A/N: TRIGGER WARNINGS: SELF-HARM & ALCOHOL ABUSE
This actually ended up being quite dark. Please mind the warning, it's there for a reason. Sorry it took so long for me to write this chapter, it was tough to write. I don't know if this is the end.. I may continue if I find some inspiration for it.
"Ok, so talk," Rachel said softly but determined, her eyes dropping to the ground as if she knew Quinn was about to take back everything that happened the night before.
"Let's just eat breakfast first," Quinn sighed, keeping her attention on the pantry in front of her, knowing that if she even chanced a look at Rachel she might crumble into a million pieces.
"No," Rachel replied firmly and with such force it caused Quinn's eyes to snap towards her in surprise, "No. I don't want to choke down bits of food and pretend that I'm ok, Quinn. I would rather discuss this matter now." On that last word, Rachel grabbed the cosmopolitan from Quinn's hand, placed it on the counter, out of Quinn's reach and folded her arms across her chest. "So talk."
Quinn bit down on her lip, trying to contain the anger that stemmed from the smaller girl taking her soothing beverage, but it spilled over and suddenly she was yelling words that she wasn't even sure made sense together in a sentence. "Fine Rachel, I'll talk to you. I know your type, Rachel."
"My type," Rachel repeated, raising an eyebrow, her stance was still steady, but her voice wavered slightly after Quinn had raised her voice to her. The way that Quinn spoke, even if the words weren't hurtful yet, there was such a coldness to her that it made her very uncomfortable.
"You can't see things for what they really are. You make everything into a fairytale," Quinn said, her eyes drifting to the lonely drink on the counter, beckoning for her, and she wished that it was safely back in her grasp, where she could hold it against her like a security blanket.
"I don't understand," Rachel said, when Quinn hadn't continued, and she stepped to the side, moving in front of the drink and forcing Quinn to look at her.
Quinn shook her head again. Even she wasn't sure exactly what she was trying to say. Instead of watching the dark haired girl sleep, she should have been rehearsing this inevitable speech that she knew they would be having. Closing her eyes for a moment she gathered her thoughts and began again slowly, "Last night, we were both drunk."
"Actually," Rachel interrupted, "If you recall we were both sober by the time we-"
No. Quinn screamed in her head so she didn't have to hear the last words Rachel spoke. She had to have been drunk last night. There was no way that Quinn Fabray would have sex with another girl unless she had been intoxicated, especially if that girl was Rachel Berry. There was no way she was gay and there was no way that she had any sort of feelings for the loser in front of her.
"We were both drunk," Quinn said again, ignoring Rachel. "It could have been anyone that I had brought home last night. I went to that party looking for sex, you were just the first person to stumble my way, and I was too drunk to care who it was."
Quinn knew it was a blatant lie. She hadn't gone to the party looking for sex, sure she had wanted companionship, some guy to tell her how beautiful she was and that she was the most amazing girl in the entire world, but sex was different. It didn't matter what the kids at McKinley had thought of her, she knew that before last night, the one and only time she had had sex in her life was with Puck, and it was terrible. After that, sex never sounded good again. Except, then there was Rachel.
"Why are you being so mean," Rachel whispered and Quinn watched as her beautiful brown eyes reddened and swelled as the smaller girl tried to hold back her tears.
Quinn laughed bitterly, a laugh so sickening it even surprised herself, and she sucked in all of her strength to continue, "Because you need to know, Rachel. You need to know that it didn't mean anything to me. I needed someone and you were just there."
Rachel's mouth opened and closed a couple times as she tried to speak, but the tears began rolling down her cheeks and all she could manage was a hiccup. There was a sudden pain in Quinn's chest, a pain so strong she thought she might pass out, and she felt her eyes begin to sting with the threat of tears. She forced her eyes closed, biting back the tears and not letting Rachel see any weakness, not letting her see that it was all just a big lie.
"God, Rachel," Quinn shouted, angrily, "What did you think? We would have sex and then suddenly we'd be in some kind of gay relationship and we'd walk down the halls of McKinley in September holding hands, sing duets to each other in Glee club and be prom queen and queen?"
