Okay, so maybe Rachel is being a little overbearing but she can’t remember a time her friend Jeff was so down on himself. She also can’t remember a time he’d mess up on anything dance wise, not that mistakes don’t happen, but it worries her. So she does what any friend would do (any mother would do really) and when she makes it back from her rehearsal, she drops her bag off in her dorm room before making her way to Jeff’s. It’s also Nick’s room and her mind can’t even go there right now with the amount of worry clouding her mind.
She knocks on the door softly before jiggling the handle. “Are you decent?”
WHO: Benji Karofsky (@benjikarofsky), Franco Del Rio (@southsidefranco), and Topher Pierce (@topherxpierce).
WHERE: Benji’s apartment
WHEN: 3rd June 2019
NOTES: Realizing how much their love needs them, Franco and Topher put aside their difference to comfort Benji in his time of need.
TRIGGERS: Minor character death, polygamous themes
BOLD: Benji
ITALIC: Franco
NORMAL: Topher
WORD COUNT: 1901
Benji was trying to make himself breakfast, but the attempt didn't make it that far. All he had managed to do was turn on the eye of the stove before his emotions got the better of him and he started to sob and collapse, landing on the tile below him.
He had never been one to "break" or get too emotional, but that was at least partially due to the fantasy that if he stayed good like his mother told him to, she would eventually come find him and save him from this mess. Now that he knew the truth, that she was dead all these years--and killed by Burt no less--he felt like an empty shell. And the fact that he couldn't find Topher and Franco had left him only made the situation worse.
He tried to get up, but a distraught Cortana had already started to attack him with doggy kisses, sensing her owner's sadness. "Cort..." Benji whispered, letting the pitbull crawl into his lap, "what if neither of them ever come home? I... I don't think I can handle another heartbreak..."
Franco had finally decided to go back to Benji's. He'd taken time to think, taken time to let himself be a little adult about it and managed to score some gear, which was currently hidden in his pocket. When he entered the house he noticed it was quiet but he could see a light on in the kitchen and smiled, walking to the door but when he saw Benji on the floor. He rushed over and knelt next to him, "It's OK" he breathed, "I'm here".
"Fr-Franc..." Benji sobbed, throwing his arms around him as he started to cry even harder. "I-I'm so, so sorry. I should've known you wouldn't break your sobriety just because we fought. I should've had more faith in you," he babbled, his head in Franco's shoulder. "I... I can't breathe. What am I gonna do without her, Franc? I've spent my whole life waiting for her and she's... she's..." he felt his breathing get shallow, unable to catch his breath.
Franco wrapped his arms around Benji and kissed the side of his head, "Hey now, no need to focus on that is there" he said, baffled by the emotions, "Waiting for who babe? What's happened? You need to breathe... What's it Toph says 5 in, hold for 7, out for 10 or something".
Benji sniffled wildly, Franco's attempt at trying to give the right instructions managing to calm him a little. They were obviously completely off, but that didn't matter. At least Franco was trying. "My... m-my mom," Benji eventually sobbed out, trying to do the correcting breathing exercise in between his words, "i-it was all over the news last night... pl-please don't make me say it again..."
Franco didn't understand, he'd seen something online but wasn't sure what it was cause he couldn't read it. He held Benji as he sobbed and said, "Babe, I'm so sorry but I couldn't read it. I didn't know what it said"
Benji sniffled and bit his lip. He didn't want to say it--the more he said it, the more real it became--but he also needed Franco to know why he was this distraught; he couldn't just leave his boyfriend in the dark. "My... m-mom's dead," he whispered, suddenly feeling nauseous.
"Burt killed her. 17 years ago." He started to cry again, silently this time, and kept his arms tightly around Franco. "...S-She and Paul used to fight a lot and she would a-always leave me a bag and say she was never coming back, but she always did. Then one day she didn't and Paul thought she had finally really had enough, but... but she didn't come back because she..." he took a sharp breath, trying to hold back more tears, "they found her... remains... buried and wrapped in a rug while they were trying to make some new housing development. I... I didn't even know any of this until the article came out... I didn't even know her name before yesterday..."
Franco's eye widened in shock and held Benji harder, "I don't know what to say Benji" he breathed out, "But at least you know now and you can like mourn and try and move on when your ready" he said, biting his lip.
Benji shook his head, "There is no 'moving on', Franc. S-She... knowing she was gonna come back for me one day... th-that's all I had. Th-That's all that got me through school, and living with P-Paul, and... everything bad that's happened. And now she can't. And she--" he swallowed, "And she never was..."
Franco nodded, "I know it feels that way now babe but you will accept it and move on. It'll be hard, it'll suck but it'll get better. You have me and Topher and whatever this relationship we gunna do is called. Both of us love you".
Benji sniffled hard, still holding Franco tightly. "M-My chest hurts..." he whispered, only to be caught off guard when he finally processed what Franco said. "...W-What?" he asked, pulling back to meet Franco's eyes as he tried to ignore the hitch in his voice.
Franco sighed, "Come on babe, just breathe for me... In for 5, hold for 7 and out for 10 remember" he said, convinced he was right about that. He nodded, "I said I'll try right? Make this work and if Topher helps this work... Then that's what I'll do but, you gotta introduce it slowly. No rushing and he's gotta say sorry for punching me".
"I-I don't remember the number right now, but I know 10's way too much, Franc. I'd hyperventilate," Benji whispered, his voice losing the smallest bit of his sadness; he still felt like he'd never smile again, but only someone with a heart of stone wouldn't react at least a bit to Franco's attempt at trying to calm him down. It was so undeniably off, but he was so determined. "...Okay," Benji whispered. "I'll... I'll make sure he apologizes."
Franco nodded, "Ok maybe like in for 4, hold for 6 and out for like 5? I don't know babe, I'm sorry" he muttered, feeling a little flustered. He nodded, "It's gotta be slow... But we all gotta pull together to help you and I think I can do that" he said. He was feeling guilty knowing he had drugs on him right now but he tried to not even think about it.
Topher had done his best to hurry home without breaking any laws or earning himself any injuries in the process, yet that had done nothing for his aching heart and guilty mind. Still, Benji was much more important right now, so he did his best to make a break for the apartment. "Coming in and through," the former Serpent called once he reached the front door.
Benji was too wrapped up in Franco to notice Topher come in, but Cortana leaping from her placement sandwiched between him and Franco to bark and attack Topher with doggy kisses definitely drew his attention. He still had his arms around Franco, but pulled back enough from his fiancé to see him, a few extra tears making their way down his face. "...You came home," he whispered, looking to Topher, then to Franco, "N-Neither of you left me. You both came home."
Franco felt Benji move back a little and he tensed. He was worried about what this new thing would mean and he wasn't exactly best buddies with Topher right now, "I would never babe" he breathed, "I love you.... we love you" he forced out.
"Hey Cortana, my little sweetheart," Topher greeted as he knelt down in order to pet her then gave a peace sign in lieu of a verbal greeting. He finally took an actual seat on the floor when his right leg started to ache and his gaze flicked up to Benji and Franco.
All the adrenaline flooded out of him once again, yet the 18 year old remained sitting as he inquired in a quiet tone, "Now why in the whole fucking wide world would I leave? Don't actually answer that, okay? Save your energy."
Benji kissed Franco's neck and turned in his embrace so that his back was against his fiancé's arm before wrapping his arms around Franco's torso. "You're never allowed to leave me again. Either of you," he said, his tone growing stronger, but obviously still a bit hysterical.
He sniffled and wiped his face, convinced that he was finally out of tears to cry. "It's just so hard to accept... I never even had a chance to meet her, y'know? That article... that stupid picture of her and Paul that they dug up from somewhere... that was the first time I'd ever seen her."
Franco sighed and held Benji, like the man had done to him many times before. He nodded, "It's gunna be hard but we are going to get you through it" and it a moment of weakness, he motioned Topher to come over to them, "Come sit with us huh?" he said, "Think Benji needs us both right now". His tone had changed for sure and he was sure he was gritting his teeth but he knew he needed to step up.
Topher grabbed his cane and pushed himself up just enough so he could make the few steps that brought him closer to the duo. Of course, his gaze never faltered for a moment, but whether it was stubbornness and a display that he'd never run or out of a desire to comfort didn't clear up underneath the kitchen lights. "Your wishes are my commands and that's right. We've got your back, Ben."
Ben hugged Franco closer but took one arm off hi fiancé's torso, wanting to hold Topher's hand. He started to close the gap, but stopped short. "....You need to apologize to Franco for punching him. Really apologize," he said to Topher, biting his lip as he waited for a response. "And promise to never do it again."
Franco shook his head, "Apologies can wait" he breathed out, kissing Benji's head before making eye contact with Topher, "Take his hand and be with us before I change my mind" he warned.
If those few words didn't send a bolt of mixed emotions straight for Topher's heart, he had no idea what would. The look on his face remained full of steely determination as he took Benji's offered hand.
But in those few moments, all the would-be coolness melted away and instead he replied, "I've run out of things to say in an attempt to make things better, but please give me some time and I'll sweep you both off your feet in terms of apologies. What matters most is the here and now."
Benji took Topher's hand in his and started to tear up again, this time for a different reason. He never imagined the two people he loved would be willing to resolve their differences for him; of course, this was just one instance in the beginning of many and there was no way the path would be uneventful, but if there was ever a moment to start, it would be right now when he needed all the love he could get.
"...I love you, Franc. ....I love you, Toph," he whispered, finally giving a small smile.
WHAT: Quinn and Rachel’s perfect day turns into a perfect night.
