I’m looking for a werewolf fic where Blaine is the alpha and kurt the omega or beta, they aren’t together from the beginning. Blaines clan is really close I believe and has all the Dalton boys in it. I’m pretty sure that it isn’t a completed fic, and it definitely isn’t Hounds of God. I remember a scene where he goes to visit the Anderson home and they’re all there, and I’m not sure if I made this part up but they’re rich and possibly royalty, and blaines generation follows his parents.
I think this is the one you are looking for. - HKVoyage
The Beast Within Me by Dotje90
Kurt is forced to spend the summer before his senior year at the Andersons because his dad is too busy with congress business. Kurt is prepared for the worst summer with no contact with his friends, until he meets the mysterious Blaine Anderson. He’s immediately attracted to him but then he discovers Blaine has a big secret. Is it worth fighting for? Can they deal with the consequences of their relationship? Can Blaine protect Kurt from himself? MPREG!Kurt
tiny drabble of omega! kurt discovering the joys of errol flynn, i couldn’t create a version of nightcrawler that didn’t love the actor, it wouldn’t feel right
omega! kurt can have a little Amazon Prime, as a treat
@mikeellee @dannybagpipesarecalling
it starts off weird bc i was in a weird mood earlier
______________________________________
feelings were hard. Kurt had known that since before his conditioning. He'd never been one to say “I love you” nor had he received the words well, they just didn't feel real.
looking down at the small brunette hidden behind layers of the blanket fort they had built together, he sighs, nothing made sense. Setting his own blanket aside he stands up from their shared creation and walks towards the window, a distant ache within his chest. He didn’t know what love was really, truly. Kurt wasn’t sure he’d ever know what it was. When he really did have it in some semblance it was ripped away from him, taken by Stryker and his men. whatever family he’d had died that day and a part of him with them, sometimes he wished he had perished with them.
lifting a hand to touch his chest he wondered if at least someone was alive, maybe. grimacing he pressed a hand against his chest, the unfamiliar emotion kept rising within him. It felt .... sentimental, like a need to cry but he couldn’t. Nightcrawler wasn’t sure he had anything left inside of him but his bitter heart.
a loud snore then erupts from his sleeping companion causing the man to flinch. Kitty had moved from her former position thus completely tearing down the fort. Kurt stands up, former thoughts vanquished as he leans to pick up the new mess. It became harder not to laugh as the little mutant woman rolled around, kicked and stretched. Picking up the last of their defeated pillow fort he tosses the balled up blankets behind the couch between the walls, someone else would pick it up. Throwing himself down next to her he wrestled a blanket from her grasp and pulled it onto him, the greedy little minx. Laying down onto the new pallet he reaches a hand above the couch and feels for the remote, hoping he wouldn’t have to get up again. The side of his hand hits a small plastic object, bingo. Turning the tv back on he channel surfs for sometime, nothing interesting is ever on during the twilight hours. He clicks and clicks until a channel of black and white appears and a title “ The sea hawk “
Leaving it playing kurt sets the remote next to him and pulls the blanket up to his chin.
Within the first twenty minutes he was captivated, his full attention taken away from the existing world around him and given to the electric box in front of him. He found himself later sitting on the couch throwing his hands forward in a poor mimic of the swordplay, hell he knew better than anyone how to handle swords. He nearly jumped from the couch itself as the hero finally rescued his lady. By the time it was finished he was panting on the floor next to a sleeping kitty, his lady. Regaining his breath he immediately searched for the next movie. The channel changed into a boring series of cowboys and native Americans. Rapidly changing the channel in search of a movie similar he is stumped. Remembering the joys of digital media he takes the TV's second remote and begins his search on various movie streaming services. It takes him some time before he comes across an app that showcases all of the finest Errol Flynn movies. Looking down he sees a cost … hmmm.
He clicks onto the button and is stopped when it asks for a credit card and other important numbers. Squinting in the distance he recalls the numbers each x-men were given to access Xavier’s wealth, “only for emergency purposes” the bald man had told him. Whatever, Xavier could handle a few dollars of rented movies, besides he could care less what the psychic fuck had to say about it. Clicking the confirmation button he now officially owned an extensive collection of Errol Flynn movies, hurrah!
Quickly he settles back down onto his and kittys sleeping pallet, eager to experience more of the wonderful actor and his dashing heroism.
