Dark fic + - Minors DNI- if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS
Summary: She couldn't choose one and for once they were willing to share.
Themes/warnings: Smut, double penetration (vaginal), dom/sub dynamics, mean dom!Quinn, sadist dom!Jack, soft dom!Luke, group sex, possessiveness, lake house
Word count: 2.2k
It all started with Luke, she was all his for the keeping at first. Till Jack spoke with his younger brother and suddenly y/n was cornered in the kitchen when Luke "went to the bathroom" and gave Jack the perfect opportunity.
Jack knows he's a natural when it comes to getting his way and having y/n bent over the counter cumming on his dick was too easy. She'd cried when Luke appeared but he put a stop to that almost immediately, assuring her that he wasn't made and that it was all completely fine and suddenly she was agreeing to be shared.
Then summer came, the regulation hockey season over and the lake house was waiting.
Quinn made it to the play offs in Minnesota so it was just the three of them. But he arrived today and while Jack and Luke made no secret of the dynamic. Y/n has been stressed to pieces over the idea of Quinn not approving.
"Hey." Quinn greets as he catches y/n inside to get some water.
Luke and Jack outside by the lake while y/n turns looking at Quinn feeling scrutinised under his gaze.
"Hey." Y/n smiles trying not to crumble as Quinn walks closer.
"Are you scared of me?" Quinn asks as y/n backs up, jumping when she only gets a couple steps back before she bumps into the fridge. "That's a yes."
"No-No. I just umm...I uhh..."
"You're...scared?" Quinn chuckles but he's not lightening the atmosphere and she's not certain he wants to either. "I won't hurt you...that's Jack's thing."
Y/n feels her heart thudding as he stands directly in front of her, so close but just far enough that he's not touching her. But his comment makes her realise that maybe this isn't an accident. Him catching her alone was done purposely. She knows Jack and Luke are controlling enough that this wouldn't happen.
"What's wrong?" Quinn questions, his tone with an edge of mockery.
"Don't be mean, Quinn." Luke states appearing from nowhere with Jack following suit with a smirk of amusement. She fell into their trap.
Y/n tries to step towards Luke just for a level of safety in his defence but Quinn's hands come up to her waist keeping her planted in place.
"I didn't say you could move." Quinn states before leaning into her, his lips so close to her own she can feel his breath over hers. "Are you going to be good for us?"
"Yes."
Luke settles a little at her lack of hesitation but he's still watching with focused eyes.
"You've let them have their way with you but I think you deserve a bit more than that." Quinn comments almost menacing as he speaks.
Y/n's breath catches as she goes to speak only to be silenced with a kiss that practically makes her dizzy, it feels like he's managed to evacuate the air from her lungs.
The next couple minutes of a rush of movements and before y/n knows it, she's laid out on the bed she'd so far been sharing with the two younger brothers.
The three are now stood as if they're figuring out how they can share one woman between the three of them. Possibly not having considered the logistics of that.
But somehow they seem to silently decide how they want her not even needing to verbalise it to each other.
Jack's over her in and instantly she's locked in a kiss as he grinds down on her earning a moan before he flips down over so she's on top of him.
"You're dripping, baby. Does the thought of having all three turn you on?" Jack asks before he smirks a little as his hands grabbing her thighs to spread her legs further over himself while she feels a second pair hands smooth over her ass. But when she turns to look back at who it is, Jack grabs her jaw turning her back to face him and one of the hands slap her ass making it sting.
"You keep your eyes forward, baby." Luke states appearing sitting to the side as she feels Jack push at her ribs to lean over towards the youngest brother.
Obviously it's Quinn behind her which does spark up her nerves again before she feels Luke gently cup her cheek, his thumb rubbing over the mark from Jack's harsher touch then over her lips that are a little swollen from the kiss.
"I'm taking your mouth." Luke declares making her nod and swallow, getting herself focused on him in hopes her stomach will not feel so queasy at this new development.
Y/n's hand takes hold of his length, taking him into her mouth as she feels Jack's lips around her nipple and a tip teasing her pussy before he pushes in with a bit more force than she was prepare for as het body jolts forward, hands bracing herself on Luke's thighs and whining as Jack's teeth sink into the sensitive flesh of her nipple.
"Easy." Luke huffs as Quinn smirks.
"She can take it, and she'll be taking twice as much in a couple minutes. Don't be so soft on her." Quinn scoffs watching goosebumps rise over her skin at his words.
Y/n whimpers a little from the push and pull of her body while Jack continues to nip and bite her at her breasts, one of his hands moving downwards to her clit making her body jump. A moan rips from Quinn as he begins thrusting in and out of her, and she can't help but arch her back again feeling him hit the perfect spot again and again as she takes Luke's length further down her throat, feeling gentle pressure from him on her head.
The feeling of the brothers all on her is consuming, she feels them practically coursing through her veins. A knot building in her as they touch her in so many ways that she just can't keep up with.
The feeling of Quinn sliding a finger into her along side his dick makes her chest start to thud with anticipation. Unable to control herself as she can do nothing but feel him stretching her, adding another finger, each one making her twitch before he pulls them out and her body slumps down on Jack a little.
"Jacky, she's ready." Quinn states stilling himself and y/n tenses not sure what she's ready for but almost certain she isn't ready for it.
She pulls back from Luke's length not realising how ragged and uneven her breaths.
"Wait-"
"Ah, we set the rules." Quinn cuts in pulling out of her as she feels Luke shushing her and reassuring her, guiding her back to his dick as she leans over and continues sucking him off while Jack leans into her ear.
"It might hurt a little, baby." Jack states as she feels both him and Quinn position at her pussy which makes her look at Luke helplessly.
Part of her is relieved it isn't Luke trying to wedge his way in with one of his brothers. He's the youngest but the most well-endowed. Not that Jack, or seemingly Quinn, lack any ability. Size definitely does not equate to ability to provide pleasure. But she'd rather Jack and Quinn take her together than Luke and one of his brothers.
Plus he gives her the comfort she needs in eye sight right now.
"You can do this baby." Luke whispers gently twirling her hair around his finger.
But the moment Jack and Quinn push into her, she feels panic rise. There's a burn in the stretch to accommodate them but with her mouth full she can only dig her nails into Luke's thigh and Jack's chest to communicate her distress.
The two brothers push deeper into her, forcing her body to mould around them. Y/n moans making Luke groan above her thrusting his hips forward into her face as he also loses restraint.
"Fuck y/n." Luke mutters while Jack and Quinn moan at the feeling over her pussy practically vacuum sealed around them from how tight she is taking them both.
"You're gonna want to relax out we might just break you." Quinn comments running his finger down her spine.
"Might not be so bad." Jack taunts as y/n's trembles.
Jack has always been a little harsher and more sinister in the bedroom, take pleasure in blurring the line of pain and pleasure till she's incapable of thinking anything he does doesn't feel good.
They find a rhythm leaving her constantly full, feeling the rub of their dicks filling her before and the knot that built up coils and tightens before snapping and y/n loses control of her body, her mind melting and the nail in the coffin being Luke cumming down her throat.
Pleasure at knowing she made him feel good prolongs her orgasm as a second wave hits from the warmth settling in her stomach as she swallows every drop.
After that it's a blur though she can feel Jack and Quinn pick up the pace in a rush before they spill into her too.
Her body is pliant as she's lifted up off of Jack by Quinn, her head lolling back onto his shoulder. Exhaustion and a neediness for him that she hadn't felt in the frenzy of the moment.
Their words wash over her but nothing sticks, she's completely out of it till she finally regains her consciousness finding herself in the bath.
"Hey..." Luke smiles softly when she straights up a little realising she's missed an entire chunk of time.
"Where's Jack and Quinn?"
"Cleaning up the bedroom."
Y/n sucks in a breath turning to look at him and swallowing as he continues to watch her with caution.
"Are you feeling ok? Was that too much?"
"I don't know what I'm going to do when the season comes back if that's how the whole summer is going to be." Y/n confesses with a small laugh earning a chuckle before he pulls her into himself again.
"We'll figure something out." Luke assures her with a deep chuckle before placing a kiss on her neck.
"Did I pass out?"
"Yes." Jack answers suddenly appearing at the door while Luke sighs behind y/n. "Luke refused to share you till you woke up."
"He doesn't trust us." Quinn adds as he also appears in the bathroom that suddenly feels suffocatingly small under their penetrating gazes. "I don't think you had a bad time. Practically left Jack lying in a puddle when you squirted all over us."
Y/n's face burns at the information that she'd subconsciously been aware of.
"You all cleaned up?" Quinn asks as he picks up a towel and Jack moves over to offer his hand to get her out.
"As clean as I can get her." Luke hums holding y/n's waist to steady her as she takes Jack's hand. But it turns out her unexpectedly numb legs aren't caught up with her post-sex recovery and the moment Luke's released her she wobbles making Quinn move forward at the same time Jack wraps his arm around her waist and she's caught by the two.
"Maybe we did break you a little." Jack comments as he legs goes one he knows Quinn has a hold of her.
-
Weeks of sex with all the brothers, y/n's life is a blur of pushed to her limits and beyond them, aftercare and the rest of the time being pampered and fussed over.
Now she's lying on a sun lounger by the lake, her head on Jack's stomach, her legs over Quinn's lap and Luke's head lying on her stomach while they watch the sun set with a haze of heat over the lake water.
"Could we not stay here forever?" Y/n asks feeling the brothers chuckle.
"We're considering keeping you here. Though it's not as fun when you're willing." Jack states, his hand coming up to her throat and holding it with enough tightness that she feels her airways restrict but not close entirely.
"She has to survive the rest of summer yet. I don't think we've even got close to breaking her like we promised." Quinn comments though y/n doesn't remember any promise being made to her. Possibly one made between themselves.
"They're kidding." Luke sighs making her swallow a little, her throat still in Jack's grip.
Quinn and Jack aren't alway so mean and sadistic but there's no doubt Luke makes sure they're not actually causing any harm to her when they get blinded in their lust.
"That's what he thinks." Jack whispers thumb rubbing over the artery in her neck like he'd really use it to bring her harm.
Despite the constant conflicting emotions they pull out of her, y/n definitely can't help but feel almost greedy for having all three of the brothers.
She's not ignorant she knows how much they're all chased and sought after. But somehow they all want her. In fact during the past few weeks rarely has it been as peaceful as it is now. They bicker over her only managing to shut up for short periods of time or during sex when they work as a team to break her mind till she can't hold up her own head or form words.
Relationship: dark!Quinn, dark!Jack, dark!Luke x F!Reader : dark!Quinn x F!Reader
Side Story for Their Sweet Girl
This happened before Part 1 aka before they claimed you, but after the boys learned that they all liked you. Some scenes are before, during, and after First Time and Playing Games.
Hello, lovelies!! Another side story/blurb that got too long. This is best to be read after First Time and Playing Games, but you can do what you want! Some scenes are highly referenced/entwined. No proofread!! Please read the warnings!!
