trancer21: (Bitchslap I Hel Hot)
[personal profile] trancer21
Okay, I am *not* obsessed with girl!peen. Honestly! Okay, maybe a little, or maybe it's just the fact that crossing over with the Hollows makes it so much easier to explain why a girl suddenly has a penis!

Title: All She Wants
Fandom: Glee/The Hollows
Pairing: Rachel Morgan-Berry/Quinn Ivy Fabray, mentions of Rachel/Jesse
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Crack, PWP, Girl!Peen Quinn, Pushy Bottom Rachel
Word Count: 5262
Summary: It’s been three months since they’ve seen each other. Since Quinn joined the IS and Rachel stayed in college. But, what Rachel wants. Rachel gets.
Disclaimer: "Glee," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Ryan Murphy Productions, and 20th Century Fox Entertainment. The Hollows series and its characters are the property of Kim Harrison, and Harper Collins Publishers. This piece of fan fiction was created for fun and not profit.
A/N: Another in the "Tainted Love" universe but, if you haven‘t read that fic here‘s all you need to know - Rachel‘s a witch and Quinn‘s a vampire.


Quinn stood in the center of Rachel’s dorm room, in her black low-riding leather pants and nothing else. She’d maneuvered Rachel’s full length mirror into the perfect position. Where it sat upright on the floor and leaned against a chair. Standing in the center of the room, Quinn placed her hands on her head, staring at her reflection. The scent of incense and ozone from the broken spell stick tickled her nostrils. Her body still tingled from the transformation.

The transformation.

One of the benefits of having a witch for a sometimes girlfriend. It’s not that Quinn didn’t like being a girl, oh no, Quinn *loved* being a girl. Just a girl who liked to accessorize every now and then. She moved the hands on her head, let them roam downwards, stopping at her breasts, where she circled the areolas with her fingertips. One of her better features, Quinn had to admit with a tilt of her head. A little smaller than she’d like but Rachel had a spell for that too. Rachel always had a spell.

With forefingers and thumbs, Quinn tweaked her nipples, rolling and twisting until they hardened at her touch. She squeezed a little harder, stomach clenching, and Quinn let the pain arc pleasurably through her, widening her irises, fangs threatening to extend, a hard twitching in her groin. Quinn released her right hand from her breast, watched it trail down the smooth, softly muscular plain of her stomach. Cupping her groin, her mouth went slack at the warmth of her palm seeping through the leather, meeting the pulse of her newly transformed genitals.

The spell was a reflection of both Quinn and Rachel’s tastes, and met somewhere in the middle. Rachel preferred length, while Quinn preferred girth. Her cock was both without being too much of either. And Quinn shifted her hips, leather creaking to accommodate the sudden pulsing swelling. She traced her fingers around the shaft through the leather, sighing contentedly at the feel, the anticipation because Rachel would be there soon.

Just not soon enough.

Another pinch of her nipple, another groan and Quinn slid her fingers to the waistband then slid them between skin and leather. Rolling her hips, watching her hand in the mirror as she slowly jacked herself off.


One more week, one more goddamned week and it would be Spring Break. It was all Rachel could think about as she hurried down the hallway of the dormitory. Sure, Spring Break would be spent in Lima instead of Fort Lauderdale or some other place with a beach, bad dance music played loudly where she over consumed cheap beer while wearing a skimpy bikini and the embarrassing pics or, worse, videos that would end up on Facebook.

Freshman Fever had lasted a little longer than Rachel either anticipated or wanted. It’s not like no one had *ever* been kicked out of Julliard before, just no one had done it so spectacularly or publicly. Two years later and they were *still* talking about that particular performance of ‘Oklahoma’, still rebuilding the parts of the building that had exploded. It wasn’t Rachel’s fault. Not really. Okay, it had been her spell. It wasn’t her fault she was the first witch to pledge the sorority in seventeen years. Or that they’d asked her to do something spectacularly stupid and Rachel, wanting nothing more than to be accepted, accommodated.

Not quite expelled, more like ‘quietly transferred’ and Rachel found herself back in Ohio, going to Ohio State (to the delight of both her Dad’s). It was never quite explained why the Buckeyes were so eager to accept Rachel, even though she’d heard the rumors that a certain master vampire had made a considerable donation to the school on her behalf.

