Title: Radiant Flux
Author: Frensayce
Rating: R/NC-17
Word Count: 5,323
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn
Spoilers: None, AU
Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor Marvel Comics.
Summary: Glee/X-Men crossover. Sequel to Luminous Flux. Rachel's a telepath.
A/N:Unbeta'd.

This was ridiculous. This article was just stupid. Whichever bozo down at Cosmo thought Help! I Married A Mutant! was a good topic was sorely mistaken. And really prejudiced. Lying on her stomach on the obnoxiously bright comforter, knees bent and bare feet in the air, Quinn flipped through the magazine's glossy pages hard enough to rip them. She couldn't believe the editor actually published it. Marrying or dating someone who happened to be a mutant wasn't the terrible thing everyone made it out to be. It was hard, sure: people could be cruel, and mutant-phobia ran rampant, especially in good ol' Lima, Ohio. Hell, people all over the world were speaking out against the mutant population — although, Europe did seem to be way more progressive than here in the US — and it was driving Quinn up the damn wall. She was tired of hearing about the discrimination and sometimes all out persecution against them.

She really didn't see what was so bad about being super human. Come on, depending on the special power the person possessed, things could be freaking amazing. Especially in the bedroom. Think about it, some people could duplicate themselves; that's like a monogamous threesome waiting to happen. Or that re-generation type power. Didn't that mean that there was a constant resurgence of energy, or something? That'd have to lead to some impressive stamina. And she was sure that invisibility meant there were serious possibilities for public sex. She wondered what it'd be like to be invisible. No one would see her following Rachel into the choir room during lunch, and they'd be none the wiser if Rachel "magically" achieved the G6 above "Defying Gravity's" high F during glee rehearsal. They'd just think her range improved. Dramatically.

Smirking, Quinn tossed the magazine to the floor and rested her head on her forearms, eyes closed. Dating Rachel was pretty awesome. She was sweet and surprisingly funny in a dorky sort of way. She was attentive, sometimes to the point of being smothering, but Quinn didn't mind it so much. It made her feel wanted and cared for. The animal calendars were a bit weird, but it was sort of heartwarming to see that Rachel scheduled in every football game and division cheerleading competition. Besides, Quinn liked dolphins. Things were nice. And mostly safe so far. People were so consumed by the "mutant problem" that the fact that they're girls didn't attract much as attention as she originally thought it would, thank God. As long as no one found out Rachel was a little genetically different from other humans, or kind of not really a member of Homo sapiens at all, they were in the clear and could date freely. Which was definitely good because Quinn had no intention of stopping.

However, dating Rachel Berry was frustrating as hell. Because being in a relationship didn't necessarily mean she was getting massive amounts of lovin' Since that day in the choir room they hadn't gone farther than second base because they (read: Rachel, without explanation) decided to "slow things down".

Translation: No sex.

Whenever Quinn initiated anything more than making out and maybe some groping, it never went anywhere. Rachel always brought things to an abrupt end. Every time. For the last seven weeks. That was almost two months. Two. Months. It was insane. Suffice to say, Quinn was tense and at the end of her rapidly fraying rope. Which suuuuuccckkeddd. Because the best way Quinn knew how to deal with stress and anxiety was sex, or rather, orgasms. Thankfully, she'd spent the six months prior to dating Rachel racking up enough fantasies to fuel her one-woman shows each night the brunette left her high and not at all dry. Those made it a little easier to deal with her girlfriend not putting out. Her girlfriend. Never in a million years would she have thought she'd not only have a girlfriend, but that it'd be Rachel Berry, future Broadway starlet and leading lady in all of Quinn's criminally explicit fantasies.

The tiniest of smiles tugged at the corners of her mouth before it transformed into a full on grin as she turned her head to the side, expecting to see the beautiful, studious singer at her desk doing physics homework. Instead she was met with an angry glare.

"Hey, baby," she tentatively began. "Almost done?"

