HSN Exchange Fic: Spinning on That Dizzy Edge, for telm_393
Title: Spinning On That Dizzy Edge
Rating: NC-17
Pairings/Characters: Quinn/Rachel
Warnings: Angst
Word count: 2692
Disclaimer: This Glee fanfiction is based upon the television show of the same name. All characters and situations other than my own are sole property of Ryan Murphy Productions and 20th Century Fox Television.
Summary: In this moment, with Rachel staring at her and her heart beating hard against her ribs, Quinn thinks that of all her sins, this lie is the worst.
A/N: Slight twist on the prompt, but I think it still works. I hope you like it, telm_393 !
In this moment, with Rachel staring at her and her heart beating hard against her ribs, Quinn thinks that of all her sins, this lie is the worst.
“You’re a terrible liar, Quinn,” Rachel retorts, her face an angry red.
Quinn almost laughs at that because actually, no, she’s the best liar in all of freakin’ Lima, but this lie, the one that’s putting tears in Rachel’s eyes and making her chest constrict. Well, she just doesn’t have the heart to sell it very hard.
It doesn’t matter though because she doesn’t need to; she’s walking out on her, out of Rachel’s life, no matter what the other girl has to say about it. She’s not good enough for Rachel, she’ll never be. She’s tainted and broken and Rachel has dreams. Big dreams. Dreams with lights and stars and standing ovations. Quinn’s not going to drag her down, not going to be one more piece of baggage Rachel takes with her out of Lima. It would destroy both of them eventually and it’s just one of the many reasons why she needs to walk away. If she’s going to do one selfless thing in her life, this is it.
She doesn’t try to wipe the emotion off her face, doesn’t try to stop her voice from cracking, just repeats the words and tries not to let herself hear them. “I don’t love you anymore.”
“That’s your parents talking, Quinn,” Rachel argues. “Stop saying that.”
Quinn shakes her head, shrugs like this whole thing doesn’t really matter. She tries to focus on the things that do matter - like her parents paying for college, like her one ticket out of this shithole of a town all on the condition that she chalk up Rachel up to some teenage phase, like Rachel becoming a star with her name in lights and a case full of awards.
“I don’t,” she repeats, turning to walk out of Rachel’s room. She’d never make it out of Lima on her own. She’d never be good enough for Rachel on her own. She has to do this - has to make it to the door and out of Rachel’s life. Has to become something. Something other than just another teenage delinquent from Lima, Ohio.
But the other girl springs forward, grabs Quinn’s wrist and pulls her back around.
“Stop lying,” Rachel bites out. “You’re being ridiculous.”
Warmth shoots all the way up her arm from Rachel’s palm but she stamps it down before it can reach her heart. “I’m not gay, Berry,” she snaps. “And I’m not in love with you.”
“Shut up,” Rachel snaps, her voice angrier that Quinn’s ever heard it. “Shutupshutupshutup.”
They’re close together, Rachel’s hand still wrapped around her wrist and Quinn only has to reach forward a few inches and they’d be kissing. It feels like fire between them, crackling and spitting, threatening to explode and inflame all those around them.
Their relationship was always like this, full of hot tempers and bitchiness (on Quinn’s part mostly) but there was always something simmering right under the surface - attraction, respect, love. It had turned what used to be angry contemptuous fights into something more like hot, speedy foreplay. Right now, their chests heaving and their eyes locked it’s a little of both.
“Let me go, Berry,” Quinn commands darkly.
“Stop calling me that,” Rachel demands, tugging down on Quinn’s wrist and stepping closer.
Quinn blinks and exhales through her nose. “I’m leaving, Rachel,” she explains, her heart breaking but her face a perfect, angry calm. “You can’t stop me.”
The words break across Rachel’s face, anger, dejection, desperation and Quinn has to fight the tug on her heart, the one that pulls her straight towards Rachel.
