Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/781674. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con, Underage Category: F/M, M/M Fandom: Glee Relationship: Burt_Hummel/Quinn_Fabray, Burt_Hummel/Kurt_Hummel, Blaine_Anderson/Kurt Hummel Character: Burt_Hummel, Quinn_Fabray, Kurt_Hummel, Blaine_Anderson, David_Karofsky Additional Tags: dubcon, Incest, Prostitution, Humiliation, Degradation, Watersports, mindgames, Animal_Play, Painplay, Object_Insertion, Sexual_Assault Stats: Published: 2013-05-02 Updated: 2017-09-23 Chapters: 18/? Words: 11983 ****** As Needed ****** by merkintosh Summary When Carole kicks Quinn out after finding out Finn isn't the father of her baby, Quinn chooses to move in with the Hummels instead of the Puckermans. Notes These were individual commentfic written on glee_anon over a year or so ago. ***** Chapter 1 ***** Burt set her up in the sewing room. There was a fold-up couch in the corner with a crocheted afghan over it that Burt quickly took off and crumpled in his hands. "Closet's full of sewing stuff," he said gruffly, "Fabric, supplies, stuff like that. But you can probably get a few of your things inside." Quinn figured she could get everything she had now in there. She nodded and hid under her hair, her hands twisting on the handles of her suitcase. Burt sighed and took his cap off, rubbed a hand on his bald head. "Look, things are strained between me and Carole as it is; I don't want you staying here to hurt that too, got it? Now I'm sorry that boy who's the real daddy is a fool, but we all make choices in life and sometimes they don't work out. You'll just have to find a way to untangle this on your own. I can't help you do that." Quinn bit her lip and tried not to cry again, her eyes already itchy and red from the last time. Burt scratched his neck. "I'm doing this for Kurt mainly. He was worried about you, said you were a good kid," Quinn flinched. "He's a bit naive still. It's hard for me to get, but he sees the best in everyone. Doesn't mean that I do. Doesn't mean that I'm that great, even if he seems to think so." Later that night, when Burt had her shirt off and was rolling her sore nipples with his rough callused fingers, Quinn closed her eyes and let him because that was the deal she'd made. This time, she was going to see things through all the way to the end and try to get her life back on track. He muttered something about getting her new bras. Her old ones were too small, the cups cutting into her skin when she breathed. The heavy metal frame of the couch underneath the thin mattress creaked with every heavy thrust as he fucked her; her cunt embarrassingly wet as he used her, his eyes staring straight at the wall above her head. He had one still on her breast and it ached, it was so swollen, as he gripped her there. The other was rubbing her clit, making her stomach clench and twist until suddenly she was coming hard enough to make her thighs shake and pull a sharp "Oh" from her even though he told her to be as quiet as possible. She hadn't had an orgasm when she did it with Puck. After he pulled up his boxers and left, a hand idly scratching his gut, Quinn lay there on the scratchy couch. Her legs were still spread, his come sitting inside her futilely. She fingered herself, slipping fingers inside where she was hot and swollen and tried not to squirm. Her other hand rested on her bloated stomach. ***** Chapter 2 ***** She woke up when she felt someone pulling down her pajama pants. Eyes open, Quinn looked down and saw Burt push two of his fingers inside her, her cunt still wet from last night. He didn't look up once, his eyes glaring at her belly button like it had a secret to tell. Quinn gasped when he hooked his fingers, the pads of his fingertips rubbing against her vaginal wall and making her squirm. Burt used his free hand to grab one of hers. He pressed it against her clit and muttered out, "Rub it," and didn't let go of her wrist until she did. He never saw her shaking her head, her lips twisted as his thick fingers thrust inside her, making a wet sucking sound that was too loud for this early in the morning. Quinn looked down through the tangles in her hair and saw him pull out for a second, his fingers glistening and foamy, before adding a third finger that stretched her enough to burn. She tried to rub herself, small circles around the swollen flesh but it hurt when she did it. She was pressing against her clitoral hood with her palm when she felt herself coming, clenched around his fingers that kept thrusting even while she convulsed with her orgasm. He kept on fucking her even after her body calmed down and her cunt was so sensitive that she was moaning and desperately trying to buck her hips until his fingers were gone. He pulled out with a wet noise and let his hand drop to her stomach, making it sticky, before standing up. She could see his erection push against the fly of his boxers. She gestured widely at his groin. "Should I-" She started to ask, her voice slow and thick. "It's Saturday," Burt said, interrupting her, "Kurt's making French Toast." He walked out of the room. It took her twenty minutes to clean up and put on new clothes--a light pink babydoll dress that strained around her middle and made her look cheap, but everything she wore nowadays did. Burt was already seated at the kitchen table, a half-eaten stack of French Toast in front of him, while Kurt set down another plate and smiled at her quickly before reaching over and taking his father's cap off his head. Burt half-heartedly reached to take it back but Kurt danced away laughing and put the hat on a peg by the door. Quinn sat down across from Burt and tried to smile when he gestured for her to eat up. ***** Chapter 3 ***** Quinn didn't really hang out with Kurt except when Burt was around. They'd sit together down in the living watching a sporting event sometimes--Quinn down at the far end of the couch, hugging the armrest, while Kurt tried to meld into Burt's side. Last weekend it had been some sort of car race that Burt was pretty excited about. He had an arm around Kurt's shoulder and would squeeze him whenever the announcer got excited about something. Sometimes, his fingers would brush against Quinn's neck when his arm rested against the back of the couch. Most of the time, Quinn kept to herself in the sewing room and did her homework. It wasn't like Kurt was mean to her; they simply didn't have enough in common to move past the barrier school had put between them. Quinn knew that she had been cruel to Kurt before she got pregnant and she had never apologized. She didn't know if they'd ever move past that. "I know what you're doing," Kurt said from the door to the sewing room one night. It startled Quinn, and her pencil skittered across her Spanish homework. "I'm sorry?" She asked, her fear in her throat. She turned around to look at him. "You're punishing yourself," he said, his fingers idly playing with the door handle as he leaned against the door frame. His chin was tilted up and he bit his lip while she processed what he had said. Quinn didn't know how to look haughty and strong while her stomach was bloated and fat in front of her. "I don't understand." "My dad probably told you that he asked you to stay here because I asked him to," Kurt said. "That's not true. I felt sorry for you because of your problems, but I never asked that. We're not friends." "That's true," Quinn said. Kurt looked away from her. "He's a good man," Kurt said. "He is," She said. Burt's come sat heavy in her stomach from when he fucked her face after getting home from work. "But when he wants something, he takes it," Kurt said. His hands clenched into fists and his mouth went tight. Quinn frowned and wondered. Kurt's face lightened all at once in a smooth practiced move as he purposefully relaxed his hands. "We could be friends," he said, his voice free of intonation or question. Quinn nodded and smiled at him. She doubted anything would come of this. ***** Chapter 4 ***** There were nights where Quinn couldn't control herself. She hadn't really had control of anything since getting pregnant, but some nights it was like her body was sending her a giant 'fuck