The problem is, Kurt thinks as Blaine kisses his way along Kurt’s jaw and to his right ear, he gets turned on way too easily. Whenever Blaine so much as touches his hand,Kurt wants to press himself against his boyfriend and- rub himself on Blaine or
something. Kurt’s not sure, because even though he has read the pamphlets his
dad has given him, the whole context of going further than kissing still
boggles his mind.
distracted.” Blaine’s pout comes into his field of vision and Kurt wants to
whimper at the loss of contact. Blaine’s lips shouldn’t be pouting, they should
continue sucking little kisses to the skin below his ear.
sorry,” and his voice comes out breathier than he wants, so he frowns but
Blaine only stares at his lips and doesn’t seem to notice. A second later
Blaine dives back in, kissing him, on the lips this time. This is what they
should always be doing. Blaine’s lips are soft and a little wet since they’ve
been at it for a while. In Kurt’s humble opinion, Blaine is the best kisser in
the world. He gives and takes and presses in and sucks and Kurt wants to forget
about school and Glee and breathing and do this forever.
Klaine one-shot - “The Crypt Keeper’s Boy” (Rated PG13)
Blaine Anderson (not his real name) wandered into Gethsemani Cemetery as a child, escaping the man who slaughtered his entire family in their sleep. Blaine was taken in by the residents of the cemetery, and raised by Kurt, the vampire Guardian of Gethsemani Cemetery. But Blaine is no longer a toddler. It is time for him to leave.
But can he leave the only home he’s ever known, along with the family who raised him?
Especially his caretaker, Kurt? (5776 words)
Written for @vampireisabitstrong@todaydreambelieversfic gift exchange prompt - A ‘Graveyard Book’ AU: Blaine wanders into the Graveyard as a toddler, and is met by Kurt, the graveyard’s protector and resident Vampire. The graveyard folk raise Blaine as their own, give him the freedom of the graveyard, and all the while he stays within the gates and grounds, he is safe and protected from whatever he was running from when he first passed through the gates as a child. In this version, though, Blaine grows closer to Kurt as he grows up, and it is Kurt that takes him outside of the gates in the end, back into the world. (Ideally, the graveyard folk would be made up of other Glee Club members. Up to you who the Big Bad is, and what they did that made Blaine leave his home as a child and toddle into the graveyard to begin with!)
I’ve been writing this forever. I had to read the book to write it. I’ve changed it a million times, and I still don’t think I’ve gotten it right, but there’s nothing more I can do to improve it. So, here it is … and I’m sorry. :/
Kurt watches Blaine shake the die in his cupped hands, taking
far too long on this one roll at this point in their game.
“Blaine,” he says with a slight clearing of his throat. “I
don’t want to throw you off your groove but could you be a gem and toss that die
already? We don’t have all night.”
“Why?” Blaine asks, stalling in order to shake the die a few
seconds longer. “Do you have somewhere else you need to be?”
Kurt glares at Blaine, silently scolding his young ward for
behaving like a common smart ass, but becomes bewitched by the mild note of
teasing in his eyes.
“Not tonight,” Kurt says dryly, the kind of dry that conceals,
like a blanket of dead leaves on the forest floor hiding scores of life
underneath. “But next week I do have an appointment, so I’d rather not be
“Excruciatingly painful? Honestly, has she never heard of lube? It’s never painful when you—”
“Blaine, really, you’re putting way too much stock in the words of April Rhodes. She’s drunk and half crazy. The first time I met her she gave me liquor and vintage muscle magazines. And I was only sixteen.” Kurt holds up his new flask, shaking it slightly so that whatever nastiness lurks inside sloshes around. “Some things never change at least.”
Blaine pauses where he’s going through the top drawer of his bureau and turns to Kurt with wide eyes. “She gave you vintage muscle magazines?”
“Yeah.” Kurt shrugs. “She was trying to make us all like her.”
“Do you still have them?”
“Of course I still have them, Blaine. They’re vintage muscle magazines.”
summary: The glee script from 5x01 has Kurt saying, “I thought we were swearing off labels.” Obviously, they were fucking in 4.21 and 4.22, so here’s when this apparent (short-lived) friends with benefits relationships starts.
TL;DR: Kurt fucks Blaine. As friends.
notes: I couldn’t help myself, honestly, after I saw the script. This was the first thing I thought of. Unbeta’d and written in under an hour, but I quite like it. Here’s the link to the script.
“I thought you said you didn’t want to hook up this time?” Blaine asks Kurt as he pulls Blaine’s bowtie out of his collar.
