Mindless Ephemera

endofadream:

unshurtugal:

I want a fic where Kurt and Blaine are in a daze the day after they have sex for the first time, trying to concentrate in school and blushing whenever they make eye-contact

“Hi,” Kurt says shyly on Monday morning as he walks over to Blaine’s locker. He hugs his books close to his chest and feels the frenzied pounding of his heart thumping against the hard covers. He feels like he did when he first met Blaine and they started talking: shy and hopelessly awkward and bare, vulnerable and out there, spilling everything for someone who seems so confident and breathtakingly perfect.

Blaine looks up from pulling his American History book out from the bottom of his locker. When he meets Kurt’s eyes they both blush, Blaine ducking his head and fiddling with a few of the magnets on his door. Kurt sees the small smile tug at his lips as Blaine pulls out the last book and shuts his locker door. “Hi,” he says back, voice trembling slightly as he raises his head again. His eyes are bright, his smile is wide and sincere. He runs his free hand down the length of Kurt’s arm, tangling their fingers together briefly. “You look gorgeous this morning.”

Kurt’s whole body thrums at the seemingly-innocent praise, a near-Pavlovian response to the very thing he’s so dazed about.

“You look gorgeous,” Blaine gasps, sliding in until his hips are flush against Kurt’s ass. Their bodies tremble where they touch, Blane’s arms quivering where they bracket Kurt’s head. “God, Kurt, so fucking gorgeous and hot for me.”

He flushes red, letting out a nervous giggle. Blaine raises an eyebrow and Kurt thins his lips, trying to keep the high-pitched noises in. He’s nervous, flustered, and he knows he really shouldn’t be; this is his boyfriend, after all, and so what if they had finally seen each other naked? He knows the time had been right and nothing has ever made him feel so alive before.

And that’s just it, the clincher that lets him know he’s not dreaming, that everything did happen: he, Kurt Hummel, is no longer a virgin.

It’s amazing. It’s surreal.

“It’s just…that’s what you told me. You know. Last night.” He whispers the last part, though he doesn’t quite know why. Any passing students aren’t likely to stop and eavesdrop in on their conversation.

Now it’s Blaine’s turn to flush, his eyebrows knitting together as he draws his lower lip between his teeth. “Oh,” he breathes out, looking down, then up, lashes fluttering in a way that must be completely unintentional. “Well, you do,” he presses earnestly. “And last night was…wow.”

The warning bell rings and they take off for their first period class, which is one of the few that they have together. “Last night was perfect,” Kurt agrees, turning and smiling at Blaine as they round the corner behind the last few straggling students. “You’re perfect.”

Concentrating in class turns out to be difficult—way more difficult than Kurt had imagined. He’s never been too prone at daydreaming or drifting off but today seems to be the exception. Every time his teacher opens her mouth Kurt tunes her out, doodling idly in his notebook with his chin propped up on his hand as he tries to recall every single detail of last night.

Instead of statistics about Reconstruction and the change in the country after the Civil War Kurt only sees Blaine: his hands, his mouth, his body stretched out over him, under him, the way his muscles hiding under those smart sweaters and bowties had flexed and shifted under smooth, tanned skin. Instead of the usual classroom sounds of yawning and shuffling papers Kurt hears Blaine’s moans, his quiet grunts and tight gasps, his encouraging, love-saturated words whispered into Kurt’s ear with hot breath.

He looks up, glances around the room idly and makes eye contact with Blaine, who’s turned sideways in his own chair, book open but forgotten, pencil dangling loosely from his fingers as he stares adoringly in Kurt’s direction. When their eyes meet they both immediately flush and turn away, smiling to themselves with their hearts pounding the same staccato, palpitating rhythm in their chests that are already tight with love and nerves and wow, that really happened, we really did it.

This is gonna be a long day.

(via kurtblaine)

tasteslikecoconutandmetal:

robots-please:

jordanjordanjordanjordan:

01012012:

theneverendingdrums:

stravaganza:

the-ss-destiel:

BECAUSE IT WAS MADE OUT OF FREEDOM AND THE DREAMS OF THE AMERICAN PEOPLE

uh excuse me wasn’t it adamantium

no it’s vibranium

you mean FREEDOMIUM

Aren’t wolverine’s bones made of adamantium?

No, Wolverine’s bones are made of crystalized maple syrup and universal health care.

(via selfmadesuperhero)

lovelyseraph:

liamsafraidofspoonsnotcock:

queentommo:

scarletqueen:

beczor:

fille-lioncelle:

sevenpoints:

#taking pride in my mustache

#seven shut up please

#forever regretting this ship never happened

#BUT WITH MORE ONE DIRECTION 

#SAVE ME FROM THIS DEMON

#Queen

#Louis Tomlinson is so sassy he can turn millions of fangirls into Niall Horan

#look at your life katie look at your choices

#Every damn last one of you

the-lunar-alchemist:

-purplenurples:

I love it when Tumblr folk find new ways to explore this wonderful site lol.

(via crystalchances)

the-lunar-alchemist:

-purplenurples:

I love it when Tumblr folk find new ways to explore this wonderful site lol.

(via crystalchances)