you' for being an incredible idiot. She could feel the throbbing between her legs no matter what she did to try and ignore it. Her labia were so swollen it was painful and nothing she did relieved her arousal. Even the slightest shift of her legs on the futon made her ache. Quinn got up and walked down the hall to Burt's room. He woke up even though her knock had been so quiet, she had barely heard it himself. "What?" he said, his voice rough with sleep and something dark and angry. Quinn wanted to shrink back even as her nipples tightened and her clit throbbed. She knew she looked stupid standing in front of him in a ratty old too big shirt and tried to hide behind her hair. Burt had his hand in his sleep pants and was obviously scratching himself in his half awake stupor. He snorted. "Come on," he said, his head tilting towards the sewing room. "Don't want you in my room. It's not right." Quinn was walking funny to try and lessen the throbbing between her legs. Burt reached the room well before she did and was sitting on the futon bed, his pants pushed down to his knees as his cock rose up flushed and erect from his groin. He looked at her and said nothing as she quietly shut the door. She walked up to him and fussed with the hem of her sleepshirt, wondering if she should take it off. He just huffed and reached underneath it, his thick fingers pressing against her swollen sex immediately. Quinn sucked in air between her teeth and rolled her hips to meet his hand. He hummed and pinched her labia between his fingernails while she squirmed. "You're practically dripping for it, aren't you?" he asked in a low murmur. "Well, I'm worn out and I have to get up early so you're going to have to do the work yourself if you want it that bad." His fingers dropped from her slit instantly and he wiped his hand off on his thigh. Quinn bit her lip and looked down at his dick, her hands on the edge of her shirt still. She moved to pull it up and over her head so he could play with her tits like he liked to do. "Don't bother," he said, his voice almost bored. Quinn dropped her shirt and left her hands on her thighs, unsure of what to do with them. Licking her lips, Quinn tried to straddle his lap but couldn't. Her stomach was too big now for her to do that while he was seated. She turned around and tried to peer under her stomach, in between her legs, as she lowered herself onto his dick. She ended up having to reach in between her legs with both hands--one for his dick and one to find her pussy and guide him there--before she could settle herself on top of him. Burt put his hands on her hips but did nothing as she ground herself on his cock, her whole body rolling on top of him as she hissed each time his shaft rubbed against her aching labia and the walls of her pussy. His thighs were tense, but his fingers were relaxed and tapping impatiently on her hipbones like she was a bother. Quinn was moaning continuously now as she fucked herself on him. She brought her hands up and groped her own tits like Burt usually did, her breasts swollen and heavy with the need he'd put in them, in her. She was so wet and open, his dick was sliding in and out of her loud enough she could hear the squish when their bodies met. Her toes curled around the carpet and she strained to get off. Burt grunted and gave one tiny thrust of his hips as he came, Quinn groaning as she fucked herself on him and hoped she got off before he lost his erection. "Goddammit, Quinn," Burt said grumpily before his hand reached down and his pinched her clit setting her off with a shout. Her body went tight as a board as she pushed up into his fingers and shuddered with a sharp, painful orgasm. By the time she was finished, his dick had shrunk and slipped out of her, her pussy contracting around nothing as she slumped on top of him. Burt pushed her to the side and got up, one hand already pulling up his pants, while she gasped and cupped her hands between her legs. His come was sliding between her fingers and she felt warm and content deep inside her belly. "Dumb pregnancy hormones." was all Burt said before he opened the door and left. ***** Chapter 5 ***** They had been sitting at the kitchen table, all three of them slouched over their breakfasts when Burt sat back in his chair, hand gripping his coffee mug tight, and said, "You should get a haircut." Quinn could feel his eyes burning into her. Her shoulders went up as she hunched around her cereal bowl. "You're such a pretty girl," Burt said. He reached out and ran his fingers through her long hair before tucking some behind her ear. "You shouldn't hide behind all this hair. Don't you think so, Kurt?" Kurt was watching the two of them with wide eyes. "Quinn has nice hair." Quinn pursed her lips and breathed in sharply through her nose. "I could wear my hair back more often," she said, "with braids or a ponytail." Last night, Burt had her put her hair back in a ponytail so he could see her face while she sucked him off as he watched the game. "Hmm," Burt said to that with a small sigh of disappointment. "That's true, I guess. Just thought you'd look nice with short hair, that's all." He reached out and gripped Kurt's upper arm in a light squeeze. Kurt stopped eating his toast and looked at Burt with a small smile before reaching up and covering his father's hand with his own. "Maybe Kurt could do it?" Quinn said in a small whisper before she ducked her head again. "Oh!" Kurt said excitedly before clapping a little. "Thank you, Quinn, I would be honored." Quinn looked up and saw both Kurt and Burt looking at her with big smiles. She smiled back when Burt reached out and squeezed her arm. ** Quinn sat down awkwardly in the stiff wooden chair, Kurt's hands gently holding her shoulders as she huffed and puffed into a sitting position. He quickly started running his fingers through her hair. "I was thinking we shouldn't go too drastic," Kurt said, "Maybe just to your shoulders or a little longer. Around here." He gathered her hair and held it up several inches. "Thank you," Quinn said softly. "Shoulder-length sounds great." Kurt hummed his approval and dropped her hair long enough to find his scissors. Quinn squirmed in her seat and tried to find a more comfortable position. "You're gonna need to sit still or else Kurt might accidentally cut your head off," Burt said from the living room. He was peering into the kitchen, but had yet to step inside. Quinn could hear Kurt protesting from behind her. Quinn felt the familiar heat rise in her belly. "The baby is sitting on my bladder and I can't get it to move," she said, her hands resting on her stomach as she squirmed some more. Burt hummed and nodded at her before looking at Kurt sternly. "I think you left your scissors in your room downstairs," he said. Kurt was looking into a drawer intently. "No, I'm pretty sure I left them up here in the kitchen after your last haircut." "Check downstairs, Kurt," Burt said. "But they're up here," Kurt said firmly. "Kurt," Burt said. Kurt looked up at his father. "Look downstairs and don't come up until I tell you to." Quinn froze in her chair and could barely breathe while Kurt stared at his father. He shut the drawer and left the room leaving a wide gap between him and his father. Quinn didn't move at all until Burt walked into the kitchen and pulled a chair out. He sat down directly in front of her, his elbows pressing into his thighs as he watched her squirm uncomfortably in her chair. "The baby's getting big," he said. Quinn tried to smile and hummed her agreement. "Must be weird, having that big old stomach popped out in front of you," Burt said, his voice conversational. Quinn flushed with embarrassment as a hand absently rubbed against her stomach. "The obvious proof," he said. "Of. You know." The heat traveled from her face down her body until it sat in her cunt. "That I'm bad and a slut," she said quietly. "You're not bad," Burt said, his eyes serious and fierce as he looked at her. He reached out and touched her hand. "Just stupid." Burt sighed and leaned back. He lifted his cap and rubbed his head idly as he thought. "You need to relax and accept that you're stuck with us now," he said finally. "You