RACHEL: It really has been a perfect day. There’s a smile on Rachel’s lips that just won’t fade, especially when every glance at Quinn reveals a similar smile. She loves seeing her girlfriend like this—totally relaxed and happy.
They’d spent the better part of the day on the beach, soaking up the sun and playing in the surf, and Rachel had discovered that her girlfriend is a very graceful swimmer, but that really doesn’t surprise her. Everything Quinn does is graceful—like gliding out of the ocean with water rivulets dripping down over her skin and her white swimsuit clinging to her body.
That body is currently covered up once again with her t-shirt and cutoffs, but she’s no less gorgeous with her casual appearance, windblown hair, and sunkissed skin.
As the sun had fallen lower in the sky, they’d gathered up their belongings and toted them back to Quinn’s car, stopping for a dinner of healthier fare than the greasy foods sold by the beachside vendors before finally arriving back at Quinn’s apartment.
Rachel is a little sad to see the day come to an end, but it’s not quite over yet. She’s got her overnight bag in hand, and Kaitlyn is staying with Michael tonight, which means that she and Quinn have the apartment all to themselves.
She’s really looking forward to spending the evening in Quinn’s arms.
QUINN: “Home sweet home,” Quinn announces as she pushes the door to her apartment open, gesturing for Rachel to go in first.
Her girlfriend smiles at her as she goes, and Quinn feels her own contentment grow—lately home feels more like home when Rachel is here. And after such a wonderful day, Quinn hopes tonight will be just as good.
“Do you want to take a shower first?” she offers after closing the door and locking it behind her.
RACHEL: “A shower sounds wonderful,” Rachel admits, wanting to wash the residue of sand, sunscreen, and sweat off her body before she cuddles with Quinn.
A soft body rubbing against her leg has her bending down with a with a smile to greet Piazza with a scratch behind her ears. “Hello, cutie-pie,” she coos softly before turning her attention back to Quinn.
“Are you sure you don’t mind letting me go first?” she asks, stopping herself short of suggesting they share. She’s not entirely certain Quinn is ready for that kind of intimacy when they still haven’t actually made love yet.
QUINN: “Not at all,” she insists, smiling softly at the sight of Piazza’s eyes closing in contentment as Rachel continues to scratch behind her ears. Rachel’s affection often leaves Quinn feeling much the same way.
“Do you want me to make you some tea for when you get out of the shower?”
RACHEL: “Tea sounds nice,” Rachel decides, giving Piazza one last stroke before she straightens. “The black tonight, I think,” she adds, stepping closer to Quinn. “You know how I like it,” she says playfully, lifting a palm to gently stroke Quinn’s cheek before brushing a quick kiss over her lips.
Rachel grins at Quinn’s little hum of pleasure as she pulls back.
“I promise I won’t be long.”
QUINN: She’s still feeling the effects of Rachel’s kiss even after her girlfriend disappears into the bathroom. Grinning to herself, Quinn sets her bag down before heading into the kitchen. She puts a kettle of water on the stove and pulls a blue mug down from the cabinet, placing it on the counter.
Piazza meows behind Quinn then, and Quinn turns her attention to her roommate’s cat. “Yes, I know you’re hungry,” she murmurs sweetly, retrieving the box of dry cat food from the cabinet beneath the stove and refilling the empty bowl of food.
Quinn scratches Piazza behind the ears affectionately as she begins to eat. She then straightens herself and returns her attention to the task of making tea. But she can’t help but think ahead to the conversation she knows she needs to have with Rachel soon about her tattoo.
RACHEL: She’s not unfamiliar with the shower in Quinn’s apartment. Rachel has used it a few times since they’d started dating. It’s roomy with good water pressure, and every time Rachel uses it, she imagines what it would be like to have Quinn in here with her. And every time, she has to remember that Quinn is just outside the bathroom waiting for her. It’s sweet torture.
She resists the urge to linger under the hot spray, focusing instead on washing her skin and hair as quickly and efficiently as possible. Shutting off the water, Rachel steps out of the shower and grabs a towel, carefully drying her body before she slips into the red athletic shorts and comfy The Devil Wears Prada t-shirt that she’d brought with her to lounge in tonight.
She gathers up her discarded clothes and shoves them into her bag, taking an extra few moments to brush her teeth, and then she pads out of the bathroom to let Quinn have her turn.
QUINN: She’s just finishing pouring steaming water over the tea bag in Rachel’s mug when she hears the bathroom door open. “Perfect timing,” Quinn says with a soft smile, placing the kettle back on the stove before turning to look at her girlfriend.
Quinn’s teeth catch her lower lip as she takes in the sight of a freshly-showered Rachel in her sleepwear, and sweet Jesus, does she look good—simultaneously pulling off the sexy and cute combination. She wishes she didn’t need to shower because all she wants to do right now is take Rachel into her bedroom.
RACHEL: “Well, of course,” Rachel responds cheekily, gliding into Quinn’s space. “Perfect timing is kind of a requirement in my field.”
Quinn laughs at that, gazing at Rachel with affection, and Rachel can’t resist rocking up onto the balls of her feet and kissing her beautiful girlfriend again. Quinn’s lips part against hers, and Rachel sinks into the kiss for a long moment before she reluctantly pulls herself away, playfully smacking Quinn’s very fine ass.
“The shower’s all yours,” she announces with a grin, slipping out of Quinn’s arms—and ignoring her adorable pout—as she glances at the counter.
“Are you having tea too? I can keep the pot on warm until you’re ready.”
QUINN: The pout remains firmly on her lips as Quinn tries to process Rachel’s question despite the desire that’s spiked up from her girlfriend’s talented mouth and playful hands.
“No tea for me,” Quinn replies after a beat, her voice a little huskier than usual. “There’s only one thing I want once I’m ready, and that’s more of your kisses.”
She sends Rachel a sexy half-smile before turning on her heels and strutting toward the bathroom, loving the feeling of dark eyes on her.
RACHEL: Well, damn. Rachel has half a mind to forget her tea and follow Quinn into the bathroom, offering up as many kisses as she’d like.
Biting into her lower lip, Rachel shakes off the lustful notion and turns her attention to her tea, noticing that Quinn had already gotten out the sugar and a spoon and placed it next to her mug. After stirring in a spoonful of the sugar, Rachel takes her tea over to the sofa and settles down to wait for Quinn.
Piazza jumps up next to her almost immediately, letting out a little mewl as she determinedly maneuvers her way onto Rachel’s lap. Laughing, Rachel sinks her fingers into the cat’s soft fur once again and gives into her silent demands for attention.
“You should know,” she warns, “as adorable as you are, as soon as Quinn comes back, my hands will be otherwise occupied.”
Piazza doesn’t seem to care, only pushing her head more firmly into Rachel’s touch as she begins to purr. Rachel grins, wondering how quickly she’ll be able to make Quinn do the same thing.
QUINN: Hot water sprays against Quinn’s back, and it does nothing to temper her libido. Not that she really wants that, but Quinn knows there’s a very important conversation that needs to happen before they take things any further.
It’s something Quinn has been working on resolving ever since their utterly spectacular failure of an attempt at consummating their relationship all those weeks ago.
But despite the nerves that have crept up—and logically, Quinn knows there’s nothing to worry about, but that doesn’t change how she feels—she’s ready.
She loves Rachel and she needs to show her how much.
RACHEL: Between the tea, the cat on her lap, and the very comfy sofa cushions, it doesn’t take long at all for Rachel to feel incredibly relaxed. She closes her eyes for just a moment and smiles to herself as she replays her afternoon with Quinn.
They’d had fun together, in and out of the water, and for a while they’d just sat together and watched the people pass them by, critiquing bathing attire and laughing at the antics of some of the children running up and down the beach.
Rachel hadn’t failed to notice the number of appreciative looks that Quinn had gotten in return from men and women alike. Even though it had roused a little of her insecurity, she’d also discovered that it tickled her pride—because Quinn was there with her.
And in a few minutes, Quinn will be freshly showered and back in her arms, and Rachel will be able to show her how very much she loves her and how proud she is to be with her.
QUINN: After toweling off, Quinn brushes her teeth before throwing on a black tank top and a pair of gray sleep shorts. She gives herself a quick once-over in the mirror to make sure she looks okay before making her way back into the living room.
Rachel turns her attention toward Quinn, and she doesn’t miss the appreciation in her girlfriend’s eyes as she gazes at Quinn, and it makes her feel warm all over.
“You look like you’re very comfortable,” Quinn observes with a small grin. “Do you want to hang out on the couch or...” she nervously licks her lower lip, “or do you want to go to my room?”
RACHEL: If the tea hadn’t already done a good job of heating Rachel up from the inside out, the sight of Quinn in her shorts and tank top with damp hair and glowing skin would get the job done incredibly quickly. And the way Quinn is looking at her when she mentions her bedroom—
“I can be very comfortable in your room,” Rachel answers quickly, her body already buzzing at the thought of slipping into bed with Quinn and exploring how much further they can take their intimacy tonight.
Quinn laughs lightly at the eagerness of her answer, eyes sparkling as she holds out a hand to Rachel.
“Sorry, Piazza,” Rachel says apologetically, glancing down at the cat as she gently nudges her off her lap. “I just got offered a much more desirable cuddle buddy.”
QUINN: Piazza reluctantly climbs down from Rachel’s lap as Rachel takes hold of Quinn’s hand. Gently helping Rachel to her feet, Quinn curves her palm around her girlfriend’s, savoring the connection.
But with every step closer to her bedroom, Quinn feels her nerves creep up ever-so-slightly. She refuses to let that deter her though. Her desire very much outweighs the lingering trepidation of making herself vulnerable.
