beer is my boyfriend

Two Beers and the Truth

An extremely late birthday fic for @wrathofthestag, who shares my hopes for Coach and Bitty. Here’s a little fic about how I hope the summer goes for the Bittle Clan…

         Bitty knew that coming out to coach would end one of three ways.

         The first scenario was the one that had kept him silent since middle school when he realized that it didn’t matter how many girls stole kisses from him, he just wasn’t interested. He could see Coach’s face turning to stone, the way it did when the Dawgs lost a game in overtime, and hear his father’s steely voice proclaiming I have no son. Some nights he would still wake up shaking when he thought about that scenario, if he was lucky, Jack would be there to gather him up and mutter soothing bits of nonsense into his hair as he trembled.

         The second scenario was more likely, but still not something Bitty was looking forward to. Coach would press his lips together until they disappeared behind his mustache, then nod with a resigned air. If he was lucky, Bitty would get an awkward slap on the back and Coach would mutter something Suzanne told him Oprah said to say. It would be disappointment, but acceptance. Some days Bitty wondered if that wouldn’t be worse than outright anger.

         The third scenario Bitty blamed on Chowder, who seemed to think everyone in the world would be thrilled with a gay son. In this dream setup, Coach cried, opening his arms to his son and assuring Bitty that he could never be prouder of a child. They would cry together, then, hugged up on the porch swing, talking about life and maybe boys.

         Bitty bit his lip, wondering which scenario he would be living through. He rolled his shoulder, preparing for a disappointed pat. He glanced at his mother in the kitchen.

         With a sigh, Suzanne moved to the refrigerator, picking out two beers and holding them out to Bitty. She kissed his forehead. “Go on, I’ll be doing dishes if you need me.”

         Bitty nodded and looked toward the porch again.

         “I can do this,” he muttered. “For me. For Jack.”

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You Found Me - Jeff Atkins

Title: You Found Me

Person: Jeff Atkins

Warnings: mention of his accident, angst, like 2 cuss words

GIF IS MINE but i guess it’s not working

When you started dating someone your freshman high school, you never thought you’d call him the love of your life. However, Jeff was different than the guys you’ve gone out with. He was a jock, specifically involved with baseball, but he wasn’t cocky or an ass. He was genuinely concerned about others before himself, a quality that you fell for.


It all ended that summer night. You knew Jeff, he was smart enough to know how much he can handle. You had seen him just before he left, a cup of soda in hand. He kissed you goodbye, went to get beer but never came back. The cops said his death was because he was drunk, but you knew otherwise.


Everyone was walking on eggshells around you at school, being careful not to say the wrong thing, except for Clay and Hannah. It was your first day back after taking a few days off. You open your locker, taking a deep breath. Swinging the door open, you’re greeted with a photo of you and Jeff, the one you both loved. Running your fingers over the photo, you remember the night you took it. You’re too focused on the photo to see Hannah and Clay walking towards you. They stop, looking at you. Hannah had mouthed something to Clay, telling him to stay put. She places a hand on your arm, causing you to turn towards her, now sobbing into her shoulder. She pulls you into a reassuring embrace, now waving Clay over.

“He really loved you, you know.” Clay told you.

You nod, a tear running down your face.

“I know, but he wasn’t drunk. I know Jeff. He was responsible and smart. Not an idiot.” You sighed, wiping under your eyes.

“(Y/N),” Hannah began to say, “I know what happened.”

“Tell me.”

“(Y/N), you shouldn’t-”

“Tell me, please.” You begged, your voice breaking.

“Before Jeff left for the beer run, he had asked Sheri to move her car. I needed a ride home so I went with her. My phone had died, so I was going to use hers to tell my parents I’d be spending the night at her place. She was driving as she was digging through her purse trying to find it. She looked down for a minute and when she looked back up, she slammed on the brakes and hit right into the stop sign. It had fallen over, so we both got out of the car to see if there was any damage. I told her we need to call the police to report that a stop sign had fallen over. She got flustered with me and drove away. I walked to the nearest gas station and used a phone to report where it happened and they told me that police had already been dispatched. I thought Sheri had call them…”

“It was me,” Clay interjected. “I called them. I had, um, I found Jeff.”

“Son of a bitch.” You chuckled in disbelief, shaking your head before walking away.

“(Y/N), wait a second,” Clay said, catching up to you. “They found this on Jeff the night of the accident. He told me about it, he wanted to give it to you that night. The paramedics dropped it when they, uh, when they moved him.”  Clay’s hand dug into his backpack, pulling out a box with your name on it. You opened it, revealing a promise ring. Jeff had told you that he’d get you one, but you never thought he was serious. You breath hitched in your throat, tears rushing to your eyes faster than before.

“Thank you, Clay. I needed this.” All Clay did was smile slightly back to you, letting you go and do what you needed to: confront Sheri.


The bell rang, dismissing you from your economics class that you had with the girl who killed your boyfriend. You couldn’t look at her, it physically made you sick. You were forced to work with her but instead you worked by yourself. Why work with the person who killed the person you loved the most?

You walked out of the classroom, heading towards the parking lot when a familiar voice stops you.

“(Y/N), wait.” You continue walking, even picking up the pace a little bit. Sheri was desperate you guess, she ran up in front of you, causing you to stop dead in your tracks.

“What could you possibly want, Sheri?”

“Are you mad at me for some reason?”

You rolled your eyes and kept walking. Don’t make a scene, she’s not worth it. Sheri repeated her moves once again, however you walked around her.

“(Y/N)-”

“You want to know why I’m mad at you? Is that what you really want?”

“Why don’t want we talk about this on the ride home, I’ll drive you.” She told you as she started walking.

“So you can knock down a stop sign and cause someone else’s boyfriend to get into a car accident? No thanks.” You yelled to her, your arms folded across your chest.

She turns around with a shocked look painted on her face. Everyone began crowding around you guys, almost as if a fight were about to go down. So much for not making a scene.

“You hit into a stop sign, knocking it over and you didn’t even bother to call the police. You needed to get away or go home because when you’re with your dad, you have a curfew right? Because of your reputation, you didn’t want to be held responsible or be known as ‘the girl who hit a stop sign.’ My boyfriend went on a beer run that night, sober. He was drinking soda before he left. So on his way back when he went through that intersection, he collided with someone because you didn’t have the decency to report the stop sign.”