Rachel shook her head and covered her face in her hands, shielding herself from Quinn's angry glare. Quinn grabbed Rachel's wrists, hard enough to bruise the soft flesh, and pried them away from her face, "You need to see, in my eyes, that it meant nothing to me, Rachel. I don't care about you, Man-hands. Do you see it?"
"I trusted you, with every part of me," Rachel screamed at her, tearing herself from Quinn's hold, her mouth open in shock as the tears rolled down her cheeks in waves. "I let you-. Who was with me last night? It wasn't you. I have no idea who you are." She darted towards the kitchen doorway. She stopped midway and turned, and Quinn prepared herself for a long Rachel Berry lecture, or some more hateful words that she would leave her with, but instead what Rachel did was not at all what she was expecting. Reaching under her short skirt, Rachel pulled down the pink thong and threw it at Quinn before finishing her exit out of the room. Quinn held the panties tightly in her hand as she closed her eyes and winced as the front door to her house was slammed shut.
She quickly grabbed for her drink, chugging the entire contents of the glass before slamming it back onto the counter. The tears that she had been holding back flowed freely from her eyes and she tried to angrily wipe them away, scratching at her cheeks with her nails as she did. Why did this bother her so much? Why did she care that she had just caused Rachel to run crying from her house? She used to take pride in making her cry. She used to love to torture her. So why did she now suddenly feel like she was about to throw up?
She did throw up. She had just enough warning to move her head over the sink as the contents of her stomach, which was all alcohol, was emptied. She turned on the tap once she had nothing else to vomit, and began washing her face off with the cold water.
She needed to go after her. She needed to make it right. She didn't know what she needed to say to her, but she knew that she couldn't leave it the way it was. She also knew that she couldn't let Rachel walk all the way to her house, crying. What if something happened to her?
Quinn quickly screwed off the top of a bottle of vodka and drank back as much as she could, before grabbing her car keys and heading out of the house. Somewhere in her mind she knew that she shouldn't be driving, that even though she hadn't had enough alcohol to be drunk and that she had thrown up most of it, she still should not have been getting behind the wheel. She didn't care, though.
She drove down the street, but couldn't find Rachel anywhere. She drove further on towards Rachel's house, trying to decide how far Rachel could have gotten in the amount of time that had passed, but when she neared Rachel's house and still had not seen her, she decided to turn around and go back home. What was she doing following Man-hands anyway?
When Quinn got home, she grabbed the bottle of vodka from the kitchen, and a bottle of rum for good measure, and headed back up to her room.
She closed the door behind her and set the bottles down on her desk, staring at the empty bed with the sheets still turned back and crumpled as they had left it. Her eyes fell to the ground and caught sight of small pair of white panties Rachel had left behind and Quinn lost it again. She leapt through the hall and made it to the bathroom just in time to vomit into the toilet. She blamed it on the alcohol. It couldn't possibly have anything to do with the empty ache in her chest or pit in her stomach that throbbed whenever Rachel entered her thoughts.
Rising from her perch by the toilet, she brushed her teeth and splashed some cold water on her face. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and the reflection was unfamiliar. She looked sickly. Her face was pale and thin and she looked like a survivor from one of those horrible prisons where they starve and beat you. She was about to leave, but her eyes found something in the mirror that made her pause. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub was her razor and for some reason that she couldn't comprehend, she picked it up and took it with her as she left the bathroom.
Closing the door to her room, she took the bottle of vodka and sat back on her bed, sipping it from the bottle as she stared down at the razor in her hand. She broke apart the plastic and slid the blades out easily, turning them over in her hands before finally setting them down on her nightstand.
She awoke several hours later, disoriented and unable to recall when she had fallen asleep. Her cheeks were soaked and fresh tears were rolling down them, but she had no idea why she was crying. For a brief moment she could not remember a single thing, until suddenly everything came flooding back to her. The party, the most amazing night with Rachel, and then all of those horrible lies that she had told her. It all seemed like a dream, but she was painfully aware that it wasn't.
It was nighttime now and her room was dark and lonely. She found the bottle of vodka lying next to her and tossed her head back to guzzle down as much as she could in one breath. Something shiny on her nightstand caught her eye and she recapped the bottle and set it down before turning her attention towards the object. It was the razor blade. She picked it up, careful not to nick her fingers on the sharp edges, and stared at it for minutes.