"Don't you 'hey baby' me, Fabray. You have ten seconds to explain."

Aaaaand there it was: the downside of having a telepath for a girlfriend was that she could read your mind. Literally. It was helpful when Quinn had all those repressed feelings she had no idea how to put into words, but man did it blow when she was off in her own world. Mashing her lips over her teeth, the blonde closed her eyes, thinking up a response that wouldn't piss Rachel off. Although, that act in and of itself was probably pissing the girl off if she were already parading around Quinn's mind. Wait a minute.

"Wait a minute, you're not supposed to be in my head without permission. Wasn't that part of your Power Point on 'establishing a strong, firm foundation upon which to build trust in our budding love affair'?" she asked. "Because I'm pretty sure it was slide three."

Rachel stood and crossed her arms over her middle, inadvertently pushing her breasts higher. Quinn licked her lips as a bit of cleavage peeked out from behind two undone buttons of the brunette's shirt. She got lost in wondering exactly what it'd be like to run her tongue down the valley of those perfect breasts and barely registered the diva was speaking.

"While I'm pleasantly surprised that you paid attention to my presentation to the point of quoting it verbatim, evidently it is still necessary to remind you that when your thoughts become too loud, I can't help but overhear all about how disappointed you are in me as a girlfriend!"

The blonde immediately pushed off her stomach and sat up on the bed. "What are you talking about?" Seriously, what in the world was Rachel on? "Did you eat a bowl full of crazy this morning?"

"You just don't get it!" Rachel stomped her foot, throwing her arms in the air. She turned away from Quinn and began furiously pacing the floor. "You've no idea how difficult it is being with you sometimes."

It was difficult being with her? Oh, hell no. Quinn jumped to her feet. Was this about to turn into their first serious fight? If so, she was incredibly unprepared and had only an arsenal full of venomous words as opposed to that whole rational discussion thing the shorter girl was teaching her. The surprise attack ingeniously disarmed her, though; maybe she'd rubbed off on Rachel, too. The idea of "rubbing off" on the currently angry young woman sent her mind into a tailspin toward the nearest gutter and she tried to focus on whatever rant was coming her way.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about!" The normally controlled voice turned shrill. "You sit there with all these sexual thoughts flying around your head, and I can't do anything about it!"

Right then. Quinn hoped that breakfast of crazy flakes was at least balanced and nutritious. "I don't understand," she said, calmly. She needed to keep her cool because contrary to their infamous history, Quinn really didn't like fighting with Rachel. Most of the time. "Where is this coming from?"

Rachel flopped down to the bed with a huff. Her eyes were downcast and her shoulders drooped in defeat. "It's hard because," she cleared her throat. "Because I want you. I want you so much and I'm afraid to be with you again — physically."

She may have as well been speaking Thai because Quinn didn't understand a word of that. Rachel seemed like the kind of person who would learn Thai, too, but only to order take out more efficiently.

Brown eyes rolled then stared into her terribly confused hazel. "I…care… about you. Which means I can't help but let my guard down whenever you're around. I'm not constantly listening to your thoughts," she hastily added. "It just means it's difficult to prevent our minds from linking whenever we're intimate." Her voice had lost all fervor and was far too small to belong to a diva such as Rachel Barbra Berry.

Quinn arched her eyebrow. So what if their minds would link up again; big deal. Where in this was the part about her being disappointed in Rachel as a girlfriend?

"When we're together romantically, I have to hold back so I don't hurt you like I did before. It was easier in the beginning of our relationship, but the closer we become emotionally, the higher the risk of me being unable to stop a link from forming while we're together that way. Now we're both sexually frustrated and you're going to leave me and it's all my fault," Rachel looked away, guiltily.

Well, the nationally ranked cheerleader would be adding one more trophy to the already substantial collection gathering dust in her room. She could picture it now: a mangled iron heart cracked down the middle with the caption "World's Worst Girlfriend" inscribed beneath it.