Everyone around you started whispering, their eyes never leaving you or Sheri.

“(Y/N)-”

“You wanna know what was found in his pocket that night?” You asked, pulling the promise ring out of your coat pocket. “He got me a promise ring. He told Clay that he was going to give it to me later that night. He planned on leaving early with me. We were supposed to go to one of the cliffs overlooking the water. Right then, he was going to give it to me. But because of your ignorance, I’ll never get to have another memory with the one person in this school who made me feel like the only person on the planet.” You paused, wiping a stray tear from your eye. “Screw you, Sheri.”

The Patriot’s Boy - Chris Evans

Request:  hello, can you write a Chris Evans x reader where they’re at the super bowl and reader is a huge Falcons fan and at the end when the patriots made the comeback, reader is upset while Chris is all happy but Chris kisses the reader and she doesn’t kiss back at first but eventually she can’t resist and she accepts the results. Sorry for this very detailed request but after seeing Chris’ reaction and me being a Falcons fan, I really want to see a imagine like this. 

people: Chris Evans!Super Bowl x Reader (Falcons Fan) 

warnings: none.lol.  



“Are you fucking kidding me!” I screamed out into the raging crowd as I saw the score become tied. 

“Fuck!” I growled, sipping on my beer while my boyfriend went ape-shit on me and was jumping up and down like he’d just heard that he could fuck Tom Brady right here, right now. 

I am 90% he’d take that offer too, to be honest. 

“Aw, is little YN upset that her Fal-can't’s are falling behind the Pat’s?” I glared up at Rivalry Renner and gave him that finger while I reached over and stole a mozzarella stick off of Scott’s plate. Viciously eating it as if it was the whole Patriot’s team. 

“Shut up, Renner. They just caught up, it’s not like they fucking won or something!” He laughed and shoved my shoulder gently in return, easing me up a little from my very unattractive quality: sports rage. Luckily, my boyfriend and I shared this quality but somehow he still managed to keep looking attractive. That bastard. 

I felt a hand stroke my hair as I sat back in my seat, getting back into the zone as I texted my friend back in our hometown, Atlanta I was telling her about the injustice that was happening out on the field, I needed a fellow Falconer to help ease my stress. 

“Hey grouchy girl, why the long face?” I felt relaxed when I saw Chris sit down next to me, putting an arm over my shoulder to pull me in for a quick squeeze. 

“I’m just… detoxing from the savageness out on the field. How the fuck can they have Tom Brady even out there?! He’s such a-” I felt Chris’s lips on mine suddenly, with air still left in my mouth. He held the sides of my face in a firm grip, I could feel my eyes drift closed before he released me in shock. I opened my eyes to a nose pressed against my cheek and a hot breath in my ear, “I don’t let my girl say shit about Tom Brady.” 

Pulling back, I smirked, standing up. “Well, I don’t let my boyfriend get some when he tells me what to say.” Dusting myself off I walked away to the bathrooms, only to find a line farther than half the football field. 

But a girl’s gotta sacrifice her time though when she needs the bathroom. 

By the time I got back, it was nearing the end and Chris looked a bit worried, texting ferociously on his phone, right before he looked up at me in a worried glance, “Where’ve you been! I’ve been texting you-” 

“There’s no reception in the bathroom area, dummy. Besides where’d you think I was going? Back to the car to sulk? Nah, because-” I felt hands touch my shoulders and their grips tighten as suddenly it was like a kick in the balls if I had any, my Falcon’s had lost. 

“Oh! Fuck! Fuck yeah, yeah! Woah! Yeah! That’s right, baby! That’s what I’m fucking talking about!” Chris screamed, jumping up and down and bouncing off of mine and Scott’s shoulders as the confetti hit the field and Patriot fans screamed. 

Chris tugged me into his arms and spun me around, tilting me down into a cheesy kiss that I tensed up at. I was fuckin’ pissed. No one shit’s on my Falcon’s and gets away with it. 

But, Chris was really giving me a kiss here, and this wasn’t just a peck, this was one full blown passionate kiss. With one hand holding me in a tilt and the other gently placed right under my ear, caressing my cheek with his warm thumb. Pulling me closer he put all he could into this kiss, every emotion he felt in this exact moment was taken by Chris, and somehow he managed to put it all within his lips as he held me with no space left between us anymore. 

I swear, in that moment the stadium was silent. No screams were heard, just the hot breaths between us. That’s all I heard in my ears. Slowly the wind he’d knocked right out of me returned, and soon I was back. Alive and in this tragic, yet unforgettable moment. 

As he pulled away slowly, tugging on my bottom lip just slightly before letting it fall back into place, swollen from the quick movements between my lips and his. Pulling each other’s lips back and forth like it was a war that we had no intentions of ending. 

He brought me back up and held me close to his chest as we swayed back and forth. His body was almost vibrating off energy from his Patriot’s winning. 

I felt his breath tickle my ear as he whispered into it with a smirk that I was gonna slap off his face any second. “I didn’t want you to be upset again. I can’t tell you what to do, I’m sorry. But in all fairness, I was caught up in the game and my guys beating yours.” Pulling back to get a look at that dumb ass grin plastered on those perfect lips of his, I couldn’t help the smile that found it’s way onto my own lips. 

“You are such a fuckin’ dork, you know that right? You literally have a Patriotic Erection right now.” Chris belted out a laugh, clutch his left peck for a moment before holding me to his chest again, breathing deeply as he let the moment sink in for him. 

“You may have no taste in football teams, baby. But you do have a lip on ya, and I fuckin’ love it. Come here, babe.” Chris crashed his lips into mine and held onto my waist, bunching up the sides of my Jersey. 

“You may be full on hard for Tommy right now, but I love you too. Even if you’re a mother fucker for beating me.” I saw his beautiful smile again and his heartbeat that leaped out of his chest from the crowd’s roars and rumbles. 

God, I loved my Patriot Man. 