____________________
“ huuuh? What “ groans a particular jewish woman. Looking around she spots her wayward compatriot laying next to her in the shambles of their leftover pillow fort.
Kurt, still awake from dusk to dawn stares excitedly at the tv, letting genuine emotion seep through the cracks of his bitter appearance, only around kitty.
“ fuzzy …. Don’t tell me you were up all night watching movies? “
“ shhhh Kätzchen .. this is the part where Geoffrey saves the lady Dona! “ the blue man shushes her and wiggles comfortably further under the blanket to watch the movie.
Sighing the x-woman simply falls back onto their blanket-y hell and lulls back to sleep, she’d deal with whatever problem he’d made in a few more hours.
Hey guys, do you have any recs for omegaveese fics? Especially with Omega Kurt? It would be so cool if you could find one where both are omegas as well~ Thank you for your help!
All the fics below feature omega!Kurt. I couldn’t find a fic where both are omegas. Readers, if you know of one, please let us know. - HKVoyage
Who Says by Karanoaoi
Wolves mate for life once an Alpha claims their Omega mate, but the ways of choosing your mate are changing from the traditional meets where all non-mated wolves of age are thrown in together and you end up with a mate. Alphas still have to start a mating run, but what if the Omega has their eye on a certain Alpha? Follow the Anderson and Hummel families through these changes. A generational fic starting with Grandma Anderson and going through Kurt and Blaines generation. MPREG!KURT
Note: Part 1 of the The Life of a Werewolf series
~~~~~
Primitive Instincts by porcelain bird
The Warblers are just everyday teenage boys. Except for, you know, being werewolves. But when their Alpha male, Blaine Anderson chooses an outsider, Kurt Hummel to be his mate, things will start to get a little…wild. Rated M for smut in future chapters. MPREG!KURT
Sequel: Primitive Desires
~~~~~
My Love, My Own (orphan account)
In Kurt’s home village, alphas from the neighboring werewolf pack hold rights over all those who come of age. Burt has no intention of relinquishing his only son to a half-man half-beast, while Blaine has no intention of letting Kurt become the husband of anyone but himself.
~~~~~
Heart of One by Coribird
In which the boys are werewolves but Kurt has no idea what Blaine claiming him as a mate really entails. Reposted from this prompt at the GKM.
Do you have any fics like the Howlin’ series? Like where blaine is a alpha werewolf and kurt as a omega.
I’ve put the series you mentioned on the top of the list for our other followers. - HKVoyage
Howlin' by KlainebowsAndDramioneflies
A collection of 'drabbles' (they're really more like oneshots, but *shrug*) with werewolf!badboy!Blaine and human!Kurt (eventually werewolf!Kurt). Very kinky smut. There's also plot. But there's a lot of kink. So...
~~~~~
Reflections verse by @caramelcoffeeaddict
This series blends supernatural elements - such as soulmates, werewolves, warlocks, hybrids, & magic - with the modern human world. These supernatural elements are unknown to the humans around them; considered to be nothing more than myths. It’s a semi-twisted AU of Klaine’s story from season 2.
~~~~~
Who Says by Karanoaoi
Wolves mate for life once an Alpha claims their Omega mate, but the ways of choosing your mate are changing from the traditional meets where all non-mated wolves of age are thrown in together and you end up with a mate. Alphas still have to start a mating run, but what if the Omega has their eye on a certain Alpha? Follow the Anderson and Hummel families through these changes. A generational fic starting with Grandma Anderson and going through Kurt and Blaines generation. MPREG
Note: Part 1 of the The Life of a Werewolf series
~~~~~
For Which I Have to Howl by EmilianaDarling
Werewolf AU. Tension is rising in the pack, and having the very-human Kurt Hummel come to visit his brother and boyfriend is putting a strain on everyone. Having Blaine and Kurt mate should help the problem, but the process proves to be more complicated – both physically and emotionally – than either of them could have imagined.
“A hand on Blaine’s arm is enough to keep him in place. Physically, there is no way that Kurt could restrain Blaine from doing anything he wants. The gesture, however, is enough.”
~~~~~
Ontás lýkos by Verseau_87
Back from New York and visiting his parent’s during summer vacation, Kurt (literally) bumps into Blaine. Another werewolf like him. Their love is quick and easy, but it seems life is never that simple. Trying to enjoy their time together and merge their respective packs, they both must navigate being in love, over coming every obstacle along the way.
