A/n: had a dream that Quinn was a cricketer. Don't know why but it was sorta perfect.
Quinn stared up at the ceiling. She'd been doing so for the last thirty minutes.
All the wonderful little things she had done to Rachel since freshman year were circling her brain.
A small part of her welcomed those thoughts, because she was at least familiar with the protocol when confronted with ugly mistakes. Internalize the daylights out of them.
She felt like her head was shrinking to to fit snuggly around cruel reflection, but she didn't mind because it stopped her from having to deal with…
"Quinn."
She counted the planks in the hardwood ceiling.
"Quinn."
Forty-eight
"You can't ignore me if you're in my bed," Rachel said, huffing when Quinn continued to do just that.
The bed dipped momentarily and then Quinn found herself with a lapful— well, ribs full— of Rachel Berry.
Quinn continued to stare at the ceiling without even so much as a polite hello for the naked girl sitting on top of her.
"I know what I did was objectionable, but I'd appreciate it if we could be adults about it," Rachel said, but Quinn could hardly acknowledge the diplomacy when a mixture of both of them was still there between Rachel's legs…still so warm.
"I appreciate the tact, really I do, but we're not girlfriends and no lines were seriously blurred here." she lied "Call off the high council meeting, okay."
They'd been sharing looks of shocked realization instead of making concrete declarations for the last hour (on Quinn's part at least) so any feelings at this point were moot and completely deniable. Thank God.
"Just what do I do when your walls are so firmly back in place?" Rachel asked softly.
Quinn smiled, grabbing Rachel's hips before pushing her a bit further south.
"Climb."
"You're a funny, funny girl." Rachel sighed as she pulled the zipper down "It's a wonder everyone thinks you're so serious."
...
They were completely naked as Rachel ground herself slowly against Quinn's lap.
Rachel licked her own lips and then leaned down to Quinn, who petulantly turned her head to the side at the last second.
"So I can't kiss you anymore?" Rachel's voice was a little too husky to come out flabbergasted. She rolled her eyes and straightened her back.
Quinn watched hazily as little miss diva storm off attempted to live up to her name without leaving the room.
Rachel sort of angrily bounced, using her knees to keep her balance while focusing on a spot on the wall before her. Her hands moved from pale shoulders to rest in her own hair, so she wouldn't have to touch the jerk who was currently pissing her off.
Quinn felt guilty for all of a few seconds then said, "Your pout doesn't make things worse, as a matter of fact…"
She palmed the globes of Rachel's ass and just as she'd rested her feet flat against the bed, a phone rang.
They froze.
The ring sounded muffled. Quinn realized it came from the bedhead area and shot her hand out for it. She touched the sweater-like material of Rachel's argyle skirt and the phone fell out of the pocket into her palm.
The name on the blackberry made her raise her eyebrow. She'd always thought Rachel's dad's ringtone was Cabaret by Liza, but whatever this was probably her second favorite father or something. Somehow the crisp, analog Breakfast at Tiffany's ring still seemed like the Rachel Berry thing to do.
When Rachel finally sobered up she grabbed for the phone, but Quinn's reflex was faster so she intercepted, and held her by the wrist.
Rachel tried to reach with the other hand, but Quinn thrusted up so quickly and so forcefully that she could only yelp and catch herself with her free hand so she wouldn't smash head first into Quinn or the bed head. That left Rachel balancing mostly on her flattened palm right by Quinn's head.
All this happened between the space of four rings. Quinn smirked when she realized how they were wrapped up in each other like a perverted spin off of Twister.
"You wouldn't," Rachel said, warningly.
Of course she would, because that would solidify that this was all a game to her; at least one of them had to believe that.
Quinn an the vibrating head of the phone across Rachel's pouting lips; her smile teased in the wickedest way.
"Hello."
Quinn hooked the phone between her shoulder and her ear and reached up to play with Rachel's bottom lip. She hadn't expected to be granted entry, so the sensory overload made her pinch the sheet with her toes.
"No, this is Rachel's friend—Quinn," she said, flexing her jaw a little while she waited for the inevitable blow up. Her name had to be trash in this house. Honestly, she couldn't object given her current brazenness.
Quinn's eyebrows shot up and Rachel stared down curiously.