Then, quick like lightning, Rachel attacks; pushes her against the door, hard. The door knob digs into her back and punches pain up her spine, but the feeling of Rachel’s chest pressed up against hers and their lips tangled together sends a warmth right back down it.
Rachel kisses her hot and messy. It’s harsh and laced with pain and it takes a second for Quinn to start fighting back, to pull Rachel’s bottom lip with her teeth and bite down just a little harder than necessary. It should say something that her first instinct isn’t to push Rachel away but to pull her closer. She’s sure Rachel realizes it right away but Quinn isn’t fazed. She’s knows her words are lies just as much as Rachel does.
And despite all that, they both also know Quinn’s still going to walk away. That knowledge, the certainty of it sits heavily between them and makes Rachel’s fingers yank down on her hair and Quinn’s hands dig hard into Rachel’s hip bones.
Anger and arousal and fear swirl together until Quinn’s having trouble figuring out the difference. She’s pretty sure it’s arousal, however, that makes her push back into Rachel, walking them across the room until the other girl’s knees hit the edge of the bed.
There’s defiance and determination in Rachel’s kiss and it bleeds right into Quinn. She shouldn’t be doing this, she shouldn't be kissing Rachel, certainly shouldn’t be thinking about throwing her on the bed until they’re both naked and breathless.
She can still hear her father’s words in her head, her mother’s right there next to them, about how wrong this all is, about how disgusting she’s become. It’s distracting and for a moment Quinn can feel herself swaying, the hands on Rachel’s hips squeezing minutely as tears prick her eyes.
The other girl must sense it because she grips Quinn’s face steadily and anger seems to whoosh right out her. The hands are comforting and steadying and Quinn feels it pump strength into her weak knees.
She gulps and stares at Rachel, the pain she’s sure is evident on her own face reflected in brown eyes.
“Quinn,” Rachel whispers. It’s soft, sounding less like a name and more like a promise and Quinn hates it. It spikes anger right back into her because she doesn’t want to feel any of this. She doesn’t want to feel compassion from Rachel or the shameful memories of her parents. She just wants to block it all out.
Shock registers on Rachel’s face when Quinn pushes her away and steps back. She can’t do this. She can’t do this. She can’t do this. She needs to leave. Now.
But just two steps back towards the door, Rachel rushes towards her and Quinn’s back connects with wood again.
“You can’t do this,” Rachel seethes, the words hot into Quinn’s neck. “You can’t just leave me like this.”
Quinn doesn’t need to say yes I can - she’s already said it as many ways as she can think of and it’d be pretty hard with Rachel’s lips back on hers, her teeth biting down and tongue demanding entrance.
It pulls the breath right out of Quinn again and her knees buckle when Rachel’s hand slides down her body and finds purchase between her legs. Rachel kisses a path back down Quinn’s neck and her head falls forward against Rachel’s, her breath panting out of her and into brown hair.
“Rach,” she breathes, the words breaking as Rachel’s fingers trail up to pull open Quinn’s pants.
“Shut up,” Rachel snaps and Quinn hates the way the words sound coming out of Rachel’s mouth.
“Rach,” she tries again but Rachel’s head snaps up and Quinn’s snaps back against the door, pain shooting through the back of her head as her words get lost in her throat. Rachel’s lips are on hers again and a small hand is snaking down Quinn’s pants until fingers are sliding through wet heat, finding damning evidence that reveals all of Quinn’s lies.
Arousal floods all over her skin as Rachel’s fingers pinch her clit hard and the nails of her other hand tangle in Quinn’s hair again, pulling back so her neck is arched. Rachel breaks their kiss to scrape back down it.
“I won’t let you forget this,” Rachel whispers, her breath ghosting over the red bite marks now littering Quinn’s neck. “I won’t let you ever forget it.”
The hand down her pants pulls away and Quinn’s hips buck forward, chasing them, before Rachel’s hands grab the waistband of Quinn’s jeans and rip them down her legs, her underwear dropping down with them until they’re around Quinn’s ankles.