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Oh Shit

gif is not mine

Title: Oh Shit

Pairing: Gabriel x Reader

Word Count: 1,182

Warnings: Cursing, fluff

A/N: This was requested by an Anon! I hope you all love this!! You can send in headcanons until 12/05/2016 EST for the 500 follower celebration! Also I forgot I was going to post this today, so I’ll start posting headcanons on Monday!

After a tough and grueling hunt, you wanted to let loose.  Being around Sam and Dean wasn’t going to help either.  They argued the whole way back to the bunker.  Bringing them to the bar was not an option.  You wanted to bring Gabriel with you, but he was busy with Castiel.  They were tracking down Lucifer.  You convinced yourself you didn’t need your boyfriend Gabriel to be around for you to have fun.

When you arrived at the bar, you were dressed in a pair of tight jeans, a flannel, and a jacket that Gabriel had given you.  Nothing too revealing; nothing that said “I’m available”.  You felt confident and excited to get a night to yourself to relax.  You strolled into the bar, observing what they had to offer.  There was a stage for karaoke and of course a bar where they served alcohol.  There was already someone on stage, obviously drunk as they sang, but everyone cheered anyway.

As you reached the bar you ordered a couple shots of whiskey.  You realized you had forgotten to eat before you left.  A chuckle escaped your lips, knowing that this meant the alcohol would hit you much harder than you expected.  You turned your head to the left seeing someone who hadn’t taken their eyes off of you the whole time.  You were with Gabriel, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t talk friendly to other guys, right?

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Gay cuckold story from Reddit

It started innocently enough: a craigslist couple looking for a third. The Top is 28, 5'10", 150 with a 7" dick. The bottom is 26, 5'7", 135, and smooth. Both white dudes. I respond back: 31, 6 foot, 165, athletic with a 8" dick. Scruffy, and looking for now. After a few messages and an exchanging of pics, I show up to their house. They offer a drink and want to get comfortable; I just want to fuck but why not. They’ve been together for the last three years, and have just started opening up; they only look for Tops, and always play safe.

Halfway through my beer, I’m getting bored with the small talk, so I start feeling up the Top, and go in for a kiss. This disarms them, I find…I’m about to fuck a Top’s man, and including him at the beginning always seems to make it go better. We start making out, and I can feel the bottom going for my fly. Within seconds, he has my cock out and is sucking it, while he is fumbling with his boyfriend’s pants to get to his cock too. I pinch the Top’s right nipple while making out, and hear him moan through my mouth, still ignoring the bottom boy as he is now going back and forth between sucking my dick and sucking his partners.

After a few minutes, I stand up, take off the remainder of my clothes, kiss the bottom, and bend him over the couch. I feel his ass: perky with a light dusting of hair. I rub my finger down his crack and onto his rosebud, and he jumps. I kiss the Top again, smile, and start rimming the bottom, pulling the Top’s face in and dueling our tongues over his hole. I put the top on rimming duty as I go around to the front and have the bottom suck me: he’s real good. Cute, innocent face with slightly shaggy blonde hair, light layer of scruff, right amount of suction. I see the Top lubing up his ass, and I go to the back. The Top breaks out a condom, puts it on me, and guides my dick in. I go slowly, and the Top just sits back on the couch and watches me fuck his boyfriend.

I assume we’re going to trade off, but the Top is just content sitting there. I motion him over to kiss me, and he says he just wants to watch. Okay–one of these–not a problem. I flip his boyfriend over so he is facing me as I fuck him missionary. It’s a standard fuck: a good ten minutes or so with good chemistry and lots of making out. As I’m getting close I ask him where he wants me to cum, and he whispers that his boyfriend likes watching it, so on his chest. I pull out, rip the condom off, and shoot on his chest. The Top cums when he seems me shoot, and jerks his load out over his body, which then sets off the bottom.

We all get cleaned up, I turn down another drink, and I head out.

A couple days later, the bottom sends me a text saying they want a repeat. I text back that I am a bit confused by what happened, and that normally threesomes involve more contact between the parties instead of one watching. He confides that his boyfriend is getting into being a cuckold, and gets off on watching him get fucked by “real men”. This is interesting–I start googling. Dan Savage has a recent article that gay cuckolding seems to have started a couple of years ago (right around when gay marriage started), and has picked up all the terms and behavoirs of straight cuckolding. Cool–so it’s not about the other top; he wants to see his boy get used by a real man. I always aim to please.

I start texting the bottom to find out what he is into, and the bottom likes dominant guys that use him. He likes throat fucking and hard fucks. While I would normally never abuse a guy like that with his boyfriend watching, if the Top is into this, I’m always game. I ask him where he likes cum. He takes a few minutes to respond, and then says that he loves cum in him. He corrects himself, and says that he likes cum in his mouth. I press, and he admit that he loves being bred, but his boyfriend would never let him get barebacked and that they always play safe.

Cool.

We set up another meet-up for that Thursday night. I tell the bottom not to tell his Top that he told me all this.

I show up to their house at 8, and the Bottom offers to grab all three of us drinks. I kiss the bottom, hard, and look at the Top.

“Go get me and your boyfriend a beer.”

The Top seems confused as last time I was focused on him, but turns and goes to the kitchen. I take the Bottom’s shirt off, whispers in his ear that we’re going to put on a show for his Top tonight, and start making out with him. The boyfriend comes back from the kitchen, and stops when he sees the two of us making out intimately. I look over, tell him to bring my beer. I push his boyfriend down to his knees, and his boyfriend gets the hint and immediately unzips my jeans to get to my cock.

“Open my beer.”

The Top does.

I grab it from him, and take a few swigs. The Top tries to kiss me, and I stop him, and instead push his bottom’s face on my dick so he starts gagging. I hand the Top my half-empty beer, and tell him to go sit on the couch and watch a real man please his boyfriend. I can see his face get read in a combination of shame and lust, and he does what he is told and goes and sits down. I face fuck his boyfriend for awhile, taking my dick out periodically and slapping it on his face. The bottom keeps looking up with his scruffy blonde hair and innocent green eyes.

I look over at the Top periodically to see how he is responding: it’s one thing to watch porn and fantasize and it’s another to watch the person you love participate in it. He has a face full of lust, and is solely focused on my dick. He has his cock out and is jerking himself. I tell him to stop. He does.