Count: ~9.2k words
Different Dark and Unhinged Personality: Dom!Quinn
TW/CW: 18+ MDNI, Smut, Dark, Extremely Deranged and Manipulative behavior, Voyeurism (video and audio devices, and on scene / watching another touch and take advantage of you), Breaking in, Somnophilia (non-con -> dub-con), Violence (not between brothers and not on reader), Virginity (Reader was a virgin; slight inaccuracies), Finger...fucking, Implied connections to criminal activities (bribery, hiring men, deaths), Scenes from First Time and Playing games (Implied rough sex and mentions of fucked up actions: inappropriate touchings, somno, dry humping), Alcohol Consumption.
Dark Masterlist | Their Sweet Girl AU | Taglist | Disclaimer | Inbox Rules
Quinn had always taken it upon himself to take care of the important people in his life. It wasn't because he was raised like this, but because he had understood and known that the world would never be kind.
Not to Luke, who loved to play pretend with that sweet boy mask that had been present since he first step foot in elementary, using the innocent gaze that diverted any scolding that he should've received. Especially not when he had been so focused on playing with your innocence, taking advantage of your sweet adoration, while he was closing in on himself, untrusting anyone of to unmask, so ignorant that he didn't know his oldest brother had always been aware.
Not to Jack, who was so volatile and unhinged that he was wreaking havoc wherever he went, from violence to mischief, doing whatever it was that could give him the slightest hint of euphoria. Especially not when he started riling you up, appearing to tease you but not to the point of bullying you, but the insanity in his eyes always betrayed him, barely trying to reign himself in from wanting to corrupt every bit of your soul, always begging to be let out like a wild animal forced in his cage, so wild that he didn't know Quinn had never locked the cage.
Not to you, who were the purest soul he had ever laid eyes upon, perfectly able to go out and run free but always needed to crawl back in the safe walls of your home. Especially not when you were so bright that your existence drew in the worse and vile existence that was apart from Quinn and his brothers, so pure and kind that you didn't know how much Quinn was fighting back the ones that wanted to hurt you.
Quinn would do anything for his brothers and you even at the expense of himself. He barely slept a full eight hours of recommended sleep, on and off season. He would always be calling people—initially beyond his connection until he made it—to cover and straighten things up. Things that must've slipped from Luke's intricate and secretive plans. Things that Jack definitely didn't give a shit about. Things that lurked around you that were begging to be deleted from its existence.
His brothers were a handful. Jack was the one that needed more attention, but it would be remedied by telling him what to do. A simple instruction would always be like a lit path that kept him in the present instead of being trapped in the noise in his head. Luke might need less attention, but it didn't mean he was independent. Sure, he slipped once or twice, but most of the time he didn't. However, he needed the support, the stir to the right mindset that he was never doing anything wrong, that it was okay to do whatever he wanted to do.
Quinn had embraced their versions of darkness with his much darker hue.
If they were fucked up, he was more than that. He was the one with connections to hired arms, not just measly hackers that Luke knew about and hired to make that app in your phone but actual criminals that could bury a person's death and make it into a missing case. He was the one moving their money, not just simple bribes that Jack loved to hand out, but towards organizations to actively secure protection and liberties. Most of all, he was the one controlling Luke and Jack by fanning their darkened flames, fueling their obsessions towards you until they matched his.
It was exhausting to keep up with this insanity, but it needed to happen. They needed to keep up. They needed to understand that you were the most important thing and their lives. They needed to look at you like you were the only thing giving light in their lives. They needed to feel like they were breaking day by day as long as they didn't have you. They needed to feel how Quinn felt from the very beginning.
He fell so fucking hard and harder every fucking day that past. His mind was reeling at the memory of you—your smiles, your giggles, your pouts, your tears, your sobs. There was never a time that Quinn didn't visualize you even during the games.
You made him feel calm yet restless. Focused yet distracted. Whole yet incomplete.
You consumed him.
Heart, body, and soul.
There was not a piece of him that wasn't stolen away, but he had no complaints. You could have everything and everything else. You owned him. Ever since the day you greeted him with your eyes crinkling at the sides. Ever since you giggled at Jack's teasing. Ever since you called Luke, your Lukey. You were so perfect and so sweet that you ensnared all three of them at once. Different paces of falling and realizations, but all the same.
You gave him another reason beyond hockey and his brothers. You gave him someone to lean on when he got exhausted from all the pressure and things that he must do. You allowed him a light in his shadowed view of reality. Thus, you would be his.
Scratch that. You were already his.
And so, he found himself in your house. He sat back on your couch, watching you make your cookies perfectly rounded with a circular cookie cutter, breathing in its delightful smell spreading across the room, memorizing the tune you were silently humming along with your smile. He loved that the apron you were using was the one he had gifted you days ago. He loved the braid styled your hair in. He loved you making him cookies—the doughs had already been prepped and stored in your freezer—just because he told you that he missed eating one.
"Quinn, do you like milk?" You asked, plating up the cookies. Honestly, you could've served it in the baking tray and he would be satisfied, but you were always the sweetest. You reminded him, "Cookies are best with milk."
Quinn preferred coffee, but milk it was. He nodded, his fist gripped the armrest, forcing himself from jumping in to help you carry the plate of cookies and that impossibly filled-to-the-rim glass of milk, only relaxing when you placed it on the low-center table and when you plopped next to him.
"They look different." He looked at the cookies that were slightly different from your usual. Marking the excitement in your eyes, he took one, taking a bite of the sweet treat that he normally wouldn't eat. He could taste the vanilla, the caramel tone, the bitter yet sweetness of the dark and milk chocolate mixing, and the salt on top. "It tastes so fucking amazing," he muttered, eyeing you up and down, wishing he was tasting a different cookie, "What did you do differently?"
Oh, how he had started your rambles about cookies. You were so happy to be asked about it like no one had already. You explained about browning the butter, changing up the ratio of sugars and flour, and getting a better chocolate. You were on fire with the details, even showing him your notes in your tiny notebook, drawing his attention to how small your hands were. You were so excessively cute. So fucking edible.
"Leaving it in the freezer also developed the flavors! I tested it," you exclaimed, your eyes wide and alive. "Do you really like it?"
"Yes," he affirmed.
"Okay," you chimed. "Do you...want to eat a different pastry? I am kind of planning to make apple pie soon."
"I'll grab a slice when you make one." Quinn placed his hand on the couch, his pinky touching yours. He smirked. "Whenever that'll be."
You laughed at his teasing. "Hey, I've already done my recipe research!"
Quinn was aware of your tendency to test our different recipes and methods until you found the best one that worked for you. Trying out a dish or a pastry always took time, and he had time.
Always.
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Quinn meticulously placed a camera on top of your bookshelf after he brushed away the dust collecting on it. He carefully adjusted its angling it towards your reading nook, rechecking with the app on his phone, taping it down along with the wires. That should do it for your library, the space feeling more perfect with a device that would let Quinn watch you whenever you were reading.
He was climbing down the ladder when Jack popped in with a strip of tape sticking to his cheek. Why was it there and why on the cheek? Quinn didn't fucking know.
"We're really not going to tell Lukey?" Jack asked, frowning and crossing his arms. "This should be faster if he's here."
"Are you done with your task?" Quinn moved the ladder back to where it was, grabbing at the pan to dump into the garbage. When his brother grunted, he continued, "Luke doesn't need to know about this."
"Because he'd protest about it?" Jack followed Quinn out of your library, barely commenting when his work was being checked. "He'll be angry about being left out. He got that participation-seeking gene."
"That you also have?" Quinn smirked as Jack recoiled in offense. "Come on now."
"Hey! I helped you," the younger one grumbled, looking more like a child as he fucking pout. He was more childish than crazy today which was perfect for errands. If not, he would've been distracted before he could set up a camera. He huffed, "You would've taken another day if it weren't for me."
"I know, so thank you, Jack."
Jack's jaw dropped to the floor, his eyes growing with that weird adoration, his cheeks flushing. He nodded gingerly, eating up the simple words of gratitude. It was one of his quirks. He thought Quinn could do anything. And Luke picked that up.
Fuck, Quinn wished he could.
"So, what's the plan now?" Jack asked, not bothering when Quinn snatched his phone from his pocket. He leaned over, watching what was being done to his device. "Really? I can use it too?"
"I don't see why not." Quinn handed him the device. "Now, do your drills."
From excitement to annoyance, Jack sighed and protested under his breath about being worked to the bones, yet he still waved Quinn a goodbye and leftwith a simple huff in his breath, complaining to Quinn and appeasing himself in his whispers. He would be fine.
Now, it was time to set up other stuff.
⊹˚.⟡˖ ࣪.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⋆✮⋆ ˖ ݁ 𖥔. ࣪˖⟡.˚⊹
After days of the cameras rolling, Quinn could do his coping mechanism in the comfort—or discomfort—of his home. He watched you throw your head backwards, your back arching, your fingers knuckle deep inside your pretty pussy. The sounds that you let out—small sighs, tiny whimpers, muttering curses—were blasting in his earphones. His balls ached as he gave his cock another harsh tug, using his cum as lube, feeling himself tether in the thin line of overstimulation and fucking dreamland.
"Fuck," you cried out, your thighs shaking, coming with your fingers slipping out of you.
You should've ridden your orgasm, but you didn't. Maybe you didn't know how to. Maybe you needed help. Oh, definitely, you did. You rolled to the side, panting while you fixed your panties back in place.
Quinn changed the footage so he could see your face, his hand stopping around his cock, ignoring the ache settling all over his cock. He was still getting used to which camera was which, but he was getting better by the second. It wouldn't be long until he memorized them.
You were already dozing but you reached underneath your stuff toys, procuring a framed picture, staring at it with such longing that Quinn's chest constricted.
He knew what it was. It was a picture of all four of you that his mom took when you first visited their house. You were sitting in the middle of the couch with Luke and Jack beside you, while Quinn settled behind, leaning down with his weight on his hands. It was an important photo, proof that you were welcomed in the Hughes family. You just didn't know how deep their welcome was.
He knew you keep it hidden and close, but he didn't know that you gazed at it almost every single night if not for the cameras.
"What are you thinking about, Sweet Girl?" Quinn asked, fingertips tracing your image while his cum-slicked hand darting over his chest. "You already have us. Just tell me what it is."
Quinn never begged for anything, but he would for you. He just needed one word. Just a hint. He could decipher what it could mean. However, he didn't receive any answers beyond the smallest kiss you had given each of them and the sight of you hugging it close to your chest until you fell asleep.
"Next time then, my Love," Quinn sighed, cleaning up his mess with wipes. He gritted, his molars grinding, "Next time." A knock pushed him out of his mind. "Give me a sec."
Quinn changed out of his briefs and pants, sprayed a sprit of Lysol in the air, shut down his computer. He stepped out of the cramped room hidden in his walk-in closet. He brushed his hair back on his way to his door, opening it to see Jack.
His younger brother was adjusting his cap, his hands visibly shaking, his pupils blowing out. Next to him was Luke who was eyeing Jack with annoyance and worry.
"I need...I need to do something." Jack's tone had a dangerous edge, his bloodlust curdling the air. "I need to go out. We should go to a bar. Let's have some fun."
Jack was craving violence. It was obvious when he did. He would be dragging both Luke and Quinn somewhere, using them both like lures to any unsuspecting assholes who would dare mess with them, so he got an excuse to fight.
