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: Quinn is a man who wants. He wants and he gets, at least if his girlfriend has any say in it. She gives him anything even without asking, especially when it comes to her body.
Themes/warnings: Smut (oral, vaginal & anal), possessive/never heard the word no in his life!Quinn, submissive!reader
Word count: 1.8k
Quinn knows it's obsessive to see anything possible as a threat to losing y/n.
But just the thought of her not being entirely his, committed to him in every way he asks of her. That's the perfect thing about y/n though, she gives herself to him in every way.
Quinn sucks in a breath as he runs his hand over y/n's exposed skin.
Marks of his constant need for her litter her body.
Quinn's teeth bite into her nipple earning a hiss but she's wiser than to try and pull back from him.
"I want all of you." Quinn whispers and y/n knows exactly what he means by that.
They're still fairly early in their relationship but Quinn's been possessive and controlling since day one. Y/n was never mistaken in what she was signing up for, the transparency of what he'd want and how he'd always been was more than apparent.
"I want to feel your mouth." Quinn states making y/n swallow thickly, lip bitten she slides up onto her knees while he rolls to sit back, the black of his eyes blown so big that y/n feels like she could fall into them. But she's instead leans down feeling his hands gathering her hair into his grip.
Y/n takes the tip on her tongue, swirling around like she takes full joy in it. Which in a lot of ways, Quinn has trained her to. She does get pleasure from feeling him.
"That's it." Quinn groans gripping her hair with enough tightness that her scalp stings a little from the pull but she doesn't fight him. To her she feels like she they move as one with each other. Quinn feels like he's claiming her as his again and again.
She can taste the pre-cum begin to drip into her mouth before Quinn grunts pulling her up.
"Lie down, baby." Quinn instructs making her move quickly to lie as he sighs at the sight of her laid out in front of him. Bruises, hand marks, bites, all evidenced on her skin that he's there constantly on her. Constantly wanting to leave proof that she's his.
There's a gem between her ass cheeks, prep for how he wants to finish. It took no convincing, just assurance that he'd make sure she enjoyed it and though he could see the hesitation in her eyes. She didn't let it get any further.
"Please, Quinn." Y/n whines practically thrust her hips in the air at the lack of touched.
"Ok, baby." Quinn chuckles, amused by her impatience. Sometimes he does begin to worry his slightly harsher treatment of her might risk but he's not going to point out his own toxic behaviour to the young woman who is just begging for him.
Quinn slides his dick against her pussy, pressing onto her clit pushing a whine from her before he pulls back. His tip is against her all of a second then he's slammed into her making her cry out loudly.
"You're always so ready for me." Quinn praises in a ragged inhale.
He needs to temper himself. Last as long as he can to make it last.
"This is mine, isn't it baby? You're mine."
"I'm yours." Y/n pants before she swallows thickly, the familiar desperation in her voice just feeding something in Quinns soul that absolutely feeds off of her.
Y/n is so caught up in the feeling of his thrusts and just the fullness of him fitting inside her so perfectly. Their movements to in time it's like they know each other's bodies without even thinking about it.
The feeling of the push and drag of his length makes her feel almost dizzy with rushes of pleasure. Her orgasm strikes with basically no real warning for either of them. Quinn is torn between relishing in the spasming walls around him and pulling out to save his finish. In the end he chooses the latter feeling like he's almost feels her clamped down around him so tightly that it makes him grimace.
But he does push his fingers into his place, thrusting his digits in and out of her while she chokes out a moan, thigh clamping on his arm when his thumb presses harshly into her clit making her squirt on his hand with her jaw completely slack in a silent moan as her hips keep rolling into trying to ride it out while he smiles.
He can't stop himself from roughly pushing her legs apart with force which makes y/n choke a little on her breath when his teeth find the tender flesh of her inner thigh.
His fingers have found that gem nestled in her ass. Her skin around it saturated in her own juices which is exactly what he wanted for this.
The amount of times he's came down her throat or filled her pussy till she's overflowing with his cum is countless. He has plans to make sure she's leaking from everywhere.
But today has been a build up to finally claiming her in all the ways he can.
"Turn over baby." Quinn instruct with a voice like gravel that makes goosebumps rising over her sweat coated skin before she rolls onto her front, letting out a long breath at the brief respite and just mentally preparing herself for this.
Y/n trusts Quinn, though some people have insisted she shouldn't after seeing the excessive marks up and down her body, she knows he'd never actually set out to hurt her. He just wants her to feel that she belongs to him everywhere he can possibly reach.
She jumps feeling him smack her ass, hard enough to sting but it only sends sparks around her stomach as she moans while he lifts her up onto her knees giving himself a full display of her. That's when she feels her nerves over actually doing anal kick up a bit.
The effort she's put in for this to be as painless and easy was meticulous. Everything she'd done was researched for hours and even prep took a couple hours ahead of this. She wanted it to be perfect for him, like she always does.
He teases the plug that he'd put in earlier while y/n's fists tighten on the sheets to avoid the rest of her body tensing as he gives the plug more of a pull and it gently slides out of her.
His thumb brushes over her asshole as she tries to decide if she wants more of that feeling or wants to pull away and change her mind. Not that she would, if Quinn wants it then she doesn't think it's an option to not give him something.
"Don't be nervous, baby." Quinn soothes making her nod a little. "Words."
"I'm not nervous. I want you." I mumbles knowing he wouldn't have stopped poking for her to keep going without her verbally giving him the assurance. Though they'd have been waiting all night till she swallows.
Y/n closes her eyes as she listens to him, the sound of his hand up and down his own length before he shifts and positions himself behind her.
He doesn't stop again to ask, he doesn't pause for more than a second as he presses into her. The lube that she'd generously put around her ass doing the lord's work as she feels him pop into her and slide about half way. Y/n is so focused on her breathing and remaining relaxed that she takes a moment to feel just how full she feels from the sensation.
"Baby, you're so tight." Quinn groans his hands moving up from holding her ass to gently moving up her back, the softness of his touch making her move back against him. Pushing him further into herself and earning a groan.
It's not exactly comfortable, or pleasurable, though she knows done correctly it can be. She's not really feeling that off the bat. The stretch around him is stinging and burning a little, but it's bearable. No worse than when he's a little feral fucking her pussy. He's not even moved yet from her having pushed him further into herself.
But then he does start moving and she jumps at the feeling, almost reaching her hand back to stop him. She knows better than to try that.
Instead she tightens her grip on the sheets, not caring if they threaten to rip the fabric. He makes his initial thrust slow and minimal, just getting her used to the feeling but it works to an extent. She's gets used to the feeling, but she's definitely not enjoying it the way he is as he moans behind her.
Y/n does begin to move with his thrusts, hoping that maybe she'll start enjoying it and to a degree it does start to feel nicer. Maybe not going as far as to say nice or good. But definitely better.
Y/n does grimace a little when he gets a little faster and rougher, not hurting her per se but bringing back some discomfort though the feeling of his balls hitting her pussy makes her twitch in jealous, still sensitive from her earlier orgasm.
The heat of Quinn spilling into her, grinding against her makes a shiver of satisfaction shoot up her spine. Knowing she made him feel that good and she sort of share the sentiment of him claiming her in however many ways he can.
"Fuck, you feel so good." Quinn pants leaning his body over her to kiss her neck before he moves back and pulls out, holding her cheeks to enjoy the sight of her fluttering. His cum pooled inside her making him groan before he slaps her ass watching her jump at the sudden stimulation.
He lies down next to her, his eyes trained on her while she slowly slides her legs to lie flat looking back at him for a beat before she's moved over to him and cuddled into him.
"I'm tired." Y/n mumbles earning a small chuckle. "But I need to clean up."
"That can wait." Quinn dismisses, not really wanting his efforts to be undone so quickly as he hooks her closest leg up and hikes it over himself to pull her closer. "I'm gonna have to think of more ways to make you mine."
"I'm yours. In every way you want me." Y/n states without thinking holding onto him more tightly.
She's truly not sure what more she can give to him. But she has thought that before and he found more things to demand of her.
"Get some sleep baby." Quinn instructs softly before kissing the top of her head.
Thinking about how I would 1000% let Quinn baby trap me…😅
꒰ ♡ notes ♡ ꒱ > I'd pay good money to see him be so damn confused and blindsided lmao.
꒰ ♡ warnings ♡ ꒱ > dark fic content. dark!quinn. A tiny bit. You sabotage your own birth control. Condoms are clearly designed to have holes. Cycle tracking. You make him more smothering and give him a crown for it.
