Paradise by the Dashboard Light [Glee, Puck/Rachel]
Title: Paradise by the Dashboard Light
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Puck/Rachel, also has talk of Brittany/Santana, and just a smidgeon of not really but almost Puck/Kurt because they’re OTP and I just had to, I’m sorry.
Rating: Hard R/NC-17
Disclaimer: Glee and its characters do not belong to me; neither does the song “Paradise by the Dashboard Light”.
Summary: Takes place some undetermined time after “The Rhodes Not Taken”; Salt-n-Pepa, an orange, and Meatloaf turn out to be excellent foreplay.
A/N: At 2,337 words, this is my longest Glee fic, and it’s not even my OTP. XD
Until New Directions’ performance of “Push It”, Puck had never really considered the sexuality of Rachel Berry. He’d never thought of her as his type. She wasn’t a cheerleader, wasn’t a hot mom with a pool; she was just a loser who posted loser videos on myspace and had a loser face that was perfect for throwing Slushies at and just happened to be fairly pretty.
Well, after “Push It”, he had to admit that he started finding her a lot more than fairly pretty. He started studying the soft sweaters she wore, started being able to tell when she was wearing a padded bra and when she wasn’t. He started noticing her lips and legs.
She caught him eyeing her little skirts in glee club rehearsal more than once. The first time, she looked at him with an expression that was the lovechild of confusion and surprise. The second time, she narrowed her eyes and tilted her head to the side in consideration. The third time, she arched a suggestive eyebrow and the corner of her mouth quirked upward.
That was the first invitation.
[---]
I remember every little thing as if it happened only yesterday
Parking by the lake and there was not another car in sight
And I never had a girl looking any better than you did
And all the kids at school, they were wishing they were me that night
This impromptu, private rehearsal was complete and utter bullshit. Puck didn’t buy for one second the crap she’d spouted at him in the hallway-“If you’re really serious about glee club, you need extra practice. You can move all right, but I hope you don’t think no one’s noticed the sour notes you’ve hit, blah, blah, blah, blah.” Sour notes his ass. This wasn’t extra practice; this was foreplay. Rachel Berry wanted him.
And now our bodies are oh so close and tight
Her voice joined his, reaching her hand out and letting him take it. They improvised the movements as she spun into him; he leaned back slightly so her hair didn’t whip him in the face and his free hand touched her hip.
It never felt so good, it never felt so right
The fingers on her hip inched downward and she glanced back at him before spinning away. She didn’t let go of his hand.
And we're glowing like the metal on the edge of a knife
Glowing like the metal on the edge of a knife
[---]
Puck was alone in the hotel room when three quick, urgent knocks at the door sounded. He figured it was probably Finn, or maybe Mr. Schuester or Coach Tanaka, who’d possibly forgotten their card keys. Or the few other folks from glee club that’d tagged along to see the Acafellas performance, wanting to get together and do something naughty-i.e. sing something dirty, like “Birthday Sex” or “Delirious”. (Losers.) Smirking in bemusement at the thought, Puck opened the door, and his expression faltered a little when he saw Rachel Berry standing there.
“Finn’s not here.”
She took a half-step forward, as if expecting him to shut the door in her face. “That’s not why I’m here.”
He looked her up and down, eyes purposefully lingering on the hem of her short skirt. “Oh yeah?”
“That’s not why, either.” She pushed at his chest so she could step inside the room.
Puck closed the door and turned around to watch her walk over to the dresser, where she eyed the fruit basket Mr. Schuester’s wife had sent to the room with very thinly veiled interest. “Help yourself.”
“Thank you.” Smiling a little, she inspected the fruit before selecting an orange. “Would you like to share it?” She asked. “Vitamin C boosts your immune system, after all, and this is flu season. You can’t let the rest of us down by getting sick.” She averted her eyes as she broke the peel with her fingernail, adding, “I’ve also heard that an orange a day is beneficial in keeping a man’s sperm healthy.”
A bit of an amused chuckle escaped him as he shook his head, crossed his arms. “So you came here to steal fruit and talk about my seed?”
For a moment, Rachel’s lips puckered as if his words had left a sour taste in her mouth. Then, carefully peeling the fruit, she admitted, “It’s Brittany and Santana. They’re-taking a shower.”
Puck’s eyebrows shot up. “Together?”
“You didn’t know?” She asked, unnecessarily, Puck thought, because everyone knew.