After crossing the threshold of her bedroom, Quinn offers Rachel a questioning smile, hoping her nerves aren’t showing. “Do you want me to put on some music? Or would you rather I load Netflix on my computer?”
RACHEL: “Well, I do always love to put on a movie and not watch it with you,” Rachel teases with playful grin, “but the music would be nice too.” She gently squeezes the hand that’s still firmly connected to hers. “I think I’ll let you choose tonight.”
Quinn’s comfort is Rachel’s number one priority, especially when it comes to deepening their level of physical intimacy. As much as Rachel wants to tackle Quinn to the bed, strip her naked, and keep her there for at least a week, she also doesn’t want to risk any repeats of what happened on Quinn’s birthday, so she’s decided to keep practicing that patience that she’s been working on and let Quinn set the pace.
“I’m happy just to be here with you,” she promises Quinn with a tender smile.
QUINN: How did I get so lucky? she wonders for the hundredth time, matching Rachel’s tender smile with one of her own as she gently squeezes her hand. “Music it is,” she affirms before reluctantly letting go of Rachel.
Briefly turning her attention to her computer, Quinn pulls up a playlist she’s been working on for longer than she would ever admit, simply titled “My Star.” The first track that starts playing is Snow Patrol’s “Chasing Cars,” and as the guitar intro echoes through her speakers, Quinn turns back to face Rachel, who is now laying on the bed and gazing up at her with what Quinn can only describe as adoration.
RACHEL: While Quinn turns her attention to her computer, Rachel decides to make herself comfortable on the bed, sinking into the mattress with a soft sigh before her eyes stray back to her girlfriend. After a moment, the speakers from Quinn’s computer fill the room with the sounds of their song.
Even though Rachel’s serenade had occurred under less than wonderful circumstances that she’d honestly rather not dwell on, every word had come straight from her heart, and she immediately feels the same overwhelming sense of love and devotion that she’d felt when she’d been holding Quinn in her arms and singing this song to her.
Gazing up at Quinn with undisguised emotion, Rachel pats the mattress next to her. “Come lay with me and just forget the world,” she urges with a smile.
QUINN: “There’s nothing I’d like more,” she says, taking Rachel up on her invitation and climbing onto her bed.
The second Quinn gets settled on her back, Rachel shifts closer, and in a familiar motion, she takes her girlfriend in her arms, relishing the feel of Rachel’s warm body tucked into her side and the fresh scent of shampoo, soap, and what Quinn can only describe as Rachel.
She lets out a soft sigh of contentment, savoring this closeness for a moment as music continues to play in the background.
But soon Rachel’s right hand starts to lightly trail up and down Quinn’s left arm, sending a pleasant shiver through her.
RACHEL: The moment Quinn is next to her, Rachel gravitates to her, melting into her body. It feels like coming home, and Rachel once again finds herself thinking how perfectly they fit together. She doesn’t remember ever feeling quite this content in anyone else’s arms—not even Finn’s.
Itching to touch, Rachel’s fingers begin to dance along the bare skin of Quinn’s arm without her consciously thinking about it, and her eyes lovingly roam over Quinn’s beautiful face, coming to rest on the curve of her lips. Lifting her gaze to hazel eyes, she sees Quinn watching her with amused devotion.
“Hi,” she whispers, grinning besottedly at her girlfriend.
QUINN: “Hi,” she replies just as softly, her own smile growing at the sight of Rachel’s infectious grin. “I love you,” Quinn continues, gazing at her girlfriend intently, needing to convey how much she means it. “You know that, right?”
RACHEL: The intensity of Quinn’s gaze stirs up the butterflies in Rachel’s belly, and her smile trembles a bit around the edges. If not for the smile still on Quinn’s lips, Rachel might worry that her question is a preamble for some grave announcement or attempt to set Rachel free for her own good—again.
“I know,’ Rachel responds, hoping she managed to keep the nerves out of her voice. “And I love you too,” she vows, curling her hand around Quinn’s biceps. “So very much.”
QUINN: Those words are music to Quinn’s ears, and Rachel’s touch grounds her.
“I know being with me hasn’t been easy,” she starts before licking her lips in contemplation. She’s played this conversation over in her head so many times, but actually saying the words out loud makes it so real. “And I... I’m sorry for that,” Quinn continues, and Rachel looks like she wants to object, but Quinn plows on before she can, “but I’ve been working on it. I really have.”
She lifts her left palm to cup Rachel’s face then. “I don’t know that I’ll ever get over Finn’s death and the imprint he’s left on you, but...” Quinn swallows thickly as she closes her eyes. “I want to try. I have to.”
RACHEL: Rachel’s stomach drops when Quinn apologizes once again. She’d hoped so badly that they were finally moving past her need to do that, and she wants to remind Quinn that she chooses to be here with her and Quinn has nothing to be sorry about, but Quinn doesn’t give her the chance.
Instead, she mentions Finn, and Rachel holds her breath for a moment, fearing where Quinn’s misplaced guilt might take them until she confesses that she wants to get over it.
Moving her hand to cover Quinn’s where it cups her cheek, Rachel strokes her thumb over Quinn’s knuckles, hoping to sooth her. “I know you do, baby. But we have time. I’m not going anywhere,” she promises with a reassuring smile.
“And, you know,” she continues quietly, moistening her lips as she gazes into glistening hazel eyes, “the imprint you’ve left on me is pretty significant too.”
A part of her will always love Finn, but he’s Rachel’s past while Quinn is very much her future.
QUINN: She sucks in a breath, not daring to blink. “Do you really mean that?” Quinn asks.
Rachel nods earnestly, curving her palm around the back of Quinn’s hand, but her girlfriend’s words are still a difficult thing for Quinn to wrap her head around.
All she knows is that she’s the luckiest girl on earth and that she never wants to let Rachel go. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me,” she confesses breathlessly before capturing Rachel’s lips between her own.
RACHEL: She falls into Quinn’s kiss with the weightlessness of a soaring heart—sent flying with Quinn’s words. Everything that’s happened over the last eight months since finding Quinn again rushes through Rachel’s mind, pulling her fully into this moment with the knowledge of how far they’ve come and the certainty that they can keep building that future together that Rachel wants so very badly.
Her lips part beneath Quinn’s talented mouth, and Rachel shifts on the bed in an attempt to get even closer. Her arm coils around Quinn’s back, and her hand slips beneath the material of her tank top—palm flattening over soft, warm skin. She wants to touch her everywhere—to show her with touches and kisses and sighs just how deep an imprint Quinn has made on her heart.
QUINN: Rachel’s palm against Quinn’s skin has her moaning softly into Rachel’s mouth—everywhere she touches makes Quinn feel like she’s on fire, her desire for Rachel skyrocketing by the second.
Her own hand slides up Rachel’s back, fingernails lightly scratching as she goes, before hooking her bare leg around Rachel’s, needing to be as close as possible.
RACHEL: The way Quinn responds to her instantly fans the fire in Rachel’s belly into an inferno. For all her determination to be patient and let Quinn set the pace, the slow progression of their physical relationship has been making Rachel crazy, especially when it’s been so very long since she’s been fully intimate with anyone.
Her make-out sessions with Quinn have been wonderful and satisfying in their way, but oh—how she wants to have Quinn completely!
Rachel can feel the heat of Quinn’s body feeding the flames inside of her, and her hips shift restlessly against her girlfriend, searching for friction before she can stop herself.
She really doesn’t want to stop herself—not when Quinn’s tongue is delving deeper into her mouth and teasing her with the promise of all the wonderfully wicked things it could do to other parts of her body.
QUINN: Rachel’s thigh presses between Quinn’s legs, causing Quinn’s hands to momentarily tighten in the fabric of her girlfriend’s shirt as she let’s out soft gasp. God, she loves the way Rachel moves against her—how responsive they both are to each other.
It’s what’s made the physical aspect of their relationship so satisfying despite not going all the way, but Quinn knows Rachel wants more, and she does too.
Breaking their kiss, Quinn rolls Rachel onto her back so she’s firmly atop her, legs sliding together seamlessly as Rachel’s fingers splay against her shoulders. Her mouth soon finds its way to Rachel’s jaw before latching onto an earlobe and suckling as she presses her thigh between Rachel’s legs.
RACHEL: The change of position and the firm press of Quinn’s thigh between her legs sends Rachel’s arousal into overdrive, and a wanton moan falls from her lips as Quinn’s mouth finds the sweet spot behind her ear.
Lightly raking her nails down Quinn’s cotton covered back, Rachel squeezes her eyes shut and savors the weight of Quinn on top of her. Rachel can feel the soft press of fingers teasing against the side of her breast before they slowly trail down over her ribs, and she shivers in pleasure in the wake of Quinn’s touch. But when those warm fingertips slip under the hem of her t-shirt, Rachel’s eyes pop open.
“M-maybe we should...mmm...turn off the light,” she suggests breathlessly, not wanting Quinn to stop what she’s doing but thinking it might be wiser if there was a little less light on the subject should her t-shirt happen to ride up too high.
QUINN: Thoroughly enjoying the feeling of Rachel’s soft curves beneath her, the taste of her skin, and every moan she elicits, it takes Quinn a moment to register Rachel’s request and then another to remember why she would even do so.
There’s an odd but not unfamiliar twist in Quinn’s belly, but she knows it will pass and following Rachel’s suggestion of turning off the light can only help.
“Okay,” Quinn agrees, trying to catch her breath as she reluctantly removes her hands from beneath Rachel’s shirt and lifts herself up slightly so she can switch off the lamp on her bedside table.
But she can’t help sneaking another look at her girlfriend before her face will be hidden by the darkness of her bedroom, and Quinn’s heart swells at the sight.
