I am so here for bullying Jack--I mean. Yes, say less. This is cheating, a trope that got me insane because I cannot write it well. Anyway, I did my best 😫 I hope you like it!
TW/CW: 18+ MDNI, Smut, Dark, Manipulation, Extremely Deranged/Crazy behavior (kinda love at first sight on Quinn's side), Cheating (heavy; never cheat 🤨😐), Unprotected Sex (implied first time for reader), Rough and filthy sex (no stopping), Overstimulation.
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Quinn had already embraced the fact that he was fucked up since he was younger. He thought differently from any of his peers. He felt detached from so many things that others found sympathy. He was different. There was no use to force himself to fit in society's mold. That was all okay. All he had to do was take care of himself, his close friends, his family.
He liked it when his brothers came to him first, seeking advice, telling him about the secrets they refused to say to their parents and especially the world, needing a shoulder to lean upon when the pressure of hockey was getting to them. He was aware he was their pillar. He appreciated it. He exploited it. He was lucky to be their brother.
These were enough.
He was satisfied in not being too perceived. Being described to have a silent presence especially with Jack in the room was everything to him, because while he liked the attention, he never wanted it to linger. That was perfect.
That was until he met you, Jack's girlfriend whom he was raving about for weeks. The girlfriend whom Jack still refused to introduce to their parents. The girlfriend whom Quinn had immediately wanted to see him.
Could you blame him? You just appeared in his lake house with that hefty-looking cake that you'd baked yourself, doing your best lift it yourself because Jack wasn't fucking helping you, even walking past Quinn to get water. You just stood there with your smile wobbling on your face until Quinn took the cake from your grasp.
"Thank you." You smiled.
"You're the one bringing me a cake. Thank you." Quinn chuckled, shaking his head. "Come in. Make yourself at home."
Your eyes immediately lit up, a blush dusting the tops of your cheeks, nodding like a cute little thing, heading inside with a slight skip in your steps. You shouldn't have. You really, really shouldn't have, because you have piqued his interest.
Quinn could barely tamp down his smirk. His heart that had never once race for anybody had started pumping so hard that he could hear it beating on his eardrums. A shiver wrecked its havoc down his spine as he slammed his door closed. He liked you. There was no doubt about it. He just knew and understood what he felt.
It didn't matter if he just met you.
It didn't matter if you were his little brother's girlfriend.
It didn't matter because when he turned to head in, he caught you lingering on the doorway to the living room, glancing back at him. Your eyes roved down his body, from his head to his feet, then reverse, meeting his gaze instantly. Your blush deepened then you let out a tiny squeak before you ran away like a scared mouse. You were checking him out. You wanted him too, huh?
There was nothing that could convince him otherwise, because for the next few hours of hanging out with Jack and you, he could feel you glancing at him more and more. Even when the others—the ones Jack invited—arrived, you kept doing it, freezing when you somehow got seated across Quinn, cowering when he gave you a smile.
Quinn had never met someone so fucking cute, someone whose attention didn't irritate the fuck out of him, someone who had his presence locked instead of his brother who was yapping about whatever the fuck. By the end of the day, when you were so stiff with Jack's arm thrown across your shoulder, when you two were leaving to get you home, Quinn decided that he wanted you for himself.
He could take care of you better. He had seen how Jack glossed over your discomfort with his playful remarks about your relationship. It was so clear for Quinn to see that you were more private Jack, but his brother didn't seem to get it no matter how much you tugged on his sleeve to get him to shut his fucking mouth.
He could love you harder. He had seen how you chased after Jack for more kisses, but he was already turned away to talk to someone else. He saw you swallow down your need, curling in yourself, hiding the need to disappear.
He could give you more than his brother could.
So, Quinn followed the two of you with a car that was normally covered up, not caring about the mess left behind in his place, not minding whole two-hour drive to your place. Before he could admire your place, he got irritated when you exited the car, waving Jack a good bye, rushing to your door because his fucking brother didn't bother walking you to your doorstep. Was his brother always been this stupid?
It was sad. It was annoying. It was insanity-inducing.
But there was nothing to worry about.
He was here.