“Of course I knew,” he said, sitting down on the edge of one of the beds. “I just thought they’d be more discreet about where to have their sexy girl-on-girl hookups.” His lips formed a devious grin as Rachel rolled her eyes. “I’m surprised you’re not watching.”
“What?”
“Well, you’re a virgin, right?” Her cheeks reddened, and he idly imagined what the rest of her body would look like, covered in such a flush. “Aren’t you curious?”
“Don’t be disgusting.” She frowned down at the orange and she took it apart, the redness of her face deepening as she continued to speak. “I’m not a voyeur, and life isn’t some awful porn movie. I would never even dream of intruding on someone’s lovemaking. It should be a private and special moment for those involved, not a source of entertainment.”
“Lovemaking isn’t the same as fucking, Rachel.”
She opened her mouth, like she had a reply, but for whatever reason-maybe she didn’t have a reply at all, maybe it was the conversation in general, maybe it was the way he’d said her name-she said nothing. Instead, she bit and nibbled at the tip of an orange wedge before closing her lips around it. He watched, wondered if this was some strange plan of hers-get him all hot and bothered by the thought of two cheerleaders fingering each other in the shower, and then seduce him with the Art of Sexy Fruit Eating. Probably not.
“Are you sure you don’t want some?”
Hell yes, he wanted-oh, the orange. He raised, lowered one shoulder. “Why not?”
She approached him cautiously, like she was afraid he was going to lunge at her or something, and he spread his legs a little so she could stand between them. He reached out, hand closing around her wrist as she offered him an orange wedge. She gasped but didn’t try to pull away, even letting him guide her hand to his mouth. With feelings of boldness and arousal, he slowly sucked the juice from the orange, watching the very appealing way her chest was heaving.
“Puck.” She said his name softly, like a breathy prayer that he felt all the way at the base of his spine. He was pretty sure she meant to say something more-a warning, maybe, or a refusal, or a reminder that he didn’t go for girls like her and she certainly didn’t go for guys like him-but all she did was exhale shakily-
-and then the door opened. Rachel jerked her hand out of his grasp so fast he barely managed to snag the orange wedge with his teeth to keep it from falling to the floor. Coach Tanaka only had time to look at the two of them with slack-jawed incredulity and a tinge of disapproval before Rachel hastily thanked him for the fruit and quickly left the room, her skirt flouncing up to reveal a tempting flash of thigh as she went.
[---]
Though it's cold and lonely in the deep dark night
I can see paradise by the dashboard light
Paradise by the dashboard light
Standing on opposite sides of the empty choir room, they stared each other down as they sang. There was always an intensity in Rachel Berry’s face when she sang, but Puck was almost certain this was a little different. There was a lustiness to her intensity, that was reminiscent of “Push It”, but better because it was just them. There was an invitation in her eyes (Was it the third? Fifth? Ninth? He couldn’t be sure anymore.) as she walked toward him, leading her movements with her hips.
You got to do what you can
And let Mother Nature do the rest
Ain't no doubt about it; we were doubly blessed
Hands in his jean pockets clenched in restraint, Puck found himself smiling slightly as he sang with the girl circling him. He knew what she wanted, and he was just waiting for her to get on board. She wasn’t a flirty cheerleader or a horny mom; she was a virgin with silly preconceived notions about the magical first experience and she needed time. He could understand that, sort of.
…But, Christ, how much more time did she need?
Cause we were barely seventeen
And we were barely-
Grabbing her arm, he pulled her close. She stumbled a little and he slipped an arm around her waist, partly to steady her, mostly to keep her from moving away. Her breasts pressed against him, her eyes widened, and for a moment he thought she was finally going to do something. And she did. She gave him a sharp look that meant, “Keep singing.”
We're gonna go all the way tonight
We're gonna go all the way
And tonight's the night...
[---]
He met her eyes across the crowded lunchroom, through the gap between Brittany and Santana. She was talking to Tina, but she was looking at him, and she wasn’t being very subtle about it. It pleased him. The corner of his mouth curving upward in a smirk, he held up the orange he’d brought with him from home and arched an eyebrow. She smiled at him, laughed a little. He could feel Finn’s confused stare from beside him, but he offered no explanation as he casually peeled his orange.
“Did you know this shit is good for our seed?”
