a/n: unbeta’d. s3 e1 ~`~speculation~`~ but not really because this is fox and this is primetime and this is glee but let’s pretend this is on like HBO or something or like… porn idk. Blaine/Tina friendship. Subtle teacher play Klaine. Top Kurt. Aggressive Kurt. Public sex. Loud. A bit rough…well not even but some slamming and gagging with a cravat (can’t get any gayer than that…) Language. Protected, which is a first for my writing because I don’t normally like to stop the action but you know what it seemed to flow with this one and then there’s the whole I don’t want to have to justify cum on the piano bench to Brad. Although that might not be such a bad thing. Also, sorry if this got a bit… clumsy toward the end. I have the scene in my head but it would not leave and show up on the computer.8 months ago) 2 notes
This is pretty much just another way for me to promote my fics and distribute them.
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I pretty much only write Glee, but I do occasionally try my hand at Potter, I'm just no Rowling.
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Current Wolfstar 'Verse Fics
Harry Potter Fics.
Daltonverse (CP Coulter's Dalton)
Catch A Falling Star.
Are you all emotionally stable enough for a fic in which I kill Blaine… sort of? I finished it the other night, switched back to tumblr and then all hell started breaking loose because… well… Don’t Speak.
So, I come to you now, wondering if you’re all alright enough for it.
It’s also a specific type of Klaine as it is DoctorWho!Klaine.
Also, Ash gets a tag because it’s her fault I decided to let the boys out of my head to play. I thought I’d given up on them.
(Source: fromcarouseltohair)(9 months ago) 2 notes
Blaine was sprawled across his bed, in the same position he’d been for the better part of a half hour. It had been almost a month since his boyfriend had left to take in New York, Rachel Berry, Carmen Thibideaux, and NYADA be damned. Although he was ecstatic that Kurt had decided to pursue his dreams, he couldn’t help but acknowledge the pang in his chest when the love of hits life told him that he was going.
The last well had been particularly difficult. He’d been agonizing over going back to McKinley and, despite his newfound bond with Tina and Burt’s request that he continue coming for Friday dinners, the thought if a Kurt-less McKinley didn’t suit well with him. Apparently, hits boyfriend had been having a mildly similar week, in that at the end of the day, all he really just wanted to be snuggled up next to Blaine watching shitty TV, not half a continent away drinking their coffees in separate shops and having their conversation over Skype.
He was lonely, there was no denying it. So, his mind blinked back to a conversation he’d had with Kurt nearly a year prior. His own voice echoed in his head. “That’s why they invented masturbation.”
By now, Blaine was so close, his practiced hand having worked itself in the same way he’d always done. Still, he couldn’t quite get there. He pumped his hand feverishly over his length, pleasure coursing through him, precome leaking from the tip and pooling in the dark hair that trailed down his stomach. His mind flashed through moments from the past; moments which would have to carry him through to November when Kurt came home for Thanksgiving break and then they could finally have each other again.
That first kiss. Breathless in the Warbler’s lounge. His hands traveling and learning where they felt right with Kurt, something that now came second nature and if he tried hard enough, he could almost conjure the same familiar sensations from time and time again feeling Kurt there.
Their first time. Curled together on Blaine’s bed. Trembling and nervous but still so sure. A new kind of intimacy embellishing itself into their relationship.
After the slushie incident. How gentle Kurt had been, taking care of him. Making him soup. Bringing him flowers. Being there for him. How patient he’d been and, on Valentine’s day, how forcefully he’d taken him by the tie, dragging him into the bathroom and ravishing him against the counter, to hungry and desperate for him to even bother to wait until they got to the car.
After the whole Chandler ordeal. The spontaneous rendezvous in a deserted classroom. Moist skin sticking to the tabletop. Knowing that anyone could walk in at any time. Their first makeup sex. Add hit add everyone says.
In those final days before Kurt left for New York, how they’d needed each other anywhere and everywhere. Not always the sex, but just to be together. Closer.
His hand riding down the defined valleys of Kurt’s chest. Sweating. Shaking. Wanting. Needing. Riding. Thrusting. Crying. Smiling. Together. That’s all.