Note: This is the first story in the Being Wolves Series.
~~~~~
Never Close Enough by @skintightsocksfic
Blaine’s eyes are dark, much darker than Kurt ever remembers them being, and Kurt’s going to have to start marking Blaine’s freaky werewolf mating season on his calendar if it gets Blaine to act like this, all uninhibited and desperate to be close to Kurt, to taste him, to have sex with him.
Note: Part 1 of the Werewolf Blaine series
~~~~~
I’d Walk To You (If I Could Trust My Feet) by luthien82
Kurt Hummel is a born werewolf. A born Alpha. He’s telling you what to do and you will like it. And he is NOT OKAY with the fact that for some reason, he wants to submit to Blaine Anderson, Alpha wolf of Westerville.
"Lytton." Blaine droned, slouching onto his elbow and nudging the leg of his table with his foot.
"Lytton —" the elderly man let the name hang — urging Blaine to complete it.
Blaine tapped his desk with the point of his feather pen, "Lytton Foster the second, Lytton the Sturdy, Lord of Wasir Valley, decedent of Odon, King of too many things."
"Do you mock my teachings?" the man intoned, the white whiskers of his mustache curling down with his expression.
Godfrey was a short and stocky man, but the crows feet at the corner of his eyes and the tremor in his fingers tell the truth of his age. He snatches the feather from Blaine's fingers, "These are your ancestors we are learning about, you might do with some respect!"
"Learning about dead people isn't going to help me. Can't I go see Curtis already? I'm suppose to do bow training today."
Godfrey wraps his hand around Blaine's wrist in urgency, "But that's just it Blaine. It will help you. Haven't you noticed that Aaron Foster doesn't hold the title of Lord of Wasir Valley? That's because Lytton Foster made the mistake of investing in false hopes. He let a complete foreigner with a silk tongue persuade him to invest in a gold mine. If Lytton had heeded to his counselor's words and investigated this mine further, he would've found it was desolate. Instead he invested thousands of gold chips into a worthless wasteland. He could only return to his high form of living by selling most of his property to the other Elite families. That's why the Andersons own a third of Wasir Valley now and why Lytton the Sturdy is now known as Lytton the Fooled."
Blaine mocked a yawn, "Don't worry. Should I acquire any morsel of the Anderson fortune by the good grace of my if my elder brother, I won't be as gullible as the Fosters."
Godfrey's lips tightened, "Hush now. You shouldn't speak of your relatives in such a manner."
"You know Jeff is a dear friend of mine Godfrey, I'm just bored is all."
"Jefferson." Godfrey corrects.
Blaine rolls his eyes, "He is my friend and I call him Jeff."
"It's improper to throw around these cut-off names."
"If I find myself in a formal setting, I'll be sure to use the proper name Godfrey." Blaine assures, rising from his chair. "Now can I take my leave?"
"You may, but be back tomorrow, earlier than you arrived today." Godfrey wraps his fingers around the rail of Blaine's chair to help himself rise.
Blaine opens the large wooden entrance to his room to walk down a flight of stone stairs. His guard Donston follows loudly on his heels, metal plates clanking with every step, Blaine's already immune to the nuisance.
Below the stairs the smell of baking bread and roasting quail waft through the air. Blaine hears Rueford shouting at his apprentice cook, "This garlic is too chunky, I said mince not chop!" some muttering on the other end then his reply, "Well, someone's bound to choke on it and I won't be the one taking a whipping for that!"
Blaine enters the kitchen. Rueford is sitting on the wooden countertop, taking a swig of ale from a trencher while keeping an eye on the poor young lad sweating over a cutting board.
"Blaine!" Rueford smiles, ruffling Blaine's hair affectionately once he approaches, "Where are you off to boy?"
"The yard. Curtis should be waiting." Blaine grabs an apple from a basket on the counter, trying to move his dark curls back into place with his other hand, there was no point though, it'd always be unruly unless he smeared it with grease.
"I'm making your favorite tonight for the main entree — braised venison." Rueford reveals, his smile straightens when he sees the somber face of Blaine's guard.
"Looking forward to it." Blaine takes a bite of his apple, walking off towards the main hall then into the light of the morning.