RACHEL: When Quinn pulls away from her, Rachel scrapes her teeth across her lower lip as her eyes follow her girlfriend. She so very sexy, and Rachel would like nothing more than for that light to stay on so she can watch the play of passion on Quinn’s face, but she knows this is for the best. She’s not sure how far Quinn intends for them to go tonight, but if there’s even a chance of her shirt coming off, she can’t risk testing Quinn’s recent progress with the unfettered sight of her tattoo.
Once the room is cast into darkness, Rachel feels an odd mix of disappointment and relief, but it soon fades beneath a swell of desire when Quinn comes back to her, capturing her mouth in another breathless kiss and unerringly returning her hands to their exploration of Rachel’s skin.
QUINN: Her fingers slowly travel along Rachel’s ribs, and the way Rachel subtly shifts into Quinn’s touch and runs her own hands up Quinn’s back is enough to make her forget all about the ink under her right hand.
All she wants right now is to make Rachel feel good.
Pressing her thigh more firmly against Rachel, Quinn breaks their kiss then, but her mouth soon finds its way to her girlfriend’s neck, suckling lightly as her hands finally cup Rachel’s perfect breasts.
RACHEL: Quinn’s sensual assault has Rachel arching into her touch, and she gasps in pleasure, trying to get closer. Her hips roll against Quinn’s thigh as her fingers scrabble against Quinn’s lower back, pushing away the material of her tank top and seeking out skin.
Quinn’s shirt rides up just enough for Rachel to feel the heat of Quinn’s bare stomach brushing against hers, and—sweet Barbra—she wishes they could just get naked right now. She wants to feel Quinn everywhere.
QUINN: She doesn’t know whether to arch her back into Rachel’s touch or press down to feel more of her girlfriend’s skin against her own. Every movement and sound Rachel makes sends a pleasant ripple of pleasure through Quinn and intensifies her own desire.
Brushing her thumbs over the stiff peaks of Rachel’s nipples—and eliciting another one of those wonderful gasps—Quinn then lets her mouth travel lower, placing open-mouth kisses along the column of Rachel’s throat down to her collarbone.
She wants to taste Rachel everywhere.
RACHEL: Helpless to resist the magic of Quinn’s touch, Rachel tilts her head back and moans her name. Her body throbs with pleasure at every point of contact, driving her closer to ecstasy with every teasing scrape of Quinn’s nails against her nipples and every suckle of her mouth against Rachel’s skin.
Driven by need, Rachel slides her leg over the back of Quinn’s thigh and shifts restlessly against her girlfriend. She drags a hand down Quinn’s back until her fingers can dip beneath the elastic waistband of Quinn’s shorts and sink into the soft swell of her ass.
“God, I want you so much,” she gasps breathlessly.
QUINN: A soft moan escapes Quinn’s lips—both from the sensation of Rachel’s hand squeezing Quinn’s backside and her wanton plea.
“I want you too,” Quinn breathes against Rachel’s skin as she rolls her hips and teases Rachel’s nipples. Rachel gasps once more, tightening her hold on Quinn and causing her to let out another moan. “So much,” she gasps out, and oh, God, does she.
She needs to be closer—to feel every inch of Rachel’s skin against her own, to explore every inch of her body with her mouth and hands—and she doesn’t want to wait any longer.
Sliding her hands down Rachel’s sides, Quinn then hooks her fingers into the fabric of her girlfriend’s shirt, eager to remove the barriers between them.
RACHEL: She wants nothing more than to give every part of herself to Quinn and explore every part of Quinn in return, but the feeling of Quinn’s hands steadily lifting away the material of her shirt sends a sharp blade of awareness cutting into Rachel’s haze of passion. Her own hands jerk away from Quinn’s body to hastily close around Quinn’s wrists.
“Wait,” Rachel begs softly, searching Quinn’s confused eyes when they fly to meet hers.
“Are...are you sure?” she asks carefully, needing to be certain that Quinn isn’t pushing herself too far or too fast just because Rachel wants this so very much.
QUINN: When Rachel’s warm grip stops Quinn, her heart momentarily drops into her stomach. But the second those questioning words reach Quinn’s ears, her heart swells once more.
“I am,” Quinn replies a bit breathlessly, searching Rachel’s face through the darkness of the bedroom. “I love you, Rachel, and I want you,” she continues, gazing intently at her girlfriend. “I need you.”
RACHEL: Quinn’s words—said with confidence and desire—are exactly what Rachel needs to hear. She trusts Quinn and trusts that she knows what she wants and needs. The fact that she wants and needs Rachel—it makes her heart soar and her body beg to give Quinn everything she needs.
“Then I’m yours,” Rachel promises with a smile, letting go of Quinn’s wrists so she can help her girlfriend strip the offending material away from her body.
QUINN: Rachel’s declaration is music to Quinn’s ears, and it both settles her and spurs her on. Only knowing one way to show Rachel how she feels, Quinn captures her lips in a heated kiss, pouring all her love and desire into it before continuing to lift her girlfriend’s shirt up.
Quinn breaks their kiss so she can finally remove Rachel’s shirt and catch her breath, but the sight beneath her makes Quinn’s breath get stuck in her throat. Even though they’re cast in darkness, she’s able to make out the gentle swell of Rachel’s breasts and the soft curve of her hips.
“You’re so beautiful,” Quinn murmurs before ducking her head and wrapping her lips around one of Rachel’s nipples.
RACHEL: She can feel the heat of Quinn’s gaze on her through the darkness right before she feels the heat of her mouth on her breast. It sets Rachel’s body on fire all over again, and she arches into the sensation, sinking her fingers into Quinn’s still-damp hair.
“Oh, sweet heaven,” Rachel whispers mindlessly, eyes fluttering closed as she loses herself to the pleasure of finally having Quinn’s lips and tongue worshipping her naked skin. “You feel so good.”
Every lick and nip and kiss sends a current straight to her clit, and her hips rock helplessly in time with Quinn’s seduction. Groaning, Rachel’s left hand reaches down to bunch into the material of Quinn’s tank top and tugs. “But you’re wearing too many clothes.”
QUINN: She releases Rachel’s nipple from her mouth and lets out a heavy breath as Rachel pulls on her tank top—her girlfriend’s desire for her body making Quinn feel wanted in a way that no one else has. Quinn is all too happy to oblige, and she’s quick to help Rachel strip her topless, not paying much attention to where her tank top ends up.
Rachel’s fingers once again thread between Quinn’s hair before gently urging her head down for a searing kiss.
Quinn moans into Rachel mouth as her bare skin finally comes into contact with her girlfriend’s.
RACHEL: The press of Quinn’s naked breasts against her own feels so much better than Rachel had imagined, and she revels in the intimacy of it as she tastes the heady vibrations of Quinn’s moan. Satisfied that Quinn isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, Rachel abandons Quinn’s hair to gently drag her nails down Quinn’s back, scraping along her ribs until she can stroke the sides of her breasts.
She wishes she could see all of Quinn’s body unfettered by the darkness, but she knows this is how it has to be for now, and it’s enough.
“You’re so sexy,” she mumbles against Quinn’s lips. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”
QUINN: Happy tears spring to hazel eyes, and Quinn smiles into their kiss. “I’m all yours,” she affirms with a soft whisper before swiping her tongue against Rachel’s and lifting her torso up so Rachel can explore.
And when those perfect fingers find their way to Quinn’s breasts, teasing her nipples, Quinn gasps, feeling a bolt of pleasure shoot all the way down to her core.
RACHEL: The first time that Rachel had seen Quinn Fabray at the tender age of thirteen, she’d experienced a moment of utter awe in the face of Quinn’s unparalleled beauty. She’d been too young and too caught up in her single-minded vision of her future on Broadway and meeting her leading man to even consider the possibility that one day she’d be here with a half-naked Quinn on top of her while holding her perfect breasts in her very eager hands.
Right now, she feels like that awestruck thirteen year old girl all over again. Her inner horny teenager is screaming at her to rip off Quinn’s shorts, flip her over on the mattress, and touch her everywhere at once—fumbling inelegance be damned.
But her heart is demanding that she slow down and savor every single touch and kiss so she can show Quinn in intimate detail just how much, “I love you.”
Smiling, Quinn leans down to kiss her again. Rachel continues to tease Quinn’s breast with one hand while the other trails down over the soft skin of Quinn’s belly, heading steadily south because Quinn is still wearing too many clothes.
QUINN: The heat between them continues to climb with every kiss and touch, and butterflies erupt in Quinn’s belly as Rachel’s hand continues to trail lower. Warm fingers slip inside the waistband of her shorts, and she instinctively lifts her hips.
As eager as she is to have Rachel, there’s a part of Quinn that wants nothing more than to have Rachel’s hand between her thighs.
RACHEL: A grin curves Rachel’s lips as her fingers seek out the tempting heat between Quinn’s legs. A guttural moan tears out of Quinn’s mouth as her back arches and hips roll into Rachel’s touch, and even without the light on, Rachel can see the rapture painting Quinn’s gorgeous face. She decides right then and there that touching Quinn this way is her favorite thing ever and sinks her fingers deeper into liquid fire.
“Is this for me?” she teases breathlessly—though, truth be told, Rachel is still a little amazed that she actually has the power to do this to Quinn.
QUINN: “All for you,” Quinn confirms with a pleasured gasp as two fingers slide between her folds. “You feel so good, Rachel,” she pants out, shifting her hips further up to give her girlfriend easier access and taking in the awed expression on her face.
RACHEL: “Oh, God, so do you,” Rachel murmurs dazedly, unable to look away from Quinn’s face.
