Immobilized By My Fears (And Soon To Be Blinded By Tears)
Title: Immobilized By My Fears (And Soon To Be Blinded By Tears)
Pairing: Puck/Kurt
Rating: R
Word Count: 2,080
Status: Complete
Note: Written for a prompt by drikadas in the puckurt meme: "Blindfold kink gone wrong." Hope this fill is okay. It ended up pretty dark...
Summary: Kurt just wanted to try something new. He didn't know Puck would react like this.
WARNINGS: Past non-con, present dub-con, bondage, and blindfold kink
“Stop.”
Puck paused, eyes questioning as he stared at his boyfriend, the tip of his lubed finger pressed lightly against Kurt’s opening. “What?”
Kurt pushed himself up, sliding out from under Puck, and crawled into his lap. His arms weaved around Puck’s neck, lips kissing their way up Puck’s neck, and hands stroking their way up his chest with a tentative kind of bravery.
“I want to try something new.”
He shoved against Puck’s chest, forcing the footballer onto his back. Puck smirked up at him, curious, as Kurt’s fingers traced lazy patterns on his cock.
“Trust me?” he asked, confidence growing as Puck nodded in reply. “Then close your eyes.” His voice was softer this time, huskier.
He waited a few seconds to make sure Puck wasn’t peeking before he reached beneath his bed and slid out the package that had come in the mail a week ago. It had taken him that long and the seven to ten day shipping time to work up the nerve to do this.
To dominate Noah Puckerman.
He dug through for a minute, letting the plastic crinkle around his hands just to make Puck squirm. His heart didn’t stop hammering when he finally pulled out the leather cuffs and he could swear it was going to burst from his chest as he guided Puck’s arms above his head.
They clicked shut, firm and secure from where they were strung between the iron posts on his headboard. Puck strained against them, testing them like this wasn’t his first time tied to a bed.
Kurt didn’t like the idea that someone else had done that.
Not one bit.
He shook himself of the thought, quickly grabbing the final item from the box before he gathered up the rest of his courage and leaned into Puck’s ear.
“I am going to fuck you so hard,” he whispered, biting softly at Puck’s earlobe, and prompting a moan. “Gonna make you beg. But just so you don’t peek...”
The blindfold, black and thick, went over Puck’s closed eyes and Kurt felt the other boy go rigid. He paused for a second, waiting for Puck to speak up if he didn’t want it, but nothing came and he pushed the hesitation back. They’d never done this before, he reminded himself. He was the first guy Puck had done anything with.
He’d be the first guy to put his dick in Puck’s ass.
The idea brought a smile to Kurt’s face and he pinched Puck’s pierced nipple.
---
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.
He didn’t breathe, didn’t move. He couldn’t. Kurt’s mouth closed around his collarbone and Puck recognized, knew the feeling of Kurt giving him a hickey, but he stayed frozen.
His eyes opened against the blindfold. Nothing came through the cloth, not a single spot of light. Just blackness. Tiny gasps began to escape him, short, strangled breaths that didn’t give his brain nearly enough oxygen.
He could hear Kurt above him, whispering filthy words that on a normal day would have been enough to make him come in seconds. Not this time. Not now. Not when his brain wasn’t getting enough oxygen and his head was starting to feel light. Not when the backs of his eyes began to sting.
Not when the memory of it started to replay across his blackened vision like a fucking movie.
He smirked, following Mrs. Keller into her bedroom. He was already shirtless, pants undone and cock hard as he watched her put her naked ass on display while she reached for the cuffs he figured her husband had never seen.
She was kinky, hadn’t tried to hide it. He liked that about her. It made her sexy, this small and sensual woman that had more kinky shit than Santana Lopez.
And that was saying something.
“Your turn,” she said, cuffs twirling around her finger as he stripped out of his jeans and climbed onto the bed. It wasn’t the first time he’d let her cuff him and to be honest, he kind of liked it. Straining against the restraints as she rode him, handing over the control. It was fucking hot.
“We’re going to try something a little different this time,” she purred, holding up a silk blindfold. He smirked, let her tie it around his head, and leaned back.
She was sliding a condom over his dick in seconds and on him even faster. Fast and hard this time. She always seemed to know when they had to rush things. Had to make sure he was out before her husband got home.
Moans ripped through both of them as she moved, his hips bucking against her and driving himself further inside.