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Quinn exploited how frequent Jack brought you with him in the lake house. He would get up when you sneaked to get more water. He would pretend to scour his cabinets for more chips or High Noons after he greeted you, asking you if there was anything you might need. It would usually turn to you talking about yourself, excitedly.
He obliged you by listening, committing every detail you were willing to give to his memory, piling up the snacks on a tray, leaning against the counter with his whole body facing you. He would not give you any doubts that he wasn't interested and he was rewarded by you perking up, shining like a star.
He would take his chance in brushing past you so closely that your knuckles grazed against each other. Sometimes he would just walk away, his skin heating up from the slightest contact. Sometimes he would meet your eyes, loving how you looked like a mouse caught in a trap.
He would take his chance in helping you grab something from a higher shelf, pressing closely against your ass, holding your hips, preventing you from moving away. Then he would walk off after he handed you your stuff.
Stolen moments had him locking himself in his room, his cock aching and begging to be taken care off, but all he did was hover by the window, staring right at his brother who was enjoying his time with his friends, ignorant to whatever Quinn was doing to you. If you showed up in the view, he would throw his attention on you, watching everything else fade away.
He wanted you even if he had only known you for a couple of weeks.
You were it.
He would have you.
So, he planned something. It was supposed to be golf in the nearby course, making Jack drag you over, even while knowing you weren't so keen about that sport. He made it seem he was only running late, greeting Jack and Luke with sleep still in his eyes, yawning as he let all of you in. He even gave an excuse that he had to shower, his hair long overdue for a wash, convincing his brothers to head first and wait for their friends, shrugging that he didn't mind if you stayed here instead to watch whatever in the movie room.
"She could stay here," Quinn muttered, swallowing another yawn. When Jack frowned, he continued, "No one wants to sit on the golf cart for too long. She'd be more comfortable here."
"Really?" Jack asked, his tone sounding a bit annoyed and clueless. He looked at you and waited until you nodded and said something about sunscreen. "Ah, right. I thought you always have sunscreen."
This fucking idiot.
"I forgot to bring it..." You sighed at the same time as Luke commented, "Sun damage is no joke."
"Okay, you can stay then," Jack huffed, still unconvinced, still being full of attitude. "You better come quick, Quinn."
Quinn only waved his hand, leaving the two idiots to show you the movie room, while he took his time showering. All while he stared at the CCTV's video feed, waiting for the two to drive away, humming as they did. Golfing has always been a whole day long affair, especially with the others coming. Quinn could just appear then disappear quietly, but as he switched videos to the movie room, seeing you settle under a blanket he had prepared, he decided not to show up at all.
Why would he waste his time with petty golf when he had you where he wanted you to be?
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Less then an hour later, with his hair still slightly damp from the shower, Quinn found himself hovering directly behind you, observing the loose braid that your styled your hair into, barely hearing your chosen movie. There were something soothing about the ribbon you had braided into your hair. That blue ribbon that perfectly matched the blue flowers of your dress.
Yeah, there was no way you'd be allowed in the course. Didn't Jack check your attire at all? If he was gonna drag you everywhere he go, he might as well help you with the correct attire.
Well, not that Quinn was complaining because you fit right in here. In his house. In the room perfectly soundproofed with a newly fitted electronic lock that had snapped into place. Did you know that you were trapped here with him? Did you know he wanted to fuck you until he ruined you for anybody—especially Jack—else?
Quinn knew exactly when you noted his presence. He heard you sharp inhale. He had seen your head move slightly and your hands gripping your blanket until your knuckles turned white. He could see your shoulders tensing the moment he padded closer, and closer, and closer.
Every thump of his foot on the floor had you panting. Were you scared? Were you going to run? How were you going to react when you couldn't open the door?
Every thud of his palm landing on the leather the couch had you rigid, your hand finding your phone, gripping it. Were going to call your boyfriend? What were you going to say?
Every creak of the leather under his unforgiving grip had you gasping. Now was the time to flea—rather, to attempt to flea. Now was the time to push him away. Now was the time to tell him to stop. Yet you didn't. Because you'd been waiting for this moment too, right?
Quinn let out a chuckle, causing the tiny hairs on your neck to visibly stand. He leaned down, so his head leveled with yours.