"Well it's nice to hear from you too Mr. Berry"
She tried to pull her thumb out Rachel's mouth, when she realized that she wasn't as good a juggler as she assumed. She was so close to moaning and telling whichever Mr. Berry this was what she planned to do with that talented, talented mouth sucking on her. Rachel caught on apparently, and decided to keep her locked in the awkward position— via teeth.
"She can't right now— I spilled something on her—" Rachel bit down so hard that Quinn had to swallow her yelp "—on her autographed Wicked playbill. I hear her groaning my name and cursing my existence from the bathroom every few seconds—Yes sir, A hole heap of trouble, you don't know the half of it—I guess you do know—I will, and it was nice talking to you too. Bye."
Quinn thanked God that she'd rainmaned Rachel's room when she came in—otherwise she couldn't have pulled that story so seamlessly out of her ass.
Rachel let the thumb slip from her lips with a wet pop and then prompted, impatiently, "Well?"
"He said I should make it up to you," Quinn said as she released Rachel's wrist so she could moved the phone from her ear. She checked to see if the call had disconnected, before throwing it carelessly on the bed.
"My father doesn't think I'm that ridiculous, by the way. He knows when he's being bullshitted and he probably thinks you're some asshole convict and that I'm getting raped and murdered in the next room."
Quinn closed one eye and pictured the stomp and the harrumph that would have completed this little fit.
"Of course your dad thinks you're that ridiculous and you just proved why, and don't talk about rape while I'm inside you—I'll wilt," Quinn said, frowning.
The sweat was already beading on her brow as she grabbed Rachel's hips again.
Rachel narrowed her eyes "You think I give two shits about catering to your needs after that? Go ahead and wilt for all I care…just shrivel up!"
"Yeah, you don't mean that," Quinn said smugly sliding her dick in and out of Rachel, she swore that it came out wetter every time . "I can tell."
Rachel deflated as she swayed back and forth, biting her lip for a few tense seconds to keep secret the effects Quinn had on her.
The way Rachel's breasts jiggled with each thrust made Quinn regret her new unofficial no kissing rule ( which prohibited her from putting her mouth anywhere on Rachel). There was something about her lips on Rachel's body that produced the chemical reaction for bad decisions; it had from day one at Santana's party.
Plus, if this was the last roll in the hay then staying detached was then name of the game.
"Be that as it may, it's insulting to my abilities that you can form whole sentences while we're..." Rachel clenched down to make her point.
Quinn's brow flew up at the double standard then said, "I guess I just acclimated." She stood her ground because Rachel couldn't see her crossing and uncrossing her toes from their current position.
Rachel just clenched her jaws and stared a bit, before reaching back and pushing Quinn's knees flat on the bed and then rotating until she was facing away from her.
When she settled in like a real cowgirl in reverse, Quinn's hands immediately went back to the small of her back and her shoulder then she sneered and said, "That's right, yeah, mix it up. You should spin around on my fucking cock more often you little—" suddenly the words choked off into embarrassing little keening noises that she just couldn't get a hold of "wait—I won't last—uhhfuck—please."
"Acclimated, huh." Quinn could almost see the smugness curling around Rachel's words.
None of those etiquette classes that had been forced upon Quinn as a child could teach her respect and manners quite like Rachel.
"Fu-uck, Rae."
Quinn wasn't sure how much more of Rachel's showing off she could take; the way she rocked down and squeezed her cock…fucking chocked it.
She reached around, gripping right under Rachel's breast and pulled until she laid flat-backed against her pale chest.
"Put your feet on my thighs," Quinn instructed as she flattened her own feet against the bed, and held Rachel around her middle.
"Why—what are you doing?"
"Making it up to you."
Rachel squealed a little when she was suddenly hoisted up and Quinn chuckled breathily under the strain.
Quinn's lithe body, wrapped in tight sinewy muscle, gave her an almost delicate appearance, but the instant she tensed it was a whole different story; her body tightened and hummed with the power she'd unleash on Rachel at any moment. She supported both their weight at a near forty-five degree angle with ease.
Out of the goodness of her heart she decided to give Rachel a little time to adjust; only to find out the ungrateful little brat was subtly trying to get herself off unassisted.
The fucking gall.
Quinn knew she couldn't just fuck the way she wanted to so she held on to Rachel's body and vibrated her hips.