Then she stopped.
He groaned in protest as she got off, voice catching when a hand cupped his cheek.
A hand that was too big to be Mrs. Keller’s.
A guy’s hand.
“Been having fun fucking my wife?”
Mr. Keller.
Oh, shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
Mr. Keller chuckled, his hand closing around his cock and giving it a painful tug. Puck cried out, suddenly soft as the sexiness of this went from high to getthefuckoffme.
“She says you’re great.”
What?!
Puck pulled against the cuffs, but they didn’t budge, special order leather unrelenting as he fought.
“Look,” he said, nerves eating at him, “just untie me and-”
“Not before I get my turn.”
OhGodfuckingno.
The blood drained from Puck’s face and he stopped fighting the restraints as those words echoed in his head. No. No. No. No. NO. Not happening. Nothing doing. He wasn’t gay. There was no way in hell that he was going to let-
Then lips that he knew weren’t Mrs. Keller’s were on his and a tongue forced his mouth open.
Kurt’s fingers, cold and slick, pushed inside of him and he tensed, body shaking. His mind screamed at Kurt to stop, but the words never made it to his vocal chords. Fingers brushed his prostate and his body reacted, cock jumping.
“Stop,” he whispered in a beg, fighting the bonds as Mr. Keller’s fingers pulled out of his ass. He sighed, relieved for all of a second.
And then there was a cock inside him.
Stretching him.
Tearing him apart.
Kurt eased himself in and some part of Puck’s mind knew that dominant or not, Kurt was being gentle with him, easing him into what he thought was Puck’s first time getting fucked.
It didn’t feel gentle, though. Puck couldn’t even feel Kurt.
All he could feel was Mr. Keller, thrusting too hard and too fast. Tears gathered in his eyes, soaking the silk of the blindfold.
Pain.
So much pain.
“Stop...”
---
Kurt froze mid-thrust.
“Stop...”
The word was whispered, still as soft as it had been the first time. Barely audible. Choked. His eyes flew open, no longer closed in pleasure, and he saw them.
The darker patches on the black blindfold.
The spots of blood on Puck’s bottom lip from where he’d bitten straight through.
And for the first time since he started this, it clicked in his mind that this was bad. That Puck wasn’t tense in nervousness. That Puck’s gasps hadn’t been in pleasure.
He pulled out as carefully as he could, hating himself every second and even more as Puck gave a strangled whimper. The second he was free, his hands were tearing the blindfold off.
Puck’s tears came faster as the shock of the light hit his eyes and he fought the restraints, small sobs that seemed to echo in Kurt’s mind as he scrambled to undo the bonds. The click of the cuffs releasing almost made him sob in relief.
His own hands shook as he put a hand on Puck’s shoulder and guilty tears flooded his vision at the recoil.
Stupid. So stupid. How could he not have been able to tell that...
What had he done?
Rape.
A voice in the back of his mind screamed it and Kurt felt the nausea rise in him. He wanted to hide, wanted to run away and just throw up, but...he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave Puck.
But how could he stay? How could he stay when he’d...
Puck let out an ugly noise, something between a sob and a gag, and Kurt shook his head, forcing away any thought of leaving. He couldn’t walk away. Not when Puck needed him.
This time, he didn’t let Puck withdraw. He wrapped his arms around him, tight, and let Puck bury his face in his neck as he lost himself in what Kurt was almost certain was a panic attack. The sobbing gags kept coming, acting like a vice grip on Kurt’s chest and squeezing out even more tears.
“Come stop your crying.”
The lyrics came without a thought, a reflex. His dad had sung it to him when he was little (horribly off-key, but it was the thought that counted), just after his mom died. It had been his favorite movie back then and the song...it was the only thing that could calm him down.
“It will be all right. Just take my hand,” his hand wrapped around the top of Puck’s, “Hold it tight.”
He kept singing, voice cracking, until Puck had calmed, lying tired and defeated against his chest.
They sat there together for a long while, neither saying a word. Kurt didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know if by opening his mouth, he’d just make things worse.
He’d raped Puck.
The thought alone made him sick and made tears return to his eyes.
He didn’t deserve to be holding Puck right now. Not after what he’d done. Puck should be fighting him, screaming, calling the cops, something. Something that wasn’t just lying there like he hadn’t just-
“It wasn’t you.”