"Do you love Jack?" He asked, venom filling his tone so much that you flinched.
"I..." You gulped, not moving a muscle. "Yes."
Your hesitation was loud, betraying the actual gravity of your love for his brother. You were panicking, almost standing if not for Quinn pressing a hand on your shoulder, pushing you down.
His hold wasn't forceful. It was a simple, firm push. One you could easily fight against, but you surrendered so easily. He came closer, his breath tickling the skin of your cheek. His hand crawling up and up from your shoulder, his fingers tracing along your collarbone, pressing and squeezing, to your delicate neck, his thumb teasing your racing pulse.
"How much?" He pushed, his hand wrapping around your neck fully, feeling you tremble as you look at him with want. "How deep is your love for my brother who will never love you?"
A myriad of emotions flew across your eyes. A damning mixture of panic, worry, brokenness, and most of all, relief. Like you were waiting for that confirmation for so long. Like you had been so afraid that Jack loved you more than you loved him. Well, now, you have it. It was extremely clear that Jack was only stringing you along for the summer. Maybe treating you more of a friend rather than his girlfriend was more accurate, but it was still pathetic. You didn't deserve that treatment. You were supposed to be treasured. Loved.
"Have you two fucked already?" Quinn smirked at the flush immediately staining your cheeks. He already knew the answer. If you had, Jack would be talking about it and he would even introduce you to their parents, but he didn't. "Oh, sweet girl. You're not missing much."
"What are you saying, Quinn?"
"You would know if you fuck him," Quinn taunted, pulling you closer, giving your neck a squeeze, earning a tiny squeak. Such an adorable sound. "But you don't want to fuck him, do you?" His eyes fell to your stained and glossed lips before coming back up to your eyes. "You want to fuck someone else, right?"
You could just say no. It was that easy. A 'no' would confirm that you liked Jack enough even if you didn't want to fuck him. It would confirm that you were as loyal as you appear and that you were as pure as you could be, but you weren't. You were as vile as Quinn was, wanting him and that was definitely fucking acceptable.
Your eyes filled up. Your lips parted but no words fell from them. You took another audible gulp, pressing your eyes closed, your tears running down the softness of your cheeks. You nodded.
"Who?" Quinn dared to kiss your cheek, his tongue darting out to lap at your tear. "Who do you want to fuck?"
"I can't," you sniffled, gasping when he gently brushed his lips on your eyelids. "This is wrong." You yelped as Quinn dug his nail into your skin, causing you to open your eyes, fear consuming you soul. "Please...Quinn, you're scaring me."
"Who do you want to fuck?" He repeated. Gone was the taunting smirk on his lips.
"You." You gripped his wrist. "It's you, Quinn, and I don't know what to do."
Quinn did. He pulled you in for a kiss, his whole body that was like a loaded spring relaxing the moment you reciprocated the kiss. His firm grip around your neck loosened as his hand curled to thr back of your head, reeling you closer. He nipped at your lower lip, waiting for you to gasp, then he slipped his tongue to meet yours. He kissed you deeply that you were moaning into his lips, that your arms wrapped around his nape, that you were panting when he parted from you.
You stared at him like a helpless little bunny as he rounded the couch. You were gripping your dress as he took off his shirt. Your eyes were burning into his skin. You fell backwards as he crawled on top of you.
"Are we really going to do this?" You asked, spreading your legs for him, letting him push your skirts up and pull your wet panties off. "Oh my god, Quinn. I think I should shower—Oh, fuck."
"So wet like good little slut," he mocked, his fingers tracing your slit before dipping into your heat. He curled them, immediately and expertly reaching that sensitive spot that had you moaning and your thighs quivering. He found you. He fucking found you just like that. He prodded at it, making you grip his shoulders, your back arching, your moans uncontrollable.
"Oh, my Love, how pretty you are," he praised, marking the impossible clench for his endearment. He did not easing with every wave of his fingers, fucking you, dragging you faster and faster to your peak. The obscene squelching sounds were a music to his ear like a score of an orchestra he had been looking forward to haring. "So beautiful."