Kurt. Beautiful, tall, talented amazing Kurt. The way his clear blue eyes have him away before he even opened his mouth to speak. The way he subconsciously pushed his hair off of his face in the same elegant manor. The way his soft hands felt teaching their way down his hips and joining his own to aid him over and through his orgasm. The way he traced his name along Blaine’s cock with his tongue, both enticing and claiming him. Blaine was his. And he was Blaine’s.
It’d been days. Kurt had sobbed endlessly, refusing to talk to anyone that wasn’t Blaine or Burt. Not even Carole. Not Finn or Rachel. No one but the two most important men in his life. He’d sobbed alone, but mostly to Blaine. After a moment, he’d pushed himself away from Finn, allowing him a moment to be with Rachel and running off in search of Blaine. He tried to hold it together. He couldn’t even manage the words. He just cried. Blaine hadn’t known what to do or what to say. He didn’t know what happened. He just held Kurt as he cried. He was there for him.
Finally, later on that night, after an afternoon of nodding responses and the occasional one or two word answer to Blaine, who refrained from asking the tough questions, knowing that Kurt would come around in his own good time, Kurt pulled the mangled letter from his pocket, slid it across the bed to where Blaine had set up all of Kurt’s moisturizers and was getting ready to start applying them for him. His chest tightened. He had expected that this was what it was about. He looked up at Kurt, not even bothering to open the envelope, moving back onto the bed and pulling him close, pressing his lips to the side of Kurt’s head, sitting in silence for a moment.
It was the end of the year and, because he’d already passed all of his classes with flying colors and just had to pass his finals, he told his parents a small lie that night. He said that Kurt was going to help him study all weekend, and would it be too inconvenient if he stayed at the Hummels’ until Monday? Of course it hadn’t been a problem. His father being his father always relished the idea of Blaine being out of the house, no matter where he wound up.
He stayed with Kurt, laying with him, watching shitty Lifetime t.v. shows, bringing him food and taking care of him. All weekend. Kurt lay in bed and Blaine was there. Even though it was something that Blaine hadn’t even thought would be a big deal, Kurt would never be able to express his gratitude. Not to his normal, loquacious extent.
Finally, Sunday night, it happened. The floodgates broke open and Kurt started talking. They were laying in bed watching the bootleg of bare that they’d found online and had Artie string together into a neat DVD. He took a deep breath, reached for the remote and paused the video, “It’s not fair.” Blaine stopped chewing on the chocolate chip cookie he’d taken from the plate and looked over at Kurt, curious as to what he meant. He looked at the screen, Nadia sitting on her bed, lamenting over her friends leaving and then back to Kurt. The countertenor pursed his lips and shook his head a little. ”It’s supposed to be me. I’m supposed to be the one making my way to New York, proving that you can get the hell out of this town.” He stood up and crossed to his window, sitting down on the sill and gesturing his hands wildly. I mean, you saw that audition. Madame Tibideaux loved my audition. I nailed it.” He balled his fist, pounding it onto his thigh. Blaine instinctively stood up, crossing to him and knelt at his feet, taking his hands so he couldn’t go back to the punching. Still, he treated him gingerly, afraid that if he moved too fast, the conversation would end. ”Rachel choked. She choked on fucking Don’t Rain On My Parade. She. Choked.” He punctuated his words harshly, coming off a bit more angry than he’d intended. But he had every right to be angry. He fucking deserved to get in more than anyone else. ”And that’s all there is to it. But no. She’s Rachel Berry and she has to get her god damned way.” He closed his eyes, lowering his voice, afraid that Finn might hear. He leaned back hard against the window and looked away. ”And I love her and I’m happy for her, I guess. But when is it my turn?” His crystalline blue eyes, somehow darker than normal, tinged with pink from days of crying darted back to Blaine. His Blaine. The one constant in his life. The perfect, beautiful man he intended to share his life with. The man who hadn’t left his side since he ran to him sobbing 4 afternoons prior. “I mean. This was my senior year. It was supposed to be magical.” He looked off wistfully, pausing, but seeing the look of disappointment in Blaine’s eyes, as though once again he didn’t matter. ”And, yes. I have you. The one stable, real thing in my life, but I mean I almost lost you because I got so wrapped up in my own selfish shit, but this… I need to be selfish about this.” Blaine nodded, understanding. Kurt moved their hands together to Blaine’s jawline and pulled him close, “And I love you and I’m