He would think he’s a genius— one with a foolproof master plan. Every detail planned out. Weeks spent detailing every scenario and consequence in his notes app. Your cycle tracked with an app. Your birth control swapped.
You’re the one who planted the seeds in his brain— your legs locking around his ass, holding him hostage inside you. Clenching around him as if you’re trying to convince his dick. Moaning praise into his skin. Making him feel big, making him feel in control.
You’re the one who swapped your pills first— you know he wouldn’t realise, wouldn’t have examined the actual pills, wouldn’t have had reason to.
If you weren’t in on it, it'd be laughable— he’s too obvious. His gaze locked on your mouth every time you take one. A gulp of slight panic that he can’t hide— so nervous that you’ll think something’s wrong with the taste, the texture.
So much of his focus dialled on you, obvious to the checkmate danger lurking at every corner. You’ve planned this. He’s just playing into you, unknowingly sacrificing his pawns to slaughter.
He doesn’t check his condoms. A rookie error. Even after catching you riffling through them, he’d never suspect you. Thinking you’re just keeping him stocked up, looking after him in a way that only solidifies his own plan. The thought of your confusion and planned panic an aphrodisiac.
He doesn’t know you’re editing his own notes— taking advantage of the sheer exhaustion crashing over him to make him doubt what he’s written himself. He doesn't think anything of your smile stretching wider with every confused shake of his head, so convinced that you’re just love drunk on him. Innocent. Wouldn’t suspect that you’d ever even touch his phone.
You drop hints around him— anything to help his little pet project. Helping him track your own cycle with information drops— natural enough to let him believe that he’s being observant. Symptoms, warning signs. You send him research articles under the guise of loving how supportive and caring he is. Showering him with praise and affection to drag him down with you.
You stop drinking, making a song and dance of it. A double pin plan— you need to be safe for the baby, plus it drives his concern for you up. His smothering escalating. Spending more time with you, tracking you more. Watching over you. Playing house. Practice for how he’ll look after you when the plan comes together— a test.
You manipulate his search history, his recommended adverts. He wouldn't find any suspicion with them being replaced with baby clothes ads, parenting tips, and birth control failure research. He’d just think he’s being given the golden ticket to a perfect excuse for you, when you’re locked to him.
a/n: okay so I know that I said I wasn’t gonna write for Quinn anymore, for obvious reasons. I just couldn’t pass this idea up, @jackxhuggy-lover had this delicious thought that I kinda ran wild with (thank you so much pookie😘). I wanna say LOUDLY that this isn’t me condoning anything he or anybody on the team did, I’m still a hater, I simply just used his face claim (is what I’m telling myself to not cry) plus I don’t think he’d ever actually act like this so it’s basically a made up man! So with that being said, I warned yall and if you don’t like it, don’t read it!
Pairing: Quinn Hughes x fem!reader
Word count: a whopping 5k!
Warning: fem reader, smut!, mentions of *that* video, p in v, slight spitting kink, slight ‘dark Quinn’, maybe some inaccuracy’s.
=======================================
Watching Jack go one-on-one with McDavid for the overtime goal, time slows as you watch the puck go off his stick and into the net. It feels like your heart physically slows down, and everything around you goes silent. Before you can even process what just happened, you’re being dragged to your feet by Luke, and he’s pulling you into a tight hug. Everyone around you is screaming. As you look back at the TV, you can see all of Team USA jump off the bench and rush to tackle Jack.
No one is more excited than your boyfriend Quinn, the first one to tackle his brother in what can only be described as a bear hug. Tears are streaming down your face as a plethora of emotions overwhelm you, joy being the driving force, and jealousy because you weren’t actually able to be in Milan to celebrate Quinn.
You text Quinn immediately, even though you’re sure he won’t be checking his phone any time soon. You and Luke sit through the medal ceremony, smiling ear to ear and making little jokes about them getting handed stuffed animals. When the camera pans to Quinn, and you actually get to see how insanely happy he is, it makes you want to cry. He’s been working his whole life for this moment, and it makes you sad that you didn’t get to truly experience this moment with him.
Luke senses the tension in the air, he puts his hand on your shoulder, “You know he knows you would have been there with him if you could.” Even though he means well and you want it to help, it just doesn’t. You and Quinn have been together since his second year in the league, through the ups and downs, the captaincy, the trade to Minnesota, and everything in between. It feels like you disappointed him the minute you told him that you wouldn’t be able to go with him; you watched the light flicker in his eyes.
You open your mouth to reply to him, when your phone goes off, My Huggy Bear🐻, it’s only been 30 minutes since the ceremony. You answer the phone, “Quinny, oh my god, I can not believe you just did that!” You can hear yelling and cheering in the background, “baby I couldn’t have done this without you!”
You chuckle because you can already hear the slight slur to his words and the way he doesn’t even mention the game. You can hear Brock in the background as he and the rest of the team must be planning something crazy for the night. He must have moved to a quieter area because the noise seems to fade out.
“The first thing I did when that goal went in was think about how we’d be celebrating the win.” He tells you now that he feels he can be more vulnerable.
That thought alone makes you want to cry, “Quinny, I’m so sorry I can’t be there with you; it hurts me so bad not being able to hug you.” You can hear him sniffle a little and move slightly; you know that line hit him deeper than you intended. You didn’t mean to bum him out in his special moment; you just needed him to know that you really wanted to be with him.
You decide to let him go party with the team after being on the phone for 20 minutes at that point. “Tell Jack I said that he can finally call himself the goat now! I love you so much, baby, and I have a surprise waiting when you get home!” He laughs, says his goodbyes, and hangs up the phone. You see Luke walk back into the room, asking him if he wants to rewatch all the Twilight movies with you, “You’re not worried about him and Jack all alone in Milan?”
“Why would I be worried, Lukey?” You ask him, giggling.
He just gives you a dead look “ alllll aloneeee.. partyingggg .. in Milannnn.”
All you can manage is a side eye, “ I mean, how much trouble could they really get into?”
He lets out a little laugh and turns back to put the first Twilight movie on. You hate to admit that his words really did irk you more than they should have. You trust Quinn with your life, and you’d like to think he would never even think about cheating on you.
Deep in your heart, you hope that’s not what Luke meant, that he maybe knew something you didn’t. You push those thoughts to the side because the way that Quinn was talking on the phone, no doubt, he’d be passed out in the next 2 hours, knowing he was such a lightweight. You and Luke snuggle up on the couch with your favorite snacks and get ready to make fun of all the cheesy lines for the 100th time.
—------------
Waking up to your phone being flooded with messages on every last one of your platforms was to be expected, because of course, people would want to send you reels and pictures of your amazing boyfriend, right?
What you didn’t expect to see were screenshots and links to all types of disgusting videos that your boyfriend was front and center in. You shot up from the guest bed in Luke and Jack’s apartment, trying to rub your eyes, to get a better look.
It made you sick, made you want to cry, you’ve never felt these emotions towards Quinn, and it made you so frustrated. You couldn’t look at the video anymore without wanting to throw up. You check your messages, and it’s not much better; your friends, your parents, your siblings, all freaking out and asking if you’ve heard the news. With all the emotions running through you, you don’t even feel like responding right now.
You get up out of bed, heading to the living room. “Luke! Please tell me you’ve seen the video?” you yell out.
You find him sitting at the kitchen island, like he just saw a ghost, “Luke?” you question.
The boy who you’ve come to know who never shuts up, even in the most tense of times, has gone silent.
You moving in front of him is what makes him finally look up at you.
“I can’t believe they would laugh like that.” More talking to himself than to you.
You sit on the chair in front of him, with a huff, the silence and sadness evident on both of your faces. “Has Quinn texted you yet?” he slowly asks, almost as if he’s nervous to hear the answer. “I haven’t even checked.” You scoff and let out a small laugh.
You look down at your phone, 9:36 am, you know that Quinn is awake because he can never manage to sleep in even on his off days. You put your phone on do not disturb, and go to your messages, My Huggy Bear 🐻, the most recent message appearing from the man himself. You’re honestly terrified to open it. Once you do, it reads, ‘I know it looks bad, I am so sorry that it got this big. I promise I’ll make it right!’ That calms you a tiny bit, still so upset, not sure how to even reply. You read it out to Luke, and he lets out a sigh.
“I don’t know how they’re getting out of that one.” He replies
You know Quinn is a smart man; he has to know what to do, right?
Going on Twitter and Instagram makes you so sick; the hate is enough to make you want to delete the apps altogether. Knowing that the team deserves to be held accountable, and hoping that they all apologize immediately.