The words were whispered, barely a decibel over the level that Puck had used in his pleas to stop, but they rang in Kurt’s head like a bell.
Kurt wished those words made him feel better, but they didn’t. All they did was bring another soul-crushing weight onto his chest because it was his stupid attempt to be sexy and spontaneous that had caused this.
---
Puck rose from his spot on Kurt’s chest, sitting on his haunches as the sheets moved with him. He tugged them a bit closer without a thought.
His throat hurt and his nose felt like it was still running. That telltale burn in his ass was there, but nowhere near the tearing pain that had remained after Mr. Keller had finished. He sniffed, fists clutching the blanket as he pointedly didn’t look at Kurt.
“I...” The words got stuck in his throat, refusing to reach his vocal cords. He bit his lip for a moment, only realizing now that he’d bitten through. He swallowed thickly. “I...it wasn’t you.”
It was stupid. He’d already said that, but...the other words wouldn’t come.
How the hell was he supposed to tell Kurt what had happened?
He’d tried. He really had. He knew he’d frozen when Kurt put the blindfold on. No one...he hadn’t let anyone blindfold him since that day. Cuffs he dealt with fine. It was not being able to see, not being able to anticipate what was going to happen next. Blindfolds left him vulnerable.
He’d tried to adjust to it, to remind himself that it was Kurt, but the memory had come too fast and...
“It wasn’t you.”
---
“Then what?” Kurt asked softly when Puck repeated himself for a third time. “If it wasn’t me...” he trailed off, a frown marring his face before his mouth fell slack and his face paled. “I...Puck...was it...”
He never finished the sentence. Puck’s tightened grip on the blanket and the shame on his face were answer enough and a soft sob escaped him.
It wasn’t him.
It was someone else.
Somewhere inside him, it hurt, this realization that someone had hurt Puck, that Puck hadn’t told him. He’d said that Kurt was the first guy he’d had sex with.
A voice in his head quipped darkly that he probably was the first guy that was consensual.
Puck opened his mouth again, probably to try and say something about it, but Kurt just shook his head.
“It’s okay,” he said and hoped that Puck understood everything he meant behind it.
You don’t have to say anything.
Tell me when you’re ready.
This doesn’t change anything.
He took Puck’s hand, fingers laced together, and squeezed.
I love you.
The End
Pairing: Puck/Kurt
Rating: R
Word Count: 2,080
Status: Complete
Note: Written for a prompt by drikadas in the puckurt meme: "Blindfold kink gone wrong." Hope this fill is okay. It ended up pretty dark...
Summary: Kurt just wanted to try something new. He didn't know Puck would react like this.
WARNINGS: Past non-con, present dub-con, bondage, and blindfold kink
“Stop.”
Puck paused, eyes questioning as he stared at his boyfriend, the tip of his lubed finger pressed lightly against Kurt’s opening. “What?”
Kurt pushed himself up, sliding out from under Puck, and crawled into his lap. His arms weaved around Puck’s neck, lips kissing their way up Puck’s neck, and hands stroking their way up his chest with a tentative kind of bravery.
“I want to try something new.”
He shoved against Puck’s chest, forcing the footballer onto his back. Puck smirked up at him, curious, as Kurt’s fingers traced lazy patterns on his cock.
“Trust me?” he asked, confidence growing as Puck nodded in reply. “Then close your eyes.” His voice was softer this time, huskier.
He waited a few seconds to make sure Puck wasn’t peeking before he reached beneath his bed and slid out the package that had come in the mail a week ago. It had taken him that long and the seven to ten day shipping time to work up the nerve to do this.
To dominate Noah Puckerman.
He dug through for a minute, letting the plastic crinkle around his hands just to make Puck squirm. His heart didn’t stop hammering when he finally pulled out the leather cuffs and he could swear it was going to burst from his chest as he guided Puck’s arms above his head.
They clicked shut, firm and secure from where they were strung between the iron posts on his headboard. Puck strained against them, testing them like this wasn’t his first time tied to a bed.
Kurt didn’t like the idea that someone else had done that.
Not one bit.
He shook himself of the thought, quickly grabbing the final item from the box before he gathered up the rest of his courage and leaned into Puck’s ear.
“I am going to fuck you so hard,” he whispered, biting softly at Puck’s earlobe, and prompting a moan. “Gonna make you beg. But just so you don’t peek...”
