vodka in his hand and Kurt wants to hate him but he can’t, because there’s a pulling in his heart and it sings Blaine.

Back to the moment, and Kurt raises his eyebrows, rolls him eyes as he leans on the windowsill. He sighs, and his eyes are just focused on his boyfriend for a moment, then says, “Fine. I’ll let you in.”

He has to walk down the stairs quietly because even though he’d love to be an adult with complete free-reign over his life, he’s not. And his dad will kill him if he sees Blaine’s here at five fifty-two in the morning, not that he’s ever that happy with seeing Blaine over at his at all, especially after Burt knows what Blaine did to his son last night.

For a moment, he thinks about whether he should get changed but then remembers that his boyfriend is literally standing there, drunk on the pavement in the clothes he always wears and it doesn’t mean a thing, and he doesn;t deserve it anyway.

But Blaine still needs to be safe.

He opens the front door, and there Blaine is: leaning on the porch railing, so obviously drunk it’s absurd. Kurt doesn’t hesitate to grab his hand and drag him inside, muttering under his breath, “Jesus fucking christ Blaine, I actually— what the hell were you thinking?”

Blaine, now considerably closer to Kurt after he’s grabbed his arm, slurs, consonants fading into each other from the effects of the drink, “Dunno. Got bored,” he nestles further into the crevice between Kurt’s shoulder and neck and Kurt knows he’s lying. “Hmmmm,” he moans lightly out of contentment, “‘s warm here.”

“Okay, then. Come on,” Kurt says, still not being able to really believe the situation at hand, still angry at him, and hauls him up the stairs, “There’s only… twelve steps. Come on.” He says again, and Blaine has basically plastered himself against Kurt now, groaning, “‘s just… stay here.”

“No, Blaine. Come on. Twelve steps. And I’m fucking tired, so you should be thanking me for even letting you in after last night.”

“I said I was sorry!” Blaine argues back, then says, as if he’s completely forgotten the conversation, “Were you… trying to read Mrs— Miss—” Blaine lets out a humph and gives up trying to pronounce the correct word, “You were reading Dalloway again.” He slurs, and Kurt can feel his weight on him getting heavier, and god they really need to get up these stairs.

“It was only until one. Now. Come. On…” Kurt urges him again, giving his arm another tug. He really is too tired for this right now.

After a rather large amount of struggle, they make it to the top, and Kurt’s pretty amazed they haven’t even woken his dad yet. They stumble into his room, and the minute Blaine sees the bed he flops onto it, still holding the bottle of vodka. After realising he still has it, Kurt snatches it off him, says, “Why were you even up at this time, Blaine? God, even for you this is a stretch.”

“I wasn’t—” Blaine starts, words still slurred, “I woke up. At five.”

“And?”

“Was thinking about you. Couldn’t… couldn’t get back to s—sleep.”

“So you drank nearly a whole bottle of vodka.”

Blaine sighs melodramatically, “Yeah. Look, Kurt, it’s not— my mom’s not in town.” he says, as if that’s a perfect excuse. “I dunno. Then I thought of you. I’m so sorry.”

Kurt hesitates slightly, “You thought of me?”

“Yeah. ‘Bout how much I… care about you.”

“...I… care about you too,” Kurt says, as it’s hardly coherent he does - voice just above a whisper, like saying it louder would make the words so much harder to come to terms with. He knows Blaine will understand, even when he’s drunk, that those words are an acceptance of his apology.

It’s so weird, sometimes, because on the outside, around others, Blaine is just… different. And then when he’s with Kurt he’s so sweet, so soft and giving, and sometimes Kurt loses himself in it.

There are still so many hurdles to cross before Kurt can fully comprehend this - what he and Blaine have together - this sudden love that fell on Kurt’s shoulders so quickly. But it’s not a burden. Hardly anything but that, really. Every time he spends with Blaine it feels lighter, and it’s just something he doesn’t understand. How can one person make another feel that way?

They’re staring at each other for a moment, just falling into the other’s eyes again. And it’s nice. But thinking about this so deeply, this connection, Kurt finds himself becoming very aware of it. So he takes a deep breath in as if to say, anyway… and comments, “You need a new shirt. And we need to sleep. Take one of mine.”

Kurt throws a random T-shirt at Blaine, who huffs and toes off his shoes. Kurt has to help with removing his jeans and top and putting on the one Kurt has given him. Kurt doesn’t try and hide his blatant staring.

When Kurt slides into bed with Blaine he pipes up again, “Can I have the bottle back yet?”

Kurt tries not to laugh, “Blaine. You’re not having more vodka. It’s six AM.”

From somewhere inside the covers Kurt’s pretty sure Blaine mumbles, “Fuck you.” but he’s not too sure. He can’t stop the giggles that erupt from his chest.

With the curtains drawn and the sun only half seeping its way into the room, they fall asleep again, with half of Kurt wondering how he will be able to hide Blaine from his dad when they wake up again, and half of him not caring at all, just being here, wrapped in the blankets with his stupid, beautiful boyfriend, and forgives him.

#badboy!blaine #skank!kurt #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #klaine fanfiction #everything means everything #elsie writes #glee fanfiction #klaine #kurt x blaine #klaine fic #glee #masterlist #klaine prompt post fills

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