"Oh…Gawwd..Oh!"Rachel sounded like she was using a jackhammer and…well.
"Tell me how much you like it," Quinn growled. She couldn't help the little sneer that crept into her features when Rachel tried failingly to respond.
When Quinn finally stilled her hips, Rachel choked out "You're so skilled—so good."
"You're getting off on the fact alone, aren't you," Quinn said, smirking before starting up again.
Even when muscles in her back and thighs started burning she ignored it, because all she could focus on was how she was essentially covered in Rachel: her silky soft hair which was slowly trying to takeover Quinn's face; her body slicked with sweat almost sliding off each other with each frenzied movement; her scorching heat… her cum.
When Rachel's legs slipped from her thighs, Quinn let herself fall back against the sheets, so she could seize one of Rachel's tits and play with her clit.
Quinn spasmed when she felt Rachel's most intense feelings dripping out her pussy and running down her sack.
"You're making a hot sticky mess of your bed—c'mon, ahhh, open up—let me help you clean up." Rachel sucked off the three wet fingers that prodded her lip. "Good girl."
Quinn continued grinding up into Rachel's pussy with her fingers deep in the girl's throat until pre-cum started spilling out of her warningly.
"I wanna try something," Quinn husked as she pulled her fingers out of Rachel's mouth.
Rachel missed a few of her shallow breaths when Quinn tried to force two of her saliva soaked fingers to join her dick inside Rachel.
"Oh my God no! —I can't." Poor Rachel was suddenly caught between intense arousal and fear. She shivered on top of Quinn.
"Kidding-kidding, you're too tight for that," Quinn chuckled, sometimes she was uniquely aware of her own cruelty.
"Bastard. Just fuck me harder before I throw you out," Rachel groaned, twisting, arching, pretty much trying to milk Quinn from her slightly awkward position on top.
Quinn decided that she wasn't going to come embarrassingly early, twice in one afternoon. She broke her own rule, and pressed the lightest of kisses to the back of Rachel's head and rolled them over.
"You're greedier than usual. What's the matter, couldn't get it from whomever as good as I give it?" Quinn put her fingers between the mattress and Rachel's dripping cunt then she spread the folds, cruelly exposing the raw nerves to the sheets.
"Shut up and get me off," Rachel said, and a growling little whine followed when Quinn fucked her deeper into the sheets.
"Touchy."
"Well, I'm pissed at you"
"I ga-thered."
"Do you care?" Rachel's voice was suddenly less breathless. That forced level of control sent off warning signals to Quinn.
"No," Quinn said, perfectly timed and toned.
"Does it matter how I feel about any of this?" Rachel tried again, tangling her fingers in Quinn's hair and pressing her closer to her ear.
"No." Quinn's hot breath pushed against the shell of Rachel's ear "Not in the least, because in these last few weeks I finally got to fuck you…it was the only thing I wanted out of you. I'm so ready to forget that all of this happened, even if I got a little confused somewhere in the middle. I couldn't care less about your little hang ups."
Quinn cringed and sent up prayers at the same time. On one hand she hoped that was enough to nip this nonsense in the bud and on the other…
"I see, but what do mean by finally Quinn…nnn… because you've always done that— can't remember a time when you weren't fucking me up, over or sideways." It wasn't so much the words as it was the playful tone that Quinn immediately hated.
"Seconds ago you wanted me to shut up can we go back to that. Now is not the time for conversation," She hissed, as she pushed in and out of Rachel forcefully enough to make the bed creak.
"Oh it isn't? But I finally have your full attention. We should talk—we really fucking should." Rachel bent her knees and locked her legs with Quinn's which made it difficult for either of them to move freely.
"Rachel," Quinn said, warningly, pinching her where she was most sensitive.
"A-about the little things, silly." Rachel responded, forcefully removing Quinn's fingers from her clitoris.
Quinn made a little frustrated noise and tried roll her body into Rachel, because she found that was usually the best way to distract her.
"Oooh! Little things like that—" she took a few seconds to steady her breathing "We should talk about that, Quinn. You're such a little dancer—even right now. Most of the dancers I've seen move like water but you, you are water, you know. It's your element, I swear. Like the way you move through me, around me, the way you soak me—"
Quinn suddenly missed tantrums and diva storm offs. She slipped her hand up past Rachel's sternum, dipping past her collar bones, before landing on her neck. She rubbed the skin where Rachel's vocal chords vibrated, and continued her whispered chant. shut up. shut up. fucking shut up
Rachel just giggled and continued in that lilting tone as if she hadn't heard.