should pee before Kurt gives you your haircut." Quinn nodded and readied herself to get back up. She had barely lifted off the seat when Burt hurried over and pushed her back down. "No, not like that." Quinn stared at him in confusion as he knelt down in front of her and pressed his hands on her stomach, his long, big fingers completely covering the bloated surface. "Pee," he said. Quinn took in a sharp breath through her nose before shaking her head wildly, "No," she said manically as Burt pressed against her stomach with his fingers. He reached down with one hand and pushed right above her groin, making her need to pee even more. "Stop it!" Burt kissed the top of her belly and kept pressing down with his hands until she groaned and squirmed in her seat. "You'll feel better," he said. "You're used to having damp panties by now." Quinn wanted to cry, it hurt so much. Burt reached down further and pressed his little finger against her clit through her panties, the rest of his hand still pressing against her bladder. It was the shock of pleasure that surprised her into letting go. She shuddered as hot liquid splashed inside her panties as he rubbed her belly in wide strokes like he was soothing a startled animal. ** Burt left her there with an admonishment not to move until Kurt finished with her. She hadn't peed a lot, she knew that, but it felt like she had soaked herself down to her knees. She sat as still as possible, able to hear every wet sound from her crotch as urine soaked into her skin and made her skin stick against her panties and thighs. She didn't know how Kurt could be oblivious to the acrid smell. He continued to chatter about glee club and their classes as he cut off half her hair while she smelled herself, her cunt throbbing and her chest tight with shame. When Kurt was finished, he leaned down and hugged her neck, his long arms wrapping around her shoulders as he leaned his head against hers. Quinn reached up and gripped his elbow. "Looks like you're sticking around," he said quietly into her hair. Quinn nodded sharply and felt her face go tight. "Thank you for letting me cut your hair; I know you didn't really want a haircut." Kurt left the kitchen quickly. ***** Chapter 6 ***** Quinn had helped Kurt make dinner for the first time. He had let her chop up the vegetables for the salad while he grilled the chicken. Burt sat at the kitchen table the entire time, his eyes only occasionally drifting to the paperwork he was supposed to be working on as he watched them cook. It was the same as they ate. Quinn could feel his eyes on her even though she kept her head down as much as possible, unable to hide under her hair anymore. He always looked at her so intensely, his eyes disappointed with her. It made her burn inside, killing her anger until she was nothing. "You got plans for next year?" Burt asked her, his hand cupping her shoulder to grab her attention. Quinn shrugged and shook her head. "You need to start thinking about afterward. I think you should finish high school, at least. You like school, right?" "Quinn's on the honor roll as often as I am," Kurt said lightly. Quinn looked up in time to see Burt look at Kurt pointedly until he looked down and started poking his food. "Quinn," Burt said, his tone sharp, "Are you planning on going to college?" "I guess," Quinn said quietly. Burt's hand was heavy on her shoulder, his fingers lightly tapping against the bone. That night, Burt caught her coming out of her room to pee around midnight and stopped her. He gripped her elbow and walked her downstairs heading towards the kitchen. She was afraid that they were going to go all the way down the basement but instead he directed her outside into the backyard. "Squat," he said once they were dead in the middle of the backyard, the grass dead and crunchy underneath her bare feet as she shivered in the cold. Quinn shook her head in disbelief as she tried to bend down without unbalancing herself and falling over. Burt sighed and put his hands on her elbows and went down with her until she was down, her large belly bulging out in front of her. He didn't even have to tell her what he wanted, he just reached down and pushed against her bladder and Quinn peed, urine splashing against her ankles as she swayed and groaned in pain from contorting herself like this. Her knees burned and she was cold all over. She contented herself with the fact that it was dark and the neighborhood was old enough that the trees were tall and wide. Quinn knew that she'd have done it in the middle on the day right on the street if Burt told her to. When she was done, Burt let go of her elbows causing her to tip over and crash onto her knees. He got up and walked back into the house while she worked to stand back up. By the time she got back inside, he was sitting in the living room a beer in hand as turned on the TV. Quinn tiptoed into the small downstairs bathroom and tried to wipe herself clean and wash her feet. Quinn stood in the entryway between the kitchen and living room and swayed with indecision. "You should go to college," Burt said before taking another swallow of his beer. "Get a degree before settling down and having children." It burned inside when she thought about how her life should have gone. "Come here," Burt said, waving the bottle in his hand at her. Quinn stepped into the living room and stood in front of him, her belly popped out almost in his face. "What do you want, Quinn?" Quinn looked down at him, his eyes heavy and mouth flat like they always were when he looked at her. She remembered this morning how he'd looked when talking to Kurt, how Kurt looked at him. How Kurt sometimes woke her up now by coming into the sewing room and rubbed at her forehead until she stopped frowning. "I want you to fuck me," she said. Burt hummed and finished his beer. "Well, I don't want to fuck you," he said, the words twisting in her brain when she heard them. "Please." "Go fuck yourself, you little shit," Burt said, taunting her. Quinn reached down for his zipper, her body dropping onto the coffee table when he slapped her hard on the thigh. She pulled her hands back and looked at him, devastated. "I love you," Quinn said, her voice scraped and deep. Burt barked out a laugh and leaned back on the couch, his hand reaching up to rub at his head. "Is that so?" he asked. Quinn nodded and wrapped her arms around her belly. "No, you don't. You don't love anything, you don't know how. Fuck." Burt put his foot up on the coffee table and let her rub her wet cunt against his heel, the entire time his eyes glaring at her. But he was smiling now. He had never smiled at her before like that. Quinn came with a heavy shudder and smiled back at him. ***** Chapter 7 ***** Burt took her to all of her appointments now. She had one scheduled for a sonogram today and he took off work early to take her. He covered her hand in both of his while the doctor moved the cold gel around on her stomach until they could see her baby jumping and pulsing around inside of her. When they doctor printed out the results, she could barely look at them, but Burt had taken them solemnly and kept them safe. On the way home from the doctor's office, Burt made her take off her bra and panties then took them through a drive thru to get some burgers for lunch. "Don't tell Kurt I'm eating this," he said before handing her a single and a bag of fries. She knew that the drive thru cashier had to be able to see how her tits sagged and splayed in opposite directors to surround her huge torso. She knew that her nipples were hard and poking through her shirt. Burt drove further down the road, getting onto the highway for a minute before getting off again and taking some backroads when it became obvious that traffic was getting heavy. Quinn focused on her burger--it had bacon on it--and fries and didn't realize the car had stopped until Burt pulled her food out of her hands. She looked over at him, his eyes squinting in the afternoon sun as he stared at her. "Got something I need you to do for me, Quinn." "What is it?" Quinn asked, her voice gentle like she was trying to soothe a startled horse. "Lift up your skirt," Burt said. Quinn stared at him before