“No one will ever be as good as me,” Rachel promises, falling down to her knees in front of Quinn. “No one will ever be able to do this to you.”
Against her will, her hands grip into Rachel’s hair, her fingers tangling in soft, brown strands and hundreds of memories flit across Quinn’s consciousness. Memories of how Rachel’s hair looks in a multitude of situations - in the morning sun, in the moonlight, under the harsh lights of school, soaked from a late afternoon shower, or tangled and messy after a long make out session on Rachel’s living room couch.
The truth of Rachel’s words is like a punch to her gut and she has to close her eyes for a second to focus on the feel of Rachel’s hands around her ankle as they pull Quinn’s leg out of her pants. The tears are right there, threatening to fall and she struggles to cling to this feeling, to the way Rachel brings her leg up to hang over her shoulder and the soft, warm breath against her inner thigh.
She pushes away any other thoughts. She buries the voices of her parents preaching about sin and depravity and stifles her own voice in her head screaming at her to walk away, to stop making this harder than it has to be. She quiets everything but the sound of her heartbeat in her ears and the sounds Rachel makes as she drags her tongue through wet folds to flick against her clit, the fast, consistent rhythm making Quinn’s legs shake.
It feels amazing. It always feels amazing. Rachel is nothing if not a perfectionist and she knows how to play Quinn’s body like a pro. She knows just how much pressure to apply and when, knows when to tease and when not to, knows just how much pain Quinn likes laced with pleasure and knows exactly when Quinn’s about to come.
Her orgasm beats against the base of her spine, building in a slow swirl as Rachel sucks hard and her fingers trace her entrance. The tip of Rachel’s tongue begins tracing shapes over her clit and Quinn knows exactly what they are, can feel the familiar letters of Rachel’s name as if they’re branded there.
Breathing gets harder to accomplish when Rachel pushes two fingers inside her, fast and hard and a twinge of pain is chased away by hot spikes of pleasure as Rachel pumps in and out, switching the rhythm of her tongue to match.
Quinn’s fingers grasp in Rachel’s hair, pulling her closer and canting her hips in time with Rachel’s fingers, coiling heat spreading out over her body as she feels her orgasm crawl towards her.
The roaring sound of her heartbeat nearly drowns out everything else but just as Rachel’s fingers curl and twist and she comes with a sharp punch, she can almost hear the whispered I love you that Rachel breathes into sensitive flesh.
Her thighs are shaking and she can barely stand, but Rachel manages to pull her pants back around her legs and tug them upward until Rachel’s standing in front of her again, buttoning the front of her jeans closed.
Quinn’s vision is a little hazy from tears and arousal, but she lets her eyes take in the vision of Rachel’s face, her fingers softly untangling from brown hair. She runs a thumb over Rachel’s cheekbones, catching fallen tears as her back sags further into the door and Rachel’s hips press into hers.
She wants to say I’m sorry or I love you so much but the truth won’t come out and not for the first time in her life Quinn feels wholly and completely inadequate. The anger is mostly gone, but depression lingers and threatens to take over and she bites the inside of her cheek to keep from sobbing.
She has to keep it together, has to get out of here. If she starts crying, if she gives into the desire to touch Rachel, to pull a scream out of those lips and return the favor, she’ll never leave. A big, scary, stupid part of her is totally okay with that.
But her head grabs a hold of her heart and she forces determination and resolve back into her bones. “I’m leaving,” she says, her hand still on Rachel’s cheek. “I have to leave.”
“I would have fought for us,” Rachel says quickly, her voice soft and full of tears. “I would never have stopped.”
It hurts. Deep, cutting pain that Quinn doesn’t think will ever heal.
“I know,” she replies, her throat closing. She runs a hand up through the hair at the back of Rachel’s head, pulls her in close for a moment because she doesn’t know when it will happen again or if it will ever happen again. She wants to cling to it for an eternity and knowing she can’t twists the knife in her heart.