Feeling Quinn this way has Rachel’s own desire rising exponentially and her hips shifting against the mattress even as she sinks deeper into the silken heat surrounding her fingers. Quinn is so wet and so wonderfully responsive, but, “I really need you to be naked now,” Rachel practically begs, even though she never wants to move her hand from its glorious place inside of Quinn.
QUINN: Rachel’s request sends Quinn’s desire even higher, despite those talented fingers slipping out of her and leaving her wanting.
But then Rachel’s hands are hooking into her waistband, and Quinn feels those butterflies erupt once more. Still, she completely understands Rachel’s own need.
“Only if you join me,” Quinn husks.
RACHEL: A soft moan bubbles past Rachel’s lips at the thought of finally—finally!—being fully naked with Quinn.
“Absolutely. I will absolutely join you,” she promises eagerly, accepting the permission she’s been given to ease Quinn’s shorts down over the luscious swell of her hips. “But you first.”
QUINN: The eagerness in Rachel’s voice and touch sends another rush of warmth through Quinn, and it makes her want to give everything—mind, body, and heart—to Rachel.
Quinn shifts her hips further up so Rachel can slide her shorts down without any obstacles, and then bends her knees, scooting further up the bed so that Rachel can undress her completely.
Despite the darkness, Quinn can feel the ardent gaze of brown eyes roaming over her body, and Quinn’s heart races that much faster.
RACHEL: Quinn shifts over Rachel until she comes to rest at Rachel’s side, giving her better access to her body, and Rachel takes enthusiastic advantage of the change in position to finish stripping away Quinn’s shorts. Her fingertips trail over the smoothness of Quinn’s skin from hip to ankle even as her eyes caress every inch of Quinn revealed to her, and she carelessly tosses the shorts away before focusing all of her attention on her girlfriend.
“Oh, Quinn,” she breathes—mouth watering at the beauty laid out before her. Rachel reaches out her suddenly trembling fingers, still coated with the proof of Quinn’s arousal, to reverently trace the curve of her hip.
“You’re perfect.”
QUINN: Her eyes water once more, almost unable to fathom Rachel’s words. Despite all her efforts to achieve perfection throughout her life, Quinn has always come up woefully short. But this—right now, laid bare before Rachel’s eyes and trembling touch—this is perfect.
Lifting her hand, Quinn palms Rachel’s cheek. “I love you,” she breathes with a tearful smile, not knowing what else to say, before leaning in for another kiss.
RACHEL: “I love you too,” Rachel murmurs against Quinn’s lips before sinking into her kiss.
Rachel can’t quite decide whether she wants to worship Quinn slowly or just let go and ravish her. With the heat of Quinn’s magnificent body burning her from the outside in, Rachel’s own body is screaming for the latter. Her rising desire has her forgetting about her promise to let Quinn get her naked too and has her hands resuming a greedy exploration of Quinn’s breasts while her leg slips between Quinn’s thighs, pressing up against the slick heat of her core until Quinn tears her mouth away from Rachel’s with a wanton moan.
It’s music to Rachel’s ears.
QUINN: The way Rachel’s thigh presses against Quinn’s core and thumbs tease her nipples has Quinn lightly gripping the back of Rachel’s head as her hips start to rock. She’s practically helpless to stop them, but she doesn’t exactly want to. Having Rachel’s (mostly) bare skin against her own is sending her desire to heights Quinn’s never known before.
So when Rachel’s touch grows more enthusiastic, her body pressing more fervently against Quinn’s, she lets Rachel take control and soon finds herself on her back with her girlfriend atop her and that talented mouth latched onto Quinn’s pulse point while her hips continue to rock.
RACHEL: Having Quinn spread out beneath her, so open and responsive and so very, very hot, is like a drug going straight to Rachel’s head—and certain other parts of her body. The sweet taste of Quinn’s skin on her tongue only makes her want more, so she sets out on a mission to sample every inch, kissing her way down Quinn’s neck and sternum until her mouth closes over one stiff nipple.
Conscious of Quinn’s hips rolling wantonly against her, Rachel continues to swirl her tongue around Quinn’s nipple while one hand glides down between their bodies to find its home in the heart of Quinn’s desire.
She’ll get around to tasting that too, but first she wants to touch.
QUINN: Another moan tears from Quinn’s chest when two of Rachel’s fingers slide between her folds and then inside. That combined with Rachel’s mouth on her nipple has Quinn feeling like she’s died and gone to heaven.
Rachel starts moving her hand in a slow but steady rhythm, and Quinn’s mouth falls open in pleasure as her own fingers thread into brown hair as her hips continue to roll, meeting Rachel thrust for thrust.
“Just like that, Rachel” Quinn pants. “God, you feel so good.”
RACHEL: Rachel’s lips curve around Quinn’s nipple, and she silently preens at the verbal confirmation that she’s making Quinn feel good—although the physical cues are pretty damn obvious. Rachel loves it—loves the way Quinn’s body strains to match her movements and the sound of her moans and whimpers and husky demands for Rachel to keep touching her just like this.
Her own need increases right along with Quinn’s mounting passion, and Rachel’s hips roll against Quinn’s thigh as she kisses and licks a path between Quinn’s breasts, learning every contour even while she thrusts her curling fingers in and out of Quinn’s heat.
Rachel can’t quite decide whether she wants to make Quinn come just like this or replace her fingers with her mouth and finally taste Quinn in the most intimate way.
Her mouth begins to drifts down.
QUINN: The combination of Rachel’s mouth on Quinn’s body and fingers sliding in and out of her heat is almost overwhelming, and it’s all Quinn can do to just hold on and move against and with Rachel.
But when that talented mouth starts traveling further south, Quinn’s stomach flutters with anticipation as her heart swells while somehow beating even faster.
And then Rachel’s breath is washing over her center, and Quinn forgets how to breathe.
RACHEL: She pauses for just a moment to inhale the heady scent of Quinn’s arousal, quietly moaning in anticipation. Drawing out their mutual satisfaction, Rachel continues to gently work her fingers inside of Quinn as she dips her head to kiss the soft patch of skin beneath Quinn’s navel before trailing her eager mouth down to her hip and then the inside of her thigh.
Quinn groans in frustration, hissing out Rachel’s name while her hips lift off the mattress and her fingers curl into Rachel’s hair to urge her to the place she needs her most.
Rachel is only too happy to comply, moaning again at the first incredible taste of Quinn’s essence on her tongue.
QUINN: She lets out a soft cry at the feeling of finally having Rachel’s mouth on her, and that combined with the vibration of her girlfriend’s moan has Quinn dangerously close to the brink already.
Rachel begins to move her mouth in tandem with her fingers, and Quinn’s fingers tighten in brown hair as her hips subtly rock.
“Oh, God, yes,” Quinn pants. “So good. So, so good.”
RACHEL: Oh, yes. So very, very good, Rachel silently agrees, eyelids fluttering as she explores the soft, sweet heat of Quinn. Her tongue delves deeper into Quinn’s folds, teasing her clit even while her fingers keep working inside of Quinn.
Rachel takes note of every reaction, learning exactly what makes Quinn pant and gasp and moan. She can sense Quinn getting closer with every ministration, and her own need intensifies in tandem with Quinn’s growing pleasure. It drives Rachel on, determined to make Quinn fall apart for her.
QUINN: She’s close.
Oh, God, she’s so close, and this is beyond heaven.
It’s not going to take much more, and with every thrust of fingers insider her and that talented tongue brushing against her clit, Quinn feels her pleasure building.
She hasn’t even come yet, but she’s never felt anything like this—her entire body is alight, tingling with pleasure, and it almost feels like she’s in an altered state.
And then Rachel wraps her lips around Quinn’s clit and starts to suckle as the speed of her fingers increase, and Quinn’s hips buck as her entire body goes taut—white, hot pleasure radiating up from her core and filling her entire body.
RACHEL: Quinn’s inner walls tighten around Rachel’s fingers, fluttering with intense spasms as she comes apart under Rachel’s touch. Rachel gazes up Quinn’s body as best as she can through the darkness while she continues to coax Quinn through her orgasm, and she wishes she could watch the ecstasy play across her face, but she wouldn’t trade the touch, the taste, the sounds of Quinn’s release for anything.
When Quinn finally comes crashing back to the mattress, spent and breathless, Rachel gently eases her fingers out of her to the sound of Quinn’s soft moan, and she presses a final kiss to Quinn’s inner thigh before quickly crawling back up her body to see the final result of her efforts. Her breath catches in her throat and her body throbs at the sight of Quinn completely undone—heavy-lidded, lips parted, and glistening with perspiration.
“You’re incredible,” she whispers in awe, brushing her fingers through the mussed hair at Quinn’s temple.
QUINN: She still hasn’t entirely come back to herself and she’s still trying to catch her breath when Rachel’s loving gaze comes into view. Quinn’s never felt so sated and content before, and it has everything to do with Rachel.
So when Rachel whispers, all Quinn can do is shake her head as her lips curve up slightly.
“You’re incredible,” Quinn argues before drawing Rachel’s head down and capturing her mouth in a heated kiss, intent on showing her girlfriend just how much she means that.
RACHEL: Moaning into Quinn’s kiss, Rachel lowers her body on top of Quinn until they’re pressed together enticingly from breasts to bellies, and her hips roll helplessly against her girlfriend. She’s so turned on from everything they’ve already done—the shorts that she never managed to remove are uncomfortably damp—and she’s afraid it won’t take much at all for her to climax.
Quinn’s tongue seeks out hers, and Rachel dizzily wonders if she can taste herself. One hand tangles in Quinn hair while the other reaches for Quinn’s, twining their fingers together. When Quinn eventually releases her mouth for a much needed breath, Rachel presses her forehead to Quinn’s staring deeply into hazel eyes.