"Wait—" You panted, trying to scoot away.
But he wasn't letting you. Why would he?
"Quinn, I can't—Too much. You need to stop. I'm gonna pee." You started pushing at his shoulder. "Stop. Please—"
"Just it go, my Love." Quinn grinned, his eyes darkening, his blood pumping straight down his cock, getting amused with how quick your undoing was. "Don't stop it. Give in. It will be okay. I'm here. I'm always here."
Oh, how your pussy walls shook as your thighs fought to close but couldn't because he was holding one down. With a breathy moan, you were coming harder and harder, your pussy clenching down on his fingers to the point that he couldn't move them. Holy, you were so tight even when you were so wet and ready.
"You have such a greedy pussy," he commented. Simple words were enough to make you whine like a helpless prey. He finally able to retract his fingers, your arousal and cum stringing between them. He took them to your lips. "Open up for me, my Love."
There was a question in your gaze but you still opened up, your tongue lapping up his digits, shuddering at your taste. Then you sucked, perfectly showing him how it would be if your lips were around his cock instead.
Quinn's phone rang, loudly but not enough to destroy the heavy tension building between you. As he scoot closer, his eyes burning into your soul, his thighs meeting yours, keeping you spread for him, he fished it from his pocket and answered it, not bothering with who was calling, not bothering with the panic that jolted you as he pressed down on your tongue.
"What is it?"
"Where the fuck are you, Quinn?" Luke spat, sounding more annoyed than ever. He had always been carefree on showing up on time, but he tended to get irritated when someone else was going late. "Everyone's here. You're late again. We're already starting without you by the way."
"Raincheck." Quinn smirked when you took the courage to push his hand away. Feisty.
If you didn't want his fingers in your mouth, then he could just...wrap them around your neck. Just like he did moments before. He had you cowering yet it was obvious that you loved it. Adorable.
"You are gonna cancel on us when you're the one who invited us? We are all waiting for you." Jack's voice overturned Luke's grumbles. "Come on, man."
"Something came up. A meeting," he lied smoothly. "It might take an hour or maybe longer. Who fucking knows."
"Oh, what the hell," Luke grunted, sounding disappointed. "You said that lunch is your treat."
"It still is." He felt your pulse quicken as he undid his pants, his cock springing up immediately from his lack of briefs. "I'll send it to you. I have to go. Keep each other safe."
He discarded the phone as soon as he ended the call. He swallowed his groan when your shaky hand gently reached, wrapping around his cock. He hunched over you, his hand landing beside your head, sweat shining on skin. He liked your fucking touch. It was gentle. It was soft. It was teasing but it was clear that you didn't know what to do, so he let go of your neck, placing his hand over yours, guiding the pressure that you should be doing. A groan bubbled his throat, sounding like broken and feral animal on a prowl.
"Are you okay?" You asked. "Quinn—"
"Harder, my Love. I can fucking take it." He let go of you, pressing his forehead against yours, his breaths turning ragged. "Harder." His pre-cum dripped, leaking down from his slit to your pussy. "Let me remember your touch for days."
You followed him, tightening your grip. Your eyes were wide as your thumb tentatively swiped over his sensitive tip, gathering his pre-cum, using it as lube as you brough down your hand down his length. Your movements started as meek before you started jerking him off ruthlessly.
All Quinn could do was let out his groans and sighs, his eyebrows meeting, his lips pressing featherlight kisses on yours. He shuddered, rolling his hips in time. He was beyond ecstatic that he got to experience this.
"I want you," he confessed, grasping your hand away from his cock, bringing to his lips, licking at the mess he had left on palm, on your fingers, on your fucking wrist. "I want all of you." He pressed his wet and twitching length against your pussy, rubbing his tip on your clit, gasping when you moved to grind against him. "Do you want me?"
⊹˚.⟡˖ ࣪.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⋆✮⋆ ˖ ݁ 𖥔. ࣪˖⟡.˚⊹
You had never expected this. It was a crush. A forbidden one especially when you were still in a relationship, especially when the guy you were crushing on was your boyfriend's brother, especially when you had only met him for a couple of weeks. It was so difficult to stop.