"—The way you thrash against me and absolutely wreck my foundation of beliefs. You make me want you in spite of myself. None of the games I play will ever change that. Weeeird, huh." She tightened her grip in Quinn's hair "But I have to say that I'm happy, thrilled, really, that you can decide to just fuck me and be done with me. So you go ahead and you fuck me, baby, any which way you want," Rachel finished by unlocking their legs and letting her fingers fall back to the bed.
When Rachel said those words, all Quinn heard was how she'd forgotten how to hate her and maybe she needed a little refresher course; maybe that was the key to ending this.
Regardless of how much like real feelings Rachel's word seemed, this thing had messy, hurtful ending written all over it.
It was the thing with her dad all over again— he had the ability to hurt her even if she'd been given a four page letter a year earlier warning her of the exact moment of his betrayal. She'd actually been wary of him since the day he offered her a beer and asked her exactly what she knew about baseball stats.
With Rachel her defenses had been completely down for the summer with the exception of the last few days. She must have really hit her head hard somewhere along the line to have been completely at ease with Berry of all people.
Quinn's philosophy while ruling the halls of McKinley was that she could never resign herself to the fate she deserved. It didn't matter how many slushies she issued and how many cutting remarks she made, it wasn't in her job description to give free passes to the hurt parties.
The fact is Rachel initially intended to hurt her, regardless of how things played out.
Now that the fog around her brain had cleared there was only one reasonable course of action.
She pulled out of Rachel, which took a monkish amount of self control, and moved to stand beside the bed.
"C'mere."
Rachel crawled across the bed and Quinn tilted her head as she took in the sight.
"Kneel down," Quinn said, stroking herself a few times.
Rachel complied, looking up at Quinn in a way that was halfway between seething and crestfallen.
And fuck it, she could be that horrible little bitch that Rachel needed to exact revenge on. The HBIC had never left the building she was only dormant. So what if she'd spent the summer being a sap in cargo pants, covered in bicycle grease, having deep meaningful conversations about the proper way to eat a mango.
It didn't matter in the least that her pleated cheerio skirts and sundresses were pressed and propped up in her closet; she could still pull on that veneer without the uniforms.
She could tell manhands Rupaul Berry (it didn't matter how painfully those insults reflected on her) to suck her cock like a good little slut. Then she'd question her about her other little trysts while she made damn sure Rachel could hardly breathe much less respond.
Damn it all to hell, she could do all those things, but she instead chose to stare down at Rachel flexing her jaw and furrowing her brows.
The demon on Quinn's shoulder told her is was time to run and the angel on the other shoulder agreed.
"What are you waiting for?" Rachel asked glaring up at her. Her eyes were slightly red, which Quinn attributed to sweat stinging them the moment she noticed.
"This is fucking ridiculous." Quinn kneeled, facing Rachel and held onto her shoulders "Why are you pushing this so much now?"
Rachel stared at her for a long time then said,"Because this is my first strike, barely one at that, and I'm allowed to get off scotch free and I'm allowed to have you with no residual guilt— I get to have you and keep you, because you owe—" she swallowed her words and continued in a less petulant tone "You don't get to deny this summer out of existence and then run away…that is what you're doing isn't it."
The longer Quinn stared the more she felt like a Barbra Streisand solo up for grabs in gleecub…the one Rachel felt so entitled to that she forgot to give a valid argument to get it. Mine mine mine fuck you..mine.
Quinn smiled and knocked her forehead into Rachel's "Such a bad answer."
"I don't really give a damn," Rachel whispered.
Quinn's leaned back inches, her eyes darted from Rachel's eyes to her lips. She leaned in slowly, pressing a fleeting kiss to Rachel's lips—she tasted their come with a little too much salt…tears she finally acquiesced. When she pulled back they were both open mouthed and hungry.
Her eyes were already drunkenly half closed when she tried to go back for more, but then Rachel's breath hitch in anticipation and it was enough to pull her out of the haze.
She stared frustratedly at Rachel's soft inviting lips for a few more seconds, convinced the girl was part siren, then she rocked back on her heels, stood up and left the room.