I stop the bottom, and pull my jeans completely off. I pull the dude up to his feet, and make out with him. Even though I just have an inch in dick size on his boyfriend, I start to whisper loudly in his ear while pulling him close to me so his top can hear, “your man doesn’t fill you up, does he? You need a real guy to fuck you with a real dick, instead of his small, pathetic one.”

I look over on the couch, where the Top is pinching his nipples with a rock hard erection. I can tell he is getting flustered: I don’t think anyone has ever talked to his boyfriend like this.

I put the Bottom on all fours, and get down behind him and dig my face into his ass. He can feel my scruff caressing the inside of his cheeks, with my tongue finding his hole repeatedly. He is moaning loudly, and I talk directly to him.

“You like that, don’t you? Your boyfriend doesn’t treat your ass like it should. You need a real guy to fuck you and give you pleasure.”

I go back to rimming.

After a few minutes, I look over at the Top on the couch, and tell him to get the lube and come over. He grabs the lube and a couple of condoms. The top reaches for my chest, and I pull away:

“Lube up your boy’s ass. He needs a real man to fuck him.”

Still on all fours, the bottom gets lubed up from his boyfriend, whose cock I don’t think can get harder. I lift the bottom to just on his knees, and while looking down on him I make out with him.

“Get on your back on the floor. I’m going to fuck you here on the rug.”

His boyfriend is fumbling with opening the condom as I lift the bottom’s legs.

“Lube up my dick,” I tell the Top.

“But….” he stammers. “We only play safe with other guys.”

I just look the Top up and down. I can see him thinking, and watch his dick get even harder. With a bright red face, he breathlessly lubes up the head of my dick. I see the Top look at his boyfriend, and see his boyfriend nodding.

“Just stick the tip in. Then you need a condom.”

I look over at the Top, and make eye contact.

“Lube up my dick.”

I see him blush even harder, and he lubes up my entire dick. I look down at his bottom, who is on his back leaking copious amounts of pre-cum, and stick my raw dick against his hole. I pull his legs up farther against me, and I slide the tip in. The bottom starts to moan, and is looking over at the Top to make sure it is okay. I look too, and see the Top nodding his head.

“Fuck, that’s so hot.”

I tell the Top to get on all fours, and to watch as my dick goes in and out of his boy’s hole. He does. I go back to the bottom and start to making out with him, stopping periodically to check in.

“You like this dick in you? You like what it likes to have a real man in your ass, instead of that small cock that your boyfriend has? I bet he can’t even get it up to fuck you right, can he?”

The bottom just moans. The top goes to touch his own dick, and I tell him to stop: I know that if he cums this is going to be over.

“Get back on the couch and watch me fuck your boyfriend.”

His face gets red again, but he does. He sits there rockhard and watches.

I fuck his boyfriend. Missionary. Doggy. On his side. Bent over the couch armrest. I always position his boy so the Top can see my raw dick going in and out, and I can see the pre-cum flowing directly out of his dick and onto him. I’m getting close.

I look over at the Top:

“I’m getting close. I’m on prep, clean, and just got tested. Where is my cum going?”

The top blushes again. He stammers.

“I, um, I….”

I look down at the bottom, who looks back up at me as he is getting plowed while bent over the armrest.

“Do it.” He says. “Breed me.”

I’ve pushed this couple far enough tonight that I know they are going to have awkward conversations tomorrow. It’s enough for me to know that they both have gone far over what they thought they would be comfortable with. I pull out.

“Get on your knees.” I tell the bottom.

I open his mouth with my left hand as I jerk off with my right, and put a giant load in his mouth. He looks up at me, a cute face with innocent green eyes, and I can see my cum coating his tongue and all over his scruff.

“Don’t swallow yet.”

I look over at his Top, and rotate the bottom’s face so the Top can see the cum all over him. He is jerking off rapidly.

“Next time this load is in your boy’s ass.”

The Top cums.

I grab a towel, wipe my dick off, get dressed, and leave.

@floridaexhib321

help a disabled, gay/trans jew survive

hi, i’m isak. i’m 26.

i was recently homeless and my housing situation rn isn’t the most secure. i only have the equivalent of a high school degree and i can’t work the kind of jobs i’m qualified for due to schizoaffective disorder, CFS and a damaged left ulnar nerve. i’m also a trans man and visibly gay, making employment even more dicey.

i have no support from my (physically and emotionally abusive) family, who refuse to acknowledge my transition, oppose my conversion to judaism and have been trying to make me return home so they can control my life again. they also have a history of denying me medical treatment, including psychiatric treatment. reaching out to them for help is out of the question.

i need money for food, rent, transportation (especially to and from shul, which is one of the few contacts i have outside of my home) and the occasional nice things for myself. i used to depend on my ex for most of this, but lately he’s been refusing to send me any more money, leaving me with very few options.

(also—my roommate—a business student with a job—has started stealing from me. fancy imported beer i’d bought to treat myself and my boyfriend when he visits next went missing from the fridge and i really can’t afford to write that kind of thing off; the emotional cost is also p. bad. i was looking forward to that.)

as a note—i’ve applied for ESA, so i’m working on getting benefits. there are some hurdles to overcome before they’ll pay me, so i’m relying on donations for the time being.

i am also currently saving up to have my gender legally changed in the UK, which will cost £140. i can get help with this fee, but that has the same hurdles as getting ESA—i am having a lot of difficulty opening a british bank account.

my paypal is simonemmetts@gmail.com

thank you for reading this far. if you can donate, even as little as £1 will make a difference to me. if you can’t donate, please, please reblog. thank you.

tired-emotions  asked:

Hey I wanted to know if you can make a thing were Draco gets jealous of Ron hitting on Harry? Just a random thing :P

Draco was sitting in the eighth year common room on the couch, using one arm to read, while the other was draped lazily over Harry’s shoulder.

Harry was cuddled up next to Draco and was talking to Ron.

“Hey Harry,” said Ron, “ what do you say about you and me going to hogsmeade for a butterbeer?” Ron asked while giving Harry a wink.

Draco was trying very hard not to pay too much attention to Wea- Ron, and Harry’s conversation, though his mind kept wandering back to what Ron just asked.

‘He doesn’t mean like a date right?’ Thought Draco, ‘I mean he does know that Harry is my boyfriend, and he wouldn’t ask Harry out on a date if he knows that he’s my boyfriend, right?’