Either way, it all felt like a huge step backwards for Rachel. Fifteen steps back from pursuing her dream, even if she was one step closer to..

“Quinn!” Rachel yelped, slamming the door behind her.

One hand on her breast, the other still deep in her leather slacks, Quinn turned her head languidly to gaze over her shoulder. “Hey Rachel.”

“What are you.. Why are you..” She took two steps forward, slamming her books on the bed. Head tilting curiously, her eyes narrowed. “You cut your hair.”

“You like it?” Quinn smiled, shaking her head.

What was not to like? Different, sure, but in a good way. No longer ending at the middle of her back, the ends brushed back and forth just above her shoulders. It made Quinn look a little more adult, a little more wild, dangerous, sexy dangerous. “I..” Rachel was about to compliment the new cut when her eyes caught Quinn’s full reflection in the mirror, when she saw what Quinn was doing with her *other* hand. “Dammit, Quinn! That was the last one!”

“So?” Quinn shrugged. “You can make more.”

“Orchids won’t be in season for another two months! Seriously, Quinn?” Rachel flopped stomach down hard on the mattress. “You couldn’t wait one more week?”

“Rachel?” Quinn turned, hard cock flag-poling in her leather pants, swollen tip peaking out the top. “How long does the spell last?”

Hard as she tried, Rachel couldn’t help licking her lips. She’d used just a hair’s breath too much stemen this time. It really did look like Quinn had stuffed a penis-shaped kielbasa down her pants.

“Rachel?” Quinn smirked, eyebrow rising coyly.

Blush coloring her cheeks, Rachel shook her head then began arranging the books around her. “Twenty-three days.”

“Twenty-three days?” Quinn purred, one hand popping the top button of her pants as the other worked the zipper. “Spring Break’s only for seven days. What am I supposed to do the other sixteen?”

“That’s your problem,” Rachel huffed, grabbing a pen and opening her notebook. “You weren’t supposed to be here until Friday.”

But, that was Quinn. Sometimes, Rachel would see her every other day. Sometimes, Rachel would neither see nor hear from Quinn for weeks.

It’d been that way since they graduated McKinley. High school had been intense. Their relationship, both together and apart, had been intense. Then came the summer after graduation and the realization that even though they were together, the paths before them split apart. Rachel chose to go to college. Quinn didn’t. Quinn really didn’t need to go to college. She was already rich, already the heir to one fortune and potential (read: probable) successor to the camarilla. Instead, Quinn chose neither.

She followed Rachel to New York. For five months, Quinn lived the bohemian life in a one-room studio, with intermittent electricity, fifth-hand furniture and enough cash to keep the cupboards barely stocked with ramen noodles. While Rachel went to college, Quinn slept through the day, partied all night and played girlfriend to Rachel during the sporadic moments of sobriety in between.

Until the day Quinn disappeared. Oh, there was a note, hand-written and barely intelligible. There were tears, mostly on Rachel’s part because Quinn was already gone. But Rachel didn’t cry for too long or too hard. She knew and understood this was something Quinn needed to do. Rachel worried about Quinn, just not *for* Quinn. When the worry became too much, Rachel used her second-sight, saw the strands of her aura reaching outwards and the red-gold strands of Quinn’s aura reaching for Rachel. Separated but still connected. And should the need arise, Rachel would follow the trail of Quinn’s aura into the Ever-after.

Almost a year later, after Rachel’s disastrous year at Julliard, having already transferred to Ohio State, Quinn returned. Thin and gaunt, with dark circles under her eyes and bite marks, well, everywhere, Quinn returned. But, there was no sadness or fear or regret in Quinn’s eyes, but a zen-like acceptance. Whatever she’d been searching for, she’d found it, at least, most of it. Quinn returned to Ohio from wherever she’d been and..

Joined the I.S - Inderlander Security.

Contrary to both Quinn’s father and Rynn Cormel, Rachel had no protestations. It was like dating a spy. Okay, a spy that worked in the mailroom, assigned the dangerous and deadly task of fixing coffee and changing printer cartridges but, hey, every girl has her fantasy’s. At least now, Rachel had tangible reasons for Quinn’s absences.

Even if that meant, right now, Quinn was a week early, ruining the last of Rachel’s spell.