She didn't want to die, she wasn't ready for that, but she was so tired of feeling so numb about everything. She just wanted to feel something, something that was real. She took a deep breath as she lowered the blade to her wrist and lightly dragged the blade over the tender flesh. A tiny bead of red appeared from a spot where the blade had dug into her skin, but it was mostly a light scratch and not enough. So she tried again with more confidence and pushed the blade into her skin as she drew another line. This time the blood angrily seeped through the cut and dribbled down the sides of wrists. Quinn was fascinated as she watched it flow, crisscrossing into patterns along her hand and dripping off her finger tips, but it still wasn't enough. She didn't feel anything more than a light stinging.
Angry that she couldn't even do this right, she chose another spot on her wrist, away from her prominent veins and pushed the blade in as hard as she could. She was only able to drag it back a little ways before a choked scream of pain flew from her lips and pulled the blade from her wrist, tossing it onto her nightstand. Her entire hand and wrist was stained with the fresh red that was dripping onto her bed sheets and grey shorts.
"What am I doing," she cried out to herself, through tears of pain and misery. What the fuck is wrong with me?
She grabbed for the vodka and took a few sips, when the image of Rachel entered her mind once again. Over and over and over again Rachel was always there in her mind. She hated it. She hated that she couldn't understand why she thought of that fashion loser more than anyone else. Why did it have to be Rachel Berry? Why did she crave the feeling of her soft tan skin beneath her finger tips? Why did she crave the taste of Rachel's lips as much as she craved the vodka beside her? Why was the loud cry Rachel had made in ecstasy still echoing through her ears and arousing her more than anything ever had? Why did she hate herself so much for saying those things to her? Why did she need her so bad right now?
She needed Rachel. She needed Rachel in her arms again. She didn't know why that loser was the only person in the world that could make her feel something, but it was real, and Quinn needed her now.
She jumped off her bed with her vodka in hand and threw on a large grey hoodie from her closet. It had been Puck's, but he had given it to her near the end of her pregnancy when nothing was fitting anymore, and as she felt the material around her wrist begin to soak, she knew it would be the last time she would wear it.
She passed her mother who was asleep on the floor in the living room cuddling a bottle of rye like a teddy bear, and she watched her for a moment, just to make sure that she was breathing. Her chest was rising and falling in rhythm and, satisfied, Quinn tore out of her house, tripping down the front steps and scraping her bare knee on the pavement. It didn't faze her. The alcohol was swimming inside her again and she couldn't feel anything. All she could think about was Berry.
She almost hit the tree in the Berry's front yard as she tried to pull into the driveway, but missed and ended up parking mostly on the lawn. Quinn's mind had completely clouded in alcohol as she stumbled from the driver's seat, pausing to finish the last few drops of her vodka and tossing it back on the passenger seat. For a moment she couldn't remember where she was or what she was doing there. She looked up at the house in front of her and the name softly left her lips, "Rachel."
Staggering up the front steps, she banged loudly on the door with her fist. When a millisecond had passed and she hadn't heard anything, she banged as hard as she could and started screaming out Rachel's name, into the quiet night air, with no care for the surrounding neighbours or how insane it could possibly look. She was drunk and she knew what she wanted. There were no other coherent thoughts in her mind.
Suddenly the door was flung open and Quinn fell forward, grabbing onto the door frame for support so that she wouldn't completely fall over into the house.
"My god, girl, what is wrong with you," asked a balding man, wearing a maroon coloured robe. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"
Quinn blinked and tried to focus her eyes on him. She figured he was Rachel's Jewish father because she was almost certain he wasn't black, but even she knew not to trust her judgement in her state. She shook her head honestly, at the question. She really didn't have any idea what time it was, that had not been something she had taken in to consideration when she had set out on her quest to the Berry house.
"I need Rachel," she slurred, and thrust out a hand against him, trying to push past him and into the house.
"I don't think so," the man said sternly, blocking her way and firmly holding her back from entering, "It is 3 AM, you can come back at a normal time when you are not intoxicated."
"Rachel," Quinn screamed into the house. The house was too dark to see anything passed the front door, but she knew Rachel had to be in there somewhere. Rachel had to be able to hear her. "Rachel! Rachel!"