looking outside the car. They were in a neighborhood parked in front of a house she didn't recognize. "It's early yet, no one should be home around here. Pull your skirt up and show me your cunt." Quinn reached down and pulled her skirt up to her waist. She looked away at a point somewhere behind Burt's shoulder. She knew what she looked like down there only from memory, the soft brown hair in-between her legs, her labia most likely glistening and gaping open by now considering how hot and squirmy she felt. She felt Burt's hands grip her thighs and spread them wide before he dragged her down lower in the seat so her hips opened up. He didn't touch her cunt though; instead he reached up and grabbed her hand and forced her to let go of her skirt, the fabric fluttering to rest on top of her belly. He put some round things on her palm. "I called the doctor's office last night and talked to him," Burt said. "Told him about how you've been wetting yourself lately." Quinn's breath shuddered and she gripped the round objects tightly. "No," she started to say. "It's normal," Burt told her. "but he told me to get you these to tighten you up down there." "I don't need these," Quinn said, her voice weak. "I think I would know if you did, Missy," Burt said, his tone final. "We'll start with one. Now stick the ball inside you before whoever owns this house comes home." Quinn's breath came in gasps and she shook her head and tried to give Burt back the balls. Burt just looked at her until she quailed and pulled back her hand. Quinn reached down and around her stomach until she could roll the ball into place at her slit; the cool metal soothing her sex as it went. She tried to breathe out as she pushed it in, but couldn't help and tense and try to push it out. It was so wide and cold; it hurt going in. After she got past the widest part, it was like her cunt was swallowing it whole, her body snapping shut around it while the heavy weight of the second ball attached to it by a thin string sat in her hand. Burt grunted his satisfaction with her and reached down to rub her pussy, his fingers only tapping against the surface of the ball inside her. "Drop the damn balls and let them be," He said. Quinn let go and heard the soft thump as the ball outside of her hit the car seat. "Let's see if you can hold it in." Burt rubbed roughly against her clit until her hips thrust hard into the air, making her convulse around the damn ball inside her cunt until it hurt. He started up the car and drove back to the highway, his eyes never drifting over to look at her once as she shivered and concentrated on how full and uncomfortable her cunt was. Quinn forgot to pull down her skirt. ***** Chapter 8 ***** School was out for the summer and Quinn was no longer pregnant. Her mom had shown up at Regionals even and offered to let her back home. Quinn had thought about it; she could pretend nothing had happened and get back to her life as planned. In the end though she knew that she couldn't leave Burt. So she stayed at the Hummels' house. Burt and Kurt were okay with her decision. Burt had grunted and scratched his head while Kurt clapped and smiled at her. Things remained largely the same except that Burt didn't touch her anymore. At first, Quinn thought it was because she had just given birth; she knew her cunt looked like raw hamburger right now. But as July started to creep in, Quinn started to wonder if perhaps it was something more. Maybe now that she had admitted that she was in love with him, he knew the only thing that would hurt her the most is if he left her alone. Now that her pussy was healed and her stomach was shrinking, Quinn spent most of her nights awake on the futon in the sewing room flat on her back waiting for Burt to come in and fuck her. She was used to his cock inside her, her pussy throbbing for it and her tits aching. It had been months now since the last time. Quinn could barely breathe. Quinn stood up around eleven and walked softly down the hallway to the master bedroom. With a determination she had never felt before, she knocked on the door for the first time ever. "Come in," a soft voice said from inside. Quinn opened the door. It was Kurt. Kurt was sitting on the right side of the bed in a pair of cotton pajamas with a netbook in his lap. She was naked "Oh, Quinn! Did you need my dad? He's downstairs watching some game." "I. I-" Quinn stuttered out. She was so shocked she didn't even think to cover herself up. "Come sit with me and wait for him," Kurt said as he pat the bed beside him. He smiled softly at her. "I'm almost done with these bills." Quinn shivered and floated slowly onto the bed. Kurt was focused on the computer, mouse buttons clicking away as she tried to get comfortable. The scratchy comforter was irritating her skin. "Kurt, I didn't--" "You're sitting on Dad's side of the bed," Kurt said, interrupting her even though his eyes never left the computer screen. "He won't mind you sitting there. He is a bit particular about boundaries usually, but he's a bit soft on you now." Quinn froze in place her body going hot and cold in waves. Kurt shut the computer lid with a soft click. "We both like you very much, Quinn," he said, his fingers coming up to comb through her bangs. "You're a part of the family now." Quinn couldn't remember if the couch in the basement converted into a bed or not. Kurt tugged on her hair until she was pressed into his chest. "Do you like that, Quinn?" Quinn turned into Kurt's chest, her mouth dampening his shirt over his nipple while Kurt hugged her shoulders tight and dropped a kiss into her hair. "As soon as the game's over, Dad'll come upstairs and explain everything," Kurt said. Quinn nodded and squirmed closer into Kurt's embrace, her arms slipping around his waist. ***** Chapter 9 ***** Burt coming upstairs didn't really answer anything for Quinn. He walked in, pulled his flannel shirt out of his jeans and demanded that she get off the bed. Quinn scrambled over Kurt as he lifted his arms up out of the way so she could stand up, confused about what to do next. Burt was unbuttoning his jeans to let them drop to the floor when he looked at her, his eyes heavy and dark as he focused in on her bare knees and still stretched out torso, her saggy tits and screwed in shoulders. "You can sleep on the floor if you're going to stay." "Dad, really," Kurt started to say before Burt gave him a look. Kurt turned and shrugged apologetically at Quinn. She turned around and searched for something soft to lay on, spotting the plush rug underneath the TV stand. Burt climbed into bed, planting a kiss into Kurt's hair and falling into the pillows with a grunt as she curled up on the rug. Kurt gave him the remote and sighed when he switched it to the Discovery Channel. Quinn's fallen into a light doze when she hears the distinct sound of someone masturbating. She looks up and sees Kurt curled up on his side, staring at her as Burt huffs behind him, shoulder jerking quickly as he glares down at Kurt. He's muttering something, face pained as his movements shift the bed until he jerks once then twice before stiffening and jamming his face into the back of Kurt's shoulder. Quinn silently curls her fingers around a nipple, her other hand slipping down between her legs as Kurt silently licks Burt's palm clean, his face painfully blank. ***** Chapter 10 ***** Quinn learned to appreciate her little corner. Now that Kurt had his sewing room back, he was able to make her a nice blanket and two small pillows that didn't look out of place on the bed during the day yet kept her warm at night. He mentioned possibly making a small bedroll for her to roll out at night while he combed her hair in the morning before school only for Burt to laugh and suggest that he make her a doggy bed instead. Kurt frowned and said nothing back. Quinn didn't say anything when he pulled too hard at a tangle. Some nights, she slept in the bed with them. Those were the nights when Burt decided he wanted her pussy, his thick dick burrowing inside her as she lay flat on the bed, her legs spread wide enough that her knee crossed over on top of Kurt's thigh as he read a magazine. Burt was staring at Kurt; he ignored