Rachel nipping their sex life in the bud made sense now. Humans aren't built to withstand that kind of mental connection, but good Lord was it worth it, two day migraine and all. She cautiously made her way to stand in front of Rachel and hooked her fingers under the girl's trembling chin, lifting her head until their eyes met. The watery brown orbs nearly broke her heart.

"Okay, first," she held up one finger. "I'm not leaving. Like, ever. And you have full permission to pop into my brain and check if you don't believe that."

It was meant to make Rachel smile, not hit them both in the face with the Two-By-Four of Truth. The bedroom buzzed with quiet tension but Quinn swatted it back, unready to deal with whatever that twist in her stomach meant. Maybe she was getting sick. She hoped not.

"Second: it was only a headache, Rach," she continued, undaunted and tucking a few dark strands of hair behind the shorter girl's ear. The touch continued along a clenched jaw then grazed down the singer's smooth neck to her collarbone. Her skin was so soft. The blonde bit her lip before slowly climbing onto the bed to straddle Rachel's lap. Instinctively, small but strong hands gripped her waist and kept her balanced as she settled and clasped her hands at the back of the brunette's neck. "It really wasn't that bad."

"Liar," the sulking telepath accused, with the slightest hint of mirth.

Quinn rolled her eyes; she'd basically given Rachel an all access pass to snoop around, hadn't she?

"All right, it was bad." Bad enough to make her nauseous every time she'd sat up, and keep her tucked in with her covers over her head for two days. But like she said before, it was more than worth it. She frowned, not sure how to convince Rachel she had absolutely no problem with passing out and waking up to another sex-hangover because of a spectacular, literally mind blowing orgasm. She just wanted to be with her girlfriend. Leaning in, she placed a simple kiss on pouty lips. And didn't that Frost woman say something about practicing? That meant they should be doing this an awful, awful lot — not abstaining.

Rachel broke away. "But what if I really hurt you?"

Quinn pulled back a bit, cupping sun-bronzed cheeks in her hands, and looked into a worried brown gaze. She swallowed the lump in her throat, unsure why this moment felt so big. "Not being able to touch you hurts more."

A blink. Two blinks. Then Rachel kissed her. God, she really was good at this.

It wasn't overly-passionate, nor did it contain any kind of desperation. It was intense without being overpowering and managed to be both comfortingly familiar and excitingly new. How that worked, she didn't have the foggiest clue, but it did. And it was exactly what she needed. She threaded her fingers in the diva's thick hair and ground their hips together.

One of Rachel's hands slid to the middle of her back, holding her close, while the other ventured under her sky blue babydoll dress to her ass. A surprised squeak escaped her throat and the blonde reflexively bit down on a plump red lip. Rachel whimpered and Quinn soothed her tongue over the sting before seeking entrance into the hot mouth she adored. She swept in quickly, tasting and exploring, unable to get enough.

Rachel moaned and squeezed her ass, deepening their kiss and sending a rush of desire coursing throughout her entire body. And while the blonde was very much enjoying it, she did have other plans.

Incapable of staying in one place for long, Quinn began leaving little kisses up and down the singer's neck as her hands made quick work of the buttons on the ugly, frilly polka dotted shirt.

"My shirt is not ugly," the fashion-challenged girl gasped as Quinn nipped at her earlobe.

"Baby," the blonde pushed the material over smooth shoulders, "anything that hides you from me is ugly." She tossed the shirt behind her and gently shoved Rachel flat on the bed before discarding her own white cardigan and taking a good long look at her girlfriend. "Good God, you're gorgeous."

Both girls stared at the other in awe: Rachel looked completely bewildered at the words — Quinn had no idea why because sweet Mother Mary was it true — while the cheerleader couldn't comprehend why this exquisite body was kept secret under all those fugly animal sweaters. Instantly, she decided the diva was too beautiful to wear any clothes at all and should just renounce them altogether. Then again, Quinn really, really didn't like the idea of anyone else seeing her girl naked. Especially when she hadn't yet.