"Dad, it's ok," she heard Rachel say softly from somewhere in the darkness and Quinn let out a sigh of relief.
"Ok," her father repeated the word as a question, "No honey, this is far from ok. Have you seen our lawn? She is parked on our lawn."
"I'm sorry, Daddy," Rachel said, walking into view and laying a hand down on her father's arm, the arm that was still blocking Quinn from entering. "She's a... She's... Just go back to bed, I will take care of this."
Rachel's father stared at her for a few moments, as if he was weighing the pros and cons and then finally shook his head, turned around and began to walk off into the darkness, "Don't let that girl get back into that car. I don't want her killing someone. And you're going to be the one to explain to your father why his lawn looks like a monster truck mud pit."
"I know, Dad," Rachel answered, her eyes watching him until he had completely disappeared from view. Rachel pulled at the edges of her bright pink robe, tugging it tighter against herself, but kept her head facing into the darkness.
"Rachel I-," Quinn started, but Rachel's head quickly snapped back towards her and the sudden movement made her jaw lock tightly.
"What the hell are you doing here, Quinn," Rachel spat out the words, but her eyes softened as they travelled down Quinn's body and saw her scraped and bleeding knee.
Quinn looked down at her knee and saw that it was a lot worse than she had thought. She could see the bits of gravel still stuck inside it and it was bleeding pretty good. She still didn't feel it, though. She didn't feel anything except how lovely the alcohol was coursing through her veins.
"I-." Quinn tried again, but Rachel cut her off.
"You can speak to me while we clean up your knee," Rachel sighed, motioning for Quinn to come into her house and as the blond passed by she noted in dismay, "You smell like a brewery."
"Sorry," Quinn mumbled, but was instantly distracted by Rachel's hand in hers as she led her through the dark house and into Rachel's room.
"Sit," Rachel instructed, pointing towards her bed, "I'll go get a cloth and some bandages."
Quinn did as she was told, suddenly realizing how embarrassed she was going to be when she was sober. She applauded herself at the great first impression she had made on one of Rachel's dads. She just hoped she would have better luck with the other one, if Rachel didn't hate her after all that happened tonight of course. Not that she cared if Rachel hated her.
Rachel came back into the room a couple minutes later with a bowl of warm water, a cloth and some bandages. She set the items down on the floor and shrugged off her robe, placing it onto a chair, and revealing a light pink camisole and skin tight pink boy shorts. Quinn's mouth fell open at all the perfectly tanned skin that she was showing, knowing how equally perfect the skin she wasn't showing was. Rachel sat down on her knees in front of Quinn, on the floor and dipped the cloth into the bowl.
"Now, tell me what you're doing here and please tell me it is dire news because you just ruined my dad's lawn, which he prides himself on, and you made my other dad believe you are a drunken lunatic, which, judging by your recent actions, may actually be true. So please tell me something that makes all that worth it," Rachel said sternly, as she began to dab at Quinn's scrape and added softer, "Sorry if I'm hurting you."
"You're not," Quinn whispered, her voice shaking, and she realized, when she was having trouble breathing, that she was crying. Rachel noticed too and looked up at her for a moment as she tended to her injury, but let her eyes fall back on her knee.
"It was all a lie," Quinn said, watching Rachel who was touching her so tenderly, she just wanted to gather her up in her arms and lay with her, "Everything I said this morning was a lie."
Rachel was chewing nervously on her lip and not letting her eyes fall away from her task and Quinn needed her to look at her.
"Rachel," she said and paused, waiting for her to look up, but she never did, so she lifted Rachel's chin with her fingers and forced her to, "It meant something to me. Last night, it meant a lot to me. It meant everything to me."
Rachel was now biting down so hard on her lip Quinn was worried she might break the skin and she realized that the brunette had also begun to cry.
"I'm so sorry I made you feel like it was nothing and that you meant nothing to me. I'm just so confused. I thought I hated you," Quinn said shaking her head, "And now, you're all I can think about. Always. I can never get your stupid argyle sweaters or pleated skirts out of my head. Even in my damn fantasies you're wearing a sweater with llama on it!"