“That was before I saw you in those pants,” Kurt laughs as he leans down to kiss Blaine, hard, before pulling away and stripping his shirt off and gesturing for Blaine to do the same. “What’s wrong with a little fun, after all? We don’t need to put a label on it.”
Fic: All That Bird Talk: Five Times Blaine Anderson Talks About Sex
Summary: Blaine growing up in five conversations about sex. Canon compliant from early!klaine right through to our American Boys hanging out in their loft.
All That Bird Talk
Blaine is pretty sure he knows how to talk about sex. He just hasn’t really had the opportunity yet.
Despite wishing the world could just get the whole gay thing, and despite having a moment of drunken confusion, Blaine has always been proud. He likes boys and if his friends and his school and his health class weren’t going to talk to him about it, then he was going to educate himself. Yes, there were those websites. But there were also some websites that were factual, informative and all around great resources - Planned Parenthood had a teen sex info website, the lgbt youth line website had a myths and reality page all about sex. And Blaine had read them all. Twenty-three times.
Kurt opens the door with his shoulders bunched around his
collar, hands tucked into his pocket from the winter cold clinging to his
limbs, and he leans into the entryway for a moment before closing the door
slowly and muffling the click. The
house is quiet, the city murmuring through the walls, but Kurt can see the
lights glowing dimly in the living room around the corner.
Here we go, for the next five days we’ll be spotlighting the very very sweet @lilyvandersteen
DAY 1: Meet the
Well, it all started with Kurt, from the very first
episode of Glee. They were bullying Kurt, but instead of cowering and crying,
he’d keep his spine straight and his chin up and he’d rip his bullies apart
with a few well-chosen words. He had courage in spades long before he met
And then he sang, and my mouth fell open. And then
he snarked some more, and then he developed a crush on Finn and showed a more
vulnerable side, and that was it, he was my favourite. Just like that.
Fast forward now to Grilled Cheesus, and Kurt
singing I Wanna Hold Your Hand. That
was my Blackbird moment about Kurt. I liked him, before, but that song cemented
in my heart that Kurt was one of my favourite fictional characters EVER.
It broke my heart that Kurt was so lonely, so I was
overjoyed when the staircase scene happened. And then the Teenage Dream serenade. I saw Kurt’s eyes shine, and I saw him
smile more widely and genuinely than I’d ever seen him smile before, and that’s
it, Blaine had won me over too.
Blaine being so oblivious was frustrating, and
Blaine serenading Jeremiah made me eye-roll so hard, as did the whole Blainchel
affair. I hated that Kurt made such biphobic remarks, but I understood where it
came from. Rachel had a habit of taking everything Kurt cared about from him.
And then they finally got together, and I was
overjoyed. When Kurt was elected Prom Queen, and Blaine asked him to dance,
that was my Blackbird moment about Blaine. You could plainly see that Blaine
was terrified, having been beaten up before at a school dance. But he swallowed
and held out his hand and smiled, and asked Kurt ever so sweetly if he could
have this dance, and Kurt was so relieved. That was the moment I fell head over
heels for Blaine as well, and I shipped Klaine with all my heart. And I never
stopped shipping them. I knew they were the real deal.
Canon Glee proved frustrating, though, keeping them
apart, even after that huge over-the-top proposal. Even making Blaine date
Karofsky, ugh. And Kurt a senior citizen, what was THAT all about? Couldn’t
they at least have found Kurt a better midgame?
So naturally, I started making up my own version of
events. Still Kurt and Blaine. Still each other’s soulmates and happily ever
after in every lifetime and in every verse I wrote. But way more satisfying
than what happened on canon Glee.
What’s in a typical lilyvandersteen story?
I use way too many adjectives and adverbs. I try to
weed them out when I revise chapters, but there are still too many. And I have
never used “Oh my Gaga”, but to my shame, I have to admit I’ve made Kurt say
“Oh, for the love of Gaga” more than once. I’ll try not to do that anymore,
Another thing about my stories (well, the
multichapters, at any rate) is that I write from both points of view. One
chapter will be from Kurt’s point of view and then the next will be Blaine’s.
Also, I love to write fantasy stories, with fairy
tale elements and supernatural creatures and challenges to complete. Often, I
use stories within stories. And soulmate fics. I love writing soulmate fics. I
have a soft spot for Kiddie Klaine too. And I love including Anderbros
interaction. Cooper is such a delightful character to write.