Rachel grabbed the closest text book, spreading it open before her, hurriedly scribbling in her notebook.

“Rachel?” Quinn groan-sighed, pulling not so gently on her shaft. “You’re mad.”

“I’m not mad.” Rachel flipped a page in her textbook, angrily but not angrily. “I’d already made plans for us. For Spring Break. It’s not Spring Break yet, and I have to study. You..” She flipped another page. “Can do what you want. You always do.”

Silence. Which almost made things worse because when Quinn went silent, things had a tendency to happen afterwards. Good things. Bad things. Good bad things. And the silence was enough to make Rachel lift her eyes, then stifle the shudder reverberating through her body at the sight of her sometimes but not right now girlfriend. Quinn stared down at her, wearing nothing but her leather pants and a lascivious smile, rocking out with her cock out.

“Don’t worry,” Quinn purred, circling around to the other side of the bed. “What I plan to do? Requires you to do nothing.”

“Quinn..” Rachel whispered, her protest catching in the back of her throat as she felt the bed dip. Felt Quinn crawling over her, straddling her legs just above the knees. Quinn’s hands on her thighs and sliding upwards, under her skirt, fingertips curling around the waistband of her panties. “I have to study.”

“So study. You study.. Whatever it is you‘re studying and I‘ll..” Rachel shifted her hips and Quinn used the opportunity to slide Rachel’s panties down her hips, tangling at her knees. “Study your anatomy.”

Rachel sighed. She really did have to study. Which would be rather difficult with hot, horny and ready to go vampire in the room. “Quinn.”

And then there was the warmth of Quinn’s body, hovering over Rachel. Lips and warm heated breath against her ear. “Say the word,” Quinn husked, hand sliding down the crack of Rachel’s ass, a single finger teasingly sliding down the line of her pussy. “And I’ll stop.”

Then Quinn curled her finger, the tip sliding between the lips of Rachel’s pussy, brushing against her clit. Rachel, already warm and wet, hips arching backwards, twitched at the contact. Quinn slowly wriggled her finger. “Do you want me to stop?”

Lower lip curling between her teeth, Rachel shook her head. She could always study later. It’s not like she wasn’t the smartest girl in her class. And Quinn was always very good with her hands.

“I saw Jesse St. James earlier,” Quinn said almost nonchalantly, despite the hand between Rachel’s legs and the finger rubbing up against her clit. She pressed her weight down, leaned her lips closer to Rachel’s ear, growling, “Did you fuck him?”

“I saw Santana the other day,” Rachel groaned back. “Did you fuck her?”

The downside of being together but not really, the lack of exclusivity and the petty jealousies that followed. Quinn and Santana hadn’t been serious since high school. Rachel and Jesse, on the other hand, Rachel was as inexorably connected to Jesse St. James as she was to Quinn. Jesse played that connection like a master fiddler.

“I can smell him all over you,” Quinn growled, pushing up to the first knuckle into Rachel.

“It’s not what you think,” Rachel hissed through her teeth. If Jesse could push Rachel’s buttons, Quinn pushed the ones Jesse had never heard of. “We were rehearsing.”

“Oh, so you *had* do it.”

“Something like that.”

“You had to touch him.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Rachel nodded her head, swallowing hard. Quinn knew just how to tease, no, torment Rachel. With just a finger, just the first knuckle pushed slowly in and out.

“You had to kiss him.”

“It.. It wouldn’t be Romeo and Juliet without a kiss.” Of course, Rachel left out the part where Jesse wasn’t even going to Ohio State, or that the Ohio State drama department wasn’t even performing Romeo and Juliet this year. But, somehow, Rachel figured Quinn already knew those particularly minute details.

“And when he pressed his body against you..” Quinn removed her finger, Rachel whimpering at the loss. Shifting, straddling Rachel’s thighs, Quinn wrapped her fingers around her cock, slipped it into the tight opening where Rachel’s thighs pressed together, pushed her hips forward, both groaning as the tip of Quinn’s cock pressed against the opening of Rachel’s pussy. “And you felt his cock, hard and wanting, in his jeans..”

“I didn’t fuck him!”

“You mean..” Quinn pushed her hips a little harder, mouth going slack as resistance gave way to penetration. “This time.”

