yourdaltonspammer:

 “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you gone?” Blaine seethed, lighting up his cigarette, violently tossing aside the match.
Kurt flinched at the tone, bracing himself as if to be struck or hit. Blaine had always been far more gentle than he had anticipated, but Kurt knew that one did not become a crime lord without a streak of cruelty and malice.
“I needed to see my father.”
“Who wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for me.” Blaine snarled through his teeth, rounding on Kurt. He flinched again, clinging to the hem of his shirt, wishing that he had the dignity of more clothing. Blaine, who let his own father die. How could he understand that Burt was all Kurt had in the world? Loved him enough to disobey direct orders to go and see him in the hospital. Enough to sell his body and life to Anderson in exchange for the surgery.
Blaine sat down on a chair, slinging one arm over the back and took a long drag from his cigarette. His eyes were tired, his entire body run down.To the world, he stood tall and tyrannical. It was this side of him that Kurt knew he was allowed to see. Because Kurt was nobody. Nothing. A warm body to be used for release.
Blaine beconed Kurt to come forward.
Once upon a time, Kurt was shy and reserved. He was a boy that giggled for hours after his first kiss. Who blushed and ran with his fingers in his ears when his father wanted to talk to him about the mechanics of sex.
What would that boy think of him now? Kurt obediently sat on Blaine’s lap, his soft naked cock resting against his thigh. The buttons of his shirt were wrent by Blaine’s rough hands, the article pushed down to expose his chest, made creamy and soft from expensive lotions for Blaine’s pleasure. Kurt no longer whimpered or blushed when Blaine groped his backside, or slipped a finger between his cheeks.
“Forgive me, master.” Kurt whispered. He could feel the growing, clothed buldge pressing against him, hot and insistant. Even now he could remember the stabs of pain from that night Blaine punished him by throwing him against the wall, fucking him dry. Even after the blood and the tears, he had been forced to come against his will. He was to learn who his body belonged to now.
To his deepest humiliation, Kurt realized his chest was pert, his cock half-hard just from Blaine teasing the rim of his hole. He wished he could be as willing and obedient as his body already was.
“Go on then.”
“Thank you, master.” Kurt gasped, grabbing the nearby jar of expensive lube. Blaine leaned back, taking another drag from his cigarette and enjoyed the sight. Expertly now, Kurt slicked his fingers and leaned forward, quickly stretching and widening himself. He bit his lip, trying to ignore the sensation as Blaine pinched his nipple, rolling the bud between his index and middle fingers. Kurt knew he didn’t have long before Blaine’s hungers got the better of him, and his patience ran out. 

OHMYGOD ;_; drabble for me *______________* so happy now

yourdaltonspammer:

 “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you gone?” Blaine seethed, lighting up his cigarette, violently tossing aside the match.

Kurt flinched at the tone, bracing himself as if to be struck or hit. Blaine had always been far more gentle than he had anticipated, but Kurt knew that one did not become a crime lord without a streak of cruelty and malice.

“I needed to see my father.”

“Who wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for me.” Blaine snarled through his teeth, rounding on Kurt. He flinched again, clinging to the hem of his shirt, wishing that he had the dignity of more clothing. Blaine, who let his own father die. How could he understand that Burt was all Kurt had in the world? Loved him enough to disobey direct orders to go and see him in the hospital. Enough to sell his body and life to Anderson in exchange for the surgery.

Blaine sat down on a chair, slinging one arm over the back and took a long drag from his cigarette. His eyes were tired, his entire body run down.To the world, he stood tall and tyrannical. It was this side of him that Kurt knew he was allowed to see. Because Kurt was nobody. Nothing. A warm body to be used for release.

Blaine beconed Kurt to come forward.

Once upon a time, Kurt was shy and reserved. He was a boy that giggled for hours after his first kiss. Who blushed and ran with his fingers in his ears when his father wanted to talk to him about the mechanics of sex.

What would that boy think of him now? Kurt obediently sat on Blaine’s lap, his soft naked cock resting against his thigh. The buttons of his shirt were wrent by Blaine’s rough hands, the article pushed down to expose his chest, made creamy and soft from expensive lotions for Blaine’s pleasure. Kurt no longer whimpered or blushed when Blaine groped his backside, or slipped a finger between his cheeks.

“Forgive me, master.” Kurt whispered. He could feel the growing, clothed buldge pressing against him, hot and insistant. Even now he could remember the stabs of pain from that night Blaine punished him by throwing him against the wall, fucking him dry. Even after the blood and the tears, he had been forced to come against his will. He was to learn who his body belonged to now.

To his deepest humiliation, Kurt realized his chest was pert, his cock half-hard just from Blaine teasing the rim of his hole. He wished he could be as willing and obedient as his body already was.

“Go on then.”

“Thank you, master.” Kurt gasped, grabbing the nearby jar of expensive lube. Blaine leaned back, taking another drag from his cigarette and enjoyed the sight. Expertly now, Kurt slicked his fingers and leaned forward, quickly stretching and widening himself. He bit his lip, trying to ignore the sensation as Blaine pinched his nipple, rolling the bud between his index and middle fingers. Kurt knew he didn’t have long before Blaine’s hungers got the better of him, and his patience ran out. 

OHMYGOD ;_; drabble for me *______________* so happy now

(Source: zephyrianboom, via bluelightsaboveus)


2 years ago / 1,550 notes / © zephyrianboom

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