Disclaimer: I'm in university, nothing but massive student debt is mine.
Spoilers: Kind of, the most recent episode Vitamin D. However, if you haven't watched it, nothing will be spoiled, you just won't understand the context :P
Author's Note: Written for the lovely people over at the Quinn/Rachel thread at Gleeforums. If you aren't on there, I highly suggest it. Unbeata'd, written while hopped up on cold meds and so forth. Enjoy!
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Quinn had to do some pretty hard imagining when it came to Rachel Berry.
She imagined dark hair. Tangled and sweat-soaked, and splayed across rumpled white sheets while fingers dragged lightly over gleaming skin.
She imagined Rachel's high-pitched and all too enthusiastic voice reduced to a hoarse whisper or perhaps a sultry growl as their legs entwined.
She thought of how Rachel's breath would catch, and her back would arch as Quinn's lips found their way past the brunette's navel. Fingernails digging into her shoulders, pushing the straps of the cheerleading uniform down, while she bit lightly on those full lips.
The blonde imagined holding tight to her nemesis (was that term even applicable anymore?) as she trembled and ecstasy ripped from her mouth. The warmth and scent of some sort of exotic fruit that was undoubtedly the result of hair conditioner, would engulf the cheerleader's senses, making her head buzz with delight.
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Quinn imagined all of this and more. Countless minutes of her school day were spent staring at those tantalizingly short skirts and tight sweaters. Quinn felt like a thirteen year old boy, and she hated every second of it.
Because what she did not imagine were the looks between Rachel and Finn. The blatant, undeniable lust that resided behind those dark eyes, directed at him, and not her.
So Quinn would retreat to a bathroom and lock herself in a stall to scrawl crude and anatomically correct pictures. She felt petty and vindictive and pathetic. But her dreams would never become reality. It was only a matter of time before Finn got to experience those lips, and that impossibly smooth skin, and those legs.
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The pen snapped under Quinn's straining fingers, coating them in black ink. She dropped the ruined implement to the linoleum and balled her hands ups, tears threatening to spill.
She would never have Rachel, but if she humiliated and exposed her enough, perhaps no one else would want her either.