A.N. MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE
Edit: I've fixed a couple things that might make this easier to read.
"I hate to think about you with somebody else. Our love has gone cold. You're intertwining your soul with somebody else."
"Can I help you?" Quinn opened her front door with a bored look on her face.
"How long are you going to be mad at me? It's starting to get annoying." Santana crossed her arms over her chest. Her jaw clenched and eyes locked in a semi-permanent glare.
"What makes you think I'm mad at you?" Quinn frowned stubbornly.
"Oh, I get it now. You're stupid. Can't believe I hadn't noticed it sooner."
"Now, hold on." Quinn held up a hand.
Santana poked a finger in Quinn's chest, "You think you're all high and mighty just because you haven't slept with anybody else. I have needs, Quinn! You don't get to decide who I do or don't sleep with."
Quinn backed further into the apartment to avoid the probing finger. Santana followed her with a determined look in her eye. The door slammed shut behind her.
"You could have came to me!" Quinn hollered, an almost imperceptible growl bubbled beneath the words.
"Your child was sick!"
"You didn't know that!"
"What was I supposed to do? Walk over here and ask you if you were available, then when you inevitably no, head over to where I was going in the first place?" Santana sighed and shook her head, "One of us is missing the point, and it is not me."
Quinn scowled even harder somehow. Her jaw is clenched and she's looking at the framed picture just passed Santana's head.
"Are you 'having needs' right now?"
"I'm always 'having needs' because of stupid alphas like you!"
Before Santana can even blink, Quinn has her pressed against the nearest wall, with her lips on hers.
It's a lot of clashing teeth and nipped lower lips, and Santana whimpered desperately or maybe that was Quinn, they had somehow become so intertwined so quickly, it never became obvious.
Quinn nipped lightly at Santana's neck. A smirk danced across her kiss swollen lips. Santana shuddered.
Santana's back arched away from the wall as Quinn's hand traveled down her still clothed stomach and into her jeans.
Quinn groaned, "You're soaked." She pulled her hand back from its destination part way before returning.
"So I've been told."
Quinn growled lowly, "Really, now you're being an ass on purpose. You want to be petty right now? With my hand down your pants?"
"What better time than the present?"
Quinn's fingers traced the outline of Santana's folds lightly, occasionally, grazing over her clit. Her movement is hindered by the tightness of Santana's jeans, but she's determined to get Santana off like this first.
So, she pushed her her hand back down roughly. The heel of her palm brushed harshly against Santana's center. Her fingers circling the omega's entrance.
"Well, if you're so keen on talking during this, now would be the perfect time for you to beg."
Santana choked down a whimper, "Y-You know, you're at like the perfect distance for me to knee your dick into your throat, right?"
"I'm not hearing a no..."
"You talk so much and what's horrible is that no one would believe me if I told the-Fuck" Quinn mentally patted herself on the back for that one. Her index finger curled slightly inside of Santana.
Santana couldn't have even begun to choke back the resulting whimper.
"You were saying?" A raised eyebrow accompanied her smirk. Santana made sure to clench her eyes shut, at risk of seeing that and clipping Quinn in the throat in retaliation or something.
"Do you make it your mission to be this insufferable?" Santana bit her lip as Quinn pulled her hand out once again. She absolutely refused to beg, or do anything that would suggest she wanted Quinn to put her hand back out of pure spite.
Quinn or her part, wasn't even thinking about that anymore. She had foregone her original plan. Santana wasn't cooperating and Quinn's straining painfully against her own shorts.
She leaned in to nip at Santana's s neck again. Her nose pressed firmly to her scent gland.
Quinn never answered the question.
Instead, she dipped her thumbs into the waistband of Santana's jeans and underwear. She pushed them down enough so they were out of her way.
"Quinn." Santana breathed out, she was suddenly facing the wall. Quinn pressed against her lightly.
She could feel Quinn. Her arousal. Her breathe on her shoulder. Her hands roaming underneath her shirt, she has a feeling Quinn won't bother to take that off of her.
Her suspicions are confirmed when there's a rustling of clothing, none of which involve anything she's still technically wearing. The heat of Quinn's body left for about all of three seconds, before she returns sans shorts.
Quinn chuckled into Santana's ear, "Is this how you thought your morning would go when you woke up. Me, you, and this wall?"
Santana pressed her overheated face onto said wall. The cold drywall cooled her face almost immediately, "Oh my God."
"Cat got your tongue?"
Something like that.
Quinn nestled nicely between Santana's thighs. Her hips slowly pumping back and forth.
Santana groaned, "Quinn, please. I want you inside me."
Quinn resisted the urge to fist pump, "Since you asked so nicely. I'm never letting you live this down, by the way."
Santana's sure under any other circumstances, she would have kicked Quinn's feet out from under her, but Quinn's finally inside her and she's not even totally sure what she was even thinking about three seconds earlier.