You just want Quinn to come home and make this mess go away, you’re so frustrated with the whole team but mostly Quinn and Jack.
You decide to reply ‘I know, I trust you, Quinn.’ Setting your phone down.
If you could see the look on Quinn’s face, his whole life just got flipped upside down, and he can feel the disappointment through the screen with that text. He doesn’t know how to feel right now, ashamed, humiliated, embarrassed. He knows you’re mad because you never call him by his real name. He knows you have a right to be mad, what he did was terrible. He just wants to get home and make it up to you, to make sure you’re not mad at him anymore.
———-
While you and Luke are out to grab lunch, before you get on your flight back to Minnesota, you talk about how upset and frustrated you are with the whole situation. He agrees and while he takes a sip of his drink you see a devious grin appear on his face, “You should get back at him.” He shrugs, like it’s no big deal.
You stare back at him like he’s insane.
“What do you mean ‘get back at him’?” You question.
“I mean, make him feel the way you feel. Make him mad.” He chuckles.
“It’s not the same feeling, Luke, you know that.” You roll your eyes, trying to change the subject.
He can see the wheels turning in your head, you’re debating it. “If I were to, ya know, get back at him… how would I do it?” You look over at him shyly.
“Oh don’t worry I got a plan.” He full on laughs this time.
————
The plane ride home feels awful for Quinn, it’s filled with anxiety, dread, and to top it all off he’s still nursing a headache from how much he drank. He lands back in Minnesota, checking the time, 10:47 pm.
He wonders if you’re still awake, waiting for him to return home after almost a month. He wouldn’t judge you if you went to bed early. He remembers how you told him you had a surprise waiting for him when he got home, before the night turned into a blur. The drive home is silent, nothing but his own thoughts dragging on. He walks out of the elevator, to the door of your guys’ apartment, half hoping to walk in to you holding a sign or balloons, wearing a special set you know he loves.
He’s not shocked when he walks into a silent apartment. Lights all off, except for the light above the stove. He drops his bags, leaves his shoes by the door and walks deeper into the living room, he doesn’t find you on the couch where you usually wait for him.
Making his way towards your shared room, he opens the door, to find you lying on the bed, asleep, with the TV softly playing in the background. Nothing surprises him more than what you’re wearing.
Luke’s jersey covers your body, he can tell it’s the only thing that you’re wearing. He doesn’t even know where you would get Luke’s jersey. You only had his personal game worn ones that you specifically asked for. That makes him question if what you’re wearing is one that Luke had worn. That makes him feel even worse.
He sits on the edge of the bed, stirring you awake.
As you turn, rubbing your eyes, trying to get a better look at Quinn. He doesn’t look back at you, you smile because you know your plan is working already. You get on your knees and inch closer to him, making sure to wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind, showing off the black and white sleeves of the jersey. You leave kisses by his ear, trailing down his jaw,
“How was your flight, Quinny?” You taunt him.
Rubbing your hands down his chest, he doesn’t know how to respond.
“It was long and exhausting.” He chooses to go for the short answer. Testing out the waters. Confused as to why you haven’t asked about the situation, and instead, being all touchy when he thought you were mad at him.
It’s not that you’ve forgotten or forgiven him. You’re just simply, in the words of Luke, ‘getting him back’.
You move to get off the bed and stand in front of Quinn. He thinks you might grab his ‘surprise’, but he knows better than that. As you stand in front of him, looking down into his eyes, you run your fingers through his hair. He can’t seem to meet your gaze; his eyes can’t look away from the Devils logo that sits on your chest. He hates it.
He places his hands on your hips and squeezes tight. Dragging you in towards himself, he lifts the jersey up past your hips. Getting his answer that you are indeed not wearing anything else underneath, that makes him throw his head back. You let out a giggle, momentarily forgetting why you’re even wearing this jersey to begin with.
“What’s the matter quinny?” You tease him while moving your hands to his cheeks to make him look at you.
He finally asks the dreaded question, “Why’re you wearing Luke’s jersey, baby?”
You really don’t know how to respond other than pushing him back onto the bed and climbing onto his lap. Quinn lets you shove him back, not sure of where your plan is going. As soon as your legs are on either side of his hips, he’s got his hands on your ass, gripping so tight it pushes you forward slightly. Your hands land on his chest, and your hair falls in his face, making you chuckle.
You let out a breathless “f-fuck quinny,” forgetting that you haven’t felt his touch in almost a month. This was going to be harder than you thought.
You feel his hands roam from your ass to the back of your head, making you lean down, giving into his wishes to kiss him for the first time since he got home. You moan into the kiss, his hands continue to travel down your body, finally making their way to your tits. His hands land on you, sitting up straight, when you feel his fingers graze over your nipples through the jersey.
As he is looking up at you, he wants to let you be in control and take the lead. It’s just not in his nature, and you know that. You can see the look in his eyes; he’s fighting his needs, trying to let you have your way.
The next thing you know, you’re being flipped over, and you’re looking up at him now. Still a little stunned, you let out a small moan as Quinn starts to kiss along your jaw, moving down your neck, towards your boobs. Moving your hands back to his hair, tugging lightly on his overgrown curls,
“Quinny, baby, please.” You let out in one quick breath, tired of the teasing.
“What’s the matter, baby? I thought you liked it.” He chuckles.
Making you let out a whine and throw your head back.
Continuing his trail of kisses, he finds his way to your tits, and he moves his hands from your hips, pushing the jersey up and over your head.
“Let’s just get rid of this thing,” he removes it with pure jealousy, which he can’t hide anymore.
“Don’t be rude, Quinny.” You joke as he tosses it on the floor.
Once the jersey’s off, he can finally get back to teasing your hardened nipples. He gives your tits a quick squeeze, admiring them, before he dips his head down to your left boob and kisses softly. Moving inward until he gets his mouth around your nipple, gently sucking, making you gasp out. He’s got one hand gripping your other boob, and the other is roaming down your ribcage to settle on your thigh, moving your leg to sit around his hip. You can feel the weight of him pressing against your core. The only barrier between you is his jeans. You remove your hands from his hair and move them down his chest to try to get a better feel of him.
Still playing with your tits, he’s like a dog with a bone. You let out a little giggle when you feel him trying to hump you slowly. Like he can’t help himself, he hasn’t been able to touch you for 3 whole weeks. You lower your hands to the button of his jeans, and he senses your touch, moving back from your tits, you see the fucked out look in his eyes already. He’s breathing out heavily; he can tell you’re struggling to unbutton his jeans, so he sits back on his knees, takes off his shirt, and moves down to take off his pants.
Once he’s completely bare, sitting in front of you, you can’t help but sit up and loop your finger around his chain, dragging him back down with you. Smashing your lips into his with a hunger you didn’t realize you had. Quinn’s leaning over you, hands on both sides of your head, nose to nose with him; the moment is so intimate.
“I missed you so much, I thought about you every day, I really don’t think I could have stayed out there any longer, baby.” The soft statement almost makes you forget the mistake he made, the reason you even put that Devils jersey on.
“Please, let me make it up to you.” The look in his eyes makes you cave slightly.
All you can manage is a light nod.
He kisses you one last time before he moves down your body.
He kisses a trail all the way from your neck to right above your pussy. He slows his actions down when his face is right in front of your core. His hands are on both of your thighs, leaving you spread open, waiting for him to give you even just the slightest touch. He leans in, admiring, like a starved man; you can feel his breath fanning over you. He takes both of his hands, using both thumbs to spread you apart. He can see you dripping all for him. It makes him smirk. He blows on your clit, making you clench around nothing, and he looks back up to you, loving the reaction he got from barely even touching you.
You move to sit up on your elbows to get a better view of him. He glances back at you before he takes his middle finger and drags it from your clit, down, circling your entrance, before sliding it inside.
Whining out and clenching around his finger like it’s the first time he’s done this, your hand shoots to his hair. Forcing his head closer, trying to get him to do more. He lets out that stupid chuckle of his because he knows he’s got you right where he wants you now. You groan and toss your head back, “What’s wrong, baby?” He questions as he continues to thrust his finger in and out of you at a slow pace. You can’t form words when his tongue hits your clit, you arch up into him, trying to feel even more. It sends a shock through your body when you feel his lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently, your legs try to close around his head to trap him. His unoccupied hand shoots out to grab your thigh to keep you spread. He adds another finger to throw you off balance; the only sounds that can be heard are your whines and pants, and he switches between fast and slow thrusts.
“Quinny more.. Please, f-fuck..” You manage to squeak out as he slows down a tiny bit.
You feel the vibrations of his humming response run through your clit.