so sorry because I know that some of this is going to sting and I’m so so so sorry,” he kissed him lightly, repeatedly and then sighed, “but it’s my senior year and it’s over. And for what? I was beat out for class president for someone who isn’t even graduating and only got the position because she went under the heading of sex sells and proved it to be true.” He shook his head, still confused about why people voted for Brittany, even still, “I got a bullshit tiny part in the musical,” he stood up, pacing around his room, picking up trinkets from his shelf and putting them back, needing something to do with his hands, but unable to look at Blaine while he said this, “some meerkat ass hat came in and tried to take you away, landing you in the hospital and scaring the life out of me because all I saw was the red from the slushie and you screaming in agony and all I could think of was what you told me about your Sadie Hawkins dance and I was so scared for you.” His breath quivered and he felt himself tearing up again. He sat down on the bed, cross legged and folded his arms, hanging his head. ”And while you were away, I had to deal with a secret admirer who I thought was you but actually ended up being someone who threatened to kill me. And then he says that he’s in love with me and I wouldn’t answer his calls and he tried to kill himself. He got outed and tried to kill himself.” The tears began to fall again and Blaine rushed to his side, taking him in his arms tightly and not letting go. A muffled sob escaped Kurt before he continued. ”And it was partially my fault. I should have answered the phone.” He balled up a fistful of Blaine’s shirt in his hand, twisting it between his fingers. ”I don’t know what I would have done, but I could have done something. I could have been there.” He ground his face into Blaine’s shoulder before jerking it back, eyes wide staring at Blaine, his words beginning to run together as he worked himself into a frantic tizzy. ”And I almost lost you because I’m an idiot.” He began gasping for air, his sobs coming harder and his tears flowing faster. ”And I knew what I was doing was wrong. I knew and I did it anyway and I’m so sorry and I love you so much,” his hands traveled up to Blaine’s face, scared and worried, “and I’m so scared to lose you even though I know that we both say that that won’t happen but it could and now this.” He shook his head, as though he were trying to mix everything that had happened into one thought; one thought that made sense. ”I kicked that audition’s ass. There was absolutely no reason for me not to get in. None. And I didn’t.” He rubbed his eyes, trying desperately to make himself stop. ”But Rachel fucking…” he took a steadying breath and noted Blaine’s wary look to the door, taking into account that Finn could very well have been home to hear all of this, but continuing on in abbreviated form, “because she’s the star. She’s the ingenue. And all I can fucking play is a little boy,” he laughed darkly, “and those parts go to ACTUAL little boys.” His frustration was growing from himself and his own perceived notions of incompetence and blossoming into hate for everything in the business and how society set standards that left out the people who want and need it most. ”And it’s not fair,” he pounded his fist into Blaine’s shoulder, still clinging to him and relishing the fact that his boyfriend would hold him this tightly even with him sobbing uncontrollably. ”I’m going to be too old by the time I get there and there’s going to be nothing for me. I’m going to end up in a dead end job doing something I hate and it’s not fair… I don’t even know anymore.” He looked up at Blaine, his eyes suddenly devoid of emotion. Tired and broken. ”Was any of this fighting worth it?” He pursed his lips, closing his eyes for a moment, willing himself to wake up from his own, personal nightmare.
Blaine was taken aback. How could he even say that? This man was the most brilliant, beautiful, talented, strong man that he’d ever met. ”Of course it was worth it, Kurt. Of course it was.” He wiped a tear away from Kurt’s eye and smiled. ”Look at how strong you are. You just listed off a dozen things that would have made anyone else crumble.” Kurt stared at him, dumbfounded. If this wasn’t broken, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know Blaine’s real definition of the word. ”Life isn’t fair as it is, but life has been cruel to you. Not just this year, but all total.” Kurt nodded in agreement. He had a point; he definitely had a point. ”And look how strong it’s made you.” Blaine’s hazel eyes grew watery. Kurt had grown so much from the scared little boy he met a year prior. He stood up for himself and for what he believed in, he wasn’t afraid to walk hand in hand with his boyfriend down the hallway of a school that had once berated him for who he was, he was a member of a national championship group and he was Kurt Elizabeth Hummel. He couldn’t be stopped by something so small as a puny rejection letter.