"Don't think this means I'm not still mad at you." Santana huffed petulantly as she adjusted all of her clothing back onto her body, the way it had been when she came in
"Yeah, I'm not too thrilled with you either at the moment. Truce?" Quinn shuffled back into her shorts. She held out her hand toward Santana.
Santana just stared at it, "Fine, truce." Her brows furrowed for a second before widening comically, "Where's your kid?"
Quinn looked back at her confused for a moment, "Kid? What ki-Oh! She's at my parents for the week. You didn't think I'd have sex with you in my living room if she was here, did you? Of course not, I'd do it in the kitchen."
"I really can't stand you." Santana rolled her eyes before heading for the door.
"Then why do you keep talking to me?"
"Because Brittany's already mated!" Santana shouted over her shoulder.
"Hey! Low blow!"
Santana only laughed as she exited the apartment.
She hates Whole Foods. She really does, but Beth's got allergies and it's the easiest place to shop for her.
She figured now was a good time to go grocery shopping. She wouldn't have to deal with the ankle biter pointing to every single flavor of Cheerios she recognized and pouting until Quinn put it into the basket.
Speaking of Cheerios, Quinn found herself in the cereal aisle. She grabbed a large box of plain Cheerios for Beth, then Lucky Charms for herself.
She was about to continue down the aisle, when her cart clipped someone in the back of the ankle.
"Sorry about that."
The owner of the ankle turned around with an easy smile.
"It's all good."
Quinn's face lit up with recognition, only for it to practically get slapped off her face with recognition of a different variety.
Quinn is suddenly struck with the urge to maybe punch this woman in the face, she eventually decided that probably wasn't a good look.
Quinn assumed she can probably sense it on her too and that's not good.
She breifly wondered if they were going to have to fight in the cereal aisle of this local Whole Foods, but then the other woman just says, "Hey, Quinn. Long time no see."
"Yeah. It's been a while, Rachel."
Rachel nodded resolutely before going about her business. Trying to get away from Quinn as quickly as possible.
Quinn decided to too, groceries be damned.
"You know it's no fun if you don't help." Santana smiled, she stared at Quinn for a minute, waiting for her to respond.
Quinn was supposed to be helping her clean her apartment. Instead, she had just been standing near her front door for the better part of 15 minutes. When Quinn doesn't say anything, Santana just goes back to cleaning with a small frown.
It isn't until 15 more minutes pass, that Quinn actually does speak. Santana will forever fondly remember this next part as 'My Worst Nightmare Come To Life'.
"Do I even have a chance?" Quinn wasn't looking at her. She only stared at the ceiling. Her hands clench to fists in her joggers pockets.
"What are you talking about?" Santana asked softly. She slowly placed her cleaning supplies onto the sofa.
"You have Rachel Fucking Berry knocking on your door, and you still give me the time of day? Why?" Quinn's shoulders shrugged nearly to her ears. She wrestled herself off the wall, then let her eyes drift to Santana.
"Because I-" Santana's chest hurt. Her eyes stung, and her head ache. She felt like she was curling in on herself.
This was the very thing she didn't want to happen. She was supposed to choose one of them before they found out, so she didn't lose both of them.
"I thought-I thought. I don't know what I thought, but it doesn't matter anymore." Quinn glared, not necessarily at Santana Just at life in general. She glared at the very unfortunate hand she had been dealt.
"Wait. How did-Do you know Rachel?"
Quinn shrugged again, "We went to high school together, were in Glee Club. But that's irrelevant. You could have told me. I wouldn't have gotten mad or anything. Or stopped letting you see Beth. Dammit, always second place."
"Qu-Quinn, you're not second place." Santana choked on a sob. She can feel it. Quinn's pulling away from her. And she sort of feels like she's been torn in two.
"So, I'm first?" Quinn looked back up at her slowly. A subtle hopeful look bled into her eyes.
"Quinn, I-" Santana swallowed harshly.
"Yeah. It sounds like you have a choice to make. You know where to find me." Quinn rubbed the back of neck, then headed for the door.
"Quinn please." Santana went to reach for Quinn's hand but stopped herself.
"I'm just going to head out." Quinn placed her hand on the door knob. She only hesitated a few beats before shaking her head and opening it.
"Q..." The tears are leaking from her eyes in full force now. Quinn continued to walk out the door.
It doesn't slam shut behind her, which Santana appreciated.
She wondered if she should call Rachel, but she doesn't think she could handle her not picking up. She's not even sure if she could handle Rachel actually picking up either, for that matter.
What would she even say?
That she was sorry? That she didn't mean to hurt anyone?
It all seemed a little too late for that.
A.N. For those of you who can write smut without even batting an eye. I commend you, because it is so draining for me. But I do my best.
Fun fact: In my original draft Rachel had a kid several years older than Beth. But I eventually decided against that, because it would have made Quinn and Rachel's situations a bit too similar and the whole point of this is that they're two very different people who make very different decisions and live very different lives.