I’m not much of a smut writer nor an angst writer,
but fluff is my domain. Meet-cutes and Eskimo kisses and cuddles and snuggles
aplenty. My mission in life is to make you coo and smile :)
What kind of stories do you write?
I write mostly fluff (see above). I’ve never yet written Klaine with
babies or pets of their own, but domestic bliss, check. Serenades, check. First
dates, check. Comfort fic, check. What’s too fluffy? Oh, I really couldn’t say.
Maybe ask my readers? I’m sure my cotton candy fluff gives them diabetes more
often than not…
And what makes me happy in fluff is seeing Klaine really connecting and
making each other happy and content.
I write angst occasionally, yes, to get the story going or to keep it
going. I don’t think I’ve ever written about break-ups or infidelity, that’s
not my thing. But I’ve written about canon character deaths and illnesses and
gay bashings. I’ve written about Klaine being kept apart by circumstances. I’ve
written about misunderstandings that break their hearts. I’ve even written
about suicide notes (not Klaine) and domestic violence (also not Klaine) and
depression (also not Klaine).
Too angsty to write? I’m not sure I could ever write about Klaine losing
(one of their) children. Or about one of them dying and the other being
I write smut occasionally if the story asks for it. Those passages are
never long and never detailed. I find writing smut terrifying. I love to read
it, though, and sexy aspects that never fail to excite me are neck kisses and
I don’t think I’ve ever written anything outside my usual wheelhouse – I
don’t often fill prompts. Whenever I try to write a story based on a prompt
that’s not really my thing, the words refuse to flow. I’m afraid I can only
write what I like to read myself.
All my stories are AU, though the Kiddie Klaine fics might be canon J
What do you like about your writing? Why would you read your fic? What
characters, strengths, fun, emotion would draw you to it?
Ha! I write what I want to read: meet-cutes, fluffy Klaine, soulmate
Klaine, fairytale/fantasy Klaine. I love including fun OCs, and I love making
Tina extra tenacious and fangirlish around Blaine, Rachel extra divaish and
blunt, Cooper extra self-centered and silly, and Santana extra snarky and
outrageous. And of course I always end fics with a satisfying happy ending.
That’s an absolute must for me :)
Name: Trooper Pairing: Blaine Gibson x Reader Summary: Fluffy cuddling and future talk. Rating: T Word Count: 1092
“Blaine Gibson, if you’re not in that bed by the time I get
there we are fighting!” You called as
you walked into the house. You turned and locked the door behind you, grabbing
the bottom of your shirt with one hand as you turned your key with the other. You
left your keys dangling in the door and pulled your shirt off, tossing it aside
without much thought. The bra came next, landing somewhere in the kitchen. You
would gather them up later if Blaine didn’t get to them first, like he usually
did. You kicked off your shoes in the hall and toed off your socks a few steps
away from those. You had to stop for a few seconds to wiggle out of your jeans,
but by the time you reached the bedroom door, you were wearing only panties.
Keeping them on meant that you only wanted to cuddle.
Kurt’s humming happily while making scrambled eggs when he hears a quiet ‘oh my God’. He turns to look at his husband, whose eyes are fixed on him, glass of orange juice hovering in front of his slightly open mouth.
Blaine’s voice is so full of amazement that for a second Kurt wonders if he forgot they were having a baby. "A little, yeah,” he says with a glance at his stomach. The bump is small but big enough to push back the fabric of his tank top a little bit.
The time that Blaine was banished to the kids’ table uwu
Kurt is leaning against the kitchen counter pinching a glass
of wine between his fingers, the back of his arms warm from the food unfurling
steam on the stovetop, when Sam bumps into the kitchen. Raising a brow, Kurt
turns away from the conversation he’s having and looks at Sam.
“Where’s Blaine?” Sam asks. The corner of Kurt’s mouth curls
into a smirk, and Sam points at him. “That’s
never been a good sign.”
“It can be,” Kurt says, and he sets his glass down on the
counter and guides Sam into the next room.
There’s something wrong with that morning’s delivery of roses. Kurt notices it almost immediately. Their scent is kind of wrong, and even though he hadn’t been working at Fantastique Florals for very long, he had become immediately familiar with the way each of the scents filled the small workspace. These roses don’t really smell at all. Scentless roses. They had provided them with scentless roses, when they should have been the most fragrant cuttings in the store.
“Hell,” he grumbles to himself as he makes his way to the back of the store, where they hold the receival records and where his boss is leaned over pages of accounts. “Marty, they delivered scentless roses.”