"I'm your girl, huh?" The cocky quirk of a dark eyebrow failed to cover the insecurity in Rachel's voice.

The taller girl grinned and attacked the softly tanned body below her with open-mouthed kisses and sharp bites that were definitely going to bruise. Good. Leaving a mark was the whole point. "Mine," she growled, reaching to undo her girl's bra clasp.

Rachel arched up and discarded the hateful garment (with its stupidly adorable little gold stars) seconds before pink lips descended to chocolate colored nipples that tasted way better than any candy ever could.

The singer groaned in pleasure and yanked at her hair — something Quinn had no idea could be a turn on — but she was far too determined to let that distract her. After she'd had her temporary fill, her slender hands skimmed over smooth abs and her mouth released a stiff peak with a resounding pop as she slid down Rachel's body, falling to her knees on the floor and kissing her way to a cute, ticklish belly button before progressing further south to meet flimsy satin panties.

She saw the large wet patch clinging to Rachel's skin, and her nostrils filled with the unique, heady scent of her arousal. Quinn's mouth watered. It was all for her, too. Lust was by no means unfamiliar to the sixteen year old, but she'd never felt it like this before. She forced Rachel's hips up while she all but ripped the drenched material down tan legs and licked her way back up, trying to keep calm and not ravage the girl then and there.

Ghosting her lips along the inside of glistening thighs, she maneuvered the brunette to the edge of the bed. "Look at you," she whispered in amazement. A single finger drifted over the wet, puffy lips of her girlfriend's centre and they parted as Rachel spread her legs further, bending her knee and bracing one foot on the bed while the other wrapped around Quinn's back. "You're so wet, baby."

"Quinn," came the pitiful whine from above as Rachel wove her hand into long blonde hair. Her constant moans and whimpers had almost become white noise, but her words snared Quinn's attention. "Need you."

Tamping down her own excitement, Quinn flattened her tongue, swiping through swollen folds and moaning at the flavor filling her mouth. She couldn't really describe it aside from that Rachel was tangy and sweet and she couldn't think of anything else in the world that could compare because surely no such thing existed.

Stroke after agonizingly slow stroke, she took her time exploring her girlfriend's flushed wet core, dipping inside and probing with her tongue. Hearing the breathy gasps, feeling the awkward grip of a tan leg tightening around her back and the scratch of manicured fingernails over her scalp and digging into her shoulder — it was overwhelming and she wanted nothing more than to lose herself in Rachel and never be found. She captured the singer's firm clit with her lips and showed no mercy; flicking her tongue, lightly scraping with her teeth.

"Oh fuck!" The brunette keened and her back bowed as Quinn sucked harder, faster than light speeding through a vacuum.

Light.

With no small amount of willpower, she pulled away, panting. There were two things wrong with this situation. One: she apparently didn't tune out as much of Rachel's complaints about her physics homework as she thought, and two: she wasn't seeing any kind of orgasmic lightshow whatsoever. Rachel was holding back, afraid.

"Rach," she rasped, uncertain how her voice had gotten so low. Clearing her throat, she tried again. "Rachel, c'mon."

Jet black eyes opened and gazed down at her, lazy and unfocused.

She kept licking at her girlfriend's dripping centre, holding eye contact and speaking every few passes. The telepath tensed, still fighting to uphold whatever mental shield between them that was splintering with each lap of Quinn's pink tongue.

"Let go, baby." Another swipe led to another tortured moan. "Let me feel you."

A prolonged swirl around the hard bundle of nerves sent Rachel's hips toward the ceiling, but brown eyes squeezed shut and she shook her head. "No," she protested, albeit half-heartedly. "Don't wanna hurt you."