Quinn saw Rachel's breath catch as she spoke and she knew that all this time, Rachel had been having the same feelings towards her. It had never been about Finn for either of them, that's why it had never worked out. Feeling brave enough, Quinn continued, "But it's more than that, Rachel. It's not some silly high school crush. It's not about experimenting or a phase. When I touch you, when I had you in my arms last night, everything felt so-"
"Perfect," Rachel finished, and then dropped her eyes back to Quinn's knee when she realized she had said it out loud.
"Exactly," Quinn nodded and smiled, a real smile. "It was so perfect. I finally understand what it means to -god this is so cheesy- to make love and not just have sex."
She saw the smile form on Rachel's lips, but the brunette wouldn't lift her eyes to her, "I'm glad it was you. I'm glad that I didn't give in to Jesse or Finn and I waited for you."
"Me too," Quinn whispered, "I'm just really sorry about my actions after."
Rachel stuck the large band-aid to Quinn's knee and gave it a soft kiss, "All better."
Quinn wiped her tear stained cheeks with her hands, but froze when she saw Rachel's eyes go wide, "What's wrong?"
"You must've touched your knee and now you've got blood all over your face," Rachel said and took Quinn's hands in her own. When she looked down, she saw the blood soaked sleeve of the hoodie and zigzag patterns of blood on Quinn's hand and Quinn quickly yanked her hand back. She had forgotten about her misguided attempts to feel something and she did not like the look Rachel was giving her right now. She was completely embarrassed and ashamed.
"I just scraped it when I fell," Quinn reasoned, but the tone of her voice was telling.
Rachel held out her own hand which had fresh blood on it, showing it to Quinn as evidence, "You're still bleeding, Quinn, you have to let me take a look."
She knew Rachel wouldn't give up and sure, she could push her way out of the Berry house, but she would also be pushing herself out of Rachel's life for good. After everything she had just admitted to Rachel, after everything she had just admitted to herself, she couldn't run away.
"Please don't judge me," Quinn said, in a voice so soft and meek it didn't sound like it could be her own. She was terrified Rachel would be disgusted with her, or think she belonged locked away in a psych ward somewhere.
"I wouldn't," Rachel soothed, then pushed herself up on her knees, brought her hand to the back of Quinn's neck, and pulled her into a reassuring kiss. Rachel's lips fit so perfectly with her own and her mouth tasted so sweet that Quinn couldn't help but push her tongue past Rachel's lips to hungrily taste more of her. Forgetting about her bloody hand once again, she placed her hands on Rachel's cheeks and pulled her down on top of her, as she lay back on the bed. Rachel let out a surprised squeak and pushed herself up.
"Quinn," she sighed, her voice thick with concern, "although I do wish to continue kissing you, really I do, and you taste so strongly of alcohol I am certain I can get drunk from kissing you, I need to see your arm. Just to clean you up, I'm- I promise I won't judge you or think any less of you."
Quinn sighed and let her hands fall from Rachel's cheeks, groaning when she saw the smeared bloody hand print she made on the smaller girl's right cheek. "Ok."
Rachel looked over Quinn, now seeing all the stains on her shorts and sweatshirt, "I think you should take your clothes off."
Quinn raised an eyebrow, but Rachel quickly explained herself, "Your clothes are covered in blood, Quinn."
Quinn nodded as Rachel reached for the hem of her sweatshirt and pulled it over her head, leaving her in her white camisole, and then let out an audible gasp and she kneeled back down onto the carpet, "Quinn."
Following Rachel's frightened stare, she looked at her wrist, now being held by Rachel's delicate fingers. It did look bad, but she was sure that when all the blood was washed away, the actual injury wouldn't be as bad as it appeared. The alcohol in her blood had probably caused her to bleed more than it should and the fiction of the sweatshirt rubbing against the wound wouldn't have helped either.
"It's ok," Quinn whispered, trying to convince Rachel, "I'm ok."
Quinn grabbed the cloth Rachel had left in the bowl and gently wiped the hand print off her face. Rachel's concerned eyes turned up at her questioningly and she answered the silent question, "I got blood on you. Sorry."
Rachel didn't seem to react and Quinn continued to wipe the blood from her own hand and wrist. Once she had cleaned it off, only two thin red lines were visible. "See not as bad as it looks."
She held the cloth to her wrist, making sure the bleeding had stopped, as Rachel tore open a large bandage and held it ready.
"Do you want to die," Rachel questioned, softly, her eyes focusing on the carpet.