Once you get the strength to look down at him, you see that he’s humping the bed like a man on a mission. Your fingers running through his hair, gripping tightly, trying to stay grounded as he slips his fingers out of your pussy. Bringing them up to your clit, rubbing side to side so fast you think you’re seeing stars. He jumps up to sit back on his knees. You cry out as he stops his motions out of nowhere. You look down at him from your position, and you see him take his cock in his hand, slowly pumping up and down.
“Quinny, please need it so bad, baby.” You pant out,
He leans in close, taking his cock, sliding it through your folds, collecting the wetness pooling between your thighs. He throws his head back and groans, his hand landing on your thigh to steady him.
“s-shit, baby, whose pussy is this?” His voice cracks slightly.
You love it when he gets like this. He’s barely touched you, and he’s already fucked out.
You know it’s terrible, but you feel the need to tease him in that moment, “Lukey baby.” The minute the words leave your mouth, you know the switch in him is switched. He stops rubbing, looks up at you through his wild hair, and says, “What did you just say?” He’s shocked. Doesn’t know what to think. You try to play it cool, “What are you talking about, baby?” You ask, trying not to grin.
“Flip over. Ass up.” He pauses for a split second.
“Now.” His tone was devoid of emotion.
You don’t waste any time, rolling over and arching your back the way you know he likes. You feel him run his hands along your spine. Gripping your hips with a force, he pulls you back against him. You can feel his cock rub against your folds. You let out a little breath, waiting for him to slide in, hiding your smile. You feel a harsh slap against your ass, forcing you to jump forward slightly, letting out a little squeak. He pulls you back, “Don’t run now, baby, nowhere to hide anymore,” he taunts. You let out a huff of air, trying to regain some control. He chuckles when he feels you try to push back against him, hoping to tease him.
He grips his cock again, nudging it against your clit, “h-holy shit q-quinny.” Your eyes roll back as he continues to tease you, the tip of his cock snags at your entrance, and he is still trying to decide if he should keep teasing you or just fuck you. You don’t give him the option, pushing back on him, bottoming out. The stretch has you moaning out loudly; you forgot just how thick he was, and it almost has you wishing he had prepped you a little more. Quinn gives you a minute to adjust before you start to move your hips at your own pace.
That’s the signal that has Quinn meeting your thrusts with a force; that first thrust has you jolting forward, and he has to grip your hips to steady you. You know that you’re going to have bruises in the morning, you give up trying to meet his thrust and let him do the work. You feel his hand in the middle of your back, making you arch deeper, and he hits a spot inside that makes you cry out. You reach out blindly behind you, begging for his hand or arm for balance. He grabs your arm, placing it at the small of your back so you can’t move it anymore. Your other hand is gripping the sheets, and when he looks down at your face, he can see the drool spilling out of your mouth.
The sounds of your skin slapping against each other is all that can be heard, he asks again, “Whose” thrust. “Pussy” thrust. “Is” thrust. “This?” he’s not gentle with his force. He wants an answer.
When you don’t answer right away, his thrusts stop.
“q-quinny, please don’t stop.” You slur out.
“I asked you a question, baby.” He reaches his hand down to your clit.
“Mmmh, f-fuck quinny..” you whine out as his fingers press down on you, making you stutter forward.
“Still waiting on that answer, I got all night, baby.” He goes back to taunting you.
“It’s yours, Quinn, a-all yours, I-im sorry, baby.” You can’t take the teasing anymore.
He slows his motions on your clit, “Oh, because I thought you said it belonged to Luke?” he says as he slaps your ass with his other hand.
“O-oh fuck, it was a joke quinny I promise!” A tiny smile slips out.
He starts his thrusting again, liking the answer he heard. You let a sigh of relief out, knowing that you're close and he won’t be able to stop after feeling your walls tighten around him. His pace quickens, his control slipping with every thrust, his groans slipping closer together. You clench around him, and his hips stutter. You feel his body fold over yours, his arms coming to support him on either side of your head. You reach out and grab his arm to ground yourself, and you can feel his chain hitting the back of your neck. Dropping down to his elbows, he presses his body weight against your back, careful not to completely squish you. He grips your jaw with one of his hands, forcing you to look into his eyes, and he leans in to kiss you, surprisingly gentle.
Between kisses he manages to groan out, “You’re mine. Don’t ever question that.”
Before you can even get a word out he spits in your mouth, telling you to swallow it. You’re so fucked out, you whine out, ready to do whatever he tells you. His thrusts are getting sloppy and you know he’s close. He rests his head on your shoulder, you reach up to grip his hair. His thrusts are deeper and slower as he’s trying to reach his peak. You can feel him panting against your shoulder, you don’t remember when but his other hand I somehow made its way to your clit and he can tell by the way you’re squeezing around him, you’re close too.
“S-shit quinny,” you tug at his hair tighter.
Clenching impossibly tight around him, “don’t stop, please don’t stop,” breathing out heavily.
“I got you, baby,” he says.
Before you can even get the words out you’re letting out one final yell of his name before you’re tightening around him, dropping your head forward, and your hips jerking.
He stalls for half a second before he speeds up his thrusts, needing to fill you up.
Quinn doesn’t think he could pull out even if he wanted to, you’re clenching him so tight, he never wants to leave. His fingers don’t stop moving on your clit, making your hips jerk even more he had you whining out,
“Oh my god, quinny don’t stop!” Your head still laying flat against the sheets.
His hips keep up the same harsh pace, chasing his high. After a particularly deep thrust he has you clenching around him again. Sending him over the edge, his last thrust stutters, you feel him biting down on your shoulder.
“F-fuck y/n,” he stutters out, slamming into you one last time.
You feel his come spill deep in your walls, all his weight drops onto you in that moment. He’s panting against you, hips jerking trying to get every last drop out. Your grip on his hair loosens as your hand drops, after a couple of seconds he begins leaving little kisses on your skin,
“I really did miss you like crazy, baby.” He admits.
You let out a giggle, “I kinda figured, quinny.” You smile over your shoulder.
He kisses your cheek one last time before he slowly rises back to his knees. He looks down as he pulls out, watching come drip out of your pussy, it takes everything in him not to slide his fingers through your folds just to push it back in. You try to roll back over on your back until he stops you, and does it for you. That’s when he finally gets a chance to really look at you for the first time since he got home, he just smiles and chuckles.
“What’s so funny, quinny?” You ask.
“I just missed you, wanted you there with me.” He shrugs, getting off the bed and heading towards the bathroom.
Your smile fades a little, when he steps back into the bedroom with a washcloth and a glass of water, you try to pretend like his words didn’t affect you, but he can tell. Quinn can read you like the back of his hand,
“I don’t blame you by the way, you’ve been here for every step of my journey, put up with all my shit, missing one thing isn’t the end of the world.” He says making you feel a tiny bit better.
“It wasn’t ’just one thing’ Quinn.” You argue back.
“It was probably the biggest moment of your career and I spent it sitting at home on the couch, with Luke!” You add, throwing your hands in the air.
“Shhh, there’s still the Stanley cup,” he shrugs like it’s nothing.
Cleaning you up and making you drink some water, he throws the cloth in the hamper and turns on the TV. He grabs you one of his old t-shirts, walking past the jersey on he threw on the floor, sitting in his spot on the bed,
“That wasn’t a game worn jersey right?” He asks as he’s flicking through the channels.
You side eye him from your spot on the bed,
“I had to commit to the bit.” You shrug and giggle.
The smile drops from his face as turns to look at you.
“You’re not joking?” He questions, show forgotten.
“It was Luke’s idea and you made me upset, what was I supposed to do?” You counter back.
“I’ll let you have that one because I was an ass.” He says lowly.
He puts New Moon on and relaxes back into the sheets, wrapping his arms around you and leaning down to kiss your neck. You reach back to grab his arm and thread your fingers into his and squeeze, reassuring him. Settling back into him, feeling safe for the first time since he left all those weeks ago. You were always warmer when he was around.
“I love you, quinny, don’t ever doubt that.” You look back at him.
“I know baby, it’s you and me forever.” He squeezes your hand, before turning back to the movie.
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Omg okay this is OFFICIALLY the longest thing I’ve ever written and I actually kinda like it!! So pls enjoy my delusions and once again like I said before, I know Quinn and the whole team USA is a controversial topic, I DO NOT CONDONE WHAT THEY DID, if you don’t like it, don’t read it, don’t leave hate bc you will be blocked!
As always I’m tagging my pookie @vxmpirebyrumor bc she’s my #1 supporter!! I love you so much baby🥺
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.