[---]
It was long ago and it was far away
And it was so much better than it is today
Puck sang quietly under his breath as he got into his truck, tossing his bag in the back. He glanced down at his cup holder and saw that it was empty and definitely needed to be filled with a Slushie. Which he would drink most of, especially if it was cherry, and then go find Hummel at the mall and “accidentally” spill the rest of it on his stupid Marc Jacobs jacket just to see him bitch about it. He was kind of cute when he was bitching about stuff. No homo, though.
The three knocks on the passenger side window broke his train of thought.
A slow I-knew-you-wanted-me smile spreading across his face, Puck unlocked the doors so she could climb in beside him. He looked at her with a quiet expectance as she tossed her hair over her shoulder and tried to get comfortable in the cab. (She didn’t strike him as a truck girl, which made this even better, in his opinion.)
Her eyes surveyed the parking lot for a moment before she faced him, asked, “Is there some place we can go that’s a little less open and respectable?”
Mentally scoffing at the idea of a high school parking lot being respectable, he nodded as he fit his key in the ignition and started the engine. “Absolutely.”
It never felt so good, it never felt so right
And we were glowing like the metal on the edge of a knife
[---]
She’d turned his radio onto a jazz station. Puck wasn’t a big fan of jazz, really, but he doubted he’d be able to listen to it again without getting hard.
He had a lapful of Rachel Berry. She was making the most delicious panting noises in his ear as she ground against him, pressing forward into his erection, pressing backward into his hands that were kneading the cotton-covered flesh underneath her skirt. Her breasts rubbed against his chest as she moved and he bent down, making her lean back a little so he could open the buttons of her sweater with his teeth.
“No one likes a showoff, Puck,” she teased as she removed the garment and tossed it in the back with his bag.
“Now that’s the pot calling the kettle black.”
She played nervously with the bottom of her shirt. “I actually have a pink kettle.” She inhaled sharply as his fingers slid beneath her underwear. “I can make really amazing cinnamon tea.” She took one deep breath before pulling off her shirt. It was a padded bra day; he smirked. “What?” She asked, sounding slightly defensive.
“Nothing,” he said. He bent down again, pressed kisses against the tops of her breasts. She leaned into the attention as his lips moved lower, lower, until his tongue could slip inside her bra and seek out that sensitive nub that would make her-
“Oh!”
She dug her fingernails into his shoulders and he grinned, flicking his tongue against her nipple again, again, again as she gasped his name like a mantra. He left one hand on her behind, let the other one feel out the warm, tender area between her thigh; her hips snapped forward in eager desperation. Se rode both his hand and his arousal, movements growing fast and erratic, until she squeezed her eyes shut and her muscles grew tight and her body flushed all over.
As she trembled a little with aftershocks, she took his face in her hands and leaned down to kiss him. And he tried not to make a habit of kissing girls who weren’t his type, but he made an exception for her. (Just because it was that magical first experience.)
[---]
The second magical experience came a few days later, when Mr. Schuester asked for song suggestions, and Rachel said “Paradise by the Dashboard Light” before winking at him from across the room.
Puck never doubted the sexuality of Rachel Berry ever again.
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Puck/Rachel, also has talk of Brittany/Santana, and just a smidgeon of not really but almost Puck/Kurt because they’re OTP and I just had to, I’m sorry.
Rating: Hard R/NC-17
Disclaimer: Glee and its characters do not belong to me; neither does the song “Paradise by the Dashboard Light”.
Summary: Takes place some undetermined time after “The Rhodes Not Taken”; Salt-n-Pepa, an orange, and Meatloaf turn out to be excellent foreplay.
A/N: At 2,337 words, this is my longest Glee fic, and it’s not even my OTP. XD
Until New Directions’ performance of “Push It”, Puck had never really considered the sexuality of Rachel Berry. He’d never thought of her as his type. She wasn’t a cheerleader, wasn’t a hot mom with a pool; she was just a loser who posted loser videos on myspace and had a loser face that was perfect for throwing Slushies at and just happened to be fairly pretty.
Well, after “Push It”, he had to admit that he started finding her a lot more than fairly pretty. He started studying the soft sweaters she wore, started being able to tell when she was wearing a padded bra and when she wasn’t. He started noticing her lips and legs.
She caught him eyeing her little skirts in glee club rehearsal more than once. The first time, she looked at him with an expression that was the lovechild of confusion and surprise. The second time, she narrowed her eyes and tilted her head to the side in consideration. The third time, she arched a suggestive eyebrow and the corner of her mouth quirked upward.
That was the first invitation.