While Draco was having his little epiphany, Ron was very much aware of what he just asked Harry. You could practically see the gears in Malfoy’s head shifting, trying to make out what Ron had meant.

Ron very much liked to make Draco jealous. It was a pass time of his if you will. He would never think to go on date with Harry. They were too much like brothers for him to even fathom the idea. Though it did come in useful when he wanted to play a joke on Malfoy.

“Sure, why not. I could go for a butter beer right now” Harry said while getting off the couch.

As Harry got off, he kissed Draco’s cheek as a goodbye and made way to go out with Ron.

This seemed to bring Draco back to reality, as he too, got off the couch and made his way to Ron and Harry.

He quickly made it to Harry’s side just as he saw Ron put his arm around Harry’s shoulder. That seemed to really set him off.

“Weasley, a word if you will,” asked Draco tensely.

He pulled Ron toward a corner and gave the the famous Malfoy sneer.

“What do you think you’re doing, taking my boyfriend to go get a butter beer?” Asked Draco through gritted teeth.

Ron just gave a lazy smile and shrugged his shoulders.

“What? He wasn’t doing anything so I just asked, plus he’s cute.”

Ron knew he was taking a risk saying that Harry was cute l, but it was well worth the expression that Malfoy had on his face. He was practically livid with what Ron just said. Draco grabbed Ron’s collar and was about to demand that he repeat what he just said about Harry, when said person arrived beside them.

“What’s going on here? Ron, weren’t we going to get a butter beer, and Draco, love why are you grabbing on to Ron’s shirt like that? Please let him go.”

Draco did let go, but that doesn’t mean that he wasn’t any less mad about what Ron had said.

“Ron, could you wait by the door for me please? I’ll just be a minute with this one.” Harry said while pointing a finger at Draco.

Ron did as he was told and then it was just Draco and Harry.

“Draco,” Harry began softly “why were you mad at Ron. Did he do something to you?”

Draco took a couple of deep breaths before he spoke to Harry. He hated admitting his feelings to people, especially when they made him seem vulnerable. Harry was the only exception in this case.

“I don’t like how he was talking to you,” Draco began “he knows I’m your boyfriend, but he’s always doing stuff like this to make me angry. Walking with you to classes, eating with you in the great hall, and now taking you to go get butter beer.” Draco then crossed his arms and pouted. “That’s my job.”

Harry then gave him such a big smile.

He knows that Draco doesn’t like to talk about his feelings, he rarely does. Though there are times when he will, and Harry is so proud of him for those.

He goes up to Draco and with his hand gently caresses his cheek. Draco closes his eyes and leans into the touch.

Harry then moves forward a little and presses their lips together. It’s a sweet kiss. A reassuring kiss. A kiss that shows that Harry isn’t going anywhere.

When they break apart Harry speaks first.

“Oh Draco,” Harry starts “ I love you so much, you know that. I don’t want you to think that Ron’s replacing you because he isn’t. He’s like a brother to me. It’s ok that he walks me to classes, and sits with me in the great hall, and takes me out to butter beer. Do you know why?”

Draco shakes his head.

“Because when it’s cold or I’m feeling sad, it’s you I get to cuddle with. When I’m happy, it’s you that I get to kiss, and it’s you that I get to call my boyfriend, not Ron. I understand that you’re jealous, but there’s no need. It’s you that I want Draco, and it’s you that I have”

Draco didn’t know what to say. So he didn’t say anything. Instead he kissed Harry. A kiss so full of passion and love, and everything else that Draco felt about the boy in front of him.

About the boy he loves,

And about the boy who loves him back.
___________________________________________________

I’m sorry if this is really bad. I don’t usually write things. Actually I don’t write things at all. This is the first ficlet thing that I’ve ever written, so excuse me if it’s not that great.

At the Same Level.

Author: b0blegum

Pairing: Choi Youngjae x Reader

Rating: PG (but who wants their parents to read this with them tho, just read at your own risk lmao)

Genre: Smutty-Fluff

Status: COMPLETED

Part: One-Shot

a/n okay, so this is actually requested by @fannyfransiscaaa. I don’t know if she’d like this as much as i do, but let’s just hope this is also her cup of tea x


Saturday, 9pm.

Nothing much different than any other weekends. The apartment is quiet. You, reading a book you haven’t got the chance to finish it since last month and Youngjae, your flat-mate, busy clicking mouse and torturing the keypad with eyes locked on bright computer screen.

You and him are not fond of going out on weekends, because both of you share the same thought; why would one go out on weekend when they were out everyday on weekdays? Were those 5 days not enough?

“Youngjae!” You shouted from your room. You always let your door open. Except when you are showering or sleeping, of course.

“Hm?” He hummed, without taking his eyes off the screen.

“I am hungry.” He kept quiet, waiting for your next chain of words. “Want to order some chicken?”

“No, shit!”

Keep reading

You With Her

Requested by Anon: “Heello! I was wondering if you could do an imagine where the reader and archie are dating but she see archie and veronica nearlh kissing and she brokes up with him and he is trying to win her back with cute little thing? Just the readrr being har to get? Thank you so much♥️”

A/N: Please note that my mother tongue isn’t English so there might be some mistakes. Feel free to correct me if I made mistakes! Also, feedback is always appreciated. xx

Pairing: Archie Andrews x Reader
Warning: self-doubt, insecurity, angst
Words: 1,208

Sighing I sipped at my cup of beer, which was probably my fourth one, waiting for my boyfriend, Archie, to come back. He just wanted to get himself another drink. I decided to go look for him since he was gone for quite a while now. The first place I looked for him was the kitchen; all the beer being there. As I entered the room I immediately regretted it. The scene in front of my eyes made my heart ache. My eyes filled with tears. Archie’s and Veronica’s faces were only a few inches apart, ready to attack the lips of the other any second. “Nice to know that you two have fun,” I said in a monotone voice, trying to hide the pain I was feeling in that moment.