Still, Kurt scoffed, “Strong.”
Ever persistent, Blaine repeated, “Yes, strong. You admit that you’ve had shit happen to you. But you’re going to get past this.” He took his boyfriend by the hand and smiled, running his thumbs over the other boy’s and seeing his reluctance. ”You will. You’re going to get out of this bed tomorrow morning and slap on a smile, no matter how much it hurts. Because you’re you.” His hands moved from Kurt’s to Kurt’s legs, reinforcing his thoughts. Still, he didn’t break eye contact. ”You don’t let people see how much it kills you. You find your next door. Maybe you go to New York on your own in the fall. Maybe you wait until Spring.” He took a deep breath and suggested, against his better judgement, “Maybe you wait until next summer and maybe then we go together. Maybe you go to L.A. Maybe not.” He nodded, brushing a stray hair from over Kurt’s eyes. ”But you will survive, Kurt. You will fight. You’re stronger than this.”
Kurt closed his eyes, slumping over onto Blaine. ”I haven’t been able to move in days. And you call that strong.” He closed his eyes again, fighting off the near-blinding headache that had been throbbing lightly for days that decided now was the perfect moment to make itself known in it’s fullest force.
Smoothing down Kurt’s hair and rubbing his neck, Blaine let a single tear fall. A single tear. He was so afraid of what sort of self destruction would have happened if Kurt hadn’t spoken. But he did. He opened up and as long as the line of communication was there, he knew he could get through to him. He knew that Kurt could get through to himself. As much as it pained him to see, he knew that this whole night would be cathartic. He sighed, and his mind flashed back for some strange reason to their first kiss. The first of hundreds in the past year, but more to something that he confessed. ”But you moved tonight. And you moved me, Kurt.” Instantly, the older boy’s head snapped back up, eyes blinking, remembering the admission vividly, resting his forehead against Blaine’s as he continued. ”And, yes. Yes, I do.” He scooted closer to Kurt, draping his legs over the other boy’s knees. ”Do you know why?” Kurt shook his head slowly, knowing that his answer was really irrelevant because Blaine would have told him anyway. ”Because most people, myself included, would never have said any of that. Any of it.” He wrapped Kurt in his arms and rocked the pair of them back and forth. ”I would have held it in, swallowed that bitter pill, listened to some Alanis Morisette or some Pink and been done with it, having given up. But you,” he smiled, leaning back and running his hand down his boyfriend’s chest, his hand lingering over his heart, “you’re coping. You’re not giving up.” They grew silent for a few minutes, enjoying the temporary calm. Finally, Blaine spoke again, “You know when you hit a dead end and have to turn around and the GPS yells at you about rerouting.” Kurt scrunched his face up a bit, nodding, unsure of where exactly this was going. ”Your life is rerouting. You’re still going to get every dream you’ve ever had, we just need to update the software and figure out where the next turn is that leads to a parallel highway.” Kurt let out a stifled laugh. Where did he even come up with these bizarre metaphors? Blaine, however, wasn’t done. He tapped his finger to the tip of Kurt’s nose, earning him a definite, signature “I’m-so-judging-you-Blaine-Everitt” look, but continued on. ”And I just clicked the button for no tolls. No more dues need to be paid by you. Ever. You’ve paid more than enough.” He smiled, proud of himself for making sense and kissed his boyfriend lightly, but warmly. Enough to know that he was still there.
Kurt let out a light laugh. ”You’re such a dork,” he said, shaking his head and moving his face a bit closer, leaning in for a second kiss, “and I love you.”
“I love you, too.”(1 year ago) 8 notes
Panicking, Blaine said the only thing he thought would get himself left alone.1 year ago) 2 notes
Brittany Pierce | 18 | Endgame: Charlie/Brittany
This is a glee 2x2 senior year roleplay. Charlie and Quinn Fabray are twins both in love with Rachel Berry. But Quinn has had feelings for Brittany that no one knows about. Rachel can’t choose between the Fabray twins and Brittany just wants to be loved. End games are Rachel/Quinn and Brittany/Charlie. Any other storylines are up to the players.
There we go, guys. That’s the RP that was just in my ask. Sounds intriguing. Go to it. Get them a good Brit. :)1 year ago) 1 note