Out in the yard he finds his combat master Curtis holding two saddled stallions with reins and two longbows tucked under his arms.
Curtis is a lean man of thirty. Younger than other high knights, but well-experienced. If you didn't believe it — he had the marks to prove it. A hideous scar across his forearm from an arrow, a slanted one across his back from an axe that grazed him, and among other healed wounds, a pale left eye from a close and personal encounter. Partial blindness might hinder any other man, but not Curtis, if anything, it made him even more battle-crazed.
Never one to linger, Curtis hands Blaine his wooden bow and quiver, and mounts his own horse. Donston, Blaines guard, is forced to walk to the stables and join up with them at a later time.
Blaine follows Curtis in silence, petting the mane of his horse to calm him a bit before trotting off. They gallop past the gardens and to the front gate, to be waved through by the two guards fully suited in armor and past the fountains at the extravagant entrance. Curtis leads him into an open field to the left of the Andersons' Castle. After a good amount of distance Blaine spots the two targets Curtis had previously set up.
Blaine tugs on his reins to slow his horse down.
While steering his horse into a half circle with his left hand, Curtis manages to pull an arrow out of his quiver. In a span of a few seconds, he drops his reins, notches his arrow, and releases it at the target.
It's not a bullseye, but stunningly close.
"Notch your bow." Curtis commands, grabbing another arrow and somehow managing to stay balanced on the back of the moving animal.
Fooled by the look of ease Curtis displayed, Blaine lets go of his reins to grab the neck of one of his own arrows. He struggles to straighten the arrow against the string with the horse's unsteady balance and nearly falls off of stallion when it makes an unguided sharp turn.
"You fail to take up proper stance, yet you've been letting arrows loose since you were weaned off your mother's milk. " Curtis teases.
Blaine grimaces, grabbing his reins once again and holding the bow and arrow in the other, "I do not know the proper stance when mounted."
"You're thinking too much, it is just unbalanced ground on which you sit. The only difference I would think is being quick to grab your reins before you tumble off."
"It is surely not that easy."
"But it is."
It takes Curtis four hours of drills to finally relent, closing their practice session with discontent. Blaine can now hit a target on a regular basis, but still misses occasionally — not to the satisfaction of his teacher.
Blaine only remembers Donston's absence when he finally sees him approaching at a leisurely pace to relay a message, "Your father wishes for your presence at the Foster's household for supper tonight. Milly will prepare water for a bath and dress your accordingly."
This was surely an unexpected change of schedule, dinner was already made for the Andersons and it was even Blaine's favorite.A pity. Blaine thought, Rueford seemed so proud of tonight's meal. What could be so important? His father, Richard Anderson, rarely strayed beyond the comforts of his own servants, preferring to thrive apart from his distant relatives.
Shrugging off the question, Blaine happily obliges to leaving Curtis' now sour mood. He'd have to make up for his "poor" performance today by hitting all his targets next time. That'd only be possible if he practiced on his own time before their next meetup.
After taking his hot bath, Milly, his servant, forces him into uncomfortable formal attire. First, a white dress shirt covered with a burgundy velvet doublet, then some night black breeches. Milly insistes he wear at least one piece of jewelry, so he complies with his elite sigil ring, a golden band studded with chips of diamonds, meant to be stars surrounding the full moon at the center.
Milly gives up trying to brush Blaine's dark hair into something that doesn't look unruly, leaving the curly locks to their nature. He's running late by the time that finishes and misses the family's carriage, he doesn't mind though, being cooped up in a small box and under his father's constant scrutiny was tiresome.
Blaine mounts his personal mare Esner for the short trip. He takes his time trotting towards the Foster's foyer, Donston following in his shadow. All of the Elite families were enclosed by a formidable wall with guards on it's perimeters. Despite being enclosed, this area dubbed Odon's Lands, was a good size. It was about a two hundred and fifty acres, leaving a good portion of land for the four families to stomp on, but it was still known that the Elite owned land across Quinton exceeding two thousand acres.
After about a twenty minute ride the mansion comes into view once he passes the trees at the front. There's the Foster's stable boy Puck to greet him and take his horse in and one of their maids to lead him into the dining room to the feast that already started.
Conversation is being passed around as servants place dishes next to primly organized eating utensils. Blaine guesses that this is the second course, being soup — a cream based soup drizzled with coarsely cut cheddar, served in pewter bowls.