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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.
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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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Warnings: SMUT, dark!quinn, sugar daddy kind of situation, watching through cameras, insinuating breaking in, use of pet names, non-con if you squint, praise kink, size kink, cumming inside, kinda overstimulation.
WC: ~1k (This is a shorter one)
THIS IS JUST PURE FILTH SO READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.
Quinn is letting out heavy breaths as he watches you through the little cameras he had set up in your house. He had convinced you to let him set them up for your ”safety”, especially when he’s travelling. He promised he never monitored them frequently, but Quinn always loved to watch you walk around in the outfits he would buy you. Tonight was different – tonight he found you lying on your couch, your hand underneath your shorts. His cock growing in his sweats as he watches you teasing yourself.
Quinn had made it clear to you that he never wants you to touch yourself if he’s not there – that’s his job, not yours. He is always taking care of you, pleasing you, making you lay there as he makes you cum over and over, until his name is the only thing you can remember.
His eyes burn into the sight of your face contorting in pleasure, your mouth agape with breathy sighs pouring out.
Then he hears it – you whimper his name. He loses it. He can’t contain himself anymore.
You don’t stand a chance when he finally gets his hands on you.
————————————————————————
“Please, Quinn, I’m sorry. I just–“ You’re cut off as he circles his thumb over your nipples, slowly, precise. You squirm as his hand splays over the soft swell of your stomach, his thumb dipping into your belly button. Like this, you can see just how much bigger he is, his hand practically spanning across your entire stomach.
His hand makes its way down, his thumb resting above your clit, pressing softly against the swollen nub.
He makes you feel so small– touching you like he’s reminding you who you belong to. His big hand between your thighs is relentless, petting your clit until you’re trembling and crying out as he makes you cum. He strokes you through your orgasm, your pussy clenching around nothing–feeling so empty. He claims your lips with his, sliding his tongue into your mouth.
He flicks your nipple with his free hand, making you squeal.
"You're so cute, so sensitive.” He murmurs against your lips.
You can only tremble in place.
You watch with wide eyes as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks your arousal slick off them. He groans around his fingers, licking them clean.
"You taste so good, princess,” his tongue darts out and wets his lips. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.” He states, bluntly, his once green eyes, now almost black with lust.
"C'mon." He hoists you off the couch and throws you over his shoulder, stalking to your bedroom.
He strips you down, taking a moment to appreciate you laid out on the bed with only your pair of panties on before ripping those off too. Fully bare, you shiver under the gaze of him.
He climbs onto the bed and crawls on top of you, caging you underneath him.
"Please," you beg, clamping your legs together. "Q, I–"
"Just relax," he murmurs, stroking his hands up and down your thighs. "You're my good girl, you can take it."
He pries your legs open and rubs his cock up and down your folds, coating himself in your slick. It's immediately apparent to you that he wasn’t lying – he’s going to ruin you.
"Good girl," he murmurs, big hand palming the top of your head as he dips down to kiss you. You whimper into his mouth. "Such a good girl for me."
He can’t help snapping his hips into yours, his cock invading your cunt as his tongue delves into your mouth.
Quinn lets out a deep growl into your ear. “Maybe next time you decide to touch yourself without permission, I hope you’ll think twice.”
He leans back on his heels, hands clamping around your ankles and lifting them into the air – up over his shoulders. Like this, he starts rutting his hips into you faster and harder, eyes closed as he savours the feel of your tight, sucking cunt strangling his cock as he forces you to take it over and over and over.
"Oh god," you whine, your hands pushing against his chest to no avail. "It's too much, too big–“
“Shh sweetheart, you can take it,” he says, cradling your head, the soft words are nothing compared to the cruel force of his thrusts. He practically had you bent in half.
He slows for a moment, relishing in the way you feel around him. His cock buried deep inside you, his pelvis flush with your swollen clit. The feeling making your eyes roll back into your head.
“Yeah, you like that, baby? You like my cock filling you like this?” He taunts, feeling your body trembling under him.
He begins grinding himself into your clit, your jaw hangs open but no sound comes out. You’re so close – you’re clenching around him, eliciting a whine from the back of his throat. The sound going straight to your core.
He starts to roughly fuck into you again, his thumb now rubbing circles on your clit. Sweat now dripping from the strands of his hair, his body glistening with moisture.
He buries himself into you, needing to feel you as close as possible. You feel his cock swell and twitch, his high setting off your own as you feel him filling you, rope after rope of his hot cum, his eyes roll back into his head at the feeling of your tight cunt. Your hands find their home against his chest, your nails rake down along him, leaving red streaks in their wake. His head drops to your neck, his little moans and growls flooding your ears like the perfect melody.
He’s whispering sweet nothings into your skin as he rides out both your orgasms,
“My sweet girl.”
“You’re mine.”
“Such a good girl for me. Always so good.”
All that’s left in the room is the sounds of your heavy breathing as you both come down from your highs.
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If you have a request, or if you just wanna share a horny thought, send me an ask!
dark (idc who) Hughes Brother x female reader, like give me stalker give me obsession give me morally gray yk?!
Watching You
pairing: dark!Quinn Hughes x female reader
description: Quinn has been watching you for months so when he finally decides to make his move, he breaks into your apartment to claim what he believes is already his - you.
The rain outside wasn't the kind that washed things clean, it was the kind that muddied everything, made the streets slick and gray. It matched the state of Quinn's mind perfectly.
He sat in the driver's seat of his Audi, the engine idling softly, the rain tapping a rhythmic tattoo against the tinted glass.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
He checked his watch. 2:14 AM. The stars had been obliterated by the storm, but Quinn didn't need the stars to see what he was looking for. He was looking at you.
Three stories up. Your bedroom window.
He adjusted the rearview mirror just an inch. A sliver of the room was visible. You were lying on your side, tangled in white sheets, your hair a dark halo against the pillow. He watched the slow rise and fall of your chest, mesmerized. He felt that familiar ache in his groin, the phantom sensation of being buried inside you.
God, look at you, his mind whispered, dark and twisted. So soft. So unspoiled. You have no idea how badly I need to ruin you.
He remembered the first time he saw you. It had been at a grocery store near his brother's place. You had been bent over, reaching for a jar of pickles, your skirt riding up just enough to show the curve of your thigh. He had wanted to walk over, grab you by the waist, and tell you that you belonged to him. Instead, he had watched you turn, and when your eyes met his, he had felt a jolt so sharp it had nearly made him drop his cart.
You smiled. Just a small, innocent thing. "Oh, sorry, you can have that."
That smile had been your first mistake. It had planted a seed in his chest that had been growing ever since. He started tracking you. Not in a scary, bad way, but in a way that was intensely intimate. He knew your commute. He knew which coffee shop you went to at 8:00 AM for your coffee. He knew you walked your dog at 6:30 PM through Stanley Park, even when it rained.
He knew you liked your coffee black. He knew you hummed while you cooked. He knew you were naive, a little bit clumsy and utterly helpless when it came to handling a man like him.
The lights in your bedroom clicked on and Quinn's breath hitched.
He watched as you sat up, rubbing your eyes, looking around the room like a confused deer. He loved the way your pupils dilated when you were tired and the way your lips pursed when you were thinking. He wanted to kiss those lips until they were swollen.
He glanced at his phone. 2:16 AM.
He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. Patience, Quinn.
He looked at his side mirror again, his eyes narrowing as he focused on your window. The storm was getting worse now, thunder rumbling in the distance. He wondered if you woke up because you were cold. He hated that that was even an opportunity. If you were his, you would never feel cold.
He reached into the passenger seat, pulling out the small gift he had bought earlier that day. A crystal pendant he'd seen in a boutique window. It was simple, elegant. Perfect for you. He wanted to see it against your skin. He alson wanted to know what it looked like when you were moaning his name.
You're so beautiful, the thought returned, possessive and demanding. I should have taken you that day at the grocery store. I should have dragged you to my car and made you mine right there in the parking lot.
He watched as you stood up and walked toward the window. Your hand rested on the glass as you looked out at the rain. He wondered what you were thinking about. Were you thinking about love? About how romantic the rain looks? About a normal guy who would take you on dates and hold your hand?
He reached out and pressed his hand against the window, mimicking your position. He watched you, his eyes boring into yours. You looked up, startled by the face reflected in the glass. And for a second, your eyes locked with his.
A smile touched your lips, a sleepy, confused smile.
Quinn felt a rush of blood to his groin. She knows. She feels it.
He pressed his forehead against the cool glass, his eyes never leaving yours. I'm coming for you, little dove.