While Quinn wanted to spend his unusually free night, Quinn needed to make sure his brothers were safe, so he agreed.
⊹˚.⟡˖ ࣪.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⋆✮⋆ ˖ ݁ 𖥔. ࣪˖⟡.˚⊹
Quinn flinched when your hand landed on his sore shoulder. He immediately regretted his reaction because you looked so hurt and distraught, almost stepping away if he didn't grab your hand and kept it right there. He stared up at you, silently begging for you to stay, letting out a breath when you sat next to him, your feet dangling over the dock like his.
Your hand softly escaped his hold, running down the expanse of his back, your other hand joining in. You hugged him tightly, brushing your cheek against his arm, not caring if he was still damp from his earlier swim. When you moved to press a kiss on the developing bruise on his shoulder, your eyes shone with tears.
"What happened?" you asked. "Did you get into a fight too?"
Your words implied that you must've seen Jack first. While it normally didn't bother Quinn, sometimes he wished you came to him before his brothers. He also needed you.
"You could say that." Quinn looked straight ahead, towards the lake. He pretended that his skin wasn't burning from your kiss and that he wasn't feeling so much more than this. He watched as the sun's rays reflect on the waves. Its glare was getting warmer as the day approached noon. "We went out last night. I bumped on some college boys. They took it wrong and it just happened. It was mostly Jack who fought, and he almost got hit with a fucking chair."
Quinn gritted his teeth, still feeling the wood break on his shoulder. That wasn't supposed to happen. It should've just been a fistfight, but some idiot picked up a chair. It would've hit Jack's head. God only knew what would've happen if it did.
"We just fought back." It wasn't a lie. He and his brothers fought back even if the whole mess was initiated by Quinn so he could give Jack the excuse he needed. "It's us or them."
"I'm sorry," you apologized, your tears dripping on his skin, scalding his soul.
"Don't be. Not your fault," he whispered, glancing at you to see more tears sliding down your cheeks. He could feel you shaking. "We'll be okay."
"But your shoulder, Quinn," you hiccupped.
"It's just a bruise." It probably was. Quinn didn't hear a crack of his bones fracturing or a pop of his socket dislocating. "It will be gone soon." He smiled. "It gives me an excuse from shooting drills."
For a moment, you stared at him, weighing his words before you finally nodded. You hugged him tighter, just like that. You let him lean his head on yours, his hair dripping, his wet waves falling on his temple and the tops of your head. Then you started humming like you wanted to give him something that would soothe his soul.
It did.
His mind counted the seconds that turned into minutes. His heart skipped a beat when you shifted closer. His body became more relaxed, his exhaustion from the previous days finally catching up to him like a freight train. His eyelids felt heavier. His grip on the wood loosened.
"Quinn?" You called, sounding like a lullaby mixing with the sound of waves crashing against each other as a soft breeze blew past. "Take a nap, Quinny."
Quinn did, embracing the comfort you were offering.
From silence to pure fucking chaos, Quinn jolted awake to see his brothers roughhousing while you cheered from a single-seater, yelping when one of them overturned the odds alternately. He was on the couch in the lake house, obviously gotten carried—or dragged—from the dock. A fluffy blanket that could only be yours surrounded him like clouds plucked from the skies. He could smell takeouts before he saw the mess on the low table along with an untouched bowl of Chipotle near him.
He silently stretched, feeling the soreness on his shoulder, smiling when you caught him rousing.
"Quinn, Look! They're being so silly," you giggled, pointing at the two that fell to the floor, grappling at each other, trying to get a proper hold for a chance to choke the other. "They just started it and they won't stop. Oh my god, Lukey!"
Luke's hand slammed on Jack's bruised face, slamming his head down on the carpeted floor, pinning his older brother with a knee to his hips, successfully winning the scuffle.
Jack tried to fight back, but he was outclassed from Luke's weight alone, huffing when he couldn't find enough leverage to get out, refusing to surrender.
"Idiots," Quinn chuckled, taking another forkful of his lunch, his eyes capturing the time that told him that he had slept at least a couple of hours. He glanced at you, seeing your growing worry, catching your wince when Jack bit down on Luke's hand.
"Fuck! What the fuck is wrong with you—" Luke tried to retrieve his hand, losing his footing, falling into Jack's trap, getting pounced like a prey, "—You are insane, Jack."
"Come here," Quinn called you, patting the space next to him. He waited until you raced next to him, cowering from how his brothers playfight turned more physical. He assured, his hand wrapping around yours, "They'll be okay."
"O-okay," you gulped, blinking like a little bunny.
"You were just cheering," Quinn teased when you let out another yelp because Luke let out another curse, almost sounding like a whimper. He frowned at the redness of Luke's face because wind got knocked out of him. "That's enough."
Just like that, the two parted from each other, glaring while rubbing wherever they were sore. It was Luke that turned to you first, pouting and whining that he could barely breathe. The fucker caused you to jump to his aid, fuzzing over him, rubbing his back to get him to breathe when he was already breathing.
"You could land a job as an actor, Lukey," Jack spat, standing to his feet, popping his bruised knuckles, seething from the lack of your attention. That was when he bit down on his split lip, reopening the wound, blood coating his teeth and his chin. "Fuck, this fucking hurts!"
Then you went to Jack, not seeing that they were just playing and fighting to get your attention, while Quinn sat back to watch it like he was watching a movie.
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Luke still didn't know about the cameras. If he had, he wouldn't do what he was doing right now. He wouldn't be so brave on serving you bottle after bottle, getting you drunker by the minute, riding whatever drunken thought you wanted to say. He wouldn't even dare, in essence, telling you that he liked someone. He wouldn't have been so careless not to see the sadness in your eyes as soon as he said it. He wouldn't have coaxed you to sleep only to groped you as he pleased.
His youngest brother was so brazen. His hands traced their way under your shirt, greedily touching you like an animal, so perverse, so opposite to his sweet image. An unmasked Luke was interesting to watch. Impatient. Depraved. Monstrous.
Just like Jack. Just like Quinn.
Quinn couldn't be more proud as Luke’s hand dipped to your pussy, touching you over your shorts, tracing and circling until you let out a pleasured sigh. He waited for his brother to do something more, reward you for being such a good girl for letting him touch you, but Luke stopped, proving how different he was.
Unlike Quinn who would've stripped you down to nothing so he could slide his cock along your slit until he made a mess on your pussy.
Unlike Jack who would've moved you so he could eat you out after he tore your panties into shreds.
Luke simply retreated, looking satisfied with a few touches and pets, taking you to your room so you wouldn't be sore tomorrow.
"You are so soft, Luke."
Quinn leaned his head on his fist, wondering when their youngest would break. It wouldn't be long. He could see Luke's hackles rising with his lingering gaze, the ropes that held him back snapping. Bit by bit. Fiber after fiber.
A cruel smile replaced his smirk.
Jack could break him.
Quinn didn't even have to lift a finger or tell Jack about it. It would happen one day or another.
His phone pinged with a message from an unknown number. When he opened it, the pictures of those college boys on their knees, their faces bloody, swollen, and bruised, bombarded his screen. Picture after picture, he swiped through them. Dirty. Mangled. Destroyed. Then a video was sent of them receiving a bullet to their heads. Serve them right.
They suffered enough to pay for every punch they threw at Jack and Luke, and they also met mercy because Quinn wasn't heartless. Death was mercy.
Quinn was about to send his remaining balance for that job, but he received a demand for game tickets instead, specific seats near the penalty box for at least seven games for a group of five. That was...interesting especially when it was still off season, but it was an easy ask. A bargain.
"Done," Quinn replied, shutting down his PC, heading straight down.
He found Jack sitting on a high stool near the counter. His torso was lying on top of the granite, his arms spread wide, his palms flattening on the marble.
"This feels like a great bed," Jack announced, moving his arms like he was doing snow angels. "Try it out, Q."
'Keep the counter clear', Quinn noted. He rested his hand on the cold surface. Then he moved to the thermostat, adjusting the temperature two degrees Celsius lower because he had an inkling his brother was overheating.
"Go to your room if you want to sleep, Jack."
"Idon'twanna." He turned away, continuing whatever the fuck he was doing. "I am comfy—" he giggled, using your cute vocabulary, "—here."
Comfortable. Sure.
Quinn took two bottles from the fridge. One he drank from. One he carefully balanced on Jack's head. He held his laughter because Jack just froze.
Was that still comfy?
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Quinn held his breath as he took you in, his heart racing to the point of pain. He couldn't take his eyes off you as you spun for him, your skirts flowing around you, your sleeves coming to the tips of your fingers, your innocent smile looking incredibly beautiful. It didn't help that your reflection doubled the sight.
"I like this one," you chimed, sounding so giddy.
He gulped the lump in his throat, trying to settle his heart, muttering, "Me too."
Quinn struggled with fashion more than finding and maintaining illegal connections. He could barely dress himself, heavily relying on his rotation of suits and casual attire, taking inspiration from Jack’s or Luke’s fit only to end up settling with his usual shirt, sweater, and pants. He didn't understand why you chose him for your shopping spree, but it was a pleasure to drive you around and seeing you try on different clothes.
He was enjoying his time, carefully adjusting himself when no one's watching.
"Okay." You grinned, folding your hands behind you, peering up at Quinn through your lashes. "Quinny, I still have a few things to try on."
You told him that it was the last piece you had in your basket, but it turned out a sweet girl could still lie.
"I can wait." He released the curtains, keeping his gaze on you as it cascaded down to give you privacy. He turned his back, his hand securing the curtains, eliminating any chance of exposure. At that point, he decided to look around and caught sight of a white dress. A pretty one. It would suit you, so he pointed. "She'll try that one too."
The clerk nearby almost jumped to grab it.
Quinn wasn't impressed, his jaw ticking, holding the dress. He waited and waited until you called. He faced the fitting room again, opening the curtains, falling in awe with your tank top and simple-patterned shorts that showed off your legs. He hummed his approval, offering you the dress, pretending to wait for your opinion when he already knew you liked it and would try it too.
"This is perfect, Quinn," you praised. "Give me a sec."
The cycle continued. You changed. You showed it off. You smiled with stars in your eyes. Although, you made the most effort to present him with the dress he chose. You looked like a princess that would take her first summer outing. So beautiful.
If only he could slip into the fitting room. If only he could fuck you against the glass until it fogged over. If only he could come deep inside you that you'd be dripping underneath that dress. If only he could brand you his right here, right fucking now. If only.
Quinn's mood plummeted from his unsatisfied needs, but it didn't stop him from smiling at you after you finally finished dressing to your initial clothes. It didn't stop him from overtaking your card with his to pay for every single clothes you bought in this store as he had from the previous one. It didn't stop him from ignoring your huffs and puffs on your ability to pay. It didn't stop him from grabbing your hand, entwining his fingers with yours.
"What's next?" He asked, almost calling you his love, barely muttering your name as a cover.
"I think I am done shopping," you sighed, leaning against him. "Coffee?"
Coffee it was.