“No.. Yes..” Head bowing, Rachel curled the sheets into tightly balled fists. “Dammit, Quinn! Could you at least put on a condom? I don‘t want my skirt ruined.”

Quinn leaned down, sliding in just a little more. “You like it when I ruin your skirts.” She pulled back with her hips, withdrawing until just the tip remained inside Rachel. “Who have you been fucking?”

“No one. The last person I fucked was you!” There, she said it. It wasn’t her fault, dammit! And why should she be the only one held accountable for what happened during that year Quinn was gone? It’s not like Quinn had been very forthcoming over what, and who, she did during that time. But, everyone knew what Rachel had done. Some, Santana, more than gleefully spilled the details.

There’d been boys - Jesse, Finn, Puck, and the ones Quinn had never met. There’d been the girls - Brittany, Mercedes. The backstage romance at Julliard with her rival that Rachel ended because it was getting all ‘Black Swan’ kinds of weird.

Rachel wasn’t a slut. She WAS NOT a slut, just a young, attractive (and supremely talented) witch with a healthy libido. And Rachel refused to feel guilty for what she did with her libido because Quinn decided to go walkabout for a year, or chose a job that kept them apart for arbitrarily random amounts of time.

It didn’t change the fact that, sometimes, Rachel missed Quinn. Missed her so much, it felt like her entire soul ached. That all the ones before, during and after, would always be compared to Quinn, and come up lacking.

“You haven’t fucked in three months?” Quinn panted heavily and Rachel could practically see Quinn’s fangs extending, eyelids fluttering as the irises turned black. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve fucked anyone?” Rachel shook her head and Quinn leaned in, pressing her lips to the shell of Rachel’s ear, the edges of her hair tickling Rachel‘s neck. “Three months.”

Rachel groaned, shuddering, pussy clenching around the tip buried within her, wanting it, needing it. So bad. And it made it all the better knowing Quinn wanted it to, had waited for it. This. Rachel.

“Tell me what you want,” Quinn husked. “Tell me how bad you want it.”

With a hand, Rachel reached up, wrapping her hand around the side of Quinn’s neck, fingers at the base of her scalp, tightening, scraping. “Fuck me, Ivy,” Rachel breathed, feeling Quinn shudder, knowing how much she loved it when Rachel called her by her real name. “I want you to fuck me.”

Quinn growled, low and throaty, pushing her hips. Not too fast, not too slow. “Oh fu..” she grunted, head spinning because she’d almost forgotten how tight Rachel was, how perfectly they seemed to just.. fit. And then it was Quinn’s favorite part, the friction, the way Rachel just mewled and whimpered with each thrust, writhing beneath her, hips rolling, meeting Quinn thrust for thrust.

The pace quickened, mattress rolling, headboard softly smacking against the wall. The tension between them building, auras combining, merging, becoming one in the way only the two of them could. And then..

Quinn froze, every muscle in her body straining, strangled cry gargling in the back of her throat.

Rachel purred, giggled at Quinn’s forgetfulness. Witches were different than humans, werewolves, vampires and all the rest. Not much, but enough where it counted the most. Quinn thrust and Rachel clamped her vaginal walls around the cock buried within her. Hard. With an almost vice-like grip and Quinn was trapped, unable to thrust, or withdraw, or come.

“Rachel..” Quinn panted heavily. “Wha..”

“Ivy,” Rachel paused at Quinn’s sudden shudder, inhaling a deep calming breath because, God, did it feel *really* good. Hand still clamped around the back of Quinn’s head, Rachel pulled Quinn closer, until opened lips were at the pulse point of her neck, razor sharp fangs deliciously close.

“I want you to bite me.” She felt Quinn stiffen with fear. It’d been years since Quinn had bitten Rachel, not since high school. And while Quinn may have not bitten Rachel, Quinn had bitten others. In the time away, Quinn had learned control. She still hadn’t mastered trust, trust in herself. “I want you to fuck me, and when you come inside me, I want you to bite me. But,” Rachel paused, clenching a little harder, Quinn shivering. “We need to sort a few things out first.”

“Now!?!” Quinn’s muffled voice mumbled into Rachel’s neck. “Seriously!?!”

