For the anon who requested “Kurt and Blaine living in the Bushwick apartment and desperately trying to have sex without getting interrupted? Then then loads of dirty talk when they finally get to be completely alone” as well as the anon who wanted “size!kink? the idea of the both of them getting like really turned on due to how tiny and compact blaine is”.
Blaine moving to New York after they get back together and he gets into NYU: best idea ever.
Blaine moving into the loft: not the best idea ever.
Kurt had had so many fantasies of the two of them living together. No matter how much or how little space they might end up with he’d imagined neat, shared spaces full of light, windows that would catch the morning sun, and tasteful decor in ever-changing seasonal colors and theme.
He’d put together no less than twelve swatch boards, three for each season, and had them ready for Blaine to choose between (they would have an engaging yet brief debate that would end with Blaine agreeing with him, naturally). He’d scoured flea markets and estate sales for personality-filled knick-knacks. He’d put his Summer wardrobe into storage just to make room for Blaine’s clothes, at the expense of maintaining access to his Vivienne Westwood accessories.
Where Kurt and Blaine discover a few things. Warnings for pregnancy kink and fluff. Klaine set before season four.
“Do you want kids?”
Kurt doesn’t answer and keeps pushing Blaine’s shirt up, peppering small kisses up his chest. Blaine gasps as Kurt licks leisurely at his nipple, sucking hard until Blaine’s hands fly into his hair, his body writhing beneath Kurt’s mouth.
“Kurt,” he pleads, a hitch in his breath. “Come on, I’m being serious.”
gigisplanet requested: “Kurt and Blaine having quiet sex in an unexpected location while Rachel is pottering around the apartment?”
Not sure about the “quiet” part, but…here you go. ;)
“Shh,” Kurt hisses, then giggles, burying his face against the crook of Blaine’s neck. They’ve been in the bathroom for a while now, brushing their teeth and washing their hands and trying desperately to shake off the buzz of the alcohol that’s been making them trip all over each other since they walked home from the bar.
Blaine is in New York and Blaine is living with them and Blaine sleeps in his bed at night and his life is the best life ever. Blaine still loves him, and he still loves Blaine, and that is all he needs, okay? All. Life is awesome, and can only get awesomer. Awesomest?
Blaine laughs into his shirt and he guesses he’s been saying all of this shit aloud because Blaine is really very amused, shaking with the effort of quieting down. As the drinks leave their system Kurt has gotten progressively more bendy and Blaine has gotten progressively more handsy.
For the anon who requested “sunburned!Kurt, sweetiepie!Blaine Klaine smut”. A little bit of grinding/handjobs on a sunny afternoon.
“It was such a lovely shade of pink twenty minutes ago,” Kurt sighs, wincing as he shifts on his stomach. “Now I just look like under-cooked chicken.”
Blaine pushes his sunglasses up his nose and changes the playlist on his iPod, trying to find something a little softer for Kurt to par-broil by. “Better under-cooked than overcooked?” he hazards, eyebrows up, a conciliatory smile on his lips.
Personally, he thinks that crispy sun-cooked Kurt is adorable, and the way that Kurt sprawls across his towel to be very fetching.
Anonymous asked: Prompt: First time Kurt and Blaine use a gag
They’ve been making out for half an hour now, trading kisses on Kurt’s bed until they’re both breathing hard, when Blaine finally groans and starts to tug impatiently at Kurt’s shirt.
“Off,” Blaine says, almost a whine, his fingers fisted in the back of Kurt’s pajama shirt. “Off, please, just—”
“Shhh,” Kurt hushes, rolling off of Blaine and staring, wide-eyed, when Blaine starts to undress, throwing his shirt over the side of the bed. “We’re supposed to be quiet. Rachel and Santana—”
“Just forget them,” Blaine interrupts, pulling Kurt close and kissing him hard as he tugs Kurt’s shirt up and off, only breaking the kiss for a second and then surging forward again once the shirt is gone. “Need you, Kurt.”
“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.
“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.”
Kurt/Blaine age difference AU (Kurt is 19, Blaine is 34), NC-17, 5800+ words.
warning for: daddy!kink, spanking, rimming & comeplay. also, NSFW visual reference.
“Since we both already know I’m going to go home with you, how about you buy me a drink?” Kurt asks, voice sweet and almost teasing, and Blaine grabs Kurt by the hips and turns him around so he doesn’t have to look at that pout playing on Kurt’s pink lips. His arms slide around Kurt’s stomach to hug him close from behind, staring out at the dance floor of the club.
“You’re still under the legal drinking age, sweetheart,” Blaine whispers into Kurt’s hair, feeling Kurt lean back against him. “Besides, you’re bad enough when you’re not drunk.”
“Not drunk,” Kurt insists. “Just tipsy. You snuck me in here, I’m sure you can pull a few strings.”
“I seem to recall,” Blaine says, grinning as soon as the memory flashes through his mind, “you had no problem getting into this club yourself six months ago.”
genuinewarmdecentfeeling prompted: Kurt and Blaine like the lack of walls (and consequent lack of privacy) in the loft a little too much.
“She’s not coming home,” Kurt murmurs against Blaine’s lips, hands already falling down to work his belt open.
“Kurt, she – her last class ended like fifteen minutes ago, how do you know she won’t–”
“Shh,” Kurt says and uses the ends of Blaine’s belt to throw him on the bed and climb on top.
“Oh god.” Blaine groans as Kurt rolls his hips down and cranes his neck up for another kiss. “This is totally a thing for you.”
evarren asked you: first time kurt bottoms
5,700+ words of fumbly sweet sex. NC-17. warning for rimming & barebacking.
It’s technically Kurt’s own fault for bringing it up to begin with, really.
“Do you ever think about going… you know. All the way?” Kurt asks, fingers playing with the corner of Blaine’s bedspread nervously. Usually Kurt’s much more relaxed after they fool around, lazy and clingy and kind of smug, but now he just seems restless.
“We have gone all the way,” Blaine says, eyebrows furrowed. What else do you call panting into your boyfriend’s neck while you come over his fist, sleepy and sated as he rubs against your hip to get off? They’ve gone all the way, like, 6.5 times now. They’re pros.
“No, I mean.” Kurt pauses, his neck and ears getting significantly redder - an easy way to tell when Kurt’s embarrassed. “Inside. Penetration, Blaine, with you inside me and oh gosh am I still talking?” Kurt starts to fan himself.
Blaine’s stomach flips. “Oh. That all the way.”
An anon requested: “Blaine and Kurt get into a stupid argument over something silly (could be to do with their apartment, someone hasn’t done the washing like they said they would??) then one of them says “would you just shut up” and the other replies “make me” suddenly fucking on the kitchen counter because woah sexual tension and argument is forgotten”
Warnings for: slightly rough sex, come play, and barebacking
Kurt comes home to a broken air-conditioner. This is more than enough to push his irritation up a full notch
He’s been dealing with a new boss since Monday, a woman who has been in the industry so long that she thinks she’d invented fashion, and even though he respects her experience their personalities and styles are already clashing, which does not bode well.
And then he discovers that they must have mice, because his instant oatmeal packets have been chewed open and there are little brown dots of vermin excrement everywhere in that particular cabinet. He throws away literally everything that isn’t sealed in thick plastic or metal, and has a small tantrum in the middle of their joke of a kitchen; they can’t afford to throw away groceries any more than they can afford an electrician to come repair the air conditioning.