“I think I’ll probably always love you.” It’s quiet, muffled by Quinn’s collarbone and if her heart hadn’t already broken, that would have done her in. She needs to leave, needs to leave now before she’s stuck here unraveling the lies and the pain and letting Rachel wash it away.
“In another lifetime,” Quinn whispers, broken and soft into Rachel’s hair. “I could have loved you forever.”
They break apart and Quinn reaches behind her to open the door, not focusing on anything aside from putting one foot in front of the other until she’s out into the hallway and racing for the front door. The choked sobbing she hears from inside the bedroom etches itself on her heart and she nearly stumbles as it resounds in her ears.
It takes everything she has, absolutely everything, to keep walking away, but she does. She reminds herself of all her reasons, of her parents, of her chance to leave Lima, and of how much better Rachel will be without her. The last reason makes her legs steady and her breathing even out and she manages to make it out of the house without falling over. She gets all the way to her car and halfway around the block before she completely breaks down. It’s hours before she’s composed enough to return home.
--
Years later, when she watches Rachel Berry make a long, rambling, overly-excited acceptance speech for her first Tony win, Quinn can’t do anything but smile before she grabs the remote and clicks the TV off.
-
ABOUT THE FIC THAT YOU ARE REQUESTING
Character(s) or pairing(s): Santana/Brittany, Rachel/Quinn
Do you prefer R or NC-17 smut?: R
Prompts (minimum of 3, no maximum!):
1. BDSM (spanking especially): Rachel is one sexy dominatrix, and Quinn is her slave.
2. Santana/Brittany: angsty fic--secret!sex: They both have boyfriends (think 'beards'), but have frequent sleepovers to get what they really need.
3. Rachel/Quinn: angsty, angsty angst: Desperate!Break up!sex--Quinn can't stand to be gay, Rachel can't let her go, and thus gives her very steamy and pleasurable sex. In the end, though, Quinn leaves anyway.
Rating: NC-17
Pairings/Characters: Quinn/Rachel
Warnings: Angst
Word count: 2692
Disclaimer: This Glee fanfiction is based upon the television show of the same name. All characters and situations other than my own are sole property of Ryan Murphy Productions and 20th Century Fox Television.
Summary: In this moment, with Rachel staring at her and her heart beating hard against her ribs, Quinn thinks that of all her sins, this lie is the worst.
A/N: Slight twist on the prompt, but I think it still works. I hope you like it, telm_393 !
In this moment, with Rachel staring at her and her heart beating hard against her ribs, Quinn thinks that of all her sins, this lie is the worst.
“You’re a terrible liar, Quinn,” Rachel retorts, her face an angry red.
Quinn almost laughs at that because actually, no, she’s the best liar in all of freakin’ Lima, but this lie, the one that’s putting tears in Rachel’s eyes and making her chest constrict. Well, she just doesn’t have the heart to sell it very hard.
It doesn’t matter though because she doesn’t need to; she’s walking out on her, out of Rachel’s life, no matter what the other girl has to say about it. She’s not good enough for Rachel, she’ll never be. She’s tainted and broken and Rachel has dreams. Big dreams. Dreams with lights and stars and standing ovations. Quinn’s not going to drag her down, not going to be one more piece of baggage Rachel takes with her out of Lima. It would destroy both of them eventually and it’s just one of the many reasons why she needs to walk away. If she’s going to do one selfless thing in her life, this is it.
She doesn’t try to wipe the emotion off her face, doesn’t try to stop her voice from cracking, just repeats the words and tries not to let herself hear them. “I don’t love you anymore.”
“That’s your parents talking, Quinn,” Rachel argues. “Stop saying that.”