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Quinn locked the door behind him, tucking your keys in his pocket. Like clockwork, he walked around, making sure all your windows or doors were locked, sighing when he caught a few that were barely latched properly. Then he went upstairs, hearing groans and moans, ignoring them to continue with his task, checking the cameras and microphones along the way.
By the time he was done, he quietly opened your bedroom door, not at all surprised with Lukey jerking himself off and staring at you. He couldn't blame his brother, because you looked like the embodiment of a goddess.
Your nightgown draped over your skin as though it was mist. Your nipples taunted his control for every rise and fall of your chest. Your hair fanned underneath you. Your soft snores filled the air along with Luke's desperate noises.
Quinn knew that Luke was here because of the cameras, that he was masturbating at the sight of you sleeping, that he was on the verge of breaking—just the verge. He should probably give Luke some privacy with you, but he also needed to see the extent of your slumber.
You didn't rouse from the guttural groans from Luke or from the coldness enveloping your skin or from the danger of having two men who viciously wanted you in your vicinity. You were a heavy sleeper. Sober or not.
Quinn intended to keep that as a secret. Maybe Jack would finally discover it faster than Luke. Maybe it would be the other way around. Two possibilities that Quinn didn't give a fuck about, because he already knew.
When Luke finally came, not sloppy but still messy, Quinn couldn't stop staring at your peaceful face. A heavy sleeper indeed.
He lifted his gaze from you to his brother who was now aware of Quin's presence. His head tilting to the side, he observed the Luke's shaken and pale complexion despite the brightness of his cheeks. Your sweet Lukey was scared. A bit too scared, because when Quinn threw him tissues, he fucking flinched. What else did he expect when he was making a mess?
"Clean up." Quinn opened the windows and turned on your fan, making sure the smell of cum didn't linger because Luke, in his state, wouldn't have thought of it.
"Quinn, I was just..." Luke started and failed to finish.
"It's fine, Luke." Quinn didn't bother looking at him, allowing him to calm down on his own rather than make him stew on his actions. He sat on your bed and pulled up your blankets, shielding you from the cold. He couldn't help but feel your cheeks and savor your softness. "No need to explain."
No need to apologize.
Quinn didn't care if Luke jerked off to you. Who fucking cares. He had done worse. Not once did he regret when you came running to him about your unexplainable bruises and scratches on your thighs. Not once did he care about his brothers' opinions and thoughts if they had an inkling of what he was doing in his free time with you. Not once did he waste any time dwelling on what had happened. It didn't matter. Everything must be kept going.
Luke needed to understand that. He shouldn't waste his time being afraid of what and how Quinn would react. He should simply be.
That night wasn't the last time Quinn caught Luke. Also, Jack. The more the summer progressed, the more desperate all three of them got to get as much time as they could with you. Sometimes he went after checking the cameras. Sometimes it would be pure coincidence, Quinn just appearing then catching either of them in your house. The latter admittedly caused him disappointment. He also wanted time.
Just you. Just him.
Sacrifices like that left its mark in his soul, his insides filling with different emotions he couldn't bother to assess. He poured himself with work, with drills, with his deals, with investments. If he couldn't find an alone with you, he might as well use his time for something else. While love burned hotter, his existence was chipping at the edges. His energy dropped past empty.
So, when you popped up in the lake house instead of the little hangout you planned with his brothers, wearing that dress he picked out, he broke his own rules. He must be strong, but his resolve shattered when your hand grabbed his.
"Can I stay here instead of going out with Lukey and Jack?" You asked.
"Yes." His answer was immediate. He pulled you in, closing the door. The tension in his shoulders released the longer he gripped your hand. "What do you want to do?"
"What should we do?" You threw back, looking helpless, looking lost. You stared at him, your eyes drinking every bit of him, your teeth sinking onto your lower lip. "It's like I haven't seen you in so long, Quinn. Where were you?"
"I've been busy." Quinn tucked your hair behind your ear, his hand cupping your cheek. "I missed you. Do you want to eat some—"
Your gave him a tug then your arms wrapped around his lower back, rubbing your face on his chest. You trembled when he hugged you right back, muttering something so low that even with the silence, he couldn't hear it. Then you looked up, your eyes falling on his lips for one second.
"I'm not hungry. I just want some cuddles."
"We can do that." Quinn took you to his room, sitting you on the bed, helping you out of your sandals, noticing a blister on your left foot. "Oh, sweet girl."
"I'm fine. It's a new pair," you mumbled, your cheeks flushing. "It stings a little bit. Not too much."
"A little is already too much."
The only physical pain that you should feel should be mixed with pleasure. Grabbing an ointment from his nightstand, he applied some on your wound, covering it with a band-aid. Slowly, he looked up from your feet to your legs, to your face, his hand moving across the back of your leg.
You were so pliant under his touch even as his hand straight right at the hem of your dress, pushing and testing. Even as he rose until his face was breath away from yours. Even as his lips almost grazed your parting lips. His sweet girl was waiting for a kiss.
Not yet.
He pressed a kiss on the tip of your nose, watching you close your eyes as you swallowed groan.
"Lay down," he ordered, his voice rumbling, "Go on."
Quinn remained excessively close to you, forcing you to crawl backwards. He chuckled from your refusal to meet his gaze again and from how you shift under his blanket, your legs moving, giving him the glimpse of your red and lacy thong. His hand twitched, wanting to spread your legs so he could see it better. His tongue twisted, kind of needing to tell you about safety shorts. His mind hazed, envisioning sliding your panties to the side so he could drive his cock deep in your cunt.
"Quinn?" You peeped, your eyes wide, waiting for him to cuddle you like a good girl.
So, Quinn climbed in, his hand snaking around to your stomach, pulling you against his chest. He whispered, his lips grazing your ear, "What now? What else do you wanna do?"
"Maybe a nap?" Your voice sounded high, your ass scooting closer against his fucking crotch. A pretty little tease.
Quinn gripped your hip, forcing himself back, not letting you feel his cock that immediately hardened from the contact. "Behave, sweet girl. Close your eyes for me."
He waited until you did. His hand ran up and down your hip and waist, caressing you over your dress, giving you a squeeze here and there. His movements were languid but sure, because this was your norm for cuddles. He was only there to please, offering you his touch, grounding you with it. He listened to your satisfied sighs. The murmur of his name escaping your lips turned into even breaths.
It was barely a minute yet here you were, sleeping, fully at ease with his presence. So sure that he wouldn't hurt you. So sure that you were safe. You were, but you also weren't.
His innocent touch turned invasive after an hour. His hand slipped underneath you, groping your tits. His other pushed your dress up, curving around your thigh, cupping your pussy, pulling you back against his cock. He didn't waste any time in grinding against your ass, while he tweaked your nipples and teasing your clit over your panties.
"My Love, I missed you." He pressed a kiss on your head, swallowing his groans. He could feel you getting wetter and wetter, your thighs closing but it wasn't enough to impede his actions. He slid your panties to the side, his fingers dipping in your tight pussy, feeling your walls shake and welcome his intrusion. "You're so responsive, Sweet Girl."
He curled his fingers, reaching your special spot, drawing a tight moan from you. He fingerfucked your pussy, abusing your g-spot, stretching you out, loving how you were still stuck in your dreams. The possibility of them turning into sex dreams aroused Quinn even further.
Then a plan formed in his mind, his heart pounding from the anticipation. He shook you at the same time as he pulled his fingers out, slapping your slutty pussy.
"Wake up, Sweet Girl." He laughed as you jolted with scream as he landed another blow to your sensitive clit. He appeased you by pushing his fingers back in your heat. "Shh, it's okay. It's just me."
"Quinn—ohhh," you rasped, sleep still lingering in your voice, your hips rocking to meet his thrusts, lifting your leg slightly.
You were so greedy.
"I'll give you more if you promise to keep this as a secret." He swirled his thumb around your clit, causing your walls to spasm. "Just like before."
He had only done this once before when you crawled into his bed, wearing nothing but an oversized shirt. Oh, how he fucked you until you were creaming on his hand. He made you promise to keep it as a secret, and you kept it so well. It didn't even cause a rift between you two. He wouldn't have let it anyway.
"I-I promise," you gasped, writhing from the pleasure. You craned your head to the side, meeting his dark gaze with your pure one.
"We're just cuddling, aren't we?" Quinn mocked, savoring your hands snapping to his forearms, your nails immediately digging into his skin. "Don't come just yet, Sweet Girl. Hold it for me. I know you can do it."
You shook your head, sobbing when he gave you another slap. "I can't. It's—" your pussy sucking in his fingers, "—too much."
"You can do it." He nibbled on your ear, watching its tip flush. He thrusted against your ass as hard as his fingers pounded your pussy. He changed the tempo, slowing down ever so slightly. "You're doing so good. Just hold it, hmm?"
"It's so hard," you huffed, crying out, your thighs tensing. "Oh, please, I am—"
You came, sobbing your apology, muttering your relief. You were shaking as he rode your orgasm. You were flinching when he rubbed your cum on your clit, on your inner thighs, on your dress. You were panting while Quinn pushed you on your back and knelt between your thighs. You were gasping when he massaged your quivering thighs.
"You haven't fucked anyone yet, huh?" Quinn caught your cheeks reddened even more. He was so sure before because he felt a slight fight against his fingers, but now he was convinced because of your reaction. He carefully slid your panties back in place, his knuckles running down your slit. "Wear shorts under your dress."
"Okay," you agreed.
"This didn't happen," Quinn pushed, watching your eyes shimmer with tears.
"Okay," you cried.
Quinn leaned down, kissing your cheeks. "Time for another nap?"
"Yes," you sniffed, laying on your side, facing Quinn as he plopped next to you after he adjusted his pants. "I can keep secrets."
"I know." Quinn smiled at your determination. "That's why you're perfect."
He could see your slight hurt, taking something the wrong way, but it was how it should be. If Quinn and his brothers were spiraling because of you, you must feel the same.
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Quinn smirked at his brothers sneaking out of their tents, rushing to the lake house because they wanted to make you breakfast before their planned sailing activity. He only sat back on his chair, relaxing to the early morning chill accompanied bg the sound of nature waking.
He hadn't slept. He couldn't especially after he heard Luke scampering out of his tent in pure panic from a nightmare, crawling into your tent, humping your unresponsive body. He knew his brother was on the cusp of a breaking point despite him getting the pleasure he needed. It was just a waiting game now.
After a few more minutes and a distant scream following a loud metal thud coming from the lake house, you finally opened your tent, looking so flushed as you crawled out in a huge shirt that swallowed your frame. You were gripping its hem, keeping it low. Your legs were rubbing together. Your body trembled in a panic.
"What's wrong?" Quinn asked.
"I...I had a weird dream," you stuttered, massaging your temples. "I think I remember Lukey...doing...he was doing something to me."
That was a first. Did you remember last night?
"But it was just a dream Lukey wouldn't do anything like that." You shook your head.
"Like what?" Quinn chimed, his head tilting. "What was he doing?"
You blushed, rubbing your legs together, panting as you visibly pondered, weighing whether you would tell him or not.
"Well?" he pushed.
"He was just doing things..." You covered your face, looking so adorably embarrassed. "…that felt good."