They turn their heads immediately towards me, distancing their bodies from one another. A shocked impression on both of their faces. Both must have realized what they were about to do. “I-We-I can explain,” Archie stuttered, panic filling his voice. “Save it. We’re over. You two can enjoy yourselves without worrying that I’ll be in the way,” I hissed running out of the house, leaving the loud music, happy teenagers, and the two people who meant the most to me behind. The salty tears were now streaming freely over my reddened cheeks. I felt so betrayed but I also knew that it had to happen one day. It was obvious that Veronica ‘s in every way possible better than me. But it still hurt like hell seeing them so close.

The first school day after the incident was hard, almost impossible to survive. I felt like everyone’s eyes were on me; laughing because they knew he would choose her over me eventually. But that wasn’t even the worst. The worst was seeing the red-haired boy I loved so much in the hallways, in classes, everywhere I looked. He tried to talk to me but I always walked away. Ronnie attempted to talk to me as well but I did the same I did with Archie. Even though I wanted nothing more than to go home, hide under the blanket, and cry my eyes out until I finally would fall asleep, I knew I couldn’t. I had to pretend to be strong, I had to pretend it didn’t bother me at all. Not sure if I wanted them to believe I’m fine or if I wanted to make myself believe it.

Archie began to leave small notes in my locker, trying to get me to forgive him. Several cute little things were written on them.

I’ll never stop regret hurting you.”
You’re the light in my darkest hours. I need my light back.”
Without you there’s no reason for me to even keep trying.”
The day you said yes when I asked you out was the best day of my life.”

A small smile made its way on my lips when I read all the notes I received over and over again. I still couldn’t bring myself to face him or Veronica, even though the party was two weeks ago. Sure I missed them like crazy but the self-doubt was too much. I just couldn’t turn the toxic thoughts off. They kept telling me that she was better for him anyways.

A sound from my phone interrupt my thoughts, signaling me that someone sent me a message. I grabbed the device and unlocked it.

I know you probably still don’t wanna talk to me but please meet me at Sweetwater River in an hour.
-A

After I argued with myself for a while I decided maybe it was the best to go meet him. I stood up from my bed and walked to the mirror to prepare myself both emotionally and physically. Not quite sure how it all will end I made my way to Sweetwater River. While walking up there a lot of thoughts rushed into my mind.

What if he just wants to say that he’s with Veronica now?
What if it’s all just a prank?
I wouldn’t blame him if he chose her over me. I’d do the same if I was him.

To say I was nervous would probably be the biggest understatement ever. When I arrived Archie was already there. He stood with his back turned to me, facing the water. With shaking breath I walked up to him, standing right beside him. “Glad you came,” he said, still looking at the same spot. I inhaled deeply before I opened my mouth to speak. “Seeing you with her so close, so intimate,” I pause for a second. “It broke me, Arch.” He wanted to say something but I cut him off before even a noise could leave his mouth. “Don’t. It’s my turn.”

My chest felt heavy but at the same time it felt so great to get all off of my chest. “You know, I always wondered if you wouldn’t be better off with her. I probably shouldn’t say that because she’s my best friend but it’s true.” I took a deep breath, trying to keep myself calm as I felt tears welling up. “She’s like the definition of ‘perfection’. She’s smart, and funny, and confident. Plus, she’s incredibly beautiful. She’s all that guys could ever ask for,” I whispered. My eyes were focused on the ground beneath me. “Honestly I don’t understand why we started dating in the first place when you could have her from the beginning. It doesn’t make sense to me, you know?” A tear finally escaped my eyes, next ones following it quickly, wetting my cheeks.

“Stop saying that, Y/N. I know I messed up real bad but that doesn’t mean you can think so little of yourself. I never liked Ronnie, I never will. You’re the only one for me. You’re my definition of ‘perfection’, no one else, not even her,” he said. I could feel his eyes on me so I lifted my head to look at him. “I just don’t get it, Archie,” I sobbed. “I’m sorry that I made you feel this way.” He wrapped his arms around me. “I really hate how much I love you sometimes,” I mumbled in his chest. “I know,” he whispered in my hair, pressing a small kiss on it.

“Do you remember our first date?” he asked after a while. “Of course, I do. It was so embarrassing. I couldn’t even get one sentence out without stuttering. I was so nervous,” laughed lightly at the memory. “I thought it was cute,” he smiled. “Or that one time you stood up for Jughead when Reggie decided to be a dick again,” Archie laughed. “That was the moment I realized I loved you,” he added. “I remember. Reggie’s face was totally worth it,” I laughed loudly.

“I really missed you the past few days.” Archie’s voice got serious. “Yeah, me, too. Like crazy,” I agreed. He pressed another soft kiss on my hair. “I’m glad we sorted this out. I really can’t lose you.” I nodded my head in agreement, and tightened my grip around him. As cheesy as it sounds I never wanted to let go of him ever again.

What are you afraid of?

Fandom: Xmen

Warnings: cursing, danger?, Angst, feelllsssss

Pairing: m/m Peter Maximoff x male reader

6. “Oh my God! You’re in love with him!”

86. “I’m tired of being your secret.”

Originally posted by leafywinchester


@cosplayinganimedork requested:

86 6 Hello! I love your stories. Can you do a Peter Maximoff x Reader story where the reader is male (I can never find any stories that aren’t female) based off prompts 86 and 6 where Peter and the reader are secretly gay and dating but no one knows because they don’t know how everyone would react? But Peter somehow accidentally gives it away to his friends that he likes the reader and then both have to come clean to everyone about their relationship? Thank you!


Answer: thank you so much for this request! I love writing m/m though I don’t have much experience with it so I don know how good this is. I didn’t really write the part when they were supposed to ‘come clean’, but if enough people want it I’m willing to write a part two. I was super inspired with this one so I wrote a lot, might have gotten carried away …

I hope you like it!



“Hey y/n, we’re going out tonight, wanna come? The last one to get a girl to dance with them looses,” Scott Summers waved, calling him over. Y/n winced internally, trying not to stare too long at Peter as he joined the four men. But the jovial silver-haired mutant didn’t even blink when he shook his hand casually and smirked.


“Bad luck my man, so far the bets are against you,” Warren chuckled while tapping his cigarette cinders on the damp grass. They were all grouped around a tree in the flourishing mansion garden, Kurt hanging from his tail, Warren and Peter leaning against it, the latter eating a Twinkie and jittering on his feet as usual, and Scotty sitting with his legs stretched out and hands behind his head, soaking in the afternoon sunlight. It was Friday, they only had an hour of class left before they were done for the weekend and training for some, like y/n and Warren, the latest recrutes.