Quinn shakes her head, shrugs like this whole thing doesn’t really matter. She tries to focus on the things that do matter - like her parents paying for college, like her one ticket out of this shithole of a town all on the condition that she chalk up Rachel up to some teenage phase, like Rachel becoming a star with her name in lights and a case full of awards.
“I don’t,” she repeats, turning to walk out of Rachel’s room. She’d never make it out of Lima on her own. She’d never be good enough for Rachel on her own. She has to do this - has to make it to the door and out of Rachel’s life. Has to become something. Something other than just another teenage delinquent from Lima, Ohio.
But the other girl springs forward, grabs Quinn’s wrist and pulls her back around.
“Stop lying,” Rachel bites out. “You’re being ridiculous.”
Warmth shoots all the way up her arm from Rachel’s palm but she stamps it down before it can reach her heart. “I’m not gay, Berry,” she snaps. “And I’m not in love with you.”
“Shut up,” Rachel snaps, her voice angrier that Quinn’s ever heard it. “Shutupshutupshutup.”
They’re close together, Rachel’s hand still wrapped around her wrist and Quinn only has to reach forward a few inches and they’d be kissing. It feels like fire between them, crackling and spitting, threatening to explode and inflame all those around them.
Their relationship was always like this, full of hot tempers and bitchiness (on Quinn’s part mostly) but there was always something simmering right under the surface - attraction, respect, love. It had turned what used to be angry contemptuous fights into something more like hot, speedy foreplay. Right now, their chests heaving and their eyes locked it’s a little of both.
“Let me go, Berry,” Quinn commands darkly.
“Stop calling me that,” Rachel demands, tugging down on Quinn’s wrist and stepping closer.
Quinn blinks and exhales through her nose. “I’m leaving, Rachel,” she explains, her heart breaking but her face a perfect, angry calm. “You can’t stop me.”
The words break across Rachel’s face, anger, dejection, desperation and Quinn has to fight the tug on her heart, the one that pulls her straight towards Rachel.
Then, quick like lightning, Rachel attacks; pushes her against the door, hard. The door knob digs into her back and punches pain up her spine, but the feeling of Rachel’s chest pressed up against hers and their lips tangled together sends a warmth right back down it.
Rachel kisses her hot and messy. It’s harsh and laced with pain and it takes a second for Quinn to start fighting back, to pull Rachel’s bottom lip with her teeth and bite down just a little harder than necessary. It should say something that her first instinct isn’t to push Rachel away but to pull her closer. She’s sure Rachel realizes it right away but Quinn isn’t fazed. She’s knows her words are lies just as much as Rachel does.
And despite all that, they both also know Quinn’s still going to walk away. That knowledge, the certainty of it sits heavily between them and makes Rachel’s fingers yank down on her hair and Quinn’s hands dig hard into Rachel’s hip bones.
Anger and arousal and fear swirl together until Quinn’s having trouble figuring out the difference. She’s pretty sure it’s arousal, however, that makes her push back into Rachel, walking them across the room until the other girl’s knees hit the edge of the bed.
There’s defiance and determination in Rachel’s kiss and it bleeds right into Quinn. She shouldn’t be doing this, she shouldn't be kissing Rachel, certainly shouldn’t be thinking about throwing her on the bed until they’re both naked and breathless.
She can still hear her father’s words in her head, her mother’s right there next to them, about how wrong this all is, about how disgusting she’s become. It’s distracting and for a moment Quinn can feel herself swaying, the hands on Rachel’s hips squeezing minutely as tears prick her eyes.
The other girl must sense it because she grips Quinn’s face steadily and anger seems to whoosh right out her. The hands are comforting and steadying and Quinn feels it pump strength into her weak knees.
She gulps and stares at Rachel, the pain she’s sure is evident on her own face reflected in brown eyes.
“Quinn,” Rachel whispers. It’s soft, sounding less like a name and more like a promise and Quinn hates it. It spikes anger right back into her because she doesn’t want to feel any of this. She doesn’t want to feel compassion from Rachel or the shameful memories of her parents. She just wants to block it all out.