Quinn paused after a simple kiss to Rachel's mound, her hands absently running up and down twitching thighs. "Baby, look at me." She did, and they stared into each other, and for once Quinn didn't have a single thought in her head as she tumbled into hazy, dark eyes. She just felt. Felt the rush of blood through her veins, felt her heart hammering in her chest, felt the burning of her empty lungs fruitlessly trying to breathe the thickening air around them, felt…peaceful. What the hell was this? She hesitantly bit her lip, afraid of what these feelings might mean. She didn't want to dwell on that, though. She only wanted one thing in this world right now: she wanted to be inside of her girlfriend in every way humanly, and super humanly, possible. "Rachel, please. Let me in."

Glazed eyes turned sharp as Rachel seemed to look right through her, assessing her. It was unnerving, but not creepy. Part of her liked how Rachel looked at her in ways no one else had, in ways she feared no one ever would again. Suddenly, the brunette bolted upright and sealed their lips together as they managed to remove Quinn's pretty blue dress and bra, leaving her in only her panties as their kisses turned tender and slow. Something around them shifted. It was soothing and put her at complete ease, as though Rachel was trying to comfort her. Or tell her something without actually saying it.

The kiss broke and a timid voice asked, "Quinn, are you sure?"

She nodded, staring into those bottomless black eyes.

"Okay." A delicate hand cradled the back of her head while the other reached down, clasping Quinn's wrist, guiding her forward to Rachel's dripping centre. Hot breath gusted over her mouth. "Feel me."

Gently, Quinn pushed a single finger into the tight heat and her girlfriend finally welcomed her inside, body and mind. Holy fuck…Rachel.

She was met with a muted shade of pink blanketing her senses and her eyes rolled back in her head, lids fluttering closed. So good. The richly colored light enveloped her very being, and she cautiously added a second finger. The light warmed, darkening and simmering into a coppery red and melting like a swirl of cinnamon into a rich, burnt orange that throbbed in time with her heart. With Rachel's heart.

"This — you — " she sputtered, pulling out the tiniest bit before sliding home again. So fucking good… She was absolutely enthralled by the sensation of her fingers disappearing inside her girlfriend. The brunette fastened her legs about Quinn's waist while long digits buried themselves to the knuckle.

Everything slowed to a near standstill, including her hand as stunning lights pulsed in her mind's eye. This was unreal, and different from their first time. Where Quinn was luminous neon beams of day-glow hues, Rachel was sultry radiant tones that fused and fissioned at random, varying intensity with even the most minute movement or shuddering breath. She reclaimed that kiss-swollen mouth, surrendering as much of her mind as she possibly could. She wanted everything Rachel had to give, and to give Rachel everything she had. Her fingers inadvertently curled, and a flash of scalding garnet flared throughout the recesses of her brain and her surprised moan was lost to their kiss.

It was beautiful. Powerful. Addictive.

When she bit down on the girl's full bottom lip a spark, like steel striking flint, burst behind her eyes. She dragged her mouth away and grazed her teeth down the column of a delectable throat. There was no enormous explosion, just shimmering lights with each pass of her lips over smooth skin as she relished the glowing amber streaks they left in her head as the diva's mind flowed into hers.

She smiled, loving the way she and Rachel fit together both mentally and physically. Their bodies rocked as one with those silky tan legs about her waist and small hands grasping at her shoulders as Rachel slid further off the bed and into Quinn's embrace. Her pace quickened and a vibrant burgundy back drop blazed, growing brighter as Rachel's excitement surged from seemingly nowhere. She felt it just as much as she saw it. The cheerleader's still-there panties were ruined and not for one minute did she care. Rachel was climbing higher and taking Quinn with her.

More. Quinn, please, more.

The speed of her thrusts increased and ginger colored clouds glimmered in the now dusky pink sky of their minds, leaving no room for actual thought, just instinct. She found herself driving harder, powering in and out of Rachel as rivulets of slick passion trickled down her hand. Dear God Rachel felt amazing. She was deliciously tight, pulsing and strong. The slippery walls began contracting around her and she redoubled her efforts, panting against her girlfriend's neck.