Donston joins the other Foster and Anderson guards lined up respectfully against the wall, watching in silence.
Nobody pays much mind to Blaine's late entrance when he enters, except Jeff's pat on the back after he takes his seat on the table. The servants quickly accommodate him with a course too, pouring him a cup of white wine.
Blaine quickly notes that this isn't a fully fledged dinner, only Aaron Foster, Jeff, and his father. He hones in on the topic going on between the head of the house, Aaron, and his father.
"- was out in the woods in broad daylight. Unsurprisingly, some commoner comes along, sees something pretty, and thinks he can just take it — take my daughter." Aaron holds his fork and knife stiffly, his face is a picture of controlled anger framed with close-cut white hair and a trimmed beard.
"And pray tell what Casey, a twelve year old girl, was doing out in the middle of a forest, unsupervised?" Mr. Anderson questions skeptically.
One of the few admirable traits Blaine found in his father was his unfailing keen sense of smelling a twisted story — although that has worked against Blaine one time or another.
Aaron waves off Mr. Anderson's words, "Regardless of whether or not my daughter was dragging a dead body or just taking a leisurely stroll, no filthy boy has a right to lay a finger against an Elite. I'm having that bastard hung."
Mr. Anderson takes a sip of his wine before accepting the outcome, "If it must be done."
"It must." Aaron insists.
"Casey got attacked by werewolf yesterday." Jeff puts in for Blaine quietly, so as not not disturb their fathers.
Blaine knows Casey had a habit of getting into trouble and didn't doubt that the poor boy now on death-row was innocent. Blaine doesn't bother replying, opting to keep his unwelcomed opinion out of it.
Jeff senses Blaine's thought and continues after sweeping away a piece of his blonde hair out of his face, "I told my dad that Casey probably provoked him, but he won't have it, not when Casey has a scratch across her face for everyone to see."
Blaine nods, unfazed at Aaron Foster's unyielding pride. If there was anything to salvage from the Fosters it was definitely Jeff's good-nature.
When the cream soup is finishes, the servants round the table to collect the dishes and offer the next course — grilled duck with lemon dressing and thinly sliced blanched almonds. Thick carvings of sourdough bread were also laid in personal dishes beside each meal.
Aaron refuses to take his plate saying, "Bring me the next course, I hate duck." His loyal servant scatteres away quickly to the given order, returning with roasted pork smothered in sweet and tangy red sauce.
"Where's Cooper today?" Aaron inquires, to end the awkward silence that befell the room.
"He went abroad last week. We've been discussing it for awhile now." Mr. Anderson cuts a square out of his duck, "I told him a formidable ruler should be well-rounded and a worldly individual and since he is my eldest it only makes sense that he become that."
"Rightly so! I've told Jeff the same thing." Aaron takes this opportunity to eye Jeff in expectancy before turning to Blaine, "And what about you Blaine? Are you planning to travel abroad?"
Mr. Anderson sends Blaine a cold look, daring Blaine to make a foolish response.
"Yes, in two years time after Curtis and Godfrey approve." to which Blaine really means, when my father approves.
Mr. Anderson cuts in before Blaine can speak more, "We know all Elites must exemplify the highest standard whether or not they are destined to rule."
Blaine nearly snorts at his father's failed attempt to make him not feel alienated, but snuffs it out with a bite of his meal.
Mr. Anderson might've continued, but a servant hiking up her dress, so as not to trip , rushed through the entrance successfully diverting his attention.
She immediately stops next to Mr. Foster leaning forward to whisper something in his ear.
"Here? Now?" Mr. Foster nearly jumps from his seat, before coming to his senses and realizing he still has guests.
"I'm sorry Richard," Mr. Foster looks to Mr. Anderson, "It's that common boy, the guards have brought him up to the gate."
"Well now, that's no reason to apologize." Mr. Anderson smiles slyly, "We can still have our dinner, I'm curious about this perpetrator as well, let us have a look."
Mr. Foster looks perplexed momentarily, "I'm not sure if it's appropriate to bring a criminal into the perimeters of our home."
"Oh, come on Aaron, what are you afraid of? We have guards." Mr. Anderson teases.
"Very well," Aaron directs the breathless messenger, "tell them to bring the boy in."
