Anonymous asked: You should write slow, lazy, making-up-for-lost-time making out and frottage after Klaine gets back together. Cause you know after the sex-haze clears they’re gonna be like “MAN I’ve missed making out with you just for the sake of making out!”
“C’mere,” Kurt says, sprawling out on his bed and holding his hand out for Blaine, and Blaine steps forward slowly, a smile tugging at his lips.
“I thought we were going out tonight?”
“Maybe I just want one kiss first.” Kurt pouts, leaning back on his elbows and tilting his chin up, and Blaine gives in with a groan, crawling into bed on top of Kurt. The kiss is slow, a gentle press of lips that makes a pleasant warmth spread through Kurt’s stomach, and he can’t resist pulling Blaine on top of him, legs hitching up around Blaine’s waist.
“Just one kiss, huh?” Blaine asks, mouth stretched in a smile against Kurt’s.
“I did say maybe,” Kurt whispers back. Blaine’s heavy on top of him, warm and sweet-smelling from the shower he just took, and Kurt sighs happily, lips parting when Blaine starts to kiss him again. “Besides, we have all of next year to go out in the city together. I just want to spend tonight with you. Alone. Preferably in this bed.”
this is bottom!kurt smut (inspired by these pants) for julia because she’s so lovely ♥
rated NC-17 for rimming, spanking, barebacking, and mild comeplay.“So now that we’re alone…” Blaine says, crawling forward on the bed, and Kurt raises an eyebrow at him, feigning an innocent look as Blaine all but faceplants into Kurt’s lap, nuzzling shamelessly against the bulge at the front of Kurt’s mint-colored pants.
“Hmm?”
“Please let me peel these pants off you, Kurt, god,” Blaine groans, using his thumb to trace the shape of Kurt’s hard-on through his jeans, where it’s straining obscenely under the stiff material. “It’s been hell, staring at you all night.”
I decided to actually write out this, aka a ficlet starring Kurt comforting his Nightburrito ♥
Kurt knows something is off when he gets back from class and Blaine isn’t making lunch in the kitchen like he usually does, since his class lets out half an hour earlier than Kurt’s.
Instead, Blaine’s curled up on the couch in his Nightbird costume (Kurt’s still not entirely sure why Blaine brought it to New York with him, but given the one or two times they’ve experimented with superhero roleplay in the bedroom, Kurt’s also not complaining), the cape wrapped around his shoulders while he watches Dance Moms.
“Blaine?” Kurt asks softly, dropping his bag next to the couch and sitting down next to Blaine. “Or… Nightbird?”
Blaine huffs, sinking lower on the couch and mumbling, “‘m not playing, I just— I’m doing laundry and I didn’t have anything else to wear.”
this is just a slightly porny drabble about Kurt’s love for Blaine’s belly, set a little bit after TFT ♥
NC-17 for blowjobs and mild comeplay“Do you ever get self-conscious about your belly?” Kurt asks, and Blaine glances down to where Kurt’s cheek is pillowed on the soft part of his stomach, the slight bump that surrounds his navel and stubbornly persists no matter how many crunches he does. Kurt looks peaceful and unfairly gorgeous like this, shoulders bare and eyelashes brushing his cheeks when he blinks, and it takes Blaine a second to answer.
“Are- are you— I mean, should I be?”
“Oh, no!” Kurt says immediately, sitting up. “I probably didn’t phrase that right, did I? Sorry, my mind is still…” Kurt trails off, but his eyes are bright, mischievous. “It takes a while for my brain to start working again, you know. After.”
“I know that feeling well,” Blaine says hoarsely.
(If I)
(if I) fall for you, I’ll never recover
(if I) fall for you, I’ll never be the same— Kurt and Blaine have known each other since childhood, but they’re far from friends. High school enemies turned college roommates in New York, they’re forced to spend extra time together thanks to mutual friends. What happens when “never” turns into “what if?”
(also: dirty dancing)
(lyrics - Maroon 5’s Love Somebody)“Where are you running off to?” Kurt mutters, eyes trained on his roommate’s back in the doorway.
“I’m going out,” is Blaine’s terse response. He doesn’t move from the doorframe though; instead he turns to look at Kurt, who refuses to make eye contact as he pretends to look over his textbook review pages. Blaine grins. “Just how smart are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I consider myself pretty intelligent, but I’d never succeed at studying an upside-down textbook.”
fantasyforone mini prompted: blaine goes to scandals for the first time with a fake ID and kurt’s the bartender
“Can I get – um. A beer?”
Kurt looks at the guy in front of him, hands placed nervously on the bar while he looks over his shoulder before turning back to Kurt.
“Or two beers. Maybe.”
“Two beers or one, what’s it gonna be, sweetheart?” Kurt says and smiles at him, because with the way this guy is fidgeting on the spot he would be endearing even without the adorable bowtie around his neck.
Kurt lets his eyes rake down his body before up again, admiring his outfit – fashionable men, not something Kurt sees often in boring Ohio; not even here where he’s working extra at the local gay bar.
The guy looks over his shoulder again, frowning a little, and Kurt sees whoever he must have been checking out grinding closely to another man.
“One beer, then,” Kurt says and grabs one, easily flicking it open with the bottle opener, the pssh’ drowned out by the music before he slides it over to him. “And it’s on me.”
I mean, I know who I am. I’m this goofball. I look at myself in the mirror, and the person that I know doesn’t match up to what I think people love to perceive me as. I’ve never sought this life that I’ve been given. It could be overwhelming if I didn’t think I could handle it. I’m just some random dude, you know. I’m just some guy.
(via the-cimmerians)
(x)
holy pillowy glutes of wonder, Nightbird
“Yes, sometimes all the flawless just overflows and collects at the tips of my hair and I have to just, you know, gently mop it off.”
so filthy, dialed desire—bp!Blaine works at a phone sex hotline and one night Kurt, a recent college graduate who focuses maybe too much on work, makes a desperate, last-ditch-effort call to quell his unsatisfying sex life.There’s a phone in one hand and a card in the other; there’s a twisting, sinking feeling that tastes like disgust in his gut, and not for the first time does Kurt ask himself, staring at the tiny black print, what the hell am I doing?
He doesn’t call sex hotlines. He’s a strong, independent, recent college graduate who works at Vogue. He has great hair, a great wardrobe, and a winning personality that isn’t bossy (because since when has Rachel ever been right, anyway?). Kurt Hummel does not need to pay someone for sex.
As he flips the card in his fingers, though, his eyes, drawn like moths to a light, keep landing on the number and then the words let our boys make your fantasies come true!