“Yes, now. See..” Rachel smiled at having Quinn’s full and unadulterated attention. “There are these things called mobile devices. I know you have one because I have your number programmed into mine. And when I’m all alone and horny and missing my girlfriend because she’s god knows where, for god only knows how long..” Rachel shifted, languidly rolling her hips in a deep arcing circle. “I want to know my girlfriend misses me as much as I miss her. Because, if my girlfriend can‘t call, although I have no idea why, these mobile devices have all these wonderful little features like texting, email, voice mail, video. I certainly wouldn‘t fuck someone who never called or texted or wrote me. I certainly wouldn‘t let that person bite me.” Hands in Quinn’s hair, Rachel tightened her grip. “Do we understand each other?”

“Rachel..” Quinn whimpered, her entire body trembling from the strain of her muscles. She had no idea how long Rachel could maintain her hold. Quinn had no interest in finding out. She nodded. “I understand.”

“Good,” Rachel giggled, releasing her hand and joining it with the other curling around the edge of the mattress. She was going to need to hold on. A deep inhale, Rachel relaxed her vaginal muscles, shivering at Quinn’s very loud, very deep growl. Hands, palm flat, planted on either side of Rachel, just beneath her arm pits and Quinn pushed. And pushed and pushed. The pace quick and hard and almost frantic, Rachel doing that whelp/whimper thing with each thrust.

The tension was there almost from the start. The tightness deep in her gut, that seemed to ratchet even tighter with every push of her hips. Rachel warm and wet and tight like a glove around her, and Quinn could have done this forever, just fucking Rachel if it weren’t for that damned need for release.

“Rachel..” Quinn groaned, wanting to hold back just a little longer. “Fuck..”

“Ivy,” Rachel whimpered. “I.. I lov..”

Quinn knew what she was about to say. Before Rachel could get the words out, Quinn snaked her hand between Rachel’s stomach and the mattress. Reached down deep, mashing her fingers against Rachel’s clit. Rachel keened, body convulsing and jerking chaotically, walls clamping again around Quinn’s cock. Quinn buried her face in the crook of Rachel’s neck, opened mouth and exposed fangs, as the tension within her reached the precipice, she sank her teeth into Rachel’s neck.

Like a wire hanger jammed into an electrical socket, the rush was immediate. Intense. Electric. The integral part of her, inside Rachel, the pull, the feel of Rachel’s life force in her mouth, taste and texture. Her seed spilling outwards as the blood flowed inwards, Quinn didn’t just orgasm, she felt like she *was* an orgasm, all convulsing muscles, boiling blood and melting organs. Death and rebirth all at once. Loss of control and the complete mastering of it.

Eyelids still fluttering, eyes still rolling in the back of her head, Quinn released her hold on Rachel’s neck. She’d taken what she needed to take. Had learned to stop when she needed to. Head thrown back, she inhaled a hard suck of air before collapsing atop the woman beneath her.

A boneless mass of quivering and trembling flesh, labored breathing and thundering hearts, they stayed like this for what felt an eternity. Rachel groaned at the feel of Quinn’s mouth on her neck, tongue lapping the tiny wounds clean. Who knew how long the saliva would stay in her system this time. All Rachel knew was she missed that particular connection between them. Even if it left her both claimed and unclaimed.

Quinn rolled off, flopping onto her back and throwing a forearm over her eyes. It’d definitely been worth the wait. Even if there were ‘strings’ involved. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

Rachel lifted onto her elbows, then rolled onto her side, propping her head up with a hand, resting the other on Quinn’s stomach. “Mmm-hmm,” she purred, nodding her head.

“I was wondering why you made the spell for more than a week,” Quinn panted softly. Pulling the arm off her face, she turned her gaze to Rachel. “How long have you known I was in town?”

“I always know when you’re close, Quinn,” Rachel smiled, sliding the hand on Quinn’s stomach down, fingertips lightly grazing across the surface of her semi-hard shaft. “And I knew you wouldn’t wait until Spring Break.”

“Speaking of Spring Break..” Quinn lifted, rolling onto her stomach and sliding her shoulders over the edge of the mattress, searching through the pile of clothes by the bed. She pulled out an envelope buried deep in a pocket, handing it to Rachel. “Here.”

“What’s this?” Rachel said, already kid on Christmas smiling.

“Reservations for two to a private island in the Caribbean.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “For seven whole days.”