Instead of being receiving a smug smile when you were caught staring at Jack, Quinn only smiled at you, a gentleness in his eyes, a hint of something more.
Instead of letting you lift anything heavier for long because you were capable of it, Quinn wordlessly take if off your hands, walking away before you could say thank you.
Instead of shutting you down when you were repeating a story or an event in your life, Quinn listened, leaning against the counter or leaning his forearms on his knees, giving you his full attention.
Instead of airing out your business to others whom you were still not comfortable with, Quinn kept everything you said to himself, frowning when Jack did so and changing the topic almost immediately, taking the unwanted attention away from you.
It wasn't helping when he looked more worn than Jack, when he was the one offering himself to be anyone's pillar, when he filled up the space with his energy no matter how silent he was, when started giving you more and more of his attention.
You were shrugging them off as your own delusions, but the more his knuckles grazed yours, the more his body pressed against you to reach something from the cabinets, the more his smiles turning more devious and dark, you were getting the vibe that your crush was not one sided. At all.
It didn't make anything right though. He was still Quinn Hughes, brother of Jack. You were still in a relationship, the only thing that made your meeting possible. It was wrong. So fucking wrong. You were scared, so scared that Jack would discover it, so scared that Quinn was simply testing you.
Oh, if it was, you'd already failed so many times.
The worst bit of it was that you didn't even feel guilty of failing. Yes, you were afraid that Jack loved you, but he never really shown it. Maybe it was because your relationship was still young and not as deep or sexual. It felt more of a friendship, a silent pact. You felt relieved when Quinn said that his brother would never love you. Yes, you were afraid how this would affect you and him, but fuck, you liked Quinn and somehow, for some insane reason, you also like Jack in a way. You were so fucked up and greedy, but you couldn't stop it.
So, when Quinn asked you if you want him, all you could do was break.
"Yes, I do," you replied, more sure than ever.
When his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing at your tears, you melted and held his arm, bracing yourself for what was to come.
"That's my sweet girl," he muttered with his soft and gentle tone, his tip finally slipping in you. He groaned, "Relax, my Love. "
You gasped at his words and at the stretch, your back arching as he sunk deeper and deeper. His sweet girl. His love. You hoped it was truth. You wanted to be his. You needed to be.
"Fuck," you gritted, your legs wrapping around his waist. "Oh, Quinn, you're so deep."
"I'm not even halfway in." He laughed. The sound was filled with dark amusement that had your hair on your nape to stand. "You're so fucking cute. Deep? I'll show you deep."
What have you done?
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Quinn was trying to go slow so he could show you that he could do it, but there was something about you gasping that he was deep that somehow felt like a challenge. How could he be deep when he was barely inside? How could he be fucking deep when he hadn't felt your pussy come around all of him? How? Were you mocking him?
He sat up, sitting back on his ankles, spreading his thighs apart. He gripped your hips, pulling you over his lap. Then he thrusted upwards, pushing more of him in, nearly coming at your squeeze, at the sound of your helpless scream. He pulled away to his tip, not seeing the slight redness around him, then thrusted back in you in one hard stroke.
"Was that deep too?" He taunted, his hands gripping your hips so tightly that you'd be bruised by tomorrow. Then his hand trailed over your pelvis, his thumb teasing at your clit, pushing down.
You mewled, nodding your head, your hair falling apart from your braid, your cheeks too splotchy and red. Your hand reached to your pebbled nipple poking through your dress, groping and teasing yourself, pulling your neckline down to show yourself to him.
You were going to be the death of him.
Quinn already knew that, but you reminded him of it every fucking second. He rutted into your pussy until his pelvis hit yours, until he had to grip your thighs to open you for his destruction. He experimented with different rhythms, different angles, different combinations, observing when you let out those tight moans, when you tried to push him off, when your walls convulsed as you came again and again.
"Quinn, please. this is too much," you cried, sobbing when he tugged your neckline further, ripping your dress. "Oh, god—"
"There is no god here." He spat, manhandling you to your knees, pulling you down on his cock. His palm hit your ass in an unforgiving spank. "Only me."
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You were filthy. You were breaking.