“I love you so much,” she husks, hips still moving wantonly against Quinn. “And I love the way you feel against me. Like we were made for this,” she murmurs in wonder, realizing how true it is. She and Quinn just fit together so perfectly.
She never wants to be anywhere else.
QUINN: “I love you too,” she breathes out, gazing intently into brown eyes, her love and need for Rachel growing. “And I couldn’t agree more.”
Quinn caps off that affirmation with another kiss, once against tasting herself on Rachel’s tongue, and it spurs Quinn on. Her hands slide down Rachel’s bare back before grabbing onto her ass, which is still covered by shorts, much to her chagrin.
“I want this off,” Quinn husks against Rachel’s mouth, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her girlfriend’s shorts.
RACHEL: “Mm, anything you want,” Rachel promises easily.
Though she’s reluctant to move her body away from Quinn’s for even a moment, she wants Quinn’s touch on her bare flesh even more, so she plants her palms against the mattress and pushes up and off of Quinn, rolling to her side to give her girlfriend unrestricted access to her body.
Quinn is quick to take advantage of Rachel’s new position by moving over her before hooking her fingers back into the waistband of Rachel’s shorts and beginning to slide them down with a predatory smirk on her lips.
QUINN: Quinn’s pulse quickens as she finally lowers Rachel’s shorts over the swell of her perfect ass and then down the smooth skin of the most gorgeous pair of legs Quinn has ever laid eyes on or had the privilege to touch.
She thinks she could spend hours worshiping them, but right now there’s another part of Rachel that Quinn needs to taste and touch.
After tossing Rachel’s shorts off to the side of the bed, Quinn slides her hands back up deliciously long legs, lowering her upper body as she goes. The scent of Rachel’s arousal hits her, and Quinn’s mouth waters as her eyes fluttered closed.
RACHEL: The sight of Quinn hungrily sliding over her body, eyeing Rachel’s exposed sex like it’s a feast that she can’t wait to devour, sends Rachel’s arousal flying to a height she’s never before experienced, and she curls her fingers into the wrinkled sheets beneath her. The anticipation of Quinn’s touch is such sweet torture, and Rachel’s hips shift restlessly beneath her.
“Please, Quinn. I need you,” she begs, spreading her legs wider in invitation.
QUINN: The need and want in Rachel’s voice is music to Quinn’s ears, and she’s all too happy to comply.
Quinn settles down between Rachel’s legs, wrapping her arms around perfect thighs. She inhales deeply once more before finally taking mercy on her girlfriend, lowering her head and licking a hot stripe up Rachel’s center.
RACHEL: At the first touch of Quinn’s tongue, Rachel moans in pleasure as her back arches off the mattress. Electricity zings through her body, setting fire to every atom before it rebounds hard and fast back to her center.
“Oh, my God. Yes,” she pants breathlessly, twisting her fists into the sheets as the throbbing between her legs blossoms under Quinn’s attention. “Oh...don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”
QUINN: Rachel’s pleas are entirely unnecessary—Quinn has no intention of ever stopping—but she can’t deny the thrill that goes through her at Rachel’s words. But the boost it gives Quinn’s ego pales in comparison to her need to make Rachel feel good.
Rachel’s heady taste on Quinn’s tongue is beyond compare, and she can’t stop herself from moaning as she continues to worship her girlfriend with her mouth.
RACHEL: She’s dancing along the edge of the abyss, already on the verge of falling over. Quinn’s mouth is so incredibly talented, and every brush of her tongue pushes Rachel closer. Her grip on the sheets slackens only to delve into Quinn’s hair—one hand sinking into the silky strands to hold her close while the other roams over her own breast, teasing the sensitive nipple.
Rachel’s hips rock instinctively into Quinn’s mouth, and though her head wants to tip back against the mattress as she gasps and moans, she keeps struggling to lift it enough to look down her body to see the blonde head bobbing between her thighs.
“Oh, fuck,” she groans, slamming her head back into the mattress at the erotic vision before her eyes.
It feels like every part of her body is connected to a thread that keeps pulling tighter and tighter with every intimate kiss Quinn bestows on her, and it’s just about to snap.
QUINN: The curse that spills from Rachel’s lips is surprising but very much a turn on, and Quinn’s eyes flutter closed as fingers tug on her hair, drawing her impossibly closer to Rachel’s sex.
Thighs tighten around Quinn’s head then, and Quinn sucks harder on Rachel’s clit, sensing that her girlfriend’s close to the edge and wanting nothing more than to pull her over it.
RACHEL: Her body hangs quivering on the tip of a beautiful precipice that’s higher than any Rachel has ever scaled, but then Quinn does something particularly magical with her tongue and—
Everything seems to freeze for a single heartbeat before exploding into bright white light behind her eyelids and sending her falling over the edge. Her body shudders and pulses with pleasure that ripples out from her center as she crashes into ecstasy, and she’s only distantly aware of the gasps and moans and nonsensical words slipping past her lips as she rides out the seemingly endless waves of her climax.
Quinn is right there with her through it all, coaxing every last spasm from her body until Rachel finally collapses into a boneless heap beneath her girlfriend, completely sated.
QUINN: She’s seen and heard and felt Rachel come before, but there’s something about making her come with her mouth that makes Quinn feel it much more acutely. Rachel is the best thing she’s ever tasted, and the sheer intimacy of it all makes everything feel heightened.
After the last tremor of pleasure courses through Rachel’s body, Quinn gently removes her mouth from her girlfriend’s clit before slowly moving up Rachel’s body, pressing soft, open-mouth kisses as she goes and savoring the taste of her skin.
RACHEL: Lost inside a pleasant haze of post-coital bliss, Rachel distantly registers the soft heat of Quinn’s mouth traveling the contours of her spent body. When Quinn finally reaches the curve her of neck, Rachel musters up the strength to lift her heavy arm from where it had fallen uselessly to the mattress so she can cup the back of Quinn’s head.
Quinn removes her lips from Rachel’s skin at the touch, hovering over her with a grin that’s caught somewhere between satisfied and smug and is altogether rakish. Rachel can’t help but find it incredibly sexy.
“That was...wow,” Rachel murmurs, unable to put her words together into any kind of coherent sentence that could possibly describe what she’d just experienced—what she very much hopes to experience again really soon and everyday for the rest of her life.
QUINN: That feeling of satisfaction grows at the sight a thoroughly sated and spent Rachel, but Quinn definitely agrees with her description.
“You’re amazing, Rachel,” she murmurs, searching brown eyes for a moment. “I’m so very lucky,” she adds before leaning down and kissing Rachel as she settles her body atop her girlfriend’s, enjoying the feeling of skin against skin.
RACHEL: Smiling into the kiss, Rachel wraps her arms around Quinn and welcomes the weight of her body on top of her. She’d be content to stay like this forever.
“I’m the lucky one,” Rachel argues sweetly, running her hands down Quinn’s back. “I’m so happy I found you again.”
And she’s never letting go.
QUINN: A small wave of guilt crashes over Quinn, despite knowing she shouldn’t feel that way.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” she replies softly, trying to shake away her regret, “but I promise I’m not going anywhere. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you. I love you, Rachel.”
Quinn kisses Rachel again, intent on showing her just how much for as long as she’s able.
RACHEL:“I love you too,” Rachel whispers between kisses.
They can’t change the past, but they can let go and start their future. Isn’t that what Quinn had told her so many years ago?
Right now, Rachel’s future is feeling pretty damned bright as she gives herself over to Quinn’s kiss. There’s a part of her, of course, that knows from painful experience just how easily Fate can step in to break even the most earnest promise, but she has Quinn in her arms right now, and Quinn has every intention of staying here, and that’s all Rachel can ask.
Fate brought them back to one another for a reason, and she thinks maybe they’re finally right where they’re meant to be.
when: monday, july 27th
where: evan’s apartment
what: andrea stages a mini-intervention, evan has none of it, they fight, evan leaves like a pussy, andrea is pissed off. i hate this.
warning: substance mention (but no one actually uses anything this time, that’s a first), domestic abuse mention
Andrea had never really been in the situation where her friends had hated someone she dated - at least not while she was dating them. And she really didn't like the feeling at all, mostly because she knew they were right. But she just really liked Spike, and she didn't want it to be another stupid situation where she didn't pursue things and then was left wondering for what felt like forever. Andrea just wanted to be able to say that at least she'd tried to make things work. But also, Spike was one of her friends too, and the thought of him - in the future - hooking up with someone like her and talking about her the way he'd talked about Tabitha sent Andrea's gut churning. She never wanted anyone to hate her that much, not that she wasn't doing a good job of preventing that with Evan. Evan, whose drawer she was cleaning her clothes out of since her dating Spike had pretty much single-handedly ruined their friendship. She sighed upon finding a pair of his jeans carelessly thrown into "her" drawer, fixing them so they weren't inside out and fixing the pockets. She hummed curiously as she pulled something out of one of them, expecting to find a note or receipt or something and finding... coke? Should she pretend she never found it? Put it away behind The Odyssey where his weed goes and just finish packing? She sat there, debating on whether talking to him about it would be a good idea. Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself to her feet and made her way down the steps with the small bag of coke in hand, leaning against the opening to his kitchen - where he was sitting and reading while eating (except not because he was too busy reading). "Do I need to stage an intervention?" she gave him a weak smile as she held the bag out to him, obviously hesitant and unable to gauge how to react in this situation.