“Quinn..” Rachel gasped. Quinn rarely touched her inheritance. Would rather chew nails or walk over broken glass, and spent the last three years doing anything and everything to keep from even thinking of touching it. To actually spend a fraction of it, on Rachel of all people, and Rachel could feel the lump building in her throat, salt suddenly stinging the corners of her eyes. “I.. I can’t..”

“You can and you will. We will,” Quinn purred. She leaned into Rachel, brushing their lips together. “Seven days of nothing but sun, sand, clear blue ocean and nothing else.” She pulled back just a little, eyes all hazel and sincere. “I’ve missed you, Rachel. Let me show you how much.”

“I think you just did,” Rachel smirked. She looked at the envelope in her hand then back at Quinn. “And I’ve never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.”

With vamp speed and strength, Quinn pushed at Rachel’s shoulder, Rachel flopping onto her back, then quickly straddled Rachel’s hips, her hands wrapping around Rachel’s wrists and pinning them to the mattress. “Speaking of your mouth,” Quinn leered then dove in for a kiss. “Three months is a *very* long time and Steve McQueen..”

“I really do have to study.”

“You don’t have to use your mouth to study.”

“Quinn,” Rachel stated flatly. “Me and Steve McQueen have twenty-three days to get reacquainted, seven with just the two of us. I think you can wait a little longer.”

Quinn pouted, all wounded puppy like. “Fine. Study,” Quinn huffed, clambering off Rachel before flopping onto her back. “I’ll just.. entertain myself.”

Rachel tried to study. She really did. But it was hard with her ruined skirt and sticky thighs, which all the baby wipes in the world couldn‘t completely clean and meant more time wasted taking a shower. A shower she started alone then found herself quickly joined by Quinn. Then it was all roaming and soapy hands, shower wet kisses and echoing moans so loud Rachel was pretty certain the entire *floor* knew what she was up to. And Quinn didn’t stop until long after the water turned cold, when she had to hold Rachel up because Rachel’s knees had gone weak.

Studying didn’t get any easier once they were back in Rachel’s dorm room. It was hard (no pun intended) with five feet, six inches of still horny and naked vampire lying next to her, all moaning and writhing, playing with herself like it was her *job* the moment sex with Rachel stopped being an option. Rachel couldn’t help hearing, Quinn’s little grunts and growls and panted mewls. Rachel couldn’t help watching, glancing through the corner of her eye, the way Quinn’s eyes were closed, the parted lips, the hand on her breast tweaking a nipple, the other wrapped around her cock and stroking languidly, drawing the pleasure out, making it last.

“Okay! Fine!” Rachel slammed her pen down. “If I take the wheel and drive Steve McQueen around, will you leave me alone long enough so I can study?”

“Baby,” Quinn purred, grinning ear to ear, sliding both hands behind her head as Rachel crawled over her. “You know how I love to sleep while you drive.”

Rachel didn’t get much studying done, or sleep. She did do Quinn. Repeatedly. Which was why she missed her first class the next morning, and was late to the one after that.

She did ace her tests. The week finally ended and she was on a plane to the Caribbean. Where there was nothing but sun, surf, blue oceans and..


They weren’t girlfriends. Again. Not really. They were and they weren’t, it was just how things were between them. All that mattered was they were together. Rachel had learned to relish the time between them, even if she’d had to resort to less than chivalrous methods. A little white lie but a lie nonetheless. It hadn’t been Rachel’s last spell stick, for that particular spell anyway. But, the spell was like vamp candy to Quinn and Rachel knew Quinn’s predilection for not arriving when she was supposed to (a vamp thing, a need to keep people off guard). And if Rachel had to resort to less than chivalrous methods to get what she wanted? Like, having an honest heart-to-heart talk with her sometimes but mostly not girlfriend.

A dick on her sometimes but mostly not girlfriend for a couple days, okay - twenty-three, seemed a small price to pay. Especially for time spent lying on a blanket under a shade tree with Quinn, wearing nothing but their birthday suits (they hadn’t worn clothes since Tuesday), smelling like coconut oil, sex and sea salt.