It was cute that you couldn't even tell what it was, looking excessively helpless like you were afraid Quinn would laugh at you or accuse you of horrifying things.
"You had a wet dream? With Luke? Out of the three of us? You dreamt of Luke?" He leaned his jaw on his loose fist, relaxing into the chair, knowing for certain that Luke's sweet image would be safe.
"Don't tease me, Quinny," you whisper-yelled, sitting down on your chair, scooting closer to Quinn. "It felt so real."
Because it was real.
"Wet dreams feel like that. You think your Lukey would violate you like that? I don't think he could fathom doing anything like that." His voice didn't even shake from the lie he was weaving to cover for Luke. "Although," he paused, drinking in your panicked gaze, "It would make sense if it were me, wouldn't it?" He looked at you head to toe, chuckling as you curled them. He licked his lips. "But no one came into your tent, Sweet Girl. I was watching."
A pause filled the air. Your hand gripped the hem of your shirt, baring more of your thighs. You gulped, closing your legs further. Your breaths got heavier the more you got flustered. You gulped, looking away. Then, instead of worrying about dilemma, instead of telling him off for reminding you of what happened days ago, you asked:
"You didn't sleep? All night?"
"Someone needed to keep watch." He reached for the thermos balancing on the sandy ground, pouring you a cup of tea he had brewed an hour ago. "Drink this. It'll help with the hangover."
You accepted the paper cup, still looking worried. "Quinn..."
"I don't mind staying up late." He stripped off his hoodie, shaking his hair out, offering it to you. "Here."
You accepted it too, placing it over your lap, sipping your tea gingerly. You were still visibly shaken from your 'dream', from his implications, from his admittance that he didn't sleep yet. You shouldn't really bother with anything. There was no need for unnecessary worry. You were safe.
Soon enough, his brothers appeared from the lake house, each holding a tray, each trying to overtake the other.
"Looks like breakfast is here."
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Quinn wished there was a way that his fingers would still smell like your pussy like how he could still feel your walls clamping around them. That would be such an ideal alternate reality. He would simply bring his hand up to his nose and smell them like he was snorting on fucking drugs. He might even lick and suck them, remembering your taste, wishing his tongue was fucking you as he ate the only thing he had been craving for in days. But alas, reality was boring.
Gone was your scent. Gone was his appetite for actual food.
He glared at the plate that Jack left for him. A simple chicken sandwich and a side salad with the dressing in a miniature cup. The idiot even left a note that he should eat and that he was gone to do Quinn's errand—fixing that specific camera which angle was off and was bothering Quinn for days.
He should be the one fixing that, but he saw Jack acting snappy during the morning, barely making progress in his hockey drills, jumping all over the place like he was high on his own existence, so he told Jack to do it.
His brother locked in his drills, even made lunch, rushing off like a tornado, leaving a mess behind him in terms of bowls and pans in the sink. Such a handful, that one.
Quinn didn't bother cleaning up, snatching the post-it from the counter, replacing it with a note for Luke to eat it instead. He went up to his room and laid down on his bed, scrolling to different video feeds through his phone. He watched Jack greet you with a hug, smiling at you with mischief, pretending that he was just passing by.
He shifted to his side, watching everything like he was watching a Netflix show instead. By the looks of it, as Jack sat on your bed with a plate of apple pie, he already knew his brother had forgotten what he was supposed to do.
Quinn sighed, rubbing his palm on his face, his touch lingering on his jaw. He needed to shave, but later.
"I'll take a quick shower, Jack. Finish the pie, okay?" You stood up, waiting and staring at Jack until he nodded, totally wrapped around your finger. "I'll be super quick."
"Take your time..." his brother murmured, his head following you to your ensuite, eating and eating.
Yeah, he totally fucking forgot what to do.
Instead of watching Jack alternate between wolfing down the pie and savoring it, he switched cameras to you standing in the shower. Fuck, you were majestic. Every curve, every line, your body was everything. He had touched every single part of you already and he wished to fuck you until he owned you. It included your precious ass.
What would you do if he pushed anal plug in there every night to stretch you out? Would you notice? Would you wake up at the tight stretch? Would you cry if he left it for you to discover in the morning? Would you call him for help?
You lathered up your body with soap, carefully washing yourself, looking like a delicious meal that he wished he could grab through the screen.
At that point, Quinn sent Jack a reminder on his task, shaking him out of his dissociation. When he was asked if he was watching, he affirmed but he didn't say that he was watching you. There was literally nothing he could get from watching his brother struggling with remembering. Quinn would always rather watch you.
When you finally rinsed and dried yourself, you only put on a specific shirt that Quinn had borrowed from Jack before, the one he labelled because Luke kept wearing it for practice, the one that he accused Quinn of stealing because it disappeared.
"You're the little thief," Quinn mused, a laugh bubbling up his throat. He stood to get to his PC, booting it up quickly. "Naughty girl, Jack would eat you up."
He was right.
As soon as you opened the door after you brushed your teeth and after you placed a towel on your head, Jack clocked the shirt. The shift in energy could be felt by Quinn too. There was a specific possessive glint in his eyes as he prowled to where you were, as he made you confess that was his, as he forced against your drawer.
"You think I'm fucking blind or something?" He trapped you there, barring his teeth just enough to shake you to the core.
"No, I..." You bit, when Jack grabbed the front of your shirt, giving you an unforgiving tug. You were so scared, your hands shaking, your eyes welling up with tears, your lips curving down in a pout. "Jack...come on. It's just one shirt."
"Wanna keep it?" Jack asked, his mood changing, the fury in his eyes turning into mischief. He grinned when you nodded, letting you go, reveling at the sight of you wobbling on your feet.
You were panting as your eyes dipped to Jack's lips, blinking slowly, staring until his brother did the same.
Quinn already knew what would happen as you two came closer like a magnet was drawing you in. His hands turned into fists as Jack captured your lips harshly, kissing you and biting you. His chest tightened as you tried to reciprocate his feral kiss, as you tried to push his brother away, as you whined when you were lifted over the dresser. A lump built into this throat as you pushed and pulled and melted, losing yourself in that kiss.
He wanted to be there too. He wanted to slide his hand to your pussy, feeling your arousal drip from your cunt. He wanted to kiss your neck, leaving mark after mark, biting down hard until you cried. He wanted to hear you cry out his name as you did with Jack's. He wanted—
Jack, the fucking idiot, stepped back. His face turned pale, panting in horror. Then he left you there, ignoring your calls.
"Jack, please," you sobbed. "Don't leave me."
Every sob was like a stab of a knife, driving deeper with a twist. It was painful to see you cry, to see you break, to see you all alone. Don't worry. Quinn could fix this.
His phone rang with Jack's name on the screen. It took him a second to calm down, to quell his anger, to clear his mind.
"Q, I—"
"If you want to fuck her, do it," he cut him off, rubbing at his chest. "You're making her cry."
"Is she?" A pause. "Fuck, she is." Then another pause. Like a petulant child getting what he wanted, he asked, "Can I really fuck her?"
"Do what you want but be patient with her." He brushed his hair back, his muscles flexing from the tension. "Do not tell Luke. Convince our girl to keep this a secret even from her precious Lukey."
Quinn threw his phone on the desk, shaking off the remnants of pain and anger inside him. He fixed it. Now, you had Jack giving you the affection you deserved. His brother had you. Quinn had the view unfolding before his eyes.
Oh, what a sight it was. You chasing after Jack's touches. You crying and writhing from being eaten out. You sobbing and flushing hard from the violent mixture of degradation and praises. You flinching and accepting the harsh and bruising slaps to your skin. Your pussy bleeding when Jack bottomed out inside you, fucking you in unforgiving thrusts. You were so perfect.
⊹˚.⟡˖ ࣪.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⋆✮⋆ ˖ ݁ 𖥔. ࣪˖⟡.˚⊹
Quinn poured three glasses of whiskey, downing his before his brothers could take theirs, refilling his glass once more. He could barely feel the burn, the warmth settling in his empty stomach. He hadn't been eating as he needed according to his meal plans, but there was nothing he could do. He had a problem, it seemed.
"It's the ghosts!" Jack pointed at Quinn, shaking Luke's arm to get his attention as if he didn't just take your virginity that Luke was going for years. He kept the secret to himself. Unfazed. Carefree. Not a single change in his behavior. "The ghosts got to Quinn even if it's the off season."
"Read the room, Jack," Luke hissed, his fingers tracing over the rim of his glass.
Quinn drank again because of the headache caused by Jack's repetitive joke and pointing. It was funny at first, but it had gotten to that point. He remained silent, letting the two bicker around in circles, waiting until they finally got tired of each other.
"I'll visit her tonight," he announced. He needed you and he really had enough of them. "Do something else. I don't care, but I swear if either of you showed up, I'll take her for myself."
Luke gulped, nodding in understanding, while Jack huffed, glaring like he would complain.
"Fine, whatever," Jack huffed. "Only because you clearly need her." He crossed his arms, not even giving the glass of whiskey in front him a single glance. "What's wrong with you anyway?"
"You don't drink whiskey," Luke chimed in.
"I do." Quinn lifted his glass before he took it to the sink. The two shots were enough. He gave Jack a bland look. "I just need her. Alone. For one night." When they remained silent, he continued, "I get headaches and stuff. That's it."
"I thought it was something bad," Jack sighed, pushing his glass towards Luke. "It's just fucking withdrawal."
"As if you don't experience the same thing," Luke defended.
"I—"
"Enough." Quinn cut off Jack who immediately complained about being the one he cut off every time. "I'll bring her here tomorrow for breakfast."
That diverted what the two got going on from Quinn to breakfast. They talked about pancakes and waffles and the toppings you loved. It finally gave Quinn the opportunity to breathe, because for a second, he thought they'd try to bargain their way into his demand. However, they didn't.
It was wonderful, really. One of the reasons why he loved them. They might not have understood the depth of Quinn's frustration—or withdrawal—but they knew his limits as he knew theirs. They didn't push. They didn't tease too much. That was more than enough.
So, he finally sat down, commenting about breakfast here and there, feeling at ease.
In his silence, he pondered how the coming year would go. He would be ready if there were problems that came up. He would overcome it.
Then, they would finally have you.
All for themselves.
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✦ pairing: Dark/Yandere!Luke Castellan x Posiedon!Reader
✦ summary: During Parents’ Weekend at Camp Half-Blood, you navigate complicated emotions, family bonds, and tense relationships. Between moments of warmth, laughter, and guidance from your father, and the constant weight of pressure from someone close to you, the weekend tests your courage, loyalty, and strength in unexpected ways. Part two to Swear It
✦ word count: 2890
Luke Castellan's Masterlist
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It had been a month since everything happened, yet the pain still clung to you like a shadow that refused to fade. Each day felt heavier than the last. You felt weak for not speaking up, stupid for letting things get this far, and terrified of what would happen if you ever broke the oath you were forced to keep. Some nights you wanted to scream until your throat burned, to cry so loudly that the truth would finally shatter the silence surrounding you. But you never did. Fear always won.