Shock registers on Rachel’s face when Quinn pushes her away and steps back. She can’t do this. She can’t do this. She can’t do this. She needs to leave. Now.
But just two steps back towards the door, Rachel rushes towards her and Quinn’s back connects with wood again.
“You can’t do this,” Rachel seethes, the words hot into Quinn’s neck. “You can’t just leave me like this.”
Quinn doesn’t need to say yes I can - she’s already said it as many ways as she can think of and it’d be pretty hard with Rachel’s lips back on hers, her teeth biting down and tongue demanding entrance.
It pulls the breath right out of Quinn again and her knees buckle when Rachel’s hand slides down her body and finds purchase between her legs. Rachel kisses a path back down Quinn’s neck and her head falls forward against Rachel’s, her breath panting out of her and into brown hair.
“Rach,” she breathes, the words breaking as Rachel’s fingers trail up to pull open Quinn’s pants.
“Shut up,” Rachel snaps and Quinn hates the way the words sound coming out of Rachel’s mouth.
“Rach,” she tries again but Rachel’s head snaps up and Quinn’s snaps back against the door, pain shooting through the back of her head as her words get lost in her throat. Rachel’s lips are on hers again and a small hand is snaking down Quinn’s pants until fingers are sliding through wet heat, finding damning evidence that reveals all of Quinn’s lies.
Arousal floods all over her skin as Rachel’s fingers pinch her clit hard and the nails of her other hand tangle in Quinn’s hair again, pulling back so her neck is arched. Rachel breaks their kiss to scrape back down it.
“I won’t let you forget this,” Rachel whispers, her breath ghosting over the red bite marks now littering Quinn’s neck. “I won’t let you ever forget it.”
The hand down her pants pulls away and Quinn’s hips buck forward, chasing them, before Rachel’s hands grab the waistband of Quinn’s jeans and rip them down her legs, her underwear dropping down with them until they’re around Quinn’s ankles.
“No one will ever be as good as me,” Rachel promises, falling down to her knees in front of Quinn. “No one will ever be able to do this to you.”
Against her will, her hands grip into Rachel’s hair, her fingers tangling in soft, brown strands and hundreds of memories flit across Quinn’s consciousness. Memories of how Rachel’s hair looks in a multitude of situations - in the morning sun, in the moonlight, under the harsh lights of school, soaked from a late afternoon shower, or tangled and messy after a long make out session on Rachel’s living room couch.
The truth of Rachel’s words is like a punch to her gut and she has to close her eyes for a second to focus on the feel of Rachel’s hands around her ankle as they pull Quinn’s leg out of her pants. The tears are right there, threatening to fall and she struggles to cling to this feeling, to the way Rachel brings her leg up to hang over her shoulder and the soft, warm breath against her inner thigh.
She pushes away any other thoughts. She buries the voices of her parents preaching about sin and depravity and stifles her own voice in her head screaming at her to walk away, to stop making this harder than it has to be. She quiets everything but the sound of her heartbeat in her ears and the sounds Rachel makes as she drags her tongue through wet folds to flick against her clit, the fast, consistent rhythm making Quinn’s legs shake.
It feels amazing. It always feels amazing. Rachel is nothing if not a perfectionist and she knows how to play Quinn’s body like a pro. She knows just how much pressure to apply and when, knows when to tease and when not to, knows just how much pain Quinn likes laced with pleasure and knows exactly when Quinn’s about to come.
Her orgasm beats against the base of her spine, building in a slow swirl as Rachel sucks hard and her fingers trace her entrance. The tip of Rachel’s tongue begins tracing shapes over her clit and Quinn knows exactly what they are, can feel the familiar letters of Rachel’s name as if they’re branded there.
Breathing gets harder to accomplish when Rachel pushes two fingers inside her, fast and hard and a twinge of pain is chased away by hot spikes of pleasure as Rachel pumps in and out, switching the rhythm of her tongue to match.