Rachel sighed, not quite as contentedly as she’d thought she would. It was their last day in the Caribbean and Rachel had quickly gotten used to this - sun, sand, surf and just the two of them. She didn’t want to go back. Not yet, anyway, and deal with all the complications of life put on hold while she was away. She didn’t want to deal with life with and without Quinn. Because, she knew, they would return and, eventually, Quinn would disappear. Again.

Head against Quinn’s shoulder, Rachel nuzzled herself closer. “Ivy?”

“Mmm,” half-asleep, Quinn mumbled.

Rachel lifted her head, chin resting on Quinn’s collarbone. “Do you love me?”

Quinn stiffened, eyes snapping open. She turned her head to Rachel. “What makes you think I don’t?”

“Because you never say it. You,” she paused, eyes glancing about nervously. “Never let me say it. Why?”

“Maybe..” Lips pursing, Quinn moved her gaze to stare upwards. “Because you deserve to be fated with someone better than me.”

The words dropped like a lead balloon from the sky, silencing everything around them. Quinn’s greatest fear laid out in the open. One day she would die, her body would live on and what remained would be a hollow, soulless shell. She couldn’t do that to Rachel. And Rachel saw the resolve in Quinn’s eyes, Quinn *wouldn’t* do that to Rachel.

“Ivy,” Rachel whispered softly. Fingertips drawn to Quinn’s chin, she tilted Quinn’s head until their eyes met. “Ivy. I love you..”


“Ivy..” Her voice strong and stern, Quinn’s name spoken as a command. Rachel drifted the fingers holding chin’s chin downwards, sliding her leg over Quinn’s thigh as her hand cupped Quinn’s cock. “Look at me, Ivy.”

Rachel shifted her body, rising until her legs straddled Quinn’s thighs. And Quinn’s mouth went slack at the sudden feeling of her cock throbbing to life, at the slow gyration of Rachel’s hips.

“I’m going to say it,” Rachel clipped, almost angrily. “I’m going to mean it and you’re going to hear it. I *will* find a way for you to keep your soul. You know why?” She waited for Quinn to shake her head. “Because I love you, Quinn Ivy Fabray. Because I will do anything for you. If I have to walk through the bowels of Hell, if I have to tear Heaven apart with my bare hands, if I have to paint my aura with enough smut to blacken the skies..”

“Rachel..” Quinn’s eyes widened.

“Ivy!” Rachel snapped back. She squeezed her hand, Quinn grunting, eyes fluttering as the irises turned black, fangs extending like a shot. “See these marks on my neck?” Rachel growled. It didn’t sound as sexy as when Quinn did it, but it worked. “You know what these marks mean? They don’t mean I’m yours. They mean..” She lifted her hips, guiding Quinn’s cock between her legs, tip pressed to her opening then slid down. “You’re mine,” she groaned, immediately rolling her hips. “I protect what’s mine. Now that you’re mine, I’m not letting you go. And you’re not leaving. Do we understand each other?”

Quinn nodded hurriedly.

“Good,” Rachel smiled then leaned down, chest to chest, lips against the shell of Quinn‘s ear. “Now, Quinn Ivy Fabray, fuck me like you want me. Fuck me like you love me.”

This time, Quinn growled and it sounded much sexy than any of Rachel’s attempts. Quinn growled and then Rachel was on her back, immediately flipped over, pulled onto hands and knees. It was fast and hard and deep, Quinn grunting, Rachel keening, yelping with every deep push. It was good they were alone on a tiny island in the Caribbean because Rachel was pretty sure they could be heard all the way in Ohio.

Quinn came first, one final thrust, mouth clamping onto Rachel’s neck, teeth digging into the flesh and pulling. Rachel quickly followed, feral wail erupting from her throat as lightning coursed through her body.

Later, both still warm and tingling in the afterglow, Quinn slowly withdrew, a soft smile curling her lips at Rachel’s mewled protest. She gently rolled Rachel over, brought their lips together. The kiss soft and slow and passionate. When the kiss broke and Rachel could still feel Quinn’s lips hovering close to hers, she opened her eyes to see Quinn gazing down at her.

“I love you, Rachel Morgan-Berry.”

The smile on Rachel’s lips could have lit up a thousand Broadway’s. All she wanted. All she needed. And now..

Rachel had it.

Hands reaching up, threading into Quinn’s hair, she brought their lips back together.

“I love you, too.”

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