"No," Quinn shook her head firmly, "I just needed to feel- something."
Rachel pressed the bandage to her wrist and bit her lip, "I don't understand."
"I just feel so numb all the time," Quinn sighed, slipping off her stained shorts and was sure she caught a lusty look in Rachel's eyes when she revealed her black thong, but Rachel quickly flashed back to concern.
"Maybe it's the alcohol that's making you numb," Rachel suggested.
"No," Quinn rolled her eyes. It wasn't the alcohol. She was sure the alcohol made things better. "I've been numb longer than I've been drinking."
Rachel took a deep breath and laid her palms flat on Quinn's bare knees, slowly running them up the tops of her thighs, "Do you feel me?"
"Yes," Quinn breathed, her eyes closing with a smile flickering at the corners of her mouth.
"I want to make you feel good," Rachel said, lightly kissing the insides of her knees. Quinn opened her eyes, staring down at her as the girl lightly kissed and sucked her way up the insides of her thighs. She could feel herself getting wet and her head was spinning, from the alcohol and arousal. "Lie back."
Quinn did as she was told, teetering drunkenly as she crawled to the head of the bed and falling back on the pillows. Rachel followed after her, straddling her hips and leaning down to capture her lips in a gentle kiss. Rachel was the one to deepen the kiss this time and Quinn welcomed the initiative she was taking when she felt her hand roaming over her body. Her surprised moan was muffled by Rachel's lips as the dark haired girl rolled her hips against hers. The movement made Quinn roughly grab onto Rachel's hips, digging her fingers into her flesh, bruising her, and Rachel broke away from the kiss, moaning.
"You like it when I'm rough with you," Quinn noted, trying to steady her breathing.
Rachel blushed and chewed on her cheek nervously, "I-I just like the feel of you making me yours. If that makes sense."
Quinn bit her lip, stifling a moan caused only by the words Rachel had spoke. She resisted the urge to flip them over and spend the entire night marking, bruising and making Rachel hers. She would save that for another night.
"It makes sense," Quinn breathed the words and Rachel leaned back down, this time biting Quinn's neck roughly and sucking on her tender skin. Quinn moaned at the sensation, bucking her hips up against her and Rachel laughed against her neck, "I guess we both like it rough."
Quinn could only respond with another moan as Rachel's hand had found its way under her camisole and was pinching a nipple as her lips continued to torture her neck. Suddenly, the lips and the hand disappeared as Rachel sat back and Quinn let out an embarrassing groan at the loss. Rachel smirked and swiftly pulled her camisole over her head, then did the same to Quinn's, replacing the fingers on her breast with her hot mouth. Quinn gasped as Rachel lightly bit the sensitive flesh and tangled her fingers in Rachel's long hair. Her able fingers found Quinn's other nipple and she rolled and pinched it as she sucked and tongued the one in her mouth.
The sensations Rachel was creating amazed Quinn, that someone who had only lost their virginity the night before could be so good at what she was doing.
"Rachel," Quinn moaned, and Rachel released Quinn's nipple with a loud popping sound to look up at her, "I need you to-."
She couldn't finish the sentence, embarrassed by her strong need, but Rachel understood and slid down Quinn, pulling the thong from her hips as she went. Rachel hesitated, looking up and down Quinn's body as if she was unsure of what to do next, but then she gently pushed Quinn's legs apart and settled herself down on her elbows in between them.
"You don't have to-," Quinn started, but let out a loud moan and fisted at the sheets as Rachel's tongue slid up the length of her slit.
"I like the way you taste," Rachel said, with a hint of surprise in her voice, "I was a bit nervous last night, but you taste like- like Quinn."
Quinn laughed lightly as her cheeks warmed, "I'm glad you approve."
"You're so wet, Quinn," she remarked, as she ran a finger along her slit and then used her thumbs to spread her open.
"Are you wet," Quinn asked, looking down at Rachel, between her legs, watching as Rachel's tongue flicked across her clit and she bit back another moan. Rachel's dark eyes locked with hers as she swiftly flicked her tongue back and forth over her clit, driving Quinn's insides wild, and then sucked on it before pulling back to respond.