Evan: felt awkward which was really weird because he hasn't felt this awkward since well, ever. He also felt upset but at himself now too for making Andrea...cry. He didn't mean to but he just got so annoyed with the fact that she's dating Spike that it's hard not biting back his tongue. It's funny really, how before Evan never asked questions about how she really is and didn't share -- actually, he still doesn't share half of what he's feeling to Andrea-- but now they pretty much tell each other everything and Andrea has grown so much on him that she's ultimately his best-friend. So it was only natural that he spat all the facts about what a bloody twat Spike is to her, reminding her of all the bad stuff he's done but all he got in return was a sad Andrea and this awkward tension and jittery feelings. He can't even eat his stupid muffin and he's still stuck on the same sentence of his book that it's hurting his head and maybe he should go outside and clear his head but Andrea is here packing away her stuff and well, that be rude of him to leave even though he kind of already has. He's short with her, doesn't really talk to her and whereas it's kind of painful he really can't right now. "A what?" he asked, glancing up when the shorter girl walked into the room, eyes flickering down to what she had in hand. He blinked once and then twice -- where did she get that? "It's nothing." he simply stated with a shrug after a brief pause. He left that in his jeans, how did she even -? Did she go through his stuff? Not that he minded really but still, made him a little anxious that his fingers twitched a little before he started drumming them against the table.
Andrea sighed at his short answer; of course he wasn't going to say much about it. While she knew Evan really well she also knew there was a lot she didn't know, and now that everything was all messed up she probably wouldn't ever. She dropped her arm, studying his fidgeting for a moment walking over to sit in the seat next to him at the table, placing it in front of him. "It doesn't seem like it's nothing, considering you're being all fidgety." she ran a hand through her hair, chewing at her lip. "This isn't like, a habit right? I don't have to like, get Ezra or something to help me intervene and tell you to get your shit together? Because you'd tell me, right? Or I mean-. You'd tell him at least, wouldn't you?" she wasn't looking at him anymore, toying with the small bag to keep herself occupied.
Evan: stopped drumming his fingers along the counter and instead put his book down and removed his hands because he was not fidgety. "No, it's not." though he doesn't know whether having a line or three the last couple of days would be considered a habit, he's just been stressed and sleep deprived, he needs something to keep him going and weed isn't cutting it anymore. And why would Ezra have to know? He doesn't think Ezra would care about what he's taking. "Tell him what, Andrea? It's really nothing." he said, picking at his muffin before grabbing and standing up to throw it away, he lost his appetite.
Andrea bit her lip, trying to suppress any frustrated comment that could leak through her lips before she could think about it. He hardly ever called her by her first name, but now it seemed like it's all she ever her anymore and honestly... she didn't like it. "I don't know. That you need help? If you need it." she watched him as he stood to throw his muffin away. She didn't know why she thought she'd try to talk to him about it. He was still irritated with her; if he ever would talk to her about it, it definitely wouldn't be now. "So it'd be nothing if I tossed it out?" she asked casually. And well, that was dumb - coke was expensive, it'd be more weird if he didn't have a reaction to her saying that.
Evan: rubbed the back of his neck, he let out a small sigh and turned around to lean against the counter near the fridge. "Help? I'm not an addict, you don't see me scabbing at my skin or something do you?" honestly, where was she even going with this? Evan is a big boy, he can make his own decisions and he knows how to control himself, Christ, this was ridiculous. "What?" he gave her an incredulous look, shaking his head, "that's ninety-six pounds right there, you can't just throw it out." And he laughed dryly, she was messing with him she wouldn't throw out his coke. He licked his lips, she wouldn't right? He's not a coke-head and maybe he is a bit jittery and maybe he's being a little cold towards Andrea but in his defense he hasn't slept well and he's still annoyed and this is just the icing on the cake. "Don't, alright? Just don't." he sighed.
Andrea raised an eyebrow at him. "You don't have be acting crazy to be addicted, Evan." she pulled up the strap of her tank top that had fallen off her shoulder, looking at him incredulously. Okay, so coke costed almost one-hundred pounds. That was absolutely ridiculous, Andrea thought she could cry just thinking about spending that much for the amount of coke in the bag in front of her. Then again, Evan had a lot more money than she did. Still, he looked nervous and irritated and maybe she should have mercy on him and give him a break. Regardless, Andrea grabbed the bag and stormed to the window, grunting slightly as she pushed it open. "Don't think I won't throw it out." she threatened, tugging the bag open and holding it over where Evan's window overlooked. "Answer my questions or it starts snowing. How often have you been doing it?" she questioned, looking at him seriously.
Evan: 's jaw clenched, he knows that he was just making a point. Why was she even doing this right now? It was just coke...well, Evan knows it's more than just that he knows what can happen if he isn't cautious about what he's doing but he isn't craving it every second of the day. He was going to have a line after Andrea left but that didn't prove anything. "What are you doing -- jesus," Evan stood up straighter when Andrea opened the window, she was being serious, "just close the bloody window." Who did she think she was? His mother? The police asking him all these stupid questions? He took in a deep breath, he knows how stubborn and hot headed Andrea can be so he might as well answer her question before he cringes at all those notes out the window. "Every other week." he lied through his teeth, more like every other day but.
Andrea didn't move from her place at the window, glad that he was actually showing some semblance of acting like he cared about what was going on. But she could tell he was lying, and she stared at him steadily before turning to pour some out of the bag - not all of it, but the loss was noticeable. "Don't fucking lie to me, Evan. How often?" she demanded.
Evan: flinched the tiniest bit when she tipped a little over. He answered her question, Christ how would she even know he's lying? He made sure his voice was steady and that he was looking right at her but that clearly didn't work. "Does it matter?" he snapped, running both hands through his hair, why can't she leave him alone? He's done pestering her about Spike must she pester him about something that doesn't make him cry or heartbroken? "Here and then, happy?"
Andrea "Yes it fucking matters." she snapped back at him. She sighed, turning to pour more out - still not all of it, though at this point there wasn't much left. "Give me a straight forward answer, Evan." did she even have any right to do this to him? He was her best friend, she just wanted him to be okay and not put his life in danger by doing coke. Even if he was pissed off at her.
Evan: didn't want to do this anymore, he pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "You know what? Pour it all out, I can just go buy some more tonight. Go for it, Andrea, do it." he gives up, he doesn't care. Evan has the money and fighting with Andrea is a waste of time and he doesn't have to answer to her if he doesn't want to.
Andrea just looked at him, feeling guilty immediately. Why? Why should she feel guilty? She almost didn't turn to drop the rest, fidgeting before doing so and throwing the empty bag at him - even though it was pointless since it hardly traveled and landed on the floor closer to her than to him. "Evan, please. I know you hate me right now but I just-. I don't want anything to happen to you." she sighed, taking a step towards him but then backtracking immediately.
Evan: closed his eyes briefly -- so she wasted all of his coke. God, he was definitely going on a run for more later because after this scene he's going to need something to relax his nerves. "I don't hate you." he groaned, opening his eyes again, "I hate your choices, there's a difference." Evan tried not to roll his eyes because really? He can take care of himself, nothing is going to happen to him. "Save it, Andrea, fuck, why don't you worry about yourself and what could happen to you, yeah?" He replied coldly and pushed himself off the counter and walked out of the kitchen and towards the living room, he doesn't want to keep talking he just...needs to gather his thoughts.
Andrea just looked at him, slightly startled, before following after him into the living room. "Dating a guy that's kind of an ass isn't anything compared to you doing coke." she countered, rushing in front of him so she could talk to him face-to-face. "The worst that can happen to me is like - me being sad for a while if things don't work. I love you and something bad could really happen to you, Evan." she pleaded.
Evan: stopped in his tracks, scowling for being stopped halfway. "Kind of? That's the best joke I've heard all week." he laughed, it was humorless and he pushed past Andrea, can't she see that he's trying to get away from her? "Be sad for a while? And what for? Because he got tired of you and dumped you and went on about some sob story to the next girl that you wouldn't have sex with him? Or maybe he'll hook up with someone while he's still with you like he did to that other girl yeah? Hm?" he turned back around, completely turning away from the subject of coke and himself, "And for what, Andrea? What makes him so different from the rest down the line? Did he make you cry less?" He should probably stop talking before he says something he regrets, but he's irritated and itching and Andrea threw his fucking coke out the window and he won't be able to get any until tomorrow which really isn't an option but he's going to have to deal with it. "Maybe he's less obsessive of who you hang out with? Less controlling? Manipulative?" he kept going though, but at this point he doesn't know if he saying all of this to open her eyes or just because he wants to get her pissed off for making him pissed off. "Or maybe he doesn't hit you." he said, voice cool, steady but with a harsh sting.
Andrea huffed. "Okay, but that's not what this is about-..." she stopped as he pushed past her, swallowing thickly and pivoted on her heel to go after him again, but he turned on her before she could even send the message from her brain to her legs. During his whole rant she didn't know what to say, her mouth opening and closing to say something in retaliation but before she could even think of anything to sputter out he kept going on and on. Her brain was running a mile a minute trying to think of all the things Evan was listing off, but he was way ahead of her and by the time his last sentence hit her ears anything she could've said completely flew out of her head. Okay... She refused to cry - she was not going to cry. Evan didn't physically hit her but she feels like he might as well have - she'd told him about Hayden in confidence and he was just throwing it in her face because he was mad at her. She took a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut and looking at her feet. She's not going to make any jabs at him out of hurt. She's not - but she is going to cry because she's not going to let her anger come out any other way. "Fuck you, Evan." she turned and ran up the steps, slamming his bedroom door shut and locking it. Right - as if he'd try to come and follow her. Now she just needs to finish packing so she can get out.