Today was Parents’ Weekend, an event at Camp Half-Blood that took place every third weekend of the month. It was supposed to be a time for demigods to reconnect with their godly parents, to feel acknowledged, loved, or at least remembered. For many campers, it was something they looked forward to. For you, it only filled you with dread.
Luke was lying on your bed, arms crossed behind his head, staring at the ceiling as if he owned the space. Percy was out with Annabeth, leaving you alone to clean the cabin you shared with your brother. It was also the cabin your father would be staying in during his visit. There were always rooms prepared for the gods whenever they came to camp, but your father insisted on staying with you and Percy instead. He said he wanted to spend more time with his children. You were not sure whether that made you feel comforted or exposed.
You swept the floor slowly, your movements stiff and automatic, already planning to mop once you were finished. The sound of the broom against the wood filled the cabin, but it did nothing to drown out the feeling of being watched. Luke’s gaze followed you wherever you moved. The silence between you stretched until it became suffocating.
“I don’t even get why the gods bother showing up,” Luke said suddenly, his voice sharp and bitter. “It’s not like they actually care about us.”
You said nothing. Silence had become your habit, your shield. Every word felt dangerous now.
Luke scoffed softly and got off the bed. He walked toward you, and before you could react, his arms wrapped around your waist from behind. His grip was tight, claiming, making it hard to breathe. You froze as he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear.
“You cannot keep ignoring me, baby,” he whispered.
Your heart began to race.
“If you do,” he continued quietly, his tone almost gentle, “I can still leak the photo.”
Your blood ran cold. The words hit you harder than any shout ever could. Fear settled deep in your chest, heavy and crushing. You opened your mouth to speak, desperate to say something, anything, but before a sound could escape, a horn blasted across the camp.
Moments later, Chiron’s voice echoed through the air, announcing that the gods had arrived and that all demigods were to gather at the gates to greet their parents.
Luke released you immediately, stepping back as if nothing had happened at all.
As the campers made their way toward the gates, Luke walked beside you for a moment. “Hey, baby,” he said casually. “I will meet you at the dining pavilion later. I need to stop by Hermes’ cabin first.” Before you could respond, he leaned in and kissed you deeply, leaving no space for resistance.
When he finally pulled away and left, your body shuddered. The touch lingered far longer than it should have, making your skin crawl.
You had not gone much farther when you bumped into Percy. He looked at you with a familiar, reassuring smile.
“You heading to see Dad too?” he asked.
You forced yourself to nod, hoping he would not notice the tension in your voice. “Yeah.”
“Cool,” Percy said. “Let’s go together.”
And so you walked beside him toward the gates, trying to steady your breathing as you prepared to face your father, the gods, and a weekend that promised anything but peace.
When you and Percy reached the gates, your father was already there, waiting patiently. Poseidon stood apart from the other gods, his familiar presence immediately drawing you in. A weathered travel bag hung from his shoulder, somehow packed with far more than it appeared capable of holding. The moment he spotted you, his face softened, pride and relief clear in his expression.
“My children,” he said warmly.
Before either of you could respond, he pulled you both into a tight embrace. His arms wrapped around you securely, one hand resting protectively on your back while the other ruffled Percy’s hair like he had done countless times before. You leaned into him without thinking, breathing in the familiar scent of salt and sea air. For a brief moment, the knot in your chest loosened.
“I have missed both of you,” Poseidon murmured.
He pulled back just enough to look at you both. “How have you both been?”
Percy immediately started talking, rambling about training, camp life, pranks, and Annabeth. He jumped from topic to topic with excited energy, clearly wanting to tell his dad everything at once. Poseidon listened closely, smiling and laughing along, occasionally squeezing Percy’s shoulder with quiet pride.
Then his attention turned fully to you.
“And you, n/n,” he asked gently. “How is my girl doing?”
Your throat tightened. You forced a small smile, but it wavered, and he noticed. He always did.
“I’m okay, Daddy,” you said softly. “I promise. Can we go to the lake? I want to sit there with you.”
Poseidon studied your face for a moment longer, concern flickering in his eyes, then nodded. “Of course. Anywhere you want.”
As you walked toward the lake, Poseidon slipped an arm around your shoulders and gently pulled you closer. His touch was steady and warm, grounding in a way that made your chest loosen without you even realizing it. Percy walked on his other side, and the three of you moved together like you always had. Percy kept talking, sharing stories and laughing, and Poseidon joined in, his voice calm and familiar.
Every now and then, Poseidon’s hand tightened slightly on your shoulder, not to control you, but to reassure you. It was a quiet reminder that he was there, that you were safe, and that you did not need to brace yourself or shrink away. The contact did not make your skin crawl or steal your breath. Instead, it made you feel steadier, like you could finally stand up straight.
It was nothing like Luke’s touch. Luke’s hand always felt heavy and claiming, something that made you tense and small. Your father’s hand did the opposite. It made you feel protected, not owned. It reminded you of who you were before fear settled into your bones. For the first time in a while, you let yourself lean into the warmth without guilt.
When you reached the lake, Poseidon guided you both to sit beside him near the water. The surface shimmered gently, responding to his presence. He reached into his bag and pulled out three small boxes, placing one in front of you, one in front of Percy, and keeping the third in his hand.
“I brought something for you,” he said softly.
You glanced at the box, then up at him. “Daddy, you didn’t have to.”
He smiled. “Open it.”
You lifted the lid carefully. Inside was a ring, elegant yet strong, engraved with a trident and set with a glowing blue gem that reminded you of sunlight on the sea. Percy opened his at the same time, revealing a similar ring, slightly thicker and more rugged.
You gasped quietly and immediately hugged your father again, pressing into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you without hesitation, one hand resting on the back of your head like you were still a little kid. The warmth of it made your eyes burn.
“Thank you,” you whispered.
“For my children,” Poseidon said, kissing the top of your head. “Always.”
You noticed the third box and tilted your head. “Who is that one for?”
His smile softened. “For your mother. Tell Sally I gave it to her.”
A genuine smile finally reached your lips.
After a quiet moment, reality returned. “We should go to the dining pavilion. There are games and an event starting soon.”
Poseidon stood and offered both of you his hands. “Then we will go together.”
As you walked away from the lake, his arm stayed wrapped around your shoulders, steady and protective. Whatever waited for you at the pavilion, you knew one thing for certain. With your father beside you, you felt safe, even if only for now.
When you reached the dining pavilion, the sound of voices and laughter filled the air. Gods and demigods crowded the tables, food appearing endlessly on plates as if by magic. You, Percy, and your father took your seats at the Poseidon table. Your dad insisted on piling food onto both your plates, scolding Percy lightly about eating enough while smiling fondly at you. For a brief moment, it almost felt normal.
Percy told one of his usual exaggerated stories, waving his hands dramatically as he spoke. You laughed before you could stop yourself. It was real laughter, light and genuine, and it startled you. It had been a long time since you had laughed like that without forcing it.
That was when you felt it.
Someone was watching you.
The feeling was familiar and unsettling, like a weight settling between your shoulders. Your laughter faded just as Luke and Hermes approached the table. The shift in the atmosphere was immediate.
Poseidon stood up, greeting Hermes with a warm expression. The two gods clasped hands easily, clearly old friends.
“Poseidon,” Hermes said with a grin. “Still impossible to miss.”
“And you are still impossible to keep track of,” your father replied with a chuckle.
Poseidon’s gaze moved to Luke, studying him carefully. “So this is the pride of Hermes’ offspring,The best swordsman in camp, from what I hear.”
Luke smiled, confident and practiced. He stepped closer and placed a hand on your back, his touch firm and possessive.
“Yes, sir,” Luke said proudly. He reached out and shook Poseidon’s hand. “Luke Castellan.” Then, without hesitation, he added, “Your daughter’s boyfriend.”
Your heart dropped.
He is really telling everyone.
Hermes turned to you next and took your hand, shaking it gently. His smile lingered, but his eyes were sharp and knowing. Something in his expression made your chest tighten. It felt like he understood far more than he was letting on, especially when it came to his son.
The rest of the meal blurred together. Hermes and Poseidon talked easily, trading stories and laughing. Percy joined in eagerly whenever he could. You barely spoke.
Luke never stopped watching you. His hand slid from your back to your thigh, rubbing slow, deliberate circles. The touch made your skin crawl. You stayed still, afraid that if you moved or spoke, someone would notice. You smiled when you were expected to, but your stomach twisted and your eyes burned. You felt trapped, like a doll being displayed.
When you finally returned to the cabin, your father settled in for the night. The rest of the next day passed in fragments. Swimming in the lake. Listening to old stories. Watching Percy laugh freely with your dad. You tried to enjoy it, but the weight never left your chest.
When Parents’ Weekend drew to a close, Poseidon pulled Percy aside.
“Go walk around for a bit,” he said gently. “I need to talk to your sister.”
Once Percy was gone, Poseidon turned to you, his expression serious. “I have noticed you have not been wearing the necklace I gave you,” he said quietly. “The one you loved so much.”
Your breath caught.
“And you have been different,” he continued. “Quieter. Distant, You never told me you had a boyfriend.”
That was all it took. You broke down, sobbing as you told him everything. The threats. The fear. The photo. Luke.
Poseidon’s expression darkened with rage. His hands clenched. “I will fucking kill him,” he said coldly.
You cried harder and grabbed his arm. “You can’t,” you begged. “I swore an oath on River Styx.”
The anger drained into pain. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. “I am so sorry,” he whispered. “I love you. I wish I could fix this.”
Too soon, the gods had to leave. Poseidon kissed your forehead before he went, telling you again and again that he loved you and that none of this was your fault.
Later that night, drained and exhausted, you returned to the cabin, hoping to rest. You barely had time to breathe before arms wrapped around you from behind.
Hands covered your eyes.
“Guess who,” a familiar voice said softly.
You swallowed. “Luke.”
He laughed quietly and turned you around, kissing you deeply. His hands lingered far too long.
“I missed you,” he said. “We barely spent time together because of that stupid parents weekend.”
Then he leaned closer. “You should sleep in my cabin tonight.”
You shook your head immediately. “I can’t. It’s against camp rules. Percy would be alone.”
Luke’s expression darkened. “I don’t fucking care about that.”
He gestured toward his cabin. As the counselor and one of the camp’s most praised heroes, Luke had privileges no one questioned. His cabin had a separate room attached to it, a private space meant for meetings and rest. No one ever challenged it. No one ever challenged him.
“I have my own room,” he said quietly. “No one will notice. No one will say anything.”
Your stomach twisted.
“I said no,” you whispered.
His grip tightened. His voice dropped. “Don’t even try to make this difficult. You already know what will happen to you if you do.”
Fear wrapped around your chest, heavy and familiar. You had no strength left to fight him tonight.
So you swallowed hard and nodded.
“Yes,” you said softly.
When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was the weight around you. Luke’s arm was draped over your waist, heavy and unmoving, like an anchor. He was shirtless, his chest pressed firmly against your back, his breathing slow and even as if nothing in the world could disturb him.
You tried to sit up.
You barely moved.
His arm tightened instinctively, pulling you back against him, and you realized his legs were tangled with yours, trapping you in place. Panic fluttered in your chest. You shifted again, more carefully this time.