"I think this is the last time I will be able to wear these shorts," Rachel admitted, swirling her tongue around Quinn's entrance and pushing her tongue into her as far as she could.
"Fuck Rachel," Quinn moaned, closing her eyes and dropping her head back as she felt Rachel's nose bump against her clit.
Rachel pushed her tongue in and out of her a few more times before dragging her tongue back up to her clit and pressed two fingers inside her. Quinn's hand flew out and grasped Rachel's hair at the back of her head as she adjusted to the feel of her fingers inside her. It was so much better with Rachel than with Puck. She couldn't explain why her fingers felt better, but when Rachel's fingers curled inside her and hit her spot, it didn't matter.
"How did you-," Quinn started to ask breathlessly, trying to figure out how Rachel knew exactly how to move her fingers, but the tongue that was working her clit and the fingers that were thrusting inside her was too much. "Oh godRach-I'mgonna-fuck-"
Her back arched and her hips bucked wildly on Rachel's mouth as the orgasm tore through her, waking all the nerve endings in her body and causing her to shake with pleasure. Once the orgasm had subsided she fell back onto the bed, sweaty and exhausted, and released her hold on Rachel's head. Suddenly, Quinn felt Rachel's tongue swipe again on her over sensitive clit and her entire body jumped.
"Stop," Quinn gasped, but then those precious fingers were slowly beginning to thrust inside her again, growing in intensity with each thrust, and she was shocked to feel another orgasm building within her. She had never had multiple orgasms, not by herself and definitely not with Puck, who she hadn't had any with. The fact that Rachel could do this to her body, to have such complete control over her, was unbelievable.
She felt Rachel's lips close around her clit as she sucked on it and then her tongue was flicking it inside her mouth and Quinn's entire body was trembling from the feeling. She opened her eyes and looked down at Rachel, surprised to find her eyes still watching her, filled with lust.
"Come for me, Quinn," she said in a low gravely voice that sent Quinn tumbling over the edge. Her hips rose off the bed as she screamed and rode out her second orgasm, grinding down onto Rachel's fingers. Once she had come down from her high, she reached down in between her legs and slowly pulled Rachel's fingers out from inside of her.
"No more," Quinn pleaded and rolled her eyes at the huge accomplished grin that spread across Rachel's face. Rachel licked both of her fingers clean and then kissed her lips lightly before pulling away and hovering above her.
"What," Quinn asked after Rachel had continued to stare down at her and make no other movements.
"I don't want you to hurt yourself," she said, softly.
"I won't," Quinn replied with a half hearted smile, "It was silly."
"Scary," Rachel corrected her, "If you had-"
"Stop, Rachel," Quinn interrupted her, placing a finger to her lips, "I'm not going to do it again."
Rachel nodded and Quinn let her finger fall, "It's alright, nothing to be ashamed of. There are many famous stars that have had to deal with depression and self-harm and have overcome-"
"Rachel," Quinn groaned, too drunk and too exhausted to listen to a Rachel Berry ramble, "Drop it."
"Sorry, I just don't know how to react," the smaller girl sighed, "I am so worried about you, Quinn."
"Just kiss me," Quinn said, brushing Rachel's long hair behind her ear, "I'm too drunk for anymore serious talk."
Rachel leaned down and captured Quinn's lip between her teeth, tugging on it as she sucked it into her mouth. She moved a leg so that she was straddling Quinn's thigh and Quinn could feel just how wet she was. Quinn pushed her back lightly so she could look down and see where Rachel's centre was against her thigh, and she could see a large wet spot on her pink shorts. Guilt suddenly filled her as she realized she was too tired and uncoordinated to take care of Rachel's needs, "I'm sorry, Rach. I don't think I have the energy to-" but the smile that spread across Rachel's lips made her pause with curiosity.
Sitting up on her knees, Rachel pushed the shorts from her hips and off her toned legs and then straddled Quinn's thighs. She took Quinn's hand, laying it palm up against Quinn's crotch and positioned it so that her index and middle fingers were sticking up. Then she moved up her legs, pressing her hands to Quinn's shoulders for support and lowered herself down, slowly impaling herself on her fingers. Quinn watched as her eyes closed tightly and that same pained look as the night before was present again as her fingers stretched and filled her tight channel. She stretched her thumb up and circled the smaller girl's clit, helping to soothe her ache and soon Rachel was moaning in response. Finally, Rachel opened her eyes and pushed Quinn's thumb away from her, replacing it with her own fingers and she slowly began to raise and lower herself onto Quinn's hand.