They had met in the underground battle rings, on same sides, and after Apocalypse the Archangel had come back for him, having created a small bond of friendship with the mutant. He took him back to the x-mansion, where he became one of the X-Men. That, was when he met the funniest, most beautiful man he had ever seen. The one and only Peter Maximoff had swept him off his feet and charmed him from day one with his smirks and witty comebacks, and a few weeks later he fell desperately, miserably​ in love with him. A kiss and a confession later, Peter’s reprocicated feelings were brought out to daylight and they started dating. Peter was to scared to tell the others yet though: nobody knew of his sexual orientation and he had some really big rejection issues, but his lovely boyfriend was willing to wait, anything to make him feel better. Besides, he wasn’t out of the closet either.


“Maybe we could even ask the girls to come along,” y/n pushed aside his distressing thoughts, throwing a teasing look at Scott.


“Yeah, why not? I’ll ask Jean to tell them.” He could tell he was trying to sound casual, but everyone knew of both mutants neverending crush on each other, and it was killing them to watch them continue on ignoring it. Maybe tonight was their night.


The bell rang, and they all parted ways, exited to be over with it and finally go party. Y/n was mainly planning on drinking, at least enough to take his mind off watching the love of his life flirt and bat his beautiful, dark chocolate eyes at some random college girl in a cheerleader skirt. He hated it.


As he trudged up the steps behind Warren on his was to the training room, leaving some space so as not to risk a sudden flap of his giant wings, he felt something flash by him. He barely caught a glance of silver before he felt his heart flutter at the feel of soft lips on his cheek, familiar and warm. He smiled, but the instant was gone as quick as it had come, without a sound or anyone noticing. He realized he had pressed what felt like a wrapper into the palm of his hand. He gripped it tight, shoving into his pocket.


He waited until he was alone in the changing room after Warren had left before pulling the Twinkie wrapper out, feeling his lips curl into a small smile at the messy handwriting scrawled on in silver sharpie, which he had bought him as a gift to match his hair.


Meet me at our spot after class?

Love you babe

xoxoxo 


 He barely had the time to set foot into the small alcove that the mansion seemed to be full of when a hand gripped his arm an pulled him in, holding him captive with another hand on the small of his back. He let out an ungracefull “Hey!-” before he was cut off by soft, plump lips in a sweet, longing kiss, lips moving in sync, then tongues rolling together in some sort of dance. 

 “God it’s been too long,” Peter whispered when they broke apart, setting his forehead on y/n’s, staring at him with his giant, puppy-dog like eyes.

 “You were just in my room last night,” huffed y/n lightly. He snaked his arms underneath his boyfriend’s, hugging him close. “Yeah but Warren was there too, I had to pretend like I was just there for the ice cream. Why couldn't​ they have made us roommates? Imagine all the things we could do?” He laughed softly, making his chest rise and fall, resting his chin in y/n’s soft hair. Y/n kissed him once again, and was met by willing lips. “Yes, that would be quite fun,” he mumbled when the speedster started moving down to his jawline and neck, leaving small wet marks that made his skin tingle. He was right: it had been too long. But not like Peter thought. He pushed aside the thought that had been haunting his mind for a few weeks now, becoming harder and harder to bear. 

After a half hour of more kissing and soft, reassuring words he left, dragging his feet reluctantly back to his dorm. But his conscience wasn’t settled. He had tried talking to Peter before leaving, in vain. His boyfriend had clearly noticed he wasn’t doing to well. 

 “Tonight, after the party, we’ll go out, okay? On a date somewhere, I promise.” Peter had said. Y/n had just stared at his laces, not saying anything.

 “Why not at the party, Peter?”  he finally asked. Peter’s eyes took on a pained expression. 

 “You know why…” he looked down. 

Y/n sighed. “It’s been months, don’t you think it’s about time they knew? How much longer are we going on like this? Months? Years?” Now it was Peter’s turn not to answer, and he l simply looked away. 

 “I’m getting tired, Peter. Tired of being your secret.” he had said, then left without even a kiss. The though still bothered him greatly. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. 


The lights flashed in tune with the boom of the bass, the rythm pounding with the beats of his heart. “Come on, y/n, you’re going to loose! Get out of the booth!” A sweaty Warren called while flashing a smile to the brunette pulling his hand. He had to admit, he had a deviously bad boy look that seemed to attract girls from mile radius, with a giant leather jacket (to hide his wings) and golden locks. “Even Kurt got the little redhead in the corner!”

 “I’m good man, just taking some beer, i’ll be right out there.” Handsome, but not as much as my boyfriend, he thought smugly. They hadn’t talked since that afternoon though, and he was starting to feel uneasy. 

 He searched the crowd for him, not finding that familiar silver jacket. Furrowing his brows, he got up, leaving his drink and dove into the crowd. He slid through the sea of bodies moving in sync, passing Kurt and a cute little redhead in a paint-stained sweater who looked too innocent to be here, but then again so did Kurt, and he went deeper into the club. Finally, he caught a glimpse of him. He prepared to go up and talk to him, hold him, anything to be with him, when he noticed the figure that had approached the silver-haired mutant. She was, to any straight man, the perfect woman, if you understand what i mean. She draped herself over him, taking all his attention. Y/n boiled in rage, then saw Scott give Peter a hearty thumbs-up and he thought he would explode. Peter responded with a wiggle of his eyebrows y/n knew was fake, then proceeded to grab the girls ass as she grinded into him. 

He felt his fingers curl into fists, his jaw clench. Y/n couldn’t take anymore. He pushed through the crowd, not caring about the drunken insults and protests thrown his way. He tried to look ahead through the tears blurring his vision, holding back the urge to punch the first person he saw until the floor was colored crimson. He passed booth, downing what was left of his drink and everyone else’s before running out the door. He passed Warren making out with the brunette, not even answering to his quizzical call, ran past the cars into the night. He didn’t know where he was heading, into the city, following the lights of racing cars, but he just kept on running. He was drunk off his ass, and he could feel the alcohol affect his poor judgement. But now a single thought ran through his mind, and he couldn’t get it out. 