“Luke,” you said quietly. “We need to get up. There is a counselors’ meeting today.”
He did not respond at first. His grip stayed firm, possessive even in sleep. You swallowed, then spoke louder.
“Luke. We are going to be late.”
That was what finally did it. He groaned softly and loosened his hold, pushing himself up onto one elbow.
“Already?” he muttered.
“Yes,” you said, sliding out of the bed the second you were free.
You dressed quickly, your back turned to him the entire time. Luke watched you without saying anything, then got up and dressed himself, completely unbothered. When you were both ready, he took your hand without asking and led you out of the cabin.
At the meeting, you sat beside him like you always did. His knee pressed against yours under the table, his arm resting behind your chair. In front of you sat Clarisse and Silena. Clarisse glanced back once, her expression sharp but protective. Silena smiled softly at you, her eyes full of concern. The looks they gave you made your chest ache. They were trying to tell you something without saying a word.
You focused on the meeting, nodding when expected, answering when asked, even though your mind felt far away. Luke spoke confidently, effortlessly commanding the room like the hero everyone believed him to be.
When it was finally over, Clarisse and Silena stood up immediately and came over to you.
“Hey,” Clarisse said, crossing her arms. “We are having a sleepover tonight. Aphrodite cabin. Just us three. Like old times.”
Silena nodded eagerly. “Eight o’clock. No boys. No drama.”
For a split second, hope flickered in your chest.
Then Luke stepped in.
“No,” he said flatly.
Both girls turned to him. Clarisse’s jaw tightened.
“She can decide for herself,” Clarisse said.
Luke ignored her and looked straight at you. “You are not going.”
Your heart started pounding. You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. You knew it would soften him, at least a little.
“Luke,” you said gently. “I stayed with you last night. Please. It is just a sleepover.”
He stared at you, unreadable.
“No,” he repeated.
Before you could say anything else, he leaned down and kissed you in front of them, brief but deliberate, like punctuation.
“I will wait for you by the door,” he said quietly. “Do not take too long.”
And that was final.
Silena stepped forward and squeezed your hand. “Text us later,” she whispered.
Clarisse gave you a quick hug, firm and grounding. “We are here. Always.”
You nodded, forcing a smile as they walked away.
Luke’s hand slid back into yours, guiding you toward the exit.
You followed him, because you always did. And you had no other fucking choice
....
Likes Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated
Dark! Quinn, Dark! Jack, AND Dark! Luke. You’re wearing one of the three’s jersey. How do the other two react to it? 👀
꒰ ♡ warnings ♡ ꒱ > Quinn's like a dissapointed teacher. But one with a violent streak out for blood. Jack and Luke have brother insecurities. Jack cumming on the jersey. Luke lashes out.
Quinn’s the most on the surface unbothered, he’s not as threatened by the temper tantrum, by the prank. He knows you understand how he’d react if you were ever serious about doing it, he’s not going to concern himself with this nonsense when you can’t even look him in the eye. A stare enough to make you backpedal, stripping on the spot. He’d refuse to let you leave the house, to be seen with him.
He usually avoids being harsh with you, but he’s not tolerating the stupidity. He’s cutting it off at the root. He won’t let you wear any name that isn’t his, it’s just not allowed.
Maybe if it were someone else, someone he might have to consider as a threat, he’d be more serious. Maybe then he’d target them on the ice, wanting them to pay in blood for your behaviour. Maybe then he’d have you down on your knees until you’re bruised up and red raw, crying about the blood and the pain, crying around his cock buried down your throat.
But his brothers? He’ll stay calm. A quick text in the group chat to stop them encouraging your behaviour.
Jack? Oh, you’ve made a mistake with Jack. He can’t let it go, can’t move past it. He can deal with Luke’s jersey. Or at least he can breathing exercise his way over it, it’s just a prank when it comes to his younger brother. He doesn’t see him as a threat, he’s at most just a placeholder when you can’t have Jack around— in his eyes. He can pretend that you’re showing family support, that you’re so in love and devoted to him that you want to be there.
But Quinn’s jersey? He can’t. He doesn’t care if you realise how worried he is about you leaving him for him. It haunts him, an itch he can’t scratch. A burning desire to yank your head down the second you even look at him. The idea of you wearing his jersey drives him insane. Makes him petty. Makes him drop the mask, purely needing to ruin the chances of it even happening again.
He’d take a pair of scissors to any jersey you have that isn’t his. Even ones you’ve bought yourself— everything needs to be specifically off his back.
The one you’re wearing for this fucked up prank? You’re getting pushed to your knees, his hand furiously jerking himself off to clear his head— no touching from you, no speaking. Just his moans and grunts until it’s permanently stained and ruined with his cum.
Luke? Luke has a full meltdown. If you thought Jack was bad, he’s a whole different beast. Years of concerns about being the youngest, the most immature option in your head. It never matters how much you reassure him, it just rushes off him like water. He’s quick to spiral over any comment on any good day, never mind a situation like this. You clad in the very threat that drives him insane. Years of reassurance blown into smithereens. Ruined. Tainted. You’ve been lying to him with every word that leaves his mouth, that’s what he understands.
The tears leaking from your eyes meaning nothing to him, the shutters falling over his face. Total emotional lockdown.
He wouldn’t say anything, a ringing in his ears blocking every noise out. The bedroom door slammed in anger as he flees— he doesn’t trust his body, doesn’t trust his head to not explode at you. He can’t sacrifice this, but he can’t deal with you when the sight of you covered in his own brother’s name is burned into his eyes.
Your calls ignored, your texts ignored. The only key to the apartment a heavy weight in his jeans pocket. He’ll come back to you after the game. He’ll let you out. But not right now.
ok but…the hughes boys each claiming a hole…and destroying u all at once…🎤🎤🎤
alr, i think this is too much... 👉🏻👈🏻
🚨 rough sex, little moments that seem non-con, but she enjoys it, i swear. Anal sex, oral sex. All your holes at the same time. Exposing you while you sleep. Using you while you sleep. A good pt.2?? Almost losing consciousness. You can't control your actions. Cumming too hard. And i think that's the majority. 🚨
@kawhh ; @ruinix <33
you feel like you're going crazy. You're overwhelmed, overstimulated, constantly horny, remembering what you did a couple of days ago.
you let your boyfriend fuck you... in front of his brothers.
god, you even put on a show for them, stripping for them and letting them use you to get off. You still remember Quinn's taste, and how good it feels to be filled by Luke.
you even dream about it.
and since that day, a few things have changed. The place is tense. Jack watches with amusement as his brothers seem on edge for you, while you move cautiously, nervous all the time, embarrassed.
and they don't make it easy for you either.
Quinn takes every opportunity to put his hands on your body, like when he saw you in the kitchen and grabbed your waist, moving you so he could reach a spoon. Of course, you knew it was on purpose. The way he made your ass rub against his bulge gave it away.
Luke's always watching you, no matter what you do, making you feel hot. Like when you wanted to sit with them, on that same couch, and his eyes kept looking at your legs, your chest, all of you.
you're surprised nothing more has happened, but you can feel the air getting heavier every day, as if you were standing in front of a bomb that could explode at any moment. You struggle to breathe, you feel so small in every room you enter, and being with the three of them in the same place is overwhelming, and you try to put distance between you and Jack in those situations because you can see his intentions.
you feel dirty, even guilty, because you can't stop thinking about them. You've had dreams about Quinn and Luke, of them fucking you, Luke forcing you to use his thigh, and then Quinn filling you with his long fingers. You've dreamed of having both of them at the same time, then waking up wrapped around your boyfriend.
you blame him because you didn't have these thoughts before, and now you can't stop. It's all you want and need. You need all three of them. You want to be exposed to them again, to be used; but you don't want to take the first step.
it's then that a week has passed, and you're on the same couch, watching a movie with Jack. Your body covered only by his shirt, and you took advantage of the fact that the house was empty to have a long time of entertainment.
your lower back hurts a little now, your legs are a little cramped, so Jack lets you lie on top of him, while he gently strokes your back.
you curl up, seeking his warmth, feeling sleepy and affectionate, wanting to have him as close as possible. And soon the movie began to fade behind you, the voices growing more distant, your vision blurred, your eyelids wanting to close.
in his arms, you fell asleep, forgetting where you were, your situation. Forgetting about your boyfriend's needs for a second.
a couple of minutes pass until the front door opens, and Quinn and Luke walk in, talking about what they did that day, looking at each other until they reach the living room, where they see the scene before them.
Jack smiled and continued stroking your back, watching his brothers' actions out of the corner of his eye, knowing full well that your ass is starting to peek out from the shirt, which is riding up more and more with each caress.
Quinn clears his throat, suddenly feeling heated, his eyes fixed on your thighs, on how your legs are on either side of his brother's hips, making you more exposed, as if you want them to see your pretty, used, still-full pussy.
Luke tries not to look, to ignore what he's feeling, but it's impossible. He can't not look when your ass is there. He wants to grab it, smack it, spit on it. He wants to shove his cock between you and make you whimper for him.
"sit down, she can give you a show," Jack spoke in a low tone, now looking at them, and they obeyed without saying a word, this time both sitting in the direction of your ass, completely attentive.
you're fast asleep, having sweet dreams, like a date with your boyfriend, enjoying the moment and the calm around you... until you start to feel hot. And the plot begins to change. Your boyfriend starts looking at you differently, his eyes lowering to your lips, his hand getting closer and closer to your thigh. Your cheeks begin to burn, and you know what's coming.
in real life, Jack begins to lift your (his) shirt, exposing your sweet pussy, with traces of his cum staining your swollen lips. With his hands, he grabs your ass cheeks, parting them, massaging them, leaving his fingers marked by his strong grip.
Quinn begins to unbutton his pants, releasing his cock, which is slowly hardening. He wants to shove his cock into your ass, fuck you so hard that you can only scream, babble, tears streaming down your eyes as he takes you. The thought alone makes his blood heat up and his legs tense.
Luke touches his bulge through his pants, watching his brother's cum slide out of your hole a little more, and he remembers when he did the same thing, filling you with him. He wants to do it again. He wants to fill you so much, making you pregnant.
and you? you whimper in your sleep, enjoying how fake Jack places his hand between your legs, caressing your pussy while kissing your neck. It makes you rub unconsciously, enjoying it.
the real Jack takes one of his hands from your ass to bring it to your pussy, masturbating you with two of his fingers, running between your folds, playing with your still sensitive and swollen clit. He can feel his fluids dripping over his fingers, and you moan, moving as if you know what's happening, as if you know there are more people watching.
Quinn can't take his eyes off you, everyone can hear how hard and fast he pulls on his cock, thinking of so many things he could do to your body, without caring that you're his brother's girlfriend.
Luke decides to release his cock, big, veiny, and completely hard thanks to you, because of the wonderful view you're giving them.
your dream becomes more and more explicit, the fake Jack sliding his fingers so deep, while the real one rubs your clit faster and faster, moving his fingers in circles, slapping your pussy, making your juices squirt and wet everything.
you moan, moving faster and faster, more roughly, seeking your release, making Jack give you what you want, under the eyes of his brothers. And it's when you're about to cum that you wake up, dizzy, your vision blurred, your mind fogged, breathing heavily, your hole throbbing, your folds wet, and your boyfriend smiling.
you're confused, but you break into a moan when his fingers don't stop moving, torturing you. You say his name like a broken record, rubbing yourself against his bulge, your eyes fixed on him.