"I can do all the work," Rachel sighed blissfully, through half lidded eyes as her hips began to roll faster and harder, taking Quinn's fingers deeper and deeper, fucking her hand.
Quinn just lay there watching in disbelief at the most erotic thing she had ever seen. Rachel's hair stuck to her face by her sweat, her eyes, darkened by need, locked on Quinn's, her mouth opening and then closing each time she ground her hips down, and sometimes, if Quinn moved her finger inside her a certain way, a moan would slip past her lips. Her small breasts bounced as she moved and most importantly, she watched the perfect view of Rachel massaging her clit in frantic circles. It wasn't long before Quinn could feel her walls tighten around her fingers and with a sharp gasp and nails that dug painfully into Quinn's shoulder, Rachel tossed her head back and came, coating Quinn's fingers in her juices.
Rachel collapsed forward against her and shuddered when Quinn pulled her fingers out of her.
"It's a good thing my room is sound proofed," Rachel sighed against her chest.
"You don't think your dads would approve," Quinn joked, drawing light circles on her hot back, sticky with sweat.
Rachel scoffed, "Certainly not."
Quinn smiled as her eyes closed, loving the feel of Rachel's small body weighing her down. Rachel's legs were still straddling her with one of her hands resting lightly on Quinn's breast and the other trapped beneath the pillow Quinn's head was on. Rachel's soft pants were all she could hear and if Quinn had been sober, she was sure that sound alone would be enough to get her going again, but instead she found herself drifting, content and spent, to sleep.
"Quinn," Rachel spoke timidly, breaking the silence and startling Quinn.
"Mmmm," Quinn answered, brushing a hand through Rachel's damp hair to prove she was listening.
"I'm afraid to go to sleep," she whispered.
"What do you mean," Quinn asked, opening her eyes and found Rachel looking up at her from her chest.
"I'm scared that in the morning, when you're sober, you're going to change again," Rachel lifted her head and she could see the fear in her eyes and tears beginning to well, "I don't want you to fall asleep because I don't want you to realize you hate me again. I don't want you to regret this again. Being with you, Quinn, is like a dream. It's surreal and it happens so fast and then in the morning, it's like it never happened at all. I don't think I can handle you rejecting me again."
Quinn cupped Rachel's face in her hands, stroking her cheeks tenderly with her thumbs, "I never regretted it, Rachel. I meant what I said, you're all I ever think about. I hate to use the line 'it's not you it's me', but it really is me. You're perfect. I love everything about you, from your Berry nose to your little feet and everything in between. Especially the things in between. But I'm still having a hard time accepting the way I feel about you.
"It's not because you've done anything wrong, but I don't come from such an open family like you do. 'Gay' is an obscenity in my family. I had a cousin who was sent away to one of those 'cleansing' camps and my aunt told everyone he was in rehab. Do you know how crazy that is? It is more acceptable to be addicted to drugs than to be gay."
Quinn paused to breathe. She could feel the panic rising inside of her as she began to imagine her family's reaction to her being in love with another girl. Not only did she disappoint her family by becoming a teen mother, now she was going to disgrace them because of her sexual orientation.
She saw Rachel staring at her with deep concern, tears spilling down her cheeks, "I'm sorry, Quinn. I never thought about how difficult that would be for you. Obviously with having two gay dads, I come from a very open family. Sometimes I forget that not all families are as open as mine."
"I want to be with you, Rachel, I really do. But I don't think I'm ready to tell the world, yet," Quinn said, slowly, hoping Rachel would understand that it was not because she was embarrassed of her and her status at school, but because she wasn't ready to admit to the world she was gay.
Rachel nodded her understanding, "Just promise me you won't hate me in the morning."
"I could never hate you, Rachel," she smiled, kissing her lips, salty from her tears. "I promise."
"Could you promise me one more thing," Rachel asked, nervously.
"What," Quinn yawned.
"The next time we make love, do you think you could be completely sober?"
"Only if you let me do whatever I want to you."
Quinn felt Rachel shiver on top of her.
"Deal."
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