her completely even when she whined and gripped hard at his ass, the muscles flexing deeply there as he fucked her. She could hear the wet sucking noise from her cunt, the bed creaking as he got up from his elbows onto his hands. The space left between their bodies letting her look down and see how his small gut hang over her saggy abs, his dick a deep red and glistening whenever it poked out. "Kurt, look at me," Burt said, a little breathless. "Don't ignore me, sweetheart." "I am reading an article about Jean Paul Gaultier," Kurt said. Quinn wanted to laugh but was afraid Burt would kick her out of the bed, or worse, the room if she did. "I wish you had a cunt," Burt said. Kurt finally looked up at that, his eyes narrowed. "I dream about fucking your cunt." "Don't say that," Kurt said warningly, his hands wrinkling the pages of his magazine. Burt had his hips mashed against Quinn's, his pelvis rolling against hers until it hurt. Burt kept talking, his eyes going unfocused. "It's warm and tight, a little dry until I get it wet with my tongue. Not like this sloppy hole." "Don't talk about Quinn like that," Kurt said pleadingly. He was opening and shutting his magazine in between his hands. "Hold her leg up, get her knee near her shoulder," Burt said, "If I've got to fuck her pussy, it might as well be tight. At least it's always wet." Quinn bit her lip before saying, "I can hold my own leg." "I'm not going to participate in your weird sex games - " "Do it," Burt said. Kurt stared at him silently before finally closing his magazine for good and putting it on the end table. His hands were soft and slightly cold against the meat of her thigh. It really was better like this, her pussy growing tighter with the stretch and soon Quinn was shivering with orgasm, her toes spasming against Kurt's forearm. Her hearing was going in and out and Burt sounded so far away. "I wish it was just you and me, sweetheart." When Burt left to wash his dick in the bathroom, Quinn wallowed in the center of the bed where she was luckily going to sleep tonight. She liked being squeezed in between the two of them, her oozy cunt smeared with Burt's come until it dried and became too itchy to ignore. Kurt was still next to her, looking at his hands. "Why doesn't he fuck you?" She asked. She was still too curious for her own good. "Because anal sex is for whores," Kurt said, his voice cold and robotic, like he was reciting something. ***** Chapter 11 ***** Quinn curled up in her nest, her toes brushing against the carpet where they peeked out from her blankets and looked over at the bed. Kurt was on his back, legs spread with his knees up and a bored expression on his face, as Burt settled on top of him. The bed depressed with a groan as he smothered Kurt with his bulk, the slight bulge of his stomach spreading across Kurt's thin frame. Quinn wondered if it looked like that when Burt was fucking her, her cunt starting to throb as she imagined herself where Kurt was. She knew Burt was hard, his dick slick and dark as it slapped against his leg before he'd covered Kurt. He was rearranging Kurt's legs now, drawing his knees higher until they were pressed against his ribs, pushing Kurt higher on the bed until their heads were dangerously close to the headboard. With a grunt, Burt started moving, his body pressing against Kurt as he sought out his pleasure. Kurt had his eyes shut tight, his teeth bared. Quinn squirmed a hand in between her clenched thighs and let her fingers slide over her slick lips as she watched and imagined it was her on the bed; Kurt the one on the floor waiting his turn as Burt looked at her with adoration and the knowledge of his complete possession of her body. Instead, she let the creak of the bed frame set the rhythm for her fingers. ***** Chapter 12 ***** Quinn was kneeling in front of the couch, rubbing Burt's crotch while he watched the hockey game. He was only half-hard, the rough denim of the jeans making it difficult for Quinn to work his dick like she wanted to but she wasn't allowed to pull him out until half-time. "Aw, come on!" Burt said, rising up out of his seat fast enough that Quinn tumbled back onto her bare ass. "You alright, Quinn?" Kurt asked mildly from his chair. He was hemming a pair of pants. Quinn nodded and pushed her hair out of her face before getting back on her knees with a quiet hiss. They were getting red. She reached out for Burt's crotch again, making him grunt. He slapped her hand away. "Please," Quinn said, her fingers curling as she pulled back her hands and put them on her thighs. Burt took a pull from his beer and leaned back on the couch, his hand reaching down into his pants. "So fucking needy." Quinn ducked her head and brought her hands up to touch her flat stomach. She was hollow inside, her ab muscles hard again, but the skin stretched and wrinkly. "Kiss my feet," Burt said. When Quinn looked up, he was looking at her, his eyes hard and dark. Quinn tried to smile as she leaned down, getting onto her hands and knees at his feet. She looked over quickly at Kurt, who was staring at the television like he actually gave a shit about the game. After half-time, Burt let her sit on his lap for the rest of the game. She straddled him, her hands on his thighs for balance as she worked her wet cunt on his dick. He whispered in her ear, "So fucking needy, aren't you? What else do you need, sweetheart? Maybe two dicks instead of one?" Quinn gasped and looked over at Kurt until Burt pinched her arm hard. "Don't be stupid, you little idiot. Like I couldn't find a pack of men willing to stick themselves in your fucked out hole. Would you like that?" Quinn shook her head and closed her eyes as she continued to bounce up and down on his lap. Burt pushed her over until she was bent in half and slapped her hip. "Kurt, add condoms to the shopping list," Burt said. Quinn could feel his fingers pressing idly against her asshole. ***** Chapter 13 ***** "Morning, Quinn," Kurt said softly from where he was half-buried under the covers. Burt was half on top of him, a leg thrown over his hips, still sound asleep. Quinn smiled and stretched, her back arching and her shoulders digging into the hardwood floor. She stood up and stretched again, her hands high in the air, before relaxing and moving slowly to fold up her thin blanket. She hid the blanket away with her pillow behind the bookcase. Sighing, Quinn sat down cross-legged and slouched, her fingers idly tapping against the bare skin of her thighs. "School starts next week," Kurt said. "Junior year. You have any plans?" He was trying to squirm out of the bed but even in sleep Burt wouldn't let go. "I'm going to get back on the Cheerios," Quinn said. She tilted her head and let her hair drift over her face. "What about you?" Kurt somehow managed to shrug while laying down. "Get good grades, steal a solo out of Rachel's hands, get by." "You can do better than that," Quinn said. "Much better. How about you and I destroy Rachel and then you can have all the solos?" Kurt laughed and finally slipped off the bed, falling to his hands and knees on the floor. "Sure, Quinn. Let's do that. Anything else? Do you want to be Prom King and Queen too?" Burt snorted and rolled over onto his back. Kurt hunched down; Quinn leaned back on her hands and breathed in deep. "Get up from the floor, Kurt, you're not an animal, and give me a kiss." Kurt always gave chaste kisses in the morning. His mouth shut and his nose wrinkling. "I need to shower." Burt slapped him on the ass as he walked away. Burt grunted and rolled his head to the side, one eye opened and looking at Quinn. "Quit fucking around." Quinn scurried to stand up. She walked slowly towards the bed, one foot in front of the other like the girls on the model shows she watched with Kurt, as Burt chuckled at her. "Look out, hot shit coming through." Quinn knelt on the bed, her body flushed with embarrassment. "I was just--" she started to say before Burt waved her off, his other hand reaching out to grip her breast. "Do you want." Burt raised an eyebrow and watched her squirm. "I mean. There's still milk," she said, voice falling quiet with each new word. Burt narrowed his eyes, his thick fingers