"Jack, i'm gonna..." your gasp interrupts you, and you rest your hands on his chest, moving faster and faster, your legs shaking. It was the best way to wake up.
it's then that he looks behind you and decides to speak, "come on, join us."
your eyes widen, but you can't straighten up because one of his hands is holding you still, pressed against his body. Then you feel a presence behind you, and warm, large hands grab your waist.
someone stands at the end of the couch, in front of your face, and when you look up, you find Luke, grinning, his cock out, almost touching your cheek.
"what?" you panic a little, wanting to back away, feeling so exposed, but they won't let you.
Jack's hands leave your body, and he begins to unbutton his pants, pulling them down with some difficulty, followed by his underwear. His cock is so hard and big.
it's then that you realize how lost you are, the compromising position, your dreams coming true, and you can't help but whimper, feeling like a whore, eager for his cocks, to be filled in every hole until you can't think of anything but sex.
you feel addicted, overwhelmed, your mind completely clouded, and you have no rational thought. You feel like you've been set up, but you can't even get angry about it.
refuse or let them use you? i think the answer is easier than you think.
one of your hands moves down to your boyfriend's cock, and your body rises slightly. You align his tip against your hole, which throbs, desperate to be filled. The hands on your waist force you down, sliding him into your tight walls until he bottoms out, drawing a moan from your throat.
your pussy was already sore, stretched, and you can feel it breaking again, making your poor walls ache. But at the same time, it's incredibly pleasurable, and you can't help but let whimpers escape your mouth.
Jack tries to move you, to get you used to it once more, knowing your body is still sore, but also knowing you need to cum, to release.
Quinn and Luke are patient, giving you time, but when you start moving on your own, jerking, making Jack's cock slide in faster and faster, they knew they could keep going.
Luke places his hand on your chin and forces you to look at him. Your neck aches, your eyes glassy, your lips reddish, and you see him, his big cock right in front of your face. You don't hesitate to open your mouth, ready for him, and he's quick slide in, slowly, inch by inch until you're choking. His tip touches so deep in your throat it makes you gag, and yet it doesn't come out, but instead begins to move. Your moans are dying now, vibrating against his skin.
your pussy welcomes your boyfriend eagerly, recognizing him, welcoming him home, molding to his size, suffocating him, your juices flying, and a ring of his old cum forming at its base.
Luke places one of his hands in your hair, and makes you swallow him deeper as he begins to move. You can feel it throbbing, how hot it is, and you try to calm the gags a little. You want to make him feel good. You wanna feel his cum going down your throat.
but someone's missing, waiting for you to feel comfortable, safe, calm. Someone waiting for your body to stop being tense, riding Jack's cock like it's the last time, while you swallow Luke's as if it's the last thing you could do.
Quinn was attentive, he waited, he analyzed, he let his cock reach its limit, and when the pain was unbearable, he decided he would use you.
and he won't be gentle, he won't be sweet.
you're a whore to them, so he's going to treat you like this.
with his hands, he spreads your ass cheeks. Your other hole is so tight, calling out to him. He knows you'll be so tight, that you'll take him so well. God, you're going to suffocate him. He'll never want to leave you again.
he adjusted himself, found a way to get comfortable, and then grabbed his cock, touching your hole with his tip. You almost panicked. You felt so full, so satisfied. You didn't think anything else could enter your body, but your mind was so foggy, your body so helpless. You couldn't say anything, just accept what was coming.
he began to slide in, sighing heavily, feeling the difference. You squeezed him so hard, it was hard to move, but he forced his way in, pushing his way in, expanding your walls brutally. And you screamed, moaning against Luke's cock, while you drool and fat tears fell down your cheeks, landing on Jack's face, who enjoyed it, feeling how you were even tighter now, so tense.
Quinn only gave you a couple of seconds, but then he started moving and it was rough, it was fast, making Jack's cock slide in faster than before. And you feel full, your holes aching, your throat strained. Your face is a mess, and your pussy is so soaked that juices are spurting out, staining everything.
your pussy is red, irritated, your ass is pink. You can't do anything, you can't control your movements, you just let them move, using you at their pace. You're like their doll, their toy.
they move faster, seeking their own release, and you're so lost in your sensations that you can't even warn them that the knot has formed inside you again, even stronger than before. Your legs spasm, your hands become fists, your belly aches and tingles, and when it happens, neither Quinn nor Jack can move, feeling you come.
from that moment on, you completely lose control, your jaw loosens, your body almost completely falling onto Jack's. You see colored dots, getting closer to losing consciousness, but you let them use you, let them continue. And you feel overstimulated, too full.
Luke is the first of the three to cum, filling your throat, making you choke, unable to breathe, just swallow and swallow. He tastes delicious to you, and when he removes his cock from your mouth, you unconsciously try to follow him, to get him back in you, which makes the three of them laugh at you.
he caresses your cheek, watching your eyes slowly close, and after locking eyes with Jack, he decides to place a small kiss on your lips, tasting his own flavor, making you whimper, receiving affection after a while.
with his kisses, he tries to distract you, to make you feel warm, but they're destroying you, giving you no rest, hammering inside you, as if they're competing to see who will leave you unable to walk. Like they're competing to own your body, and their egos are so big that they won't rest until they're done with that fight.
your clit rubs against Jack's body again and again, and when another knot forms inside you, you have to pull away from Luke's mouth, crying, begging them to have mercy, to stop for a moment. They pay no attention, and you reach your limit once more, closing your eyes tightly. Then they both cum inside you, at the same time, filling you with thick white strips, each claiming a hole, filling you so much.
you're swollen, irritated, and your vision so blurry and dark that you're not surprised when your entire body collapses, causing you to fall completely on top of Jack, battling between consciousness and unconsciousness, your breathing heavy, but feeling incredibly satisfied.
you've dreamed about this a thousand times since what happened, but you never thought you'd feel this good. You don't think you can stop after this. You need them like you need breathing.
can Jack learn to share long-term? you used to be just his girl, and he doesn't like the way Luke keeps looking at you with hearts in his eyes, while Quinn refuses to come out of you, challenging him with his gaze.
hear me out on -> luke not realizing how attractive it is to see his pretty girl in slacks, her shirt’s long sleeves rolled up to her elbows, manspreading on the deck like it’s no one’s business, and him just standing there after an annoying briefing with the rebellion on the andromeda like “holy shit” because we all know he’s a worshipper when it comes to sweet girl
bonus points when he gets on his knees to eat it later 🤷🏻♀️
When talking about Sith!Luke in the past, I always used to base my headcanons on RotJ Luke, since his slightly more withdrawn and mysterious demeanor, as opposed to his character in the very beginning of A New Hope for example, better fit the (concerning and unhealthy) narratives I wanted to create.
But THEN, recently, it hit me. And it's so simple, really. I don't need a serious persona for that!
Hear me out:
✨️Sunshine Sith!Luke✨️
• imagine Sith!Luke...but vibrant
• brimming with a power stifling like the heat in summer and blinding like a sun
• not a stoic and cold young man but someone dangerously excitable and passionate
• mostly about morally questionable things
• (the wrong things some might say)
• but spirited and light-hearted nevertheless
• a little bit whiny, a little bit impatient (very impatient)
• bubbly
• sensitive
• clingy
• carefree by default
• eager for new experiences and the unknown
• an overwhelming presence in all aspects
• loved by his family and deeply feared by everyone else
• possibly the most spoiled person to ever exist across entire galaxies
• and then, with growing age, add to that a terrifying amount of entitlement and potency
• he never hesitated to loudly voice his desires before, to demand to be seen and/or heard
• now that he is older he doesn't ask for anything anymore
• his privileged and meticulous upbringing has taught him to command those around him and act on his wishes
• maybe a bit too well
• he's a menace
• no longer does he go to such lengths as to wait for his father's approval on his actions
• entire solar systems are his playground throughout his youth and young adulthood
• he gets away with it
• with everything
• nations sit by and watch as it slowly becomes apparent over the years that even if he occasionally interrupts or crosses his father's plans...
• ...nothing substantial happens
• Vader doesn't reign him in, doesn't enforce consequences or retaliates
• naturally people talk
• even under the Empire's reign the speculations and gossip can't be depleted completely
• and what started as a fearful whisper here, and a maliciously gleeful claim there, slowly but surely evolves into a widespread belief
• the Emperor's son, Luke Skywalker, has surpassed his father in both power and strength
• Vader is as helpless against him as is everyone else
• it makes sense, explain the self-proclaimed experts, that even he knows it to be unwise to have his not-entirely-human, eldritch horror children turn against him
• he would not have a chance against their joined wrath, they insist
• not anymore
• (alternatively Vader just really loves his son and there IS a heart beating somewhere beneath that black cloak of his)
• of course nobody is ever truly able to tell whether any of this is actually true
• the Skywalker family always presents as a unified front, unbreachable and unwavering in every aspect
• what freaks people out the most about Luke though, is the stark difference between him and...basically everyone else in his immediate environment
• something about him, especially in direct comparison to Vader or his sister, is immensely unsettling
• (more so than they already are to begin with)
• not only to his enemies but to the Imperial staff as well
• imagine you're just a simple guy, trying to do your job
• maybe you're new, a recent hire
• and suddenly you run into either of the Skywalker family
• you'd be stressed, of course, because who wouldn't be
• but there is some comfort in predictability
• and Vader, for example, is predictably cruel in a way everyone is uncomfortably familiar with
• Luke isn't
• not always
• he enters a room shrouded in black like his father, death incarnate
• (of course this version of Luke is impeccably dressed as well)
• (he's featured in most galaxies equivalent of the Vogue. His role as the heir to the Imperial throne is merely an unimportant side factor to those who appreciate and celebrate the heights of fashion)
• and then he allows his hood to fall away to reveal his face
• and positively beams
• his smile is genuine
• beautiful even
• but somehow it's a little bit too bright
• sometimes it makes his eyes gleam in a way that tends to be subtly offsetting
• uncanny, in a way
• no one is able to really interpret its quickly shifting meanings accurately
• is he laughing about a joke or about to crush you like a cheap soda can?
• are you going to end up as his personal jester, an entertainment source for the foreseeable future, because he thinks you amuseable?
• is he planning to feed you to the new pet he recently acquired?
• does he want to bed you?
• no one knows
• certainly not you or anyone else
• probably not even himself
• Luke goes with the flow
• he's a man who appreciates good opportunities
• please him a little too much and you may find yourself in situations you'd rather avoid
• the same can be said for the opposite
• his smile, however, will not waver
• it's multipurpose!
• it can convey charm, amusement, delight, wonder,...
• but tips into madness as easily and quickly as he is able to murder you in cold blood
• more often than not it makes him look slightly insane
• unhinged
• often during battles and in anger it's like his face disappears and in its place steps a grotesquely contorted mask
