Kurt/Blaine Fanfic Recommendations

To Finn,

Dear Finn,

I’m getting married tomorrow.

Okay so this whole thing obviously started after the whole “I love when you talk fratty” thing which is now officially one of my favorite klaine lines. I have all this headcanon where Blaine totally knows it’s a weakness of Kurt’s so he intentionally says it because he’s like, omg if I want my ex-boyfriend to date me again I need to use EVERYTHING I COULD POSSIBLY HAVE IN MY ARSENAL ASAP. So then this happened. Like everything I write, this was supposed to be a few thousand words but then exploded into 44k. I just … what, HOW?

FYI, these rules are based on a real bro code found online. Some things had to be re-worded and changed around a bit but it’s pretty dang close to the actual code. In case you want a laugh: http://www.collegesurvivalguide.org/bro-code/

Endless ENDLESS thanks to kat who was a constant cheerleader and basically convinced me that no, the whole thing wasn’t awful and no, I shouldn’t delete every word. And she was always around when I was like, hey what kind of booze to you think Kurt would drink at a bar?

And this thing is entirely written and finished; it’s just being edited and beta-ed (beta’d? betaed?) so no worries about this thing being abandoned or whatever.

Now I will stop talking. The end.

- - -

the bro code (and Blaine Anderson’s guide to breaking it)

So there’s a bro code.

It’s relayed to him a few weeks after he joins his fraternity. The rules seem easy and he’s not too worried.

Blaine Anderson is a rule follower.

Summary: Before Blaine can bring himself to ask Burt about marrying Kurt, Blaine asks his own father for his take on marriage.

Because who’s to say that Papa Anderson isn’t a good guy?

Words: 1,759

pg

Read FFN

unbeta’d: any faults are my own

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Dinner was usually a privet affair in the Anderson household. ‘Privet’ as in each member of the household fending for themselves for their evening meal. If the three respective schedules happened in intersect on a particular day, exceptions would of course be made, but usually this was not the case.

            For the last few weeks, however, the usual had been put on indefinite hold in favor of family dinners most nights of the week. Blaine had no qualms about this; in fact, it was quite a nice switch up. A switch up that would have been nice several months ago when he was at the peak of his loneliness, but it was better late than never. 

            Tuesday night finds Blaine at the table with only his father, his mother off for the evening with a few of her friends. The two men had prepared dinner together, an easy conversation flowing between them as they worked around each other. When they sat down together, it continued on without a hitch.

i’ve finished with all of my commitments for school (with the exception of walking across the stage to get my diploma!) and i would be more than happy to beta for someone.

Written for Klaine Week 2013. Today’s theme: skank!Klaine. 

catyuy requested  skank!Kurt and skank!Blaine trying to figure out what new color to streak their hair with. the-rainbow-jen requested a story that showed how skank!Kurt or skank!Blaine became a skank. travelingpact asked for skank!Klaine in punk bands. judearaya asked for Skank!Kurt climbing onto Blaine’s lap and a heated makeout session.

And somehow my brain mashed together all these concepts and turned them into a 4.15 reaction fic.

Notes: Crack, kink and feels. ~2,700 words. R for not-very-graphic sex. Not beta’ed - I won’t be offended and will probably will be pleased beyond measure if you point out any typos to me.

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“Light?” Blaine says, pressing a cigarette between his lips in a way that makes Kurt think of blowjobs.

title: I am a sex machine, ready to reload Author: Knits word count: 5395 Summary: Kurt’s never been skiing before, and he’s not even sure why he signed up for lessons. But when Blaine Anderson winds up being his private instructor, he gets a lot more than he bargained for.

******

 “Kurt? Kurt Hummel?”

Kurt glances up from the rack of ski coats he’d been flicking through, eyeing some with approval and some with absolute horror. Retro is one thing, but there are certain parts of the ’80s that should remain safely in the past.

“Here,” he means to say, but it catches in his throat when he sees the man searching for him with a giant grin on his face. Instead he just raises one hand and waves.

He’s short – but not too short. Compact and powerfully muscled – Kurt can see the light wool sweater straining over his chest underneath his unzipped jacket. Warm, light-brown eyes, sparkling at him. A beautiful beaming smile.

Ohhhhhh, Kurt, you are so in trouble.

“Hi there! I’m Blaine, and I’ll be your ski instructor. Did the rental department set you up already?”

based off this post; Blaine calls Kurt for advice about his crush on Sam warnings for mentions of blam and lots of klaine feels~ 

It’s past midnight when Kurt’s phone rings.

He’d been lying awake in bed, actually, torturing himself with whether or not he should join the Adam’s Apples or not, weighing pros and cons in his mind, so it isn’t like it woke him up, but he still groans as he rolls over to check the display.

Blaine’s smiling face peers up at him and Kurt unwillingly smiles to himself as he grabs it from his nightstand and swipes his thumb over the lock. He holds it up to his ear and falls onto his back again. “Don’t you have school tomorrow?” he greets him teasingly.

“I’m having a crisis,” is what Blaine says, his voice tight like it gets when he’s nervous.

“Why are you taking a picture of our sandwich order?”

“Because Burt doesn’t believe that you’ll actually eat a pastrami reuben, and I need photographic proof,” Blaine says, pocketing his phone. “I’m in to him for $40 already, and I don’t want to hear about it over Thanksgiving dinner.”

Kurt rolls his eyes, grabs their drinks and says, “Fine. But you’re not taking a picture of me stuffing my face.”

“You eat it with a fork, Kurt. It’s perfectly dignified,” Blaine replies, scanning the room for open tables. 

They both see it at the same time: A family of four getting ready to leave the When Harry Met Sally table.

In all the years they’ve been coming to Katz’s Deli, they’ve never sat at the table, but not for lack of trying. Once, they’d attempted to wait out a PDA-loving couple, but gave up after five minutes, before their sandwiches got cold. Another time, Kurt ended up in a standoff with a woman hauling too many Dean and DeLuca bags to be anything but a tourist. It ended with Blaine yanking him away before Kurt started raging. 

Without a word, they walk steadily toward the table, trying not to draw attention from eager out-of-towners. Just as the busser clears the last plate, they slide into the chairs, setting their tray down on the table triumphantly. 

“Oh my god,” Kurt whispers, as if someone might ask them to leave at any moment.