 When Peter heard the surprised yelps his head whipped around and he felt his stomach drop. He saw that familiar head of hair he had spent so much time burying his nose in, and wanted so badly to call out to him and push the girl away. But Scott could see him, and Kurt was barely a few feet away. He wished so badly they would disappear,  wanted to kick himself for being such an idiot, regret making it hard for him to breathe. Why hadn’t he seen him earlier? He knew this would hurt him. Then the girl turned, looking up at him through mascara drenched eyelashes. She grabbed his chin, tilted his head, and for an instant her face was replaced by another, until he could feel her breath on his lip, could hear Scott cheering him on, she was so close, they were almost touching, her eyes closed and- this wasn’t the smell he loved. Those eyes weren’t the ones he had dreamed of waking up in front of every morning. He slid past her arms and raced through the crowd, barely a blur despite the throng of people slowing him down.


 Peter rushed out into the cool air, panic rising up his system. “Y/n!” He screamed.

 “What happened? I just saw him run out if here he didn’t even answer me,” Peter turned his head to look at Warren, a girl still under his arm, with a hopeless, lost expression.

 “I’m such a fucking idiot. I’m an absolute asshole.” He said, gaze still lost. A girl poked her head out of the bar. “Hey, come back! Why did you leave?” She pouted, yanking on Peter’s sleeve.

 He had snapped out of his initial shock, and he could feel the anger rising. He pulled back so hard she almost fell over in her ridiculously tall heels. “Get off!” He burst. “And go back inside and find some other fuckboy to screw tonight, I’m not coming home with you, alright?” He spat,”And you know why? Because I’m an absolutely fucking idiot, i’m a screwed up piece of shit who just let the love of his life run off crying and I won’t even be able to find him! He’s probably drunk on the streets being mugged or something and I’m here yelling at some girl with Daddy issues who probably doesn’t even know my name! I Don even like you! I don’t even like women! What the hell do all of you guys find in women? Just let me get my boyfriend!” He continued yelling when she had run back inside, terrified and claiming he was a phsycopath. He was left breathless, a deep pang fear taking over the blinding anger, losing his lucidity with the thought of what could happen to a drunk y/n alone on the streets. 

 “Oh my God, you’re in love with him!” Warren said, surprise in his eyes. A gasp could be heard behind him: he whipped his head to Scott who had come outside, seeing him run off, and Kurt peeked behind him. Peter huffed,  shoving Warren off, tears welling up in his eyes. Without a word he took off, not so much as a glance back.


Y/n finally stopped running, his chest aching and legs screaming in pain. The bile in his throat rose and he belched right there on the road. Where even was he? He looked around, hugging himself. The alcohol was wearing off quick, as always with him, and his lucidity was returning. It was completely dark, he couldn’t tell if he was in an alleyway or in a parc, all he knew was that there was hard concrete at his feet and something that could be a wall, cool and rugged, against his hand. 

 Suddenly light invaded the area from behind him. He realized with a sickened thought that he was on a street, the wall beside him was the side of the tunnel. His shadow shortened, and as he turned around the bright white blinded him, and as he heard the honk he braced himself for impact. He closed his eyes, and once again the same thought kept running through his mind, and at that moment be accepted he would never have an answer. 

 Is he embarrassed of loving me?

  • Daryl, after a scary run: There was a backdoor, Rick. I tried to tell you before you went and smashed the window.
  • Rick: Well, I wasn't the one who was blowing our cover by having a tiff with my boyfriend.
  • Daryl: He's not my boyfriend!
  • Jesus, back with beers and handing one to Daryl: Might be a bit warm, the cooler's off.
  • Daryl: Thanks, babe. *winks*
11 of 99 ways to say I love you

Gray has known it a long time, somewhere far in the back of his mind. It happened before the Grand Magic Games, before their first S Class trial, before Galuna Island.

It budded while they were young. Too young to understand why they need to be around each other all the time, or why they only knew how to express that need through thrown fists and snarled insults.

It’s been rooted deeply in his chest for years, the affection he feels for Natsu. It’s flared and grown, made a comfy home within him until it became second nature to hold him, to touch and caress, bask in his presence, revel in their memories.

He has listened to Natsu gripe, laugh, cry. He’s competed against him, challenged him to better himself, held him while he cried, continues to do all that and more to this day.

Some days he looks at him and wonders how he got so lucky. He doesn’t voice this often. Natsu would brag entirely too much. Other days Natsu does something like smack his drink out of his own hand when he’s talking with his hands and too excited about whatever it is he’s going off on and shatters yet another glass. Those are the times Gray asks if this is really his mate, if this is who he’s fucking stuck with. That, he doesn’t hesitate to say, and he laughs when Natsu tosses the wet, alcohol soiled towel at him.

Some days Natsu looks at him the same way, whether it’s in awe or endearment when Gray makes an ass of himself.

He’s looking at him like that now, eyes puffy and red rimmed. Gray has tripped over the blanket, the one he just pulled out of the dryer to wrap Natsu in because he knows that never fails to make him feel better. Natsu can’t stop laughing and Gray’s grumbling for him to shut up.

Natsu slides off the couch, sits next to Gray, and wipes tears from his eyes. Gray’s struck with heat in his chest, familiar and welcome. They’re tears of mirth. He’s finally managed to cheer Natsu up after such a shitty day.

Natsu runs his fingers through Gray’s hair, grazes his nails against his scalp. “You’re–” he wheezes. He takes a moment to compose himself while Gray pretends he’s still offended. “You’re–” Natsu blinks those beautiful, bright eyes at Gray, and his expression shifts, from that endearment to awe. “You’re my best friend.”

Gray has known it a long time, somewhere far in the back of his mind. It happened before the Grand Magic Games, before their first S Class trial, before Galuna Island. But hearing Natsu say it out loud is like discovering it for the first time.

So he smiles, grabs one of Natsu’s hands, and presses a kiss to his knuckles. The same knuckles that have smashed into his teeth, the same knuckles that have devastated enemies that dare threaten him. “Yeah, Flamebrain, you too.” Natsu squeezes his hand around Gray’s. “You’re mine, too.”