The blindfold, black and thick, went over Puck’s closed eyes and Kurt felt the other boy go rigid. He paused for a second, waiting for Puck to speak up if he didn’t want it, but nothing came and he pushed the hesitation back. They’d never done this before, he reminded himself. He was the first guy Puck had done anything with.
He’d be the first guy to put his dick in Puck’s ass.
The idea brought a smile to Kurt’s face and he pinched Puck’s pierced nipple.
---
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.
He didn’t breathe, didn’t move. He couldn’t. Kurt’s mouth closed around his collarbone and Puck recognized, knew the feeling of Kurt giving him a hickey, but he stayed frozen.
His eyes opened against the blindfold. Nothing came through the cloth, not a single spot of light. Just blackness. Tiny gasps began to escape him, short, strangled breaths that didn’t give his brain nearly enough oxygen.
He could hear Kurt above him, whispering filthy words that on a normal day would have been enough to make him come in seconds. Not this time. Not now. Not when his brain wasn’t getting enough oxygen and his head was starting to feel light. Not when the backs of his eyes began to sting.
Not when the memory of it started to replay across his blackened vision like a fucking movie.
He smirked, following Mrs. Keller into her bedroom. He was already shirtless, pants undone and cock hard as he watched her put her naked ass on display while she reached for the cuffs he figured her husband had never seen.
She was kinky, hadn’t tried to hide it. He liked that about her. It made her sexy, this small and sensual woman that had more kinky shit than Santana Lopez.
And that was saying something.
“Your turn,” she said, cuffs twirling around her finger as he stripped out of his jeans and climbed onto the bed. It wasn’t the first time he’d let her cuff him and to be honest, he kind of liked it. Straining against the restraints as she rode him, handing over the control. It was fucking hot.
“We’re going to try something a little different this time,” she purred, holding up a silk blindfold. He smirked, let her tie it around his head, and leaned back.
She was sliding a condom over his dick in seconds and on him even faster. Fast and hard this time. She always seemed to know when they had to rush things. Had to make sure he was out before her husband got home.
Moans ripped through both of them as she moved, his hips bucking against her and driving himself further inside.
Then she stopped.
He groaned in protest as she got off, voice catching when a hand cupped his cheek.
A hand that was too big to be Mrs. Keller’s.
A guy’s hand.
“Been having fun fucking my wife?”
Mr. Keller.
Oh, shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
Mr. Keller chuckled, his hand closing around his cock and giving it a painful tug. Puck cried out, suddenly soft as the sexiness of this went from high to getthefuckoffme.
“She says you’re great.”
What?!
Puck pulled against the cuffs, but they didn’t budge, special order leather unrelenting as he fought.
“Look,” he said, nerves eating at him, “just untie me and-”
“Not before I get my turn.”
OhGodfuckingno.
The blood drained from Puck’s face and he stopped fighting the restraints as those words echoed in his head. No. No. No. No. NO. Not happening. Nothing doing. He wasn’t gay. There was no way in hell that he was going to let-
Then lips that he knew weren’t Mrs. Keller’s were on his and a tongue forced his mouth open.
Kurt’s fingers, cold and slick, pushed inside of him and he tensed, body shaking. His mind screamed at Kurt to stop, but the words never made it to his vocal chords. Fingers brushed his prostate and his body reacted, cock jumping.
“Stop,” he whispered in a beg, fighting the bonds as Mr. Keller’s fingers pulled out of his ass. He sighed, relieved for all of a second.
And then there was a cock inside him.
Stretching him.
Tearing him apart.
Kurt eased himself in and some part of Puck’s mind knew that dominant or not, Kurt was being gentle with him, easing him into what he thought was Puck’s first time getting fucked.
It didn’t feel gentle, though. Puck couldn’t even feel Kurt.
All he could feel was Mr. Keller, thrusting too hard and too fast. Tears gathered in his eyes, soaking the silk of the blindfold.
Pain.
So much pain.
“Stop...”
---
Kurt froze mid-thrust.
“Stop...”
The word was whispered, still as soft as it had been the first time. Barely audible. Choked. His eyes flew open, no longer closed in pleasure, and he saw them.
The darker patches on the black blindfold.
The spots of blood on Puck’s bottom lip from where he’d bitten straight through.
And for the first time since he started this, it clicked in his mind that this was bad. That Puck wasn’t tense in nervousness. That Puck’s gasps hadn’t been in pleasure.