[---]
I remember every little thing as if it happened only yesterday
Parking by the lake and there was not another car in sight
And I never had a girl looking any better than you did
And all the kids at school, they were wishing they were me that night
This impromptu, private rehearsal was complete and utter bullshit. Puck didn’t buy for one second the crap she’d spouted at him in the hallway-“If you’re really serious about glee club, you need extra practice. You can move all right, but I hope you don’t think no one’s noticed the sour notes you’ve hit, blah, blah, blah, blah.” Sour notes his ass. This wasn’t extra practice; this was foreplay. Rachel Berry wanted him.
And now our bodies are oh so close and tight
Her voice joined his, reaching her hand out and letting him take it. They improvised the movements as she spun into him; he leaned back slightly so her hair didn’t whip him in the face and his free hand touched her hip.
It never felt so good, it never felt so right
The fingers on her hip inched downward and she glanced back at him before spinning away. She didn’t let go of his hand.
And we're glowing like the metal on the edge of a knife
Glowing like the metal on the edge of a knife
[---]
Puck was alone in the hotel room when three quick, urgent knocks at the door sounded. He figured it was probably Finn, or maybe Mr. Schuester or Coach Tanaka, who’d possibly forgotten their card keys. Or the few other folks from glee club that’d tagged along to see the Acafellas performance, wanting to get together and do something naughty-i.e. sing something dirty, like “Birthday Sex” or “Delirious”. (Losers.) Smirking in bemusement at the thought, Puck opened the door, and his expression faltered a little when he saw Rachel Berry standing there.
“Finn’s not here.”
She took a half-step forward, as if expecting him to shut the door in her face. “That’s not why I’m here.”
He looked her up and down, eyes purposefully lingering on the hem of her short skirt. “Oh yeah?”
“That’s not why, either.” She pushed at his chest so she could step inside the room.
Puck closed the door and turned around to watch her walk over to the dresser, where she eyed the fruit basket Mr. Schuester’s wife had sent to the room with very thinly veiled interest. “Help yourself.”
“Thank you.” Smiling a little, she inspected the fruit before selecting an orange. “Would you like to share it?” She asked. “Vitamin C boosts your immune system, after all, and this is flu season. You can’t let the rest of us down by getting sick.” She averted her eyes as she broke the peel with her fingernail, adding, “I’ve also heard that an orange a day is beneficial in keeping a man’s sperm healthy.”
A bit of an amused chuckle escaped him as he shook his head, crossed his arms. “So you came here to steal fruit and talk about my seed?”
For a moment, Rachel’s lips puckered as if his words had left a sour taste in her mouth. Then, carefully peeling the fruit, she admitted, “It’s Brittany and Santana. They’re-taking a shower.”
Puck’s eyebrows shot up. “Together?”
“You didn’t know?” She asked, unnecessarily, Puck thought, because everyone knew.
“Of course I knew,” he said, sitting down on the edge of one of the beds. “I just thought they’d be more discreet about where to have their sexy girl-on-girl hookups.” His lips formed a devious grin as Rachel rolled her eyes. “I’m surprised you’re not watching.”
“What?”
“Well, you’re a virgin, right?” Her cheeks reddened, and he idly imagined what the rest of her body would look like, covered in such a flush. “Aren’t you curious?”
“Don’t be disgusting.” She frowned down at the orange and she took it apart, the redness of her face deepening as she continued to speak. “I’m not a voyeur, and life isn’t some awful porn movie. I would never even dream of intruding on someone’s lovemaking. It should be a private and special moment for those involved, not a source of entertainment.”
“Lovemaking isn’t the same as fucking, Rachel.”
She opened her mouth, like she had a reply, but for whatever reason-maybe she didn’t have a reply at all, maybe it was the conversation in general, maybe it was the way he’d said her name-she said nothing. Instead, she bit and nibbled at the tip of an orange wedge before closing her lips around it. He watched, wondered if this was some strange plan of hers-get him all hot and bothered by the thought of two cheerleaders fingering each other in the shower, and then seduce him with the Art of Sexy Fruit Eating. Probably not.
“Are you sure you don’t want some?”
Hell yes, he wanted-oh, the orange. He raised, lowered one shoulder. “Why not?”
She approached him cautiously, like she was afraid he was going to lunge at her or something, and he spread his legs a little so she could stand between them. He reached out, hand closing around her wrist as she offered him an orange wedge. She gasped but didn’t try to pull away, even letting him guide her hand to his mouth. With feelings of boldness and arousal, he slowly sucked the juice from the orange, watching the very appealing way her chest was heaving.