Quinn’s fingers grasp in Rachel’s hair, pulling her closer and canting her hips in time with Rachel’s fingers, coiling heat spreading out over her body as she feels her orgasm crawl towards her.
The roaring sound of her heartbeat nearly drowns out everything else but just as Rachel’s fingers curl and twist and she comes with a sharp punch, she can almost hear the whispered I love you that Rachel breathes into sensitive flesh.
Her thighs are shaking and she can barely stand, but Rachel manages to pull her pants back around her legs and tug them upward until Rachel’s standing in front of her again, buttoning the front of her jeans closed.
Quinn’s vision is a little hazy from tears and arousal, but she lets her eyes take in the vision of Rachel’s face, her fingers softly untangling from brown hair. She runs a thumb over Rachel’s cheekbones, catching fallen tears as her back sags further into the door and Rachel’s hips press into hers.
She wants to say I’m sorry or I love you so much but the truth won’t come out and not for the first time in her life Quinn feels wholly and completely inadequate. The anger is mostly gone, but depression lingers and threatens to take over and she bites the inside of her cheek to keep from sobbing.
She has to keep it together, has to get out of here. If she starts crying, if she gives into the desire to touch Rachel, to pull a scream out of those lips and return the favor, she’ll never leave. A big, scary, stupid part of her is totally okay with that.
But her head grabs a hold of her heart and she forces determination and resolve back into her bones. “I’m leaving,” she says, her hand still on Rachel’s cheek. “I have to leave.”
“I would have fought for us,” Rachel says quickly, her voice soft and full of tears. “I would never have stopped.”
It hurts. Deep, cutting pain that Quinn doesn’t think will ever heal.
“I know,” she replies, her throat closing. She runs a hand up through the hair at the back of Rachel’s head, pulls her in close for a moment because she doesn’t know when it will happen again or if it will ever happen again. She wants to cling to it for an eternity and knowing she can’t twists the knife in her heart.
“I think I’ll probably always love you.” It’s quiet, muffled by Quinn’s collarbone and if her heart hadn’t already broken, that would have done her in. She needs to leave, needs to leave now before she’s stuck here unraveling the lies and the pain and letting Rachel wash it away.
“In another lifetime,” Quinn whispers, broken and soft into Rachel’s hair. “I could have loved you forever.”
They break apart and Quinn reaches behind her to open the door, not focusing on anything aside from putting one foot in front of the other until she’s out into the hallway and racing for the front door. The choked sobbing she hears from inside the bedroom etches itself on her heart and she nearly stumbles as it resounds in her ears.
It takes everything she has, absolutely everything, to keep walking away, but she does. She reminds herself of all her reasons, of her parents, of her chance to leave Lima, and of how much better Rachel will be without her. The last reason makes her legs steady and her breathing even out and she manages to make it out of the house without falling over. She gets all the way to her car and halfway around the block before she completely breaks down. It’s hours before she’s composed enough to return home.
--
Years later, when she watches Rachel Berry make a long, rambling, overly-excited acceptance speech for her first Tony win, Quinn can’t do anything but smile before she grabs the remote and clicks the TV off.
-
ABOUT THE FIC THAT YOU ARE REQUESTING
Character(s) or pairing(s): Santana/Brittany, Rachel/Quinn
Do you prefer R or NC-17 smut?: R
Prompts (minimum of 3, no maximum!):
1. BDSM (spanking especially): Rachel is one sexy dominatrix, and Quinn is her slave.
2. Santana/Brittany: angsty fic--secret!sex: They both have boyfriends (think 'beards'), but have frequent sleepovers to get what they really need.
3. Rachel/Quinn: angsty, angsty angst: Desperate!Break up!sex--Quinn can't stand to be gay, Rachel can't let her go, and thus gives her very steamy and pleasurable sex. In the end, though, Quinn leaves anyway.