Kurt Hummel Novels & Stories

It was painful to be talking like this, but it was the truth. “Something is happening between us, Nolan. You know it. I know it. But every time I start to believe in it… you turn your back on me. You treat me like I’m nothing, like I’m just here to fill the role of your Luna, a name and nothing more.” I said, voicing out my pain. “You treat me like I am nothing more than a duty that you are forced into, despite you showing something different when the two of us are alone. You give me the wrong signals, you look at me and the two of us disconnect and then you turn your back on me.”

Damien hollers across the course, breaking our stare off and I feel my cheeks burning as I reach up to unclip the first metal part of the harness, turning my hand to stick my middle finger up at Damien as I do so. He laughs loudly, the sound carries across the forest and I'm tempted to push him off the ledge, knowing of course he won't go anywhere because his harness will save him, but it would be nice to scare him into silence. "Don't look at me like that. I'm so happy for you, you know that." He pulls me into a hug when he reaches me, both of us looking in surprise at Cain when he makes an odd sort of feral growling noise, which he almost immediately covers by coughing.

I immediately saved her number. Me: yeah sure. unknown: 9th XXX drive. I looked at the weather app on my phone to check if it was too cold to go, we were smack dab in the middle of October and if it was too cold then sorry. It was 56 degrees outside, I guess it wasn't too cold. Me: kk.

A paragon of neat and clean. His uniform was the same as the chauffer's, a white dress shirt tucked neatly under a pair of black trousers. Unlike the chauffer's cuff links which were silver in color, his were gold. A higher rank. In addition he wore a black buttoned half sweater and his feet and socks were buried in his polished black shoes. It was easy to see the the Wushi family crest imbued on his left wrist since it was not a regulation to wear gloves for the senior servants of the

I ran in as well, only to get stopped by Hunter as he got in front of me and dad. My eyes travelled around the room and I locked eyes with the man who would soon become the man of my dreams and the man in my nightmares. Austin Dechart.

Kurt hasn’t spoken to me since the night that we broke him out of the hospital. Won’t answer my calls or texts and he has nothing to say through the wolves that are helping us. Oddly enough, he and Caleb have some kind of odd relationship going. I wouldn’t go so far as to call them friends, since their interactions are a little too aggressive and waspish to be friendly. But Kurt seems to have made Caleb his person. Not just to find out about werewolves, but also to bring with him when he talks to the police, the insurance adjuster, his boss, and even Mickey.

he murmured in my ear. What the hell? “That’s Kurt, Kurt Whittaker of Swegel Holdings,” I replied. “He’s been really helpful, handles the board and the donors when I’m, uh, indisposed. Why are you acting so weird?” “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe my spider sense is tingling. It’s probably nothing, but my instincts have kept me alive and out of jail so far. When they say something I listen.” His eyes flicked back and forth, searching his memory. “I’m not like you. You know—legit. There are lots of people who want to get to know me better. In a bad way.”

The passenger door opened, and Dirk's breath caught in his throat as he saw who emerged from the vehicle. Kurt. He was dressed in a navy blue shirt and black pants that hugged his muscular frame. His dark hair was pushed back off his face, revealing his tan skin and handsome features. He looked glorious, and the sight of him knocked the living daylight out of Dirk. Dirk's vision blurred, and a wave of dizziness washed over him. He began to stumble, his body threatening to give way beneath him. But just as he was about to fall, strong arms wrapped around him, holding him tenderly. Kurt's presence was a lifeline amidst the chaos.