The sound of the window sliding up made you jump, your heart hammering against your ribs. You turned around, expecting the draft from the open window to be the cause, but the latch was down.
The room was suddenly too small.
You walked to your bedroom door and opened it, stepping into the hallway. The lights were off in the rest of the apartment, but a soft glow emanated from the living room. You heard the sound of rain against the glass again, louder this time, and realized the patio door was open.
You crept into the living room, rubbing your eyes. Quinn was sitting on the edge of the sofa, his head in his hands, staring out at the rain.
"Quinn?" you called out softly.
He jumped, turning his head to look at you. His eyes were wide, dark, and filled with something that made your stomach drop. He didn't smile. He just stood up, his movements fluid and predatory.
"Did I wake you?" he asked, his voice rough and deep.
You shook your head, stepping closer. "I heard the rain. Is the patio door open?"
"It is," he said, taking a step toward you. He stopped when he was inches away, the scent of rain and pine filling your nose. You could feel the heat radiating off his body. "I thought you might be cold."
"I am a little," you admitted, wrapping your arms around yourself.
Quinn's eyes dropped to your chest, where your arms were hugging yourself. He let out a low, frustrated sound. "You shouldn't be cold. You should be warm."
He reached out, his hand cupping your cheek. His touch was firm, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip. You felt your knees weaken, the way he looked at you making you feel small.
"I came to see you," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "I've been watching you for a long time."
Your heart skipped a beat. "You have?"
"Every night," he said, leaning in. His breath hitched, his eyes darkening. "I watch you sleep. I watch you wake up. I watch you eat, I watch you work. I know everything about you."
You felt a flush rise to your cheeks. "You do?"
He moved closer, his hand sliding down to grip your hip. "You're so soft," he whispered, his fingers digging into your flesh. "So pretty."
"Quinn," you breathed, your hands coming up to rest on his chest. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. "You're scaring me a little."
"Don't be scared, little dove. I would never hurt you," he growled, his lips brushing against your ear. "I want to own you. I want to see what you sound like when you come. I want to be the first thing you see every morning, and the last person you think of every night."
He pulled back, his eyes locking onto yours. "I just want you."
You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you nodded. "I think I want you too."
He groaned, a sound of pure need. He kissed you, a searing, aggressive kiss that took your breath away. His tongue demanded entry, his hands roaming over your body with a familiarity that terrified and excited you. He gripped the back of your neck, holding you in place as he plundered your mouth.
You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your thigh, a reminder of what he wanted. You reached up, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.
He broke the kiss, panting, his eyes dark with lust. He pushed you back toward the patio door, the cold glass against your back. He pressed his body against yours, his hands moving under your shirt. His fingers were cool against your heated skin, tracing the curve of your waist, dipping lower.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, his lips trailing down your neck, sucking gently on the sensitive skin. He bit down, just enough to hurt, just enough to mark you.
He pulled your shirt up over your head, discarding it on the floor. He stared at you, his eyes raking over your body with undisguised hunger. He unhooked your bra, his hands cupping your breasts, his thumbs rubbing over your hardened nipples with agonizing slowness. You gasped, a sound of surrender that seemed to spur him on. His eyes never left your face, drinking in every expression of pleasure, every flicker of need.
"You're so responsive," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. "It turns me on to see how much you like this."
He pushed you down onto the cold glass of the patio door, the chill seeping through your back but immediately warmed by his body pressing against you. He parted your legs, stepping between them, his knee nudging its way higher. His hands were everywhere, squeezing your hips, tracing the line of your spine, his nails occasionally digging in just enough to sting.
"I've thought about this," he confessed, his lips hovering near yours. "I've thought about just bending you over and watching myself disappear inside you."
"Quinn…" You whined his name, your hands fisting in his hair as he kissed a path down your neck.
"I want to hear you," he growled, biting down gently on the sensitive skin just above your collarbone. "I want to know what you sound like when I'm the only thing that matters. I want to know what you sound like when you're coming for me."
He moved lower, his mouth replacing his hands. He teased you, his lips and tongue grazing over the fabric of your panties, sending jolts of electricity straight to your core. You bucked your hips, trying to get more friction, but he held you down, his strong arms caging you in.
"Please, Quinn," you begged, your voice trembling.
"Patience," he whispered against your clothed sex. "I'm just getting started."
He pulled back, his eyes dark and intense. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, his movements efficient and demanding. He didn't ask for permission. He simply stripped you of the last barrier between you.
His mouth moved instantly to your center. You cried out, your back arching off the glass as he devoured you. His tongue was skilled, relentless, finding every sensitive spot and driving you wild. He licked and sucked, his fingers joining in to stretch you open, curling precisely to hit that spot inside you that made your vision blur.
You were a mess of sensation, your head falling back against the glass. The world narrowed down to the feel of his mouth on you, the rough scratch of his stubble against your thighs, the sound of his groans of satisfaction as he ate you.
"You taste so good," he mumbled, pulling back just enough to look up at you. "So sweet. So perfect."
He stood up, stripping off his t-shirt and tossing it aside. He looked incredible, his muscles rippling in the dim light, his chest heaving. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a foil packet, tearing it open with his teeth.
"Get on your knees," he commanded, his voice rough with need.
You did as you were told, kneeling on the cool floor. He kicked his jeans down, his erection springing free, heavy and thick. He tapped his thumb against the side of the condom wrapper, waiting for you to comply. When you reached out, he guided your hand, wrapping it around him. You were surprised by the heat, the heavy weight of him in your palm.
"Good girl," he praised, his hand covering yours, helping you stroke him. "Show me how much you want it."
He groaned, his head falling back as you worked him. You looked up at him, his expression one of pure ecstasy mixed with obsession. He looked down at you, his eyes locking onto yours.
"Open your mouth," he ordered.
You obeyed, leaning forward to take him into your mouth. He was big, filling you up completely. You gagged slightly as he hit the back of your throat, but you didn't stop. You wanted to please him. You wanted to show him you could handle him.
He watched you, his eyes dark and hungry. He ran his fingers through your hair, holding you in place as he thrust into your mouth. He fucked your face with deep, hard strokes, his balls slapping against your chin.
"Gonna come," he gritted out, his body tensing.
He pulled out, his hand moving quickly as he finished himself off, spilling his seed over your hand and chest. He groaned, his shoulders dropping as he caught his breath.
"You did so good for me, my perfect girl," he whispered, looking at you with a reverence that made your heart swell.
He leaned down, kissing you, tasting himself on your lips. "I'm not done with you," he said, his voice dropping to a seductive purr. "I want to be inside you."
He helped you stand up, guiding you back toward the sofa. He sat down, pulling you onto his lap. He entered you easily, the stretch burning slightly as he filled you. He held you there for a moment, letting you adjust to his size.
Then, he began to move. His thrusts were hard and deep, hitting every spot that mattered. You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders. You felt the wave building, higher and higher, until it crashed over you. You came again, your body clamping down on him, milking him dry.
He continued to thrust until he too reached his peak, his body going rigid. He spilled his seed, filling you, his grunts lost in the room.
He collapsed onto the sofa, pulling you close. You could feel his heart hammering against your ribs. He kissed your neck, his lips soft now. "I told you," he whispered against your skin. "I told you I was coming for you."
You ran your fingers through his hair, watching the rain continue to fall outside. "You did," you whispered back.
"I'm never letting you go," he murmured. "You're mine now."
: ̗̀➛ "maybe you should have listened to your friends when they warned you. Now you're living one of his lies… and you won't be able to get out of it."
: ̗̀➛ contains: dark quinn, lies, manipulation, getting inside your head, masturbation, no p in v, fingering, ejaculating in your mouth without warning, possessive thoughts, a slight mention to isolating yourself from your friends.
: ̗̀➛ based on this request
: ̗̀➛ taglist
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
when you started living with Quinn, a couple of people tried to warn you about his behavior, as if you didn't know him, or as if they saw a version of your best friend completely different from the one you know. They called him a villain, a manipulator, a liar. They warned you to be careful because he looks at you like he wants to break you. And that caused you to fight with all of them, because the Quinn you know has always been attentive, protective, and sweet. You always laugh with him and feel better after tough days.
he was always the first one there for you, even without you having to say a word, almost as if he already knew everything. You feel like you owe him your life, that you would do anything to see him happy, which is why you accepted without hesitation when he asked you to move in with him, saying that he felt lonely, a little sad about not having someone to be there with him.
you gave up everything for him because to you, no one deserves it more than Quinn. So he knows he has you wrapped around his finger, ready to do anything, like you're his sweet little doll who'll say yes to everything.
it took him months, but he finally managed to get inside your head, and once he knew everything you were capable of, he started using you, from small things to moving with him, and even then he didn't stop. He kept learning about you, spying, stalking, finding out everything about you in ways you don't need to know, because he knows it would scare you.
that's how he put together his plan to take the relationship to the next level: with something that would change everything, that would open a door you could no longer close.
so, that day he came home a little late, with a pained expression, slightly bent over, limping, clutching his bag as if his life depended on it, immediately catching your attention.
you rushed to him, trying to help him walk, leading him to the couch and sitting down beside him immediately. You missed the small smile that flickered across his face for a couple of seconds, a smile he couldn't suppress when he saw you so worried. It breaks your heart to see him in this state, so hurt.
