Rating: R / NC-17
Genre: Romance, Angst, PWP
Characters/Pairings: Quinn/Puck, Quinn/Finn, but I think it really ends up being Quinn/Reality
Spoilers: For Quinn's backstory, nothing more
Summary: Quinn's first time didn't go exactly the way she'd hoped. Her second time did, and somehow that makes things harder. Both times, she finds it much harder than she thought to escape the ghosts of her past.
Quinn's first time didn't go exactly the way she'd hoped.
Of course, Quinn Fabray had always imagined her first time: on her honeymoon, when she was in her first year at a mid-level local college, and married to her high school sweetheart, with her mother's perfect life spread out before her.
That had been Quinn's plan forever, it had been a dream when she was Lucy, a naive, silly little dream of a girl who was never looked at twice. When she was given a second chance, the life she'd always deserved to have, she put the Plan into action. She fell in love - well, in like which, when you're sixteen, is the same thing, right? - with the quarterback, who was tall and sweet and seemed to love her back, and everything worked out.
Until she realised that it's easy to dream when you don't have to put your money where your mouth is.
That's how she ended up here, on her bed, with Noah Puckerman plastered all over her, his hands creeping up the underside of her tiny Cheerio's skirt, not even having to look to know what he was doing.
Lucy Fabray had always wanted a perfect, innocent, Christian life. But what if Quinn ended up somewhere different?
She tried not to gasp when Puck's fingers trailed over a sensitive spot, tried to brush off his satisfied smirk.
"Tell me again."
Puck sighed, and looked her right in the face, "You're not fat."
He said it with the perfect amount of exasperation, like this was so needless to say that he didn't get why it was so important. Which was what she needed, right then. If he'd said it kindly, trying to sound convincing, she would have been back to her old self and she didn't want that.
Right now, she wanted to be Quinn. The head cheerleader, the girl everyone wanted to be or to fuck, the perfect blonde angel of the school who was simultaneously untouchable and ever-present. The one who could take off that halo and screw her virgin boyfriend's sexy best friend with no guilt, simply because she wanted to. Who could have it all.
She ran her hands down both shaved sides of his head, as his lips found her neck. He nibbled on her collar bone, making her moan, and she squirmed a little, trying to get him where she needed him.
"Finn never finds out."
"Never ever." Puck agreed, and proceeded to grind his hips up, so the pressure was right where she needed it to be.
"Life's just a collection of experiences" Well, this is one experience that had never, ever crossed her mind. But there she was, with the school bad boy's hand up her skirt, and Quinn was enjoying the experience of feeling like someone else, like the person she'd always wanted to be.
She felt Puck roll them a little, so he could undo the long zipper at the side of her uniform, and peel it off of her. She didn't want Puck to see how scared she was, how keenly she knew the fact that, even though he was looking at Quinn's toned, athletic, narrow-waisted body and smooth skin, she still felt like scared little Lucy underneath. So she kissed him, closing her eyes tight, and trusted his skills to guide them through the rest.
His hands closed in on her breasts, she felt his thumb swipe over a nipple and she shivered, wriggling against him.
Lucy wouldn't have let Puck's fingers work their way under the waistband of her little cotton panties, wouldn't have cried out into his open mouth at the sensation.
Quinn, however, was sexy, bold, even during her first time. She moved her fingers down to the zipper of his jeans, and worked a hand inside, unsurprised that Puck went commando. He was straining against his jeans, hot and heavy and flatteringly hard in her palm.
"Is this what you like?" she whispered in his ear, and felt him groan in response. This is another reason she'd chosen Puck: he was experienced enough to be able to keep it in his pants for long enough to get through a make-out session. Not exactly Finn's strong suit.
She refused to feel bad for comparing them.
She instead lost herself in the motion, in everything she could see reflected in his eyes. He had said that this wasn't just another random hook-up for him. Good.
She moved him up and simultaneously squirmed herself down to meet him, not even caring that he still had his jeans on. She did manage to pull his shirt up and over his head, ran her hand down smooth, tanned abs, along his muscled arms.
She sealed her lips to his just as he thrusts upwards, losing her cry of pain and pleasure in his mouth, as their tongues battled together. His kisses made her head spin, as her body went into meltdown with the feeling of his hands on her breasts, his cock deep up inside her.
She didn't want to think about it, about what any of it meant. She let it be nothing but heat and sweat and sex, the feeling of his arms on either side of her, pinning her to her bed. The sensation of coming apart around him, his fingers working her body like she never knew was possible. He even waited for her to come first before spasming deep inside her, gritting his teeth in an expression that would have made her laugh if she wasn't still reeling.
"I love you." she almost heard him grunt, as he climaxed inside her, but the alarm bells ringing in her head were muted somewhat by what just happened.
She chose to trust that he wouldn't let anything bad happen, that he'd sort it so nothing could come of this.
Quinn's second time went much more the way she'd expected. In her head, if it weren't for the stretch marks that proved otherwise, she would have edited her memories to make this her first time.
She was in Finn's bed, curled up around him, kissing and cuddling and touching until clothes are removed and it turned into something more serious. She briefly wondered if he and Rachel had ever gone this far, and she knew Santana had got here before she had.
That wasn't the point.
The point was that she'd gotten her life back. If last time was about making it real, this was about claiming it back the way it was supposed to be. With her and Finn, together again, cuddled up in his bed, the rest of their lives ahead of them.
With him, she could forget that anything had changed. She wasn't a mother, she hadn't had to claw and climb her way back to the top of the pyramid, she hadn't seen and done all the shit of the past year and a half.
With him, she was sixteen and a virgin and effortlessly gained anything she wanted. She could be a ruthless, vapid bitch and no-one batted an eye. She didn't have to have a conscience, or regrets, or feel like the bitter adult she'd felt herself grow into through her pregnancy.
Her second time is innocent, and simple: Finn and Quinn, boyfriend and girlfriend, no cheating, no secrets.
No burning need for him to touch her just there, for him to never go away and just keep doing what he's doing. Those feelings, Quinn had learned, were not her friends. They belonged to Puck, to thoughts of their time together, to those few late nights alone at home remembering. They lead to a hot mess of feelings and consequences and hurt, that Quinn never wanted to have to deal with again.
With Finn, she rolls on top of him and positions them right, and sees the huge beaming smile on his open face. She can't help but giggle again at that look of boyish excitement and adoration.
"I love you." That's Finn, always open and honest about his feelings.
Quinn, two years ago, might have lied and responded in kind. "You're adorable." Puck might have noticed the evasion, but Finn didn't. He just grinned wider, and pulled her hips down so he was sheathed in her.
She leaned down to kiss him, and they rocked together, both still smiling. He came first, but, Quinn noticed in his favour, he lasted a lot longer than he'd been able to the last time they'd been dating. And he held her, and fumbled about embarrassedly afterwards, managing, always the gentleman, to push her over that edge as well.
Of course, it wasn't immediate. But it was sweet, and nice, and it felt good to have someone there for her.
This time, she feels bad about drawing comparisons.