Your nails dug into the leather that was wet with your tears and your sweat. Your mouth was filled tasted like blood from your teeth sinking onto it. Your heart was pounding harder in your chest. Your lungs squeezed with every ruthless thrust of his cock hitting so deep inside of you that your eyes rolled upwards again as your sore pussy shook from your release.
It hurt. It hurt to come so much. It hurt to feel his blunt nails sinking into your flesh. It hurt but in a good fucking way that you found yourself clumsily meeting his deep and unhurried thrusts.
You could feel his cock twitch. You swore you could feel his hot pre-cum mixing with your arousal and cum. You peeked up at Quinn, twisting your head to the side.
He looked like an sex-driven animal. His wet and wavy hair fell on his temples. His sweat dripped on his skin, his chin, his pecs, his arms. His cheek were flushed. His tongue darted out to lick at his lower lip. His eyes were on where you two met before they lifted to meet yours, exposing how blown out his pupils were.
"Give me one more," he demanded, his hand sliding underneath your hip, finding your clit, torturing your oversensitized pussy. "One more, my Love. I'm close."
You choked on a wordless plea. You couldn't take it anymore. Another orgasm would destroy you, but instead of a complain, you weakly grinded against him, sobbing from the onslaught of an addicting pleasure that would lead you to ruins.
You came as his hot cum flooded your walls, your body tensing and shaking, your eyesight blurring and darkening.
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Quinn panted, forcing himself to move and to ride his cum deeper in your pussy. He cursed as he let out his last spurts, his hand grasping your ass, smoothening over your heated skin that he spanked way too fucking much. It took him a moment to settle himself, to level his breaths, to shake away the exhaustion creeping around him. It took him a moment to notice that you passed out. It took him a second to slip out of you with a groan.
He kept your lower half on his lap. He watched his cum dripped out of your well fucked cunt, so red and raw, so helpless as it clench on nothing. Poor pussy. He smirked, catching his cum with a finger, pushing it right back in you.
"Fuck, Quinn, please," you gasped, coming back to him. "I really can't anymore."
"Okay, my Love." He cooed, pulling out his cum slicked finger. He moved you both until he was laying down on the edge while you pressed against the back of the couch. He held you to him, not wanting to let go. He offered his finger. "Taste us."
Like a good girl, you did, your tongue innocently lapping at his finger, cleaning him up. Your eyelids were drooping, but you tried to stay awake as if...as if you were afraid that he'd leave if you did.
Quinn wouldn't. He swore he wouldn't.
"Sleep, my Love. I'll be here. I promise."
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Quinn had always been twisted. There was no questions about it. If he wasn't, there was no way he would've let you wear Jack's spear clothes after he showered you with praise as he bathed you. There was no way he would've nudged his brother to the seat next to you as he served up dinner. There was no way he would've acted like nothing happened, lying that you fell in the pool so you changed clothes, while he watched you freak out inwardly from how casual he was.
It was entertaining to see you cower from guilt especially when Jack pressed a kiss on your cheek, offering you a cookie he got for you.
While Jack and Luke were showering because they decided to stay for the night, you cornered him in the kitchen, your eyes were shining with tears. Your hands were shaking as you held them together.
"Quinn," you called, your voice breathy. "I..."
"Break up with him." Quinn loomed over you, taking a dangerous step to cage you against the counter, his foot nudging yours, signaling you to widen your stance so he could be closer. He tipped your chin with his knuckle. "Or not. I'd fuck you anyway, because you're mine, aren't you, my Love?"
You nodded, lifting to your tiptoes, initiating a kiss that he reciprocated.
His hands found your hip and your head, his tongue moving with yours, claiming not just your body but your soul. However, people always said that you would lose a person the same way you get them. That irritated the fuck out of him. The thought of you getting swayed by another. While he was confident that you wouldn't, he needed it to be clear.
He wrapped your hair around his hand, tugging you back forcefully, listening to your pained whine.
"You're only mine, my Love. I might've taken you from Jack, but I will never let you go," he voiced. "Is that clear?"
Like the sweet deceitful girl you were, you said, "Yes."
It is so hard to write about cheating. Holy fuck. Lock me up. DON'T EVER CHEAT!!!
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