idly tapping against her breast like he could hear it sloshing around inside. It made Quinn shudder inside and want to take back every stupid word she'd just said. "What do you want, Quinn?" Burt asked. Quinn shrugged and tried to push her chest forward. Burt rolled his eyes. "For someone so fucking needy, you can't even manage to string a sentence together. Tell me." Quinn whined and reached down to pinch her clit, "I love you," she said. Burt poked her in the side hard enough to make her grunt. "Stop it." "I want you in my ass," She finally managed to get out, her fingers rolling her clit even as her own body fought her off. "I want your dick in my ass." Burt smiled at her. "Now you're talking." "Like a whore," Quinn said, her eyes closing. She just knew he should be looking at her with approval by now. "Please." ***** Chapter 14 ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Quinn comes home Thursday with her old Cheerio uniform in an archival-safe box. She takes it to the sewing room and puts it on, amazed at how it actually feels looser than it did last year. Junior year and things are already starting out perfectly. She tugs on the short hair behind her ear and practices her smile before heading back downstairs. Burt and Kurt are sitting together on the couch, Kurt with his hand curled easily around Burt's neck as he whispers into his ear. They both turn to look at her when she hits the creaky floorboard near the kitchen. Kurt smiles wide and turns toward her, clapping with happiness. "Oh, look at you! You look so great, Quinn!" Burt is as inscrutable as ever and it makes Quinn fidget. He grunts and gestures for her to come over. Kurt's instantly fussing with the hem of her skirt. He's saying something about the fit and starting a headband trend, but Quinn can't concentrate. Burt is reaching out, his palm covering Kurt's mouth to muffle him as his other hand tugs at her wrist, pulling her into him. Quinn shudders as he reels them both in for a messy group hug, his thick arms wrapped around their shoulders as he rests his head on her hair. Quinn gasps with shock when he kisses to top of her head. "Got myself two pretty little peacocks, don't I?" he says, his voice rough and low. Quinn closes her eyes and fights against the tightness in her chest as Burt grunts and pushes her off his chest over to his side. His hand is on her breast, kneading the heavy meat of her tit deep enough to bruise, as he squeezes her in close. She opens her eyes just in time to see him duck down to kiss Kurt hard on the mouth. Kurt's so happy, he smiles into the kiss. "Go make dinner," Burt says. Kurt hums then leans over Burt to kiss Quinn on the forehead, his smile wide and beatific as he scrambles off the couch into the kitchen. As soon as Kurt turns the corner, Burt's got both hands on her breasts. He bears down on her, pushing her flat on the couch with his big body. Quinn tries to spread her legs, but his thighs have her trapped. "Trying to get back to the beginning, hm." Burt says, his voice taunting. He pulling at her breasts now, unable to find her nipples under the thick polyester. "Pretend nothing happened?" "Of course not. I can't," Quinn says, her breath catching. She pushes up her hips to rub against his erection. "I need a scholarship to get into college now that my dad's out of the picture. There's a good program in Kentucky." Burt smiles and it's terrible. "You're an awful liar, little girl." "I love you," Quinn says. "No, you don't," Burt says back. "I love Kurt," Quinn says, voice as coy as she can manage these days. "You better," Burt says. He drops all of his weight on top of her, smashing her into the scratchy couch until all she breathe is grease and denim. By the time he lifts up, she's desperately clawing at his shoulders, and still is before he crushes her mouth under his. It feels weird to be making out on a couch like she's an innocent kid. Burt's tongue is slick and huge in her mouth. Quinn opens up and lets him in as much as she can. He pulls back and says, "You're keeping this uniform on for the rest of the day. I'm going to fuck your throat and come on your face, pretty girl." Quinn smiles, her eyes shuttering closed. Chapter End Notes This is all I have written for this universe! I may come back to it at times but I wouldn't hold my breath. Enjoy. ***** Chapter 15 ***** Quinn is in AP Calc when they tell her that Burt has had a heart attack. She sits in the back of Mr. Schuester's car with Kurt, her hands gripping his wrist tight enough to keep him from falling down into the footwell from shock. He looks like he's about to puke. Quinn doesn't feel much better. They're finally let into Burt's room and the scent of hospital, the sight of him attached to all those machines, his mouth slack and eyes closed is enough to send Quinn into the bathroom. She throws up twice, her knees ringing from hitting the floor so quickly. But she gets up as fast as she can, splashes her face with water, and readjusts her headband while staring hard into the mirror to make sure she doesn't cry. She steps out of the bathroom with her head held high and stands behind Kurt as he sits in a shitty chair and holds Burt's hand. When the nursing staff finally kick them out, they take a taxi home. Kurt's still in a daze, eyes glassy and red-rimmed, fingers fidgeting through the air trying to find something to hold onto. Quinn pulls on his wrist and takes him upstairs to bed. He sits there silently while Quinn strips off her cheerleading uniform and pulls her bedroll out from next to the TV stand. “Sleep on the bed,” Kurt says. Quinn looks over her shoulder at him and how he's slumped down, still fully clothed. She walks over and sits next to him, letting him drop his head into her neck. She works at unbuttoning his shirt without disturbing him, letting her throat grow wet as he finally lets go. Quinn can't stand the idea of sleeping in Burt's spot on the bed. She sticks to the middle as much as she can and is relieved when Kurt curls around her tightly, pulling her practically on top of him. She keeps a hand in his hair as he squeezes her waist, his nose jammed into her collarbone. It's not a comfortable position, but they both sleep. School sucks the next day and things don't get better at the hospital either. They sleep curled around each other again, this time Quinn has her face crammed into Kurt's chest as she cries; thick, fat, stupid tears she can't stop anymore. The next day, school is still rough and Quinn considers skipping for a couple days until she doesn't want to punch anyone in the face anymore. She knows that it would be best if Kurt joined her, but doesn't decide to actually do it until the glee girls' prayer circle makes Kurt implode. Quinn has to drag Kurt out of the hospital room that night. She takes the keys to the SUV from him and drives home slowly, hoping the ride will give him time to collect himself. When they get home, Kurt starts tearing off his coat and hat in the kitchen and kicks the kitchen table. Quinn can only stand in the doorway, her eyes wide and fingers gripping her hair as he goes off. He's slamming open the cabinets, face red with exertion and it's frightening yet beautiful all at once. Quinn never realized that Kurt could sound like Burt if he wanted to. When he grunts after a frying pan tips onto his hand, she gets weak in the knees. It takes a half hour for Kurt to calm down and he spends two hours after that baking cookies while Quinn sits at the kitchen table and stirs cookie dough. That night, Kurt sleeps in a small ball while Quinn tries to curl around him. Staying home for the next couple days helps. Kurt is cleaning everything in sight and Quinn tries to help at first only to get rebuffed after vacuuming wrong. It's stupid but it's been days since Burt's heart attack and the shock has worn off only to leave Quinn feeling hollow and restless. After Kurt stomps off to vacuum the living room carpet for the third time in two days, Quinn runs outside into the backyard and drops onto the grass. She lays down on her back and spreads her legs and wets herself. The acrid smell satisfies something weak and pathetic inside her gut as urine soaks the gusset of