"what happened to you?" you asked softly, caressing his chest, feeling his body relax a little. That's when he began to explain about this supposed accident he'd suffered during practice, where a puck had hit him in his "intimate zone," the very day he'd forgotten his protective gear, causing him to leave early and go to the team doc, requiring immediate medical attention.
you listened, glancing down at his lap when you saw him place his hand there, caressing where you knew his bulge was, causing a slight burning sensation in your neck from the embarrassment of looking there. That's why you looked at him again, noticing that he was already looking at you, while he continued talking, giving you medical terms that you don't know, but that you assume are real, and that sound very worrying.
you asked him how he got home, and he replied briefly, saying that Boldy had offered to bring him without much trouble, even helping him out of the car and walking him to the entrance. That made you smile a little, because it makes you feel better to know that there are still people who see him as a good person, helping him when you're not there.
"and what do you have to do now? are you gonna play tomorrow?" you asked, still touching his chest. He had an answer for that too, saying that he would have to miss a game to finish recovering; doctor's orders. That made you nod, although you thought it was a short time considering all the medical terms he'd just mentioned.
then he started talking about medication, about painkillers. But he said that it wouldn't be enough, that the doc had suggested an even more effective option, but that he was embarrassed, so he would try to ignore it and stick with just the pills, which made you frown, a little annoyed that he hadn't considered a better option.
“Quinn, if they gave you a better option, you have to leave the embarrassment behind,” you scolded him, watching him lower his head slightly, feigning shame, which led you to place a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at you. “What is it?” you asked, in a soft tone.
he sighed, trying to look anywhere but at you, and began to speak. Apparently, the injury could cause knots to form inside him, and that would hurt quite a bit. These can't be dissolved with medication, so the only way to avoid them is with massages. Now, because of the area, these massages have to be on his dick, but the doctor had told him that he might not be able to do it himself, since the pain wouldn't let him continue.
you feel your face burning just from understanding what he's saying, but an alarm inside you tells you it's your duty to help him, just as he's helped you so many times, regardless of the embarrassment, because he's your best friend, the best person you know, and he doesn't deserve for you to turn your back on him like this. You couldn't.
so you react impulsively, standing up from your seat, kneeling between his legs, swallowing with some difficulty. “Show me what i have to do,” you say, looking at him firmly, even though inside you're melting.
he looks at you with feigned surprise, trying to deny it, but you stop him, telling him you want to help.
that's when he lowers his pants, freeing his cock, since he had to take off his underwear after what happened, to avoid putting too much pressure on it. And you see it, a little hard, swollen, with its veins and a little reddish. And you wonder if that's normal, if it's supposed to look so… big, even when it's not fully erect.
that makes you feel nervous, frozen. You know technically what you have to do, but you've never tried it before, so you look at him, lost in thought. He smiles slightly, taking one of your hands and guiding it to his cock, which you grasp gently, listening to his sigh, making you think it hurts, which causes you to stop squeezing it completely.
he tries to reassure you, reminding you not to stop. That once you start, you have to go all the way. So you squeeze it again a little, feeling how heavy it is.
“first you gotta…” he began, his hand on top of yours, moving it up and down, showing you how. You followed, feeling it throb beneath your hand, more intensely as you moved faster. “Just like that,” he sighed, tilting his head back for a moment before looking at you again. “You can play with the tip; that will help it not hurt so much,” he instructed, and you did as he said, feeling it get harder and swollen, and watching as the tip began to glisten and become wet.
you looked at him, trying to learn, feeling a strange urge to put it in your mouth, as if a magnet were drawing you in. So you waited until he closed his eyes, moving your hand while you left a small lick on the tip, watching as he suddenly opened his eyes, staring at you with dilated pupils.
“do that again,” he ordered, to which you nodded, doing it once more, with a little more confidence, watching as he clenched his jaw, his hand now moving to your hair, pulling you closer to his cock. That made you smile, believing you were doing a good job, so you continued, daring to lick its entire length, from base to tip, making it easier to masturbate him, wet as he was.
and you moved quickly, squeezing just enough, seeing how much he was enjoying it. And that made you feel something, like a strong heat in your belly, which traveled down to your pussy. You felt her panties start to get sticky, and you tried to get rid of that sensation by rubbing yourself against the floor, stimulating your pussy and making you moan against Quinn's cock.
“fuck,” he moaned, tightening his grip on your hair, which only made you whimper more. “Put it in your mouth,” he ordered, and you obeyed immediately, slowly sliding his cock into your mouth until it touched the bottom, causing you to gag slightly.
it feels heavy on your tongue; hot, but something inside you doesn't want it to leave your mouth, so you start moving your head up and down, swallowing it, masturbating what won't fit in, while you keep moving your hips, rubbing yourself desperately against the floor, trying to find some relief in your pussy, which is now dripping, wetting your thighs and the wood, under Quinn's eyes, who looks at you like you're prey, his next meal.
he feels in control, like everything is going according to plan, and that makes him feel powerful, so he lets you continue, trying not to thrust into your mouth, listening to your little gags as you try to swallow as much as you can, feeling addicted to its taste, to its weight.
you wanna have him inside you all the time, hearing him moan your name, in such a vulnerable state that it makes him look even more beautiful. God, if you had known this before, you would have done it a thousand times.
does he look the same when he masturbates alone? did he do it in this house? with you here?
you imagine him, running his hand over his cock. The same hand he has in your hair now. Squeezing it like you do, while he moans your name and thinks about you. That makes you move faster, making Quinn feel the need to come.
and he thought about it, about whether he should warn you, but you look so beautiful that he doesn't want to interrupt you. He doesn't want you to think. So he just comes in your mouth, while you swallow it all desperately, whimpering, drool running down your chin until you pull his cock out of your mouth, breathing heavily, trying to calm your racing heart, having to cough a little because you choked.
and he looks at you with loving eyes, caressing your cheek, making you look at him, your eyes filled with tears and a shy smile on your face. “Thank you, baby,” he smiled at you, leaning in to give you a little kiss on the lips, surprising you, making you melt inside, with a new but beautiful feeling.
and from that moment on, you couldn't pull away, you couldn't stop. Every time you felt the urge, you reached out and touched his bulge, making him smile, under the excuse of wanting to help him, wanting to be good to him, so he wouldn't feel pain anymore.
you become more skilled, moving your head to the rhythm he likes, while one of your hands massages his balls and your drool runs down his base. It's almost obscene, but you discovered you like it, and there's nothing better than hearing the sweet sounds he makes.
but it gets even better when you try it again in his bed, when you were sitting next to him and decided to lie face down beside his cock, leaving your ass exposed, which he began to caress while you swallowed its entire length, making you moan, needing his attention. Until he touched your pussy for the first time, giving you your reward for being such a good girl. So innocent, so willing to help him, expecting nothing in return, yet still receiving your prize.
his fingers slide into your cunt, opening your walls as you swallowed everything he had to give you, being a mess of moans thanks to him. Getting more and more cockdrunk. Dependent.
you don't think you can let him go when he has to go back to the games. You need him. So much that you can't even think about his injury anymore. You need to do it all the time. Feel him.
you don't know why, but this became an addiction. Just what everyone warned you about. But you couldn't care less, because you're enjoying it, and Quinn? he knows you're his now, that there's no going back, so he'll make sure to break down every barrier in your mind. Fuck you stupid until you can't think straight anymore. Until you can't tear yourself away from him.
Lovely, hey there. So. Um.. dark!quinn...just a lil thot, okay? 😶🌫️🫣 First, lil confession, I wanna be claimed just like that y'know. Yes, I am a whore. Anyway...this is more of a ramble. My head is a mess. Also...don't ask if it's gotten too long. This did not happen. Don't come for me. This is truly dark. You've been warned.