Rachel pushed Quinn backward and slid off the bed to kneel astride the taller girl's lap, both moaning at the new angle and just how very deeply connected they were. A sweat dampened forehead pressed against hers and smooth palms cupped her cheeks as the smaller girl began riding her fingers. Their gazes locked, shining with trust and that particular something Quinn wasn't ready to name. Her mind was otherwise occupied. Tell me what you want, baby.

"Quinn," Rachel whispered. "Fuck me."

The softly spoken words rocketed through her body and she unceremoniously slammed a third finger inside, filling Rachel completely. A high-pitched cry reverberated throughout the room and cherry red shockwaves ricocheted all over her mind. Part of her knew she should pause for the petite young woman to adjust to the new fit, but the whip of dark hair battering her cheek as Rachel frantically shook her head changed her mind. Quinn curled her fingers and again found that magnificent spot that made Rachel scream.

"Fuck! Yesssss!"

This wasn't laser beams or cracks of lightning. This was being thrown into the sun itself, or leaping into the mouth of a volcano. Quinn burned everywhere; and never had anything felt so right, so perfect. Stripes of molten gold poured through her mind as she drove Rachel to the brink. Sharp white teeth sank into her shoulder and talon-like nails clawed her back as Rachel clung to her, silently begging. Harder, faster. Please!

The harsh, wrecked breathing resonating in her ears only added to the desperate plea rolling in her head and she complied, summoning every ounce of strength she possessed. Quinn squeezed her eyes shut and tightened her hold on the already shaking girl, watching as streaks of sun scorched red raged behind her closed lids. Rachel blazed through her with each thrust, each bite, each line clawed down her back. Bright scarlet waves oscillated toward her as the singer crested with every rise and fall of their bodies. She hammered in and out of her girlfriend with all she had and brought her thumb to quickly circle Rachel's clit.

"Quiiinnnnnn!"

Shocks of vivid colors saturated her world as Rachel came. Hard. The brunette tumbled over the edge, her walls clenching and unclenching almost painfully around Quinn's relentless fingers. And Quinn was right there with her, flooding her panties without ever being touched as a kaleidoscope of lustrous tones spun behind her eyes. She lost the rhythm then; her movements became erratic and jerky as she followed Rachel into a dazzling abyss, overcome at the intensity barraging their tangled minds and gasping for air. Everything went white.

The room was nearly silent when consciousness returned; there was nothing but soft sighs and the feel of slow breaths washing over her neck as a warm, naked body lay atop hers. Her mind was equally quiet, unexpectedly peaceful. Gingerly, a single hazel eye peeked open, as if the simple act of waking would bring on a skull-splitting headache.

It was dark. Everything was pitch black. Oh God, did she go blind? Did that monster of an orgasm blow out her retinas or something? A soft harrumph interrupted her panic and her head lolled to the side with relative ease to investigate, and instead discovered something wonderful: no pain. No sign of a migraine or headache of any kind. No nausea, either. Both eyes blinked open and she took in her surroundings. She was on the floor, lying under her girlfriend's surprisingly heavy body. The term "dead weight" certainly applied in this situation. Rachel seemed to be out cold, with only her deep breathing and an occasional moan as any sign of life. Quinn smiled; she was fine. Everything was fine. Perfectly, blissfully, post-coitally fine. Fuck yeah no supernatural sex-hangover!

Baby, shut up.

"Huh?" The cheerleader shifted, rearranging herself to sit up to better see the girl as her eyes adjusted to the dark, but a small hand on her sternum slammed her down flat on her back.

Don't. Move.

Instantly, she stilled. What happened? Was Rachel all right? Worried, she ignored the previous instruction and attempted to wiggle free again.

What part of "don't move" don't you understand, Quinn?

She didn't know it was possible for telepathic communication to have a tone, but there was definite tone there, specifically of the irritated girlfriend variety. Quinn bit her lip and slowly brushed tendrils of glossy hair out of the way, expecting to see big chocolate eyes. What she found, however, were sealed lids and a brow pinched as though Rachel were in pain.