He pulled out as carefully as he could, hating himself every second and even more as Puck gave a strangled whimper. The second he was free, his hands were tearing the blindfold off.
Puck’s tears came faster as the shock of the light hit his eyes and he fought the restraints, small sobs that seemed to echo in Kurt’s mind as he scrambled to undo the bonds. The click of the cuffs releasing almost made him sob in relief.
His own hands shook as he put a hand on Puck’s shoulder and guilty tears flooded his vision at the recoil.
Stupid. So stupid. How could he not have been able to tell that...
What had he done?
Rape.
A voice in the back of his mind screamed it and Kurt felt the nausea rise in him. He wanted to hide, wanted to run away and just throw up, but...he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave Puck.
But how could he stay? How could he stay when he’d...
Puck let out an ugly noise, something between a sob and a gag, and Kurt shook his head, forcing away any thought of leaving. He couldn’t walk away. Not when Puck needed him.
This time, he didn’t let Puck withdraw. He wrapped his arms around him, tight, and let Puck bury his face in his neck as he lost himself in what Kurt was almost certain was a panic attack. The sobbing gags kept coming, acting like a vice grip on Kurt’s chest and squeezing out even more tears.
“Come stop your crying.”
The lyrics came without a thought, a reflex. His dad had sung it to him when he was little (horribly off-key, but it was the thought that counted), just after his mom died. It had been his favorite movie back then and the song...it was the only thing that could calm him down.
“It will be all right. Just take my hand,” his hand wrapped around the top of Puck’s, “Hold it tight.”
He kept singing, voice cracking, until Puck had calmed, lying tired and defeated against his chest.
They sat there together for a long while, neither saying a word. Kurt didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know if by opening his mouth, he’d just make things worse.
He’d raped Puck.
The thought alone made him sick and made tears return to his eyes.
He didn’t deserve to be holding Puck right now. Not after what he’d done. Puck should be fighting him, screaming, calling the cops, something. Something that wasn’t just lying there like he hadn’t just-
“It wasn’t you.”
The words were whispered, barely a decibel over the level that Puck had used in his pleas to stop, but they rang in Kurt’s head like a bell.
Kurt wished those words made him feel better, but they didn’t. All they did was bring another soul-crushing weight onto his chest because it was his stupid attempt to be sexy and spontaneous that had caused this.
---
Puck rose from his spot on Kurt’s chest, sitting on his haunches as the sheets moved with him. He tugged them a bit closer without a thought.
His throat hurt and his nose felt like it was still running. That telltale burn in his ass was there, but nowhere near the tearing pain that had remained after Mr. Keller had finished. He sniffed, fists clutching the blanket as he pointedly didn’t look at Kurt.
“I...” The words got stuck in his throat, refusing to reach his vocal cords. He bit his lip for a moment, only realizing now that he’d bitten through. He swallowed thickly. “I...it wasn’t you.”
It was stupid. He’d already said that, but...the other words wouldn’t come.
How the hell was he supposed to tell Kurt what had happened?
He’d tried. He really had. He knew he’d frozen when Kurt put the blindfold on. No one...he hadn’t let anyone blindfold him since that day. Cuffs he dealt with fine. It was not being able to see, not being able to anticipate what was going to happen next. Blindfolds left him vulnerable.
He’d tried to adjust to it, to remind himself that it was Kurt, but the memory had come too fast and...
“It wasn’t you.”
---
“Then what?” Kurt asked softly when Puck repeated himself for a third time. “If it wasn’t me...” he trailed off, a frown marring his face before his mouth fell slack and his face paled. “I...Puck...was it...”
He never finished the sentence. Puck’s tightened grip on the blanket and the shame on his face were answer enough and a soft sob escaped him.
It wasn’t him.
It was someone else.
Somewhere inside him, it hurt, this realization that someone had hurt Puck, that Puck hadn’t told him. He’d said that Kurt was the first guy he’d had sex with.
A voice in his head quipped darkly that he probably was the first guy that was consensual.
Puck opened his mouth again, probably to try and say something about it, but Kurt just shook his head.
“It’s okay,” he said and hoped that Puck understood everything he meant behind it.
You don’t have to say anything.
Tell me when you’re ready.
This doesn’t change anything.
He took Puck’s hand, fingers laced together, and squeezed.
I love you.
The End