Evan: could tear his hair out right about now. Maybe he shouldn't have said what he said and maybe he should have regretted those words the moment they spilled out of his mouth and maybe he should be worried that frankly he doesn't have the heart to care right now. Her words did nothing but make him turn the other way, heading in the direction of the door, throwing on his jacket, shoving his wallet in his pocket grabbed his keys and walked right out of the house towards his but not before slamming the door shut. He was probably being over dramatic but he can't help it and he doesn't know why he hates Spike so much, whether it's for hurting Andrea so much or probably hurting Tabitha too and the thought of the blonde girl made him pause but quickly shook her out of his thoughts, no he's over her, he has got to stop. He climbed into his car, shutting the door behind him, where was he going to go? His dealer won't be back till tomorrow afternoon and he'd rather not go to Ezra, knowing Andrea is probably going to go to him. "Fuck." he breathed out, hitting the steering wheel and plopping back in the seat. After little to no thought, Evan finally figured out where he could go and he quickly pulled his phone out, dialing a number he knows by memory. "C'mon, pick up, pick up." he muttered when it started ringing and then Evan heard it, the familiar raspy voice of someone who just woke up. "Hey, it's uh it's Evan." he said, the voice on the other end sounded more alert now. "Listen, mind if I come up and stay with you and Miles for a bit?" he asked and turned on the ignition when he heard the "yes, what the fuck mate of course". His leg was bouncing, "You know if Amelia will be around? Kinda want to buy some stuff off her. Yeah? Tell her I'm coming alright? Should be there in about an hour oh and Alister - don't tell Jamie I'm going over, just - I'll deal with that when I get there." After a few more seconds he hung up, he just sat in his car before pulling out and started his way up to Oxford to play catch up.
Andrea was stuffing the rest of her stuff away when she heard the front door slam shut. She paused, swallowing thickly and waiting to see if she'd hear it open and shut again; when it didn't she slumped over her bag with a sob. She was so pissed off that her nerves were buzzing, and after finally getting the rest of her clothes packed it still wasn't enough to kill off the adrenaline. In a fit she tugged all of his clothes out of their drawers and tossed them all over the room - and she couldn't help but thinking it was entirely stupid - but with every piece of clothing she chucked out of place she felt better. She stripped the bedding and tossed that onto the floor too, grabbing a photo of the two of them she precariously taped to the side of his wardrobe and ripping it to pieces. The library was set in disarray in much the same fashion, the clattering of hardcovers on the floor and pages flipping open and shut calming her anger until she just felt bad and felt the distinct urge to clean it up. So she did - clean up the library at least, her tears finally stopping but by the time she got to the bedroom she felt exhausted enough to start crying again. She'd worn herself out. Whatever. He'll get over it. She grabbed her bag and galloped down the steps, tugging a sticky-note from a pad in the drawer and writing in her messy scrawl; "I restocked your fridge and pantry before you got back yesterday. I made your favorite cupcakes and your favorite ice cream is in the freezer. I left my key in the pot. Also, fuck you." She stuck it onto the fridge, hiking her bag on her shoulder and turning to leave, locking the door behind her and placing the key in the pot as promised.
Puck was dreading this entire night. He was only going to homecoming because he wanted to try to spike the punch like he did every year. Otherwise he would just go to the game and then bail. But they had the homecoming game that late afternoon and the dance would be a few hours after in the school gym, giving everyone time to change into their fancy clothes and show up back at the school refreshed from the game. After Puck scored the winning touchdown for the game, safe to say, he was pretty popular. He just hoped that he didn’t get nominated for homecoming court, much less win. He doubted it, though. People knew better than to even consider him.
He didn’t bother smiling for the photos Judy forced him into. Quinn was beaming in her light blue dress, basically ready for a crown to be placed on her head at any moment. Finn was behind her and Santana was placed strategically in front of himself. She only dragged him along as her date after Brittany decided to go with Sam, who was right behind him giving off what was probably a goofy, big-lipped smile to the camera as Judy snapped a bunch of pictures. He didn’t see why this was all such a big deal. It was just a dance. Quinn couldn’t even be crowned homecoming queen since she was only a junior. Princess, maybe.
“Beautiful, you all look so great!” Judy beamed as she snapped a few more, “Okay, can I get one with just Noah and Quinn? I have to have one for the family scrapbook.” Puck rolled his eyes as everyone scattered away, leaving him and Quinn alone in front of the garage door. His all dark outfit contrasting against her bright blue dress. He eyed her up and down for a moment before stepping a little closer, not wanting to get too close. Even though the smell of her perfume was intoxicating.
When: April 27th, 2015
Where: The Matlin house
Triggers: Death, Alcohol Consumption
Katie hadn’t cleaned out her closet in months. The floor of it was starting to fill up with the clothes that she would pull off her hangers and looked at for a moment before tossing it aside and deeming it unwearable. Most of the things were old soccer shirts promoting some big championship that she was competing in. Things that she hadn’t been able to wear since fourth grade. They could probably be donated to charity. She saw that kind of stuff all the time at Good Will.
She picked up one of the soccer shirts and smiled at what was on the front of it. She couldn’t fit into it anymore but it was the very first t-shirt she had ever gotten that had her name on the back. Felix had teased her about it the entire first day as she wore it around the house. He’d ask her if it was because she was having trouble remembering what her name was. She’d laughed the first few times he asked and then it started to get on her nerves.
She tossed the shirt onto her bed, starting a pile of things that could be donated to the less fortunate. There was no reason that someone couldn’t get good use out of these clothes when she wasn’t even using them anymore. She couldn’t wear them, but there were others out there that could.
Sorting through the clothes had taken her longer than she had thought it would and after almost twenty minutes of sitting on the floor and deciding what could and couldn’t be donated, she came across a hoodie that she recognized all too well. She hadn’t even remembered taking it, but there it was. The light grey fabric still had a grass stain on the sleeve from a game of football that had ended a little too violently.
The hoodie had belonged to Felix once upon a time, and Katie picked it up gently, almost as if the fabric would fall apart if she held it too tightly. She didn’t want that to happen. It didn’t smell like his cologne anymore. Mostly it just smelled like the laundry detergent that their mother used. Still, a lump grew in her throat. Felix used to complain about the way she would steal his hoodies and wear them around. They were usually returned to him with foundation on the sleeve and smelling like girly perfume. He claimed to hate it, but she knew that he left them on the dresser so she knew he wasn’t going to wear it anytime soon, and she could take it if she wanted it.
That was the kind of brother that he had been. Her best friend, her protector, and her biggest supporter. She stayed silent as she pulled the hoodie over her head and slid her hands into the pocket. She sat on the floor, legs crossed, and stared at the carpet. Her mind was both blank and racing, if that were even possible. She stayed still. In this moment, she almost felt like she could feel her brother in the room with her, and that was all the comfort she needed.
Stiles looked back on a time when he could stay in bed and sleep all day, because those days were long gone now Lily was in the house. She was good at getting her parents up at the crack of dawn and needing to be entertained.
She was lucky she was so cute.
At six, almost seven months, she was starting to make noises, trying to roll over and attempt to crawl. Even when Stiles and Allison were exhausted, she was an endless source of entertainment.
It was around 10am on a Saturday. Scott and Kira were supposed to come over sometime. They had finally made the decision to move to the same town after spending so much time with Stiles and Allison. They were living nearer town so Kira didn’t have to drive very far to work, and Scott was in the gas station as well after Stiles hired him.
He was sat in front of the playmat as Lily played and chewed on one of her many toys that she had nowadays,
“Lily! Can you say ‘dada’?” Stiles attempted to get her babbling, but she wasn’t interested. He sighed loudly and threw back his head against the seat of the sofa, “Useless child. We’re going to have to take her back, she’s clearly broken. We need a refund,” he joked to Allison as she made breakfast in the kitchen.
TAGGING → Parker Wilde
TIME FRAME → November 29, 2014.
LOCATION → The villain dorms, outside Shade's room.
NOTES → As her frustration and lack of sleep take over, Parker finds herself once again attempting to gain access to Shade's dorm resulting in her new found powers to cause a huge mess.
Parker’s head rested against her knees as she feebly knocked on the bottom of the door, hoping against hope that Shade might answer the call this time but felt like there was slim chance of that happening. Ever since the fiasco at Thanksgiving, Shade had been holed up in their room refusing to see or even talk to her.
She got it.
Death Perception had been a part of her world for years now and Parker still remembered the shock of being immersed into a world where everyone had an expiration date. How she would look at Carolyn and see that her sister wasn’t going to live past her forties; how that was the moment that she had started babying her more than was probably necessary. Or the way that she could see that her father only had about ten years to go, while her wicked witch of a mother was probably going to die of old age. Even at the Academy, Parker had to deal with knowing which of her friends was going to live the longest and which was going to live a pretty short life.
It was a tough life, knowing when people were suddenly going to be gone. The revelation had made her do the exact same thing that Shade was doing presently.
Understanding what he was going through didn’t make it any easier though. She hated being the only one who could emphasize with what he was going through but being one of the main people that he currently didn’t want to see.
Lack of sleep wasn’t helping her rationalize it either. Instead, the drowsiness was making her angry and upset, made worse by the fact that Sofia’s power allowed her to feel all of the moisture in the humid New Jersey air. The pressure was crushing against her chest and it made Parker feel antsy and claustrophobic, as though any moment she could have a panic attack right there in the middle of the villain’s hallway.
Once more, Parker slammed her palm against the door, this time a violent action born out of frustration than actual want for the door to open. She could feel that same pressure building, heavy and thick and seeming to come from the air and the walks themselves. A hissing could be heard nearby; Parker thought for a moment that it was just her irrational anger taking over but then there was the sound of metal splitting loudly down the entire length of the hallway, followed by the sound of rushing water.