her panties and slides down the crack of her ass. It's easier to cry like this, knowing that this would have been good and pleasurable if only Burt was kneeling next to her, hands on her bladder. She stays there for a half an hour and breathes. Evenings are spent in Burt's hospital room, hoping for some sort of change in status. It's hard to see him so diminished. When Kurt leaves to go to the bathroom, Quinn takes Burt's hand and kisses his fingers. She puts his ring finger in her mouth and licks across the knuckle while staring at his face until she hears the bathroom door open. Still no change. On Monday, they both go back to school. Burt's been in the hospital a week and that entire time, Quinn has been numb to her body. When her clit starts to throb in the middle of APUSH, she's stunned at first. It's swollen and pulsing with blood, engorged to the point of pain. When it would get like this before, Burt would sometimes spread her out and pinch the hood away from her clit until she kicked out in pain. Sometimes, he'd lick and suck on it until she was a shivering slick mess, her entire mind inside her needy cunt. Quinn pulls her chair away from the desk and drops the heavy textbook onto her lap, grinding the spine over her clit as the teacher drones on about the Silver Party. When class ends, she stands up and pretends like she needs to organize her notes as she digs the corner of the desk into her cunt and lets it scrape her uniform skirt across the bulging head of her clit. The rest of the day, she works her clit over and over on every desk, every textbook, on anything hard, working it raw and red, but nothing helps. She heads to the hospital with Kurt and immediately heads into the bathroom, where she pulls down her panties and pinches her clit between her fingernails until she's crying. It goes down eventually. When they get home that night, Kurt takes her by the hand and pulls her upstairs. She's tired too, she gets it, and strips down sighing with relief when she takes off her bra. “Quinn,” he says, his voice scratchy and low as he undresses completely. He's thinner. He lays flat on the bed and pulls her on top of him. “Kurt, I--” Quinn starts to say. Kurt has a hand in her hair and he's petting her, hand soft and gentle. His penis is limp against her thigh. “I hate my dad,” he says quietly, a secret. Quinn holds her breath. “I hate how he treats you.” She lets her fingers pull on the bedsheets and doesn't say a word. Kurt wraps both arms around her shoulders and hugs her close. “I love him so much, Quinn, I can't lose him.” “I love him too,” Quinn says. “I love both of you.” Kurt shakes his head and hugs her closer, her legs sliding around to straddle his hips. They fall asleep. The next day, Kurt reaches for her with his free hand when he tells his dad the same thing. They're both there when he wakes up. ***** Chapter 16 ***** Burt comes home and he lives on the couch. Kurt made it into a soft, fluffy nest with blankets and pillows and magazines and three remote controls and if Burt so much as twitches an ankle, Kurt is right there berating him for even thinking of moving. Quinn would laugh but she knows just how Kurt feels. Burt's home. His face is sunken and sallow, eyes baggy, mouth drooping. He needs a walker to go to the bathroom and pee, his pulse checked multiple times a day, and has to swallow a rainbow of pills throughout. The doctors and nutritionist gave them a book's worth of papers when they left the hospital, including a diet sheet that Kurt studies daily with the fanaticism of a cultist. He makes organic soups and free trade tea and serves them in light delicate china, his hands hovering and following as Burt eats. Burt looks at Kurt like his world is ending. Quinn sits in the forgotten club chair in the corner of the living room and watches them both while worrying her lower lip between her teeth. When Kurt leaves the room to pee, she moves to sit next to Burt. She puts her hand on his thigh and squeezes, tries not to think about whether it's thinner or not.  "I'm not planning on getting it up anytime soon, Quinn," He says gruffly, hand shaking as he tries to eat more soup. Quinn shrugs and keeps her hand on his thigh until she can hear the toilet flush. At night, she still sleeps in a pile with Kurt in Burt's bedroom. He mumbles secrets into her hair now, about how he's going to move into the sewing room soon. During the day, there's school and glee club and cheerleading practice. There's a new boy, Sam. He's cute and blond and Kurt sneaks looks at him like he's trying to be subtle but everyone knows. What does surprise her is how quickly Kurt manages to convince him to be his duet partner for the dumb competition.  When they go to bed, Kurt spends a half hour going on about Sam's hair.  Kurt comes home from school angry because Finn told him he couldn't duet with Sam. He's pale with anger as he goes on and on about it and practically throws soup at Burt on the couch. Quinn curls into the club chair with her legs up on the seat and plays with the hem of her cheerleading skirt. "It's so unfair, Dad," Kurt says as he stuffs a napkin into the collar of Burt's shirt. Burt grunts and starts to eat his soup. "Right?" "What do you want me to say, Kurt?" Burt says quietly in between bites. "What do you want from this boy? Do you want to fuck him?" Kurt looks shocked. "Is that what this is about? Are you mad because you want to seduce him and Finn's figured you out?" Burt is practically chewing on the spoon and Kurt has leaned back on the couch, his head shaking in denial. "I'll do it for you, Kurt," Quinn says, she bites her lip to hide her grin. Burt has turned to look at her with fire in his eyes. "Finn won't know then. I'll sing with him and afterwards take him here." "Quinn, no--" "I'll get him naked and hard for you and blindfold him. Spread him out on the bed," She's really getting hot now, her legs open and spread across the arms of the chair. "And then  you can come in and and and." "Put his puny teenage dick in your little hole," Burt says, finishing the sentence for her. He's put the soup down and is leaning into Kurt, forcing him to stay on the couch. "You can pretend it's gonna stretch you out, leave you gaping and satisfied, his little come squirts trying to drip out of your hungry ass. Is that what you want, Kurt? You want Quinnie's help?" Kurt's crying now, "No!" "You want his little dick in you, slut?" Burt's gesturing at her to move to the couch. Quinn practically skips over, lets his hand grip her hip and draw her in to lean in to his free side. "Is this the new and improved Kurt? A slutty piggie for tiny teenage boy dick?" Kurt shakes his head in denial, mute as Burt grips his shoulders and drags him into a painful hug. Kurt sobs and hugs back, head buried in Burt's shoulder. "There's my good Kurt; I knew you were in there, my sweet angel," Burt says, practically cooing the words like he was trying to soothe a scared puppy. "Daddy loves you, Kurt. Do you remember?" Kurt cries harder. Quinn reaches out and pets Kurt's hair, her tits smashed into Burt's back. When Kurt finally stops crying, he gathers the dishes and washes them by hand in the sink. Quinn stays on the couch, her hand on Burt's thigh as he pulls off her top and plays with her saggy tits. His thick fingers pull at her nipples as she squirms in her seat. She pretends she can hear her panties squish, they're so wet.  That night, Kurt falls asleep in a tiny ball and Quinn drapes herself over him like a satisfied cat.  "I didn't want to believe it, Quinn," Kurt says quietly. She can't see his face, he's buried it under his arm. She idly rubs his shoulder so he knows she's awake. "I thought it was all him but now I know." Quinn hums and continues to rub his shoulder until she falls asleep. The next day, Kurt gifts Quinn with Sam and packs his things and moves into the sewing room. ***** Interlude ***** Chapter Summary Sorry for the long wait, I've been having a time of it this past year. This chapter is a Kurt interlude that can be ignored as it is not a part of the main Burt/Quinn narrative. The next chapter will be Burt/ Quinn, it just needs to be written out. Kurt looked stupid in his half-assed attempt at a Dalton uniform. Here he was, sitting in the Dalton sophomore break room--which was mindblowing just by existing--being confronted by three Warblers while wearing short pants. He closed his eyes and sighed. At least death by glee choir was unique enough that he might get a mention in the Lima News. At least he wasn't even in Lima right now. That's all he'd ever asked for out of life: to not die in Lima. But then Blaine had waved his friends off and turned out to be an upstanding guy. A guy with a heart of gold even, go figure. Kurt sighed shakily and sat back in his chair, hands curled around the warmth of his coffee cup. And when Blaine said he was gay and that Kurt looked like he had some troubles, well. He didn't tell him about school or Sam or Karofsky getting meaner or about Dad. There was no way, what with how they all interlocked and jumbled into a horrid tangle in his head. Instead, he reached out and squeezed Blaine's hand, lingered on his fingers while smiling. It's so easy to brush off his concern while looking him in the eyes. Kurt's a pro at acting like nothing's wrong. He was a little bit surprised to end up making out with Blaine in the backseat of his SUV though. Hadn't really planned on it but Blaine had been so persistent about Kurt letting him know what was wrong and he couldn't think of a better way to distract him. It was actually kind of nice. "Kurt, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so forward, I--" Blaine moaned out before sticking his tongue in Kurt's mouth. Kurt grunted and let him, his body going slack under the heavy weight of another person without a second thought. And that's an erection digging into his stomach. Kurt opened his mouth more and scrunched his face in disbelief when Blaine started to squirm around, his hips thrusting erratically and lightly. "Hold on," he said, cautiously moving his hand to Blaine's hip to steady him. Blaine looked at him, panting heavily and his face flushed bright red. He looks like a puppy and it made Kurt's stomach hurt. "Oh wow," he said before a shudder went through his whole body. Already? Kurt huffed and let his head fall back. He moved his hand from Blaine's hip to his head and tentatively pet his sticky hair. Blaine buried his nose in Kurt's neck and hummed. It's cute. He's kind of cute. And he never once mentioned how Kurt wasn't hard. When Blaine asked if he wanted to go out, he said yes. ---- When he got home that night, Dad's gone upstairs to bed already. His walker sat at the bottom of the stairs and the sight always makes Kurt's guts lurch. Quinn sat on the couch in her cheerleading uniform with no bloomers on. Her legs were spread to show off her white-streaked vagina. "Kurt, look. Burt told me to show you what you're missing." She reached down and rubbed her thighs and fingered the come-streaks, her eyes bright and cheery. Did she learn to be this cruel from Coach Sylvester? "I put my finger up my ass for him. I managed two today and soon he'll fuck me there. Want to practice with me for your future boyfriends?" It's like listening to an evil parrot. Kurt picked up a couch pillow and threw it at her feet before stomping up to the sewing room. ---- The next day at school, Karofsky cornered him in the locker room and kissed him. Kurt thought he should be shocked but he wasn't. He still pushed Karofsky away, struggled when he comes in for a second kiss. Karofsky bit his mouth, made him gasp in pain before pushing him harder into the lockers. Kurt tried to kick him when he dragged him to the floor and forced his legs apart. Karofsky's pulled at Kurt's pants zipper and the fear in his brain escalated to stratospheric heights. He whined high in his nose and shook like a kicked puppy, his hands weak as they pushed at Karofsky's chest, his face, anywhere he can reach. There's a hand on his penis, thick and rough and big and he can smell tires. But something about the sight of his penis limp and pale in an undignified heap in his lap makes Karofsky cough harsh in his throat like he's choking and scramble away. Kurt curled into a ball and peeked through his hands at Karofsky who was still standing over him. Karofsky was crying, his hands scrubbing at his cheeks while he breathed through his mouth loudly like a child. Finally, Karofsky kicked Kurt square on the back and then ran away. Kurt stayed on the ground for a long time. ---- Kurt tried to get comfortable on the futon but the bruise on his back won't let him. He texted Blaine to confirm for six at Breadsticks on Saturday. There's a knock at the door. "Come in," he said, voice rough enough he has to cough it out. Dad shuffled in, the bright hallway light behind him making a halo. "Kiddo, come to bed," he said. Dad's face is sallow, the start of a grey beard forming scattershot across his cheeks. "Dad, no," he said, his voice wobbly and weak. "I'm really tired and I want to be alone." Dad sighed and dropped on the edge of the bed, a hand rubbing against his own forehead before landing on Kurt's shoulder. "I promised not to fight you on this, I know," Kurt held his breath, "But I won't let you shut me out of your life. You're my son, I love you." Kurt couldn't stop from blurting out, "I have a date." Dad stared at him. "Now? So that Sam guy actually was--" "Not him." Dad didn't say anything. Kurt bit his lip and looked away first. "You remember our deal then, kiddo? What you owe me when a boy sticks it in you?" Kurt nodded. "Alright then, have fun on your date. Don't act like a fucking prude." Dad kissed him roughly on the forehead then pulled the blanket up to his chin. Kurt closed his eyes until the door was closed, his hand grasped tightly around his phone as a new text chimed its arrival. ***** Chapter 18 ***** He started with his thumb. Thick, rough skinned, and damp it dug into her asshole hard enough to make her grunt. Quinn’s neck hurt from twisting to keep her face out of the mattress; her shoulders were dug into the comforter and the skin over her collarbones and breasts were itchy from the rough quality of the fabric. Burt was back there, digging around in her ass like he was planning to pop out a plum with one hand, the other in between her shoulders keeping her down. Heat was flooding into her pelvis and up her neck and head until she could feel it steaming out of her sweaty hair. “Relax,” Burt said between his teeth, “You’ve had bigger in there. What’s one little thumb to you?” Quinn twitched her shoulder blades back and tried to push back with her ass. It wasn’t long before he was leaning back to grab more lubricant with his right hand; his thumb stuck in her butt while his fingers splayed across her cheek and soon started to drum out an off-kilter beat. Quinn groaned when the cold lube splattered down her crease, his thumb wriggling around in and out of her ass. It was big but not big enough. That’s when Burt pushed in his other thumb. This was bigger than two fingers. Shorter, but thicker and unforgiving, Burt was spreading out his hands until it felt like the thin skin of her asshole was going to tear. Quinn cried out in pain, tears starting to sweat behind her eyelids and over her lashes. “No,” she gasped out, “Oh! Oh! Oh!—” “Shut up,” Burt said. Then he gripped her ass with both hands and brought his thumbs back together. Quinn whimpered and tried not to cry out again, her breath catching in her throat. She pushed her face into the mattress and brought the comforter in between her teeth. Burt spread his thumbs out again, twisting his hands up and down on her ass as her asshole gaped for him. Something was in between his thumbs, lightly poking at the stretched-out rim of her asshole. Just a glimpse, a taste. Just the tip of his dick. Quinn whined and felt her clit throb as Burt brought his hands back together and let the head catch for a second before sliding up in between her cheeks. “Please, please, please,” Quinn said in a mumble into the comforter. Burt grunted and pulled his hands out of her, wiping his thumbs over her ass like she was a towel. He spanked her hard enough that the sound echoed in the bedroom. “Not tonight, little girl. It’s a school night.” Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!