Under his Control
Relationship: dark bf!Q x F!Reader
TW/CW: 18+ MDNI, Smut, Dark, Manipulation, Deranged + Controlling behavior, Non-con, Somnophilia (not communicated kinks; make sure if you wanna do this, communicate what you wanted to explore and do with your partner!!), Drugging (sleeping supplements and pills) 🚩
Disclaimer | Inbox Rules | Dark Masterlist | Taglist
You were always a heavy sleeper. Sure, you had trouble sleeping, but once you were out, you were out. Quinn knew that. He would be a bad boyfriend if he didn't.
Afterall, he was the one who always woke up first for his early practice, the one who tried to pry your vice-like grip every time, the one who tried banging the cabinets during the morning to make sure, to constantly test your sleep. The one who touched your pussy through your panties until your arousal slicked it, until soft moans escaped your lips.
Then came the problem. You would rouse, stirring then slowly wake up, before he could make you come, before he could further his debauchery. Fucking always.
You would be so confused, too sleep-drunk, too innocent that you would just assume Quinn's cuddling you.
Even for so long, you never put two and two together. Not a clue with his touches. With his lack of care that he never asked for your consent through these acts. Well, why would he need such a thing when he owned you? Every single fiber of your being was his.
Your body that could no longer reach the heights of an orgasm without his touch. The number of times you came running towards him with tears of frustration in your eyes because no matter what you do—no matter what toy or technique—you couldn't come. The number of times you called him whining while he was on a road trip because you got so horny, yet you couldn't do a single fucking thing to help yourself.
Your mind that couldn't choose anything for yourself. Always seeking his opinion. Before, you would just go out with your friends whenever you like. Now, you preferred staying home just because Quinn planted seeds of doubt about your friends not being good for you, about them only using you because of how sweet you were, which were all not false. They were using you to get to him. You were so naive to see through their elaborate trap, so Quinn easily manipulated the circumstances that you had to break off the friendships. You didn't need them anyway. Not when you have him.
Not all of your friends were using you though. Some were good. Too good, too fucking nosy, trying to get you to see how twisted he was. Quinn couldn't have that, so he got rid of them too. Threats. Blackmail. He did it all, making you think they just dropped you, which made you more needy for his company.
Your soul that sang with his. So bright and innocent when you stared at hum like he hung the moon. So adorable when he fucked you so hard that he left you sore for days with bruises painting your neck, your hips, your thighs, and everywhere else. Still, you looked at him with heart-shaped eyes.
You'd been such a perfect girl to love, fuck, and manipulate. So perfect, really. Except you kept waking up when it was about to be more interesting. When he was about to consume you in a different fucking level. When all he wanted was for you to come around him while you were still in dream-fucking-land. Was that too much of an ask?
So, Quinn moved.
He took his time researching things that would keep you asleep. He acted like a damned insomniac, going to a shrink and telling him he needed something to help him sleep, expertly twisting the truth, emphasizing he needed something to get him to sleep throughout the night. It was so easy. One trip to the pharmacy, he got his prescription along with bottles of melatonin and magnesium.
Getting you to drink the supplements was simple. Your eyes were twinkling as you take it as him being concerned with you. You happily take them. No questions. Not a single doubt or concern. You just take and take. Everything he gave you.
Quinn was always patient. Always bidding his time. He won't use his supposed prescription yet. Touching and testing if the supplements were enough. They were not. Therefore, he used them, telling you he saw a better additional supplement.
He waited and waited for your protest, even a question on what the fuck it is because one would normally ask, but alas, you said:
"Okay."
Then you grinned at him with such innocence that Quinn wondered how on earth did you survived this cruel world. No matter. He was here to keep you safe from anything else but him. He loved the pureness you offer. So pure that he must corrupt.
He watched. Within minutes, you were out like a light. Your body was in a supine position under the blankets, your chest moving with your every breath. Like a princess. His very own sleeping beauty.
One tug, the sheets were off. He could see the goosebumps on your skin, your nipples hardening under your silk night gown. He ran his hands over your thighs, spreading them, pushing the fabric up and up and up, exposing your lace panties. Slowly, he touches your clothed pussy, feeling along your folds, teasing your clit down to your entrance and back up.
Soft. You were so soft and getting so drenched. The need to smell you overtook him, not giving a shit anymore if the drug would actually keep you asleep. He just hooked one thigh over his shoulder, pressing his nose on your pussy and smelled your feminine musk. So divine as he started to lick over the lace.
Just one taste and he lost it. Like a feral beast who had not eaten for days, he licked and sucked and nipped, almost laughing as he heard your little whines, preening at how your hips jerked so slightly. Then he stared right at your face, waiting for you to wake but you didn't. Fuck yes.
He could barely think straight anymore. He tore your panties, slapping his cock against your quivering pussy, rubbing himself on you until he was coated by your arousal as his pre-cum dripped down his length. The way your thighs twitched, your eyebrows frowning, your barely there 'hmmm'. Everything etched in his brain. As he slowly sank his cock into your pulsing heat.
He fucked you slowly. Every thrust was full and deep. Your tits moved, bouncing, luring him in for a taste, so he indulged. Using his teeth to tug the neckline of your nightgown then he sucked your pebbled peak. One by one. he could feel your walls spasming for a mini orgasm. So adorable.
Your troubled moans filled his brain. He could basically feel your body trying to wake up, could feel the dream your mind was showing you. He was also fucking you in your dream, wasn't he? How hard was he going? Were the pathetic sounds coming out of you supposed to be your pleas to fuck you harder?
He supposed they were. What else could they be? You were always such a slut. It must be maddening for you not to get what you wanted.
"I know, my love. I know," he whispered in your ear, groaning when your pussy squeezed so tight around him that he almost came. "Let's take our time, okay? Fuck. We got the whole night."
It didn't matter to Quinn if he had to wake up for a morning skate. He would take his fucking time. He was already so fucking confident that his team would win. They always seemed to win whenever he touched you during your sleep. Now that he was fucking you, maybe it could be an easy victory. Fuck, he hoped it would be. Even if they lose, there was no way he wouldn't do this again.
Languidly, he rolled his hips as his hands gripped your hips wider, opening you up.
Then he started to get rougher. His hips bucking into you to claim you brutally. He wanted you to be so confused about why you're so sore in the morning, wanted you to feel so horrified about the new kiss marks he was leaving all over your chest, your collarbone, your neck. He wanted to see you panic when you see the handprint bruises on your thighs.
Those images of you all rattled and horrified filled his mind. He couldn't stop smiling as he pressed down your lower abdomen, his thumb softly rubbing circles around your clit until you come so hard, your lips parting, yet you didn't wake up. He kept whispering praises into your ear, chuckling at the little sniffles coming out of you because he wouldn't stop his thrusts, wouldn't stop playing with your sensitive clit.
"Give me another one, my Love. Just one. Then we'll stop," he teased into your lips, kissing you without care even if you didn't kiss back. It was exactly how he wanted. Just you in the palm of his hands. Just you being fucked by him because he could. Just like his very own sex toy. "I promise."
He lied and lied and lied.
He wouldn't stop.
Why would he?
He could only grip your skin, short nails digging into your tender flesh. When you came again, he did too, spurting deep into your pussy, kissing and licking your neck, praising you over and over again. He took his time to recover. Then he would do it again and again. The same fucking lie would escape his lips.
His sweat would drip down your sweaty body. His cum would be pooling under your ass. Your pussy would be red and raw from overuse. Your skin would be marked by bruises already darkening, reddening. He would be so greedy at the sight of you not waking up. Totally under his mercy. The night wouldn't be over, yet he was already planning the next time to do this.
He tried to stop at least. He was getting too exhausted after a couple of hours of partaking you. Hell, he almost fainted after he came so hard, but he couldn't. He needed more and more. He could only turn you both sideways, lazily fucking into you. His cum would already become too watery, too diluted, too spent.
He would only stop when he could no longer give you anything. Still, he couldn't be satiated. He would crawl down your body to start cleaning you with his tongue. Tasting the mix of your cum and his. Smelling what he has done. It was all so divine.
He did his best with the clean-up. He replaced your nightgown and panties, wiped away the sweat. Even managed to change the fucking sheets with his shaky legs.
After tucking you in with his arms around you, he passed out. Only to wake up the next fucking hour. It was time to fucking work.
Work he did, grinning and laughing to himself when you called midday, sobbing because your body fucking ached.
Sorry. This is nothing but a figment of your imagination, i fear. I didn't write this. The parasites in my head did. They were having a protest because I was reading an extremely wholesome romance fantasy book. They needed something dark so they took over my keyboard. 🤧😔
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