Good job, Sherlock.

Umm, what? A dark blonde eyebrow quirked at that very unBerry remark. There was no need to be nasty. They should be celebrating their fantastic, mind-blowing, pain free — oh. OH! Realization dawned on her and she bit back a smile. It was horrible of her; she knew exactly what Rachel was feeling and she couldn't help but chuckle at the role reversal. Rachel's head was probably killing her.

Yes, and I'm going to kill you if you don't stop thinking so loud.

Oh, this was bad. But so hilariously ironic. Giggles shook her frame, disturbing the small body lying half on top of her. An agonized groan vibrated against her skin and her arms tightened around her girlfriend. "I'm sorry, baby. I know it hurts."

She tried to sound sympathetic, she really did, but this was just too good. It's not that she enjoyed her girlfriend being in pain, because that was just a little sick and a whole lot of wrong, but the brunette's prior reluctance and her worries about hurting Quinn if they had sex again was just too freaking funny right now. Quakes shook her as her laughter bubbled forth.

Rachel whimpered and buried her face further into the blonde's shoulder. Fabray, I love you, but if you don't shut up you're a dead woman.

She stiffened, they both did. Quinn wasn't laughing now. The words rattled around her brain and she felt a little bit sick. Her stomach was in a tizzy and the room began spinning. Hazel eyes closed against the world as she valiantly tried to sort out the mess of emotions cluttering her brain. There wasn't much to sift through, though: one thought stood out louder than the rest.

"Rach," she whispered, purposely keeping her voice low so she didn't disturb Rachel further.

First there was nothing. Then a cough. Finally a hoarse and labored voice. "What?"

Quinn chewed her bottom lip, contemplating the words that she didn't know how to say out loud.

But she needed to. She sort of wanted to.

Careful arms wrapped tighter around the small brunette, whom eventually relaxed into her as she brushed a featherlike kiss over Rachel's forehead.

"I love you, too."

There. No fanfare. No grand overtures or sensational serenades. Just words. She held her breath, waiting.

Whimpering from the effort, Rachel pushed up on her elbows to hover above Quinn. Tenderly, she cupped Quinn's cheek and the blonde shivered as a gentle thumb passed over her lips. She couldn't resist pressing a tiny kiss to the lingering digit. Rachel only smiled.

"It's about time you figured it out."

Quinn went from terrified and nervously happy, to annoyed and maybe a little amused. She raised an eyebrow. "You know, I'm thinking about taking it back now."

No you're not. A wide grin broke out on the diva's face, and Quinn couldn't help but be a little distracted by those full lips and what they could be doing.

Huffing, she rolled her eyes, trying to look bored by Rachel's teasing when in actuality her body may or may not have been gearing up for another round. "Fine, what am I thinking about then?" Well there was a stupid question to ask a telepath.

Rachel leaned down and dropped her mouth to Quinn's in a sweet, loving kiss that soon turned passionate and needy as Rachel sucked on her tongue. Desire danced through her veins again and wetness gathered between her legs. She really wished Rachel wasn't hurting so badly because the cheerleader still had months of pent-up sexual frustration and a number of fantasies she wouldn't mind trying.

Breaking the kiss, Quinn progressed down Rachel's elegant neck to her pulse point, sucking and biting.

"Doesn't sex cure headaches?" Rachel gasped.

"Dunno," she mumbled against the soft skin of Rachel's throat. She really had no idea, but how amazing would be if it were true?

"Think we should test that theory?" she asked through a groan as Quinn bit down on a rather tantalizing collarbone, continuing lower. "Perhaps repeatedly?"

Quinn smirked before capturing her girlfriend in a deep, toe-curling kiss. She took back every negative comment she ever made about their sex life or former lack thereof. Dating Rachel Berry was freaking awesome. "You read my mind, baby."