“Puck.” She said his name softly, like a breathy prayer that he felt all the way at the base of his spine. He was pretty sure she meant to say something more-a warning, maybe, or a refusal, or a reminder that he didn’t go for girls like her and she certainly didn’t go for guys like him-but all she did was exhale shakily-
-and then the door opened. Rachel jerked her hand out of his grasp so fast he barely managed to snag the orange wedge with his teeth to keep it from falling to the floor. Coach Tanaka only had time to look at the two of them with slack-jawed incredulity and a tinge of disapproval before Rachel hastily thanked him for the fruit and quickly left the room, her skirt flouncing up to reveal a tempting flash of thigh as she went.
[---]
Though it's cold and lonely in the deep dark night
I can see paradise by the dashboard light
Paradise by the dashboard light
Standing on opposite sides of the empty choir room, they stared each other down as they sang. There was always an intensity in Rachel Berry’s face when she sang, but Puck was almost certain this was a little different. There was a lustiness to her intensity, that was reminiscent of “Push It”, but better because it was just them. There was an invitation in her eyes (Was it the third? Fifth? Ninth? He couldn’t be sure anymore.) as she walked toward him, leading her movements with her hips.
You got to do what you can
And let Mother Nature do the rest
Ain't no doubt about it; we were doubly blessed
Hands in his jean pockets clenched in restraint, Puck found himself smiling slightly as he sang with the girl circling him. He knew what she wanted, and he was just waiting for her to get on board. She wasn’t a flirty cheerleader or a horny mom; she was a virgin with silly preconceived notions about the magical first experience and she needed time. He could understand that, sort of.
…But, Christ, how much more time did she need?
Cause we were barely seventeen
And we were barely-
Grabbing her arm, he pulled her close. She stumbled a little and he slipped an arm around her waist, partly to steady her, mostly to keep her from moving away. Her breasts pressed against him, her eyes widened, and for a moment he thought she was finally going to do something. And she did. She gave him a sharp look that meant, “Keep singing.”
We're gonna go all the way tonight
We're gonna go all the way
And tonight's the night...
[---]
He met her eyes across the crowded lunchroom, through the gap between Brittany and Santana. She was talking to Tina, but she was looking at him, and she wasn’t being very subtle about it. It pleased him. The corner of his mouth curving upward in a smirk, he held up the orange he’d brought with him from home and arched an eyebrow. She smiled at him, laughed a little. He could feel Finn’s confused stare from beside him, but he offered no explanation as he casually peeled his orange.
“Did you know this shit is good for our seed?”
[---]
It was long ago and it was far away
And it was so much better than it is today
Puck sang quietly under his breath as he got into his truck, tossing his bag in the back. He glanced down at his cup holder and saw that it was empty and definitely needed to be filled with a Slushie. Which he would drink most of, especially if it was cherry, and then go find Hummel at the mall and “accidentally” spill the rest of it on his stupid Marc Jacobs jacket just to see him bitch about it. He was kind of cute when he was bitching about stuff. No homo, though.
The three knocks on the passenger side window broke his train of thought.
A slow I-knew-you-wanted-me smile spreading across his face, Puck unlocked the doors so she could climb in beside him. He looked at her with a quiet expectance as she tossed her hair over her shoulder and tried to get comfortable in the cab. (She didn’t strike him as a truck girl, which made this even better, in his opinion.)
Her eyes surveyed the parking lot for a moment before she faced him, asked, “Is there some place we can go that’s a little less open and respectable?”
Mentally scoffing at the idea of a high school parking lot being respectable, he nodded as he fit his key in the ignition and started the engine. “Absolutely.”
It never felt so good, it never felt so right
And we were glowing like the metal on the edge of a knife
[---]
She’d turned his radio onto a jazz station. Puck wasn’t a big fan of jazz, really, but he doubted he’d be able to listen to it again without getting hard.
He had a lapful of Rachel Berry. She was making the most delicious panting noises in his ear as she ground against him, pressing forward into his erection, pressing backward into his hands that were kneading the cotton-covered flesh underneath her skirt. Her breasts rubbed against his chest as she moved and he bent down, making her lean back a little so he could open the buttons of her sweater with his teeth.
“No one likes a showoff, Puck,” she teased as she removed the garment and tossed it in the back with his bag.
“Now that’s the pot calling the kettle black.”
She played nervously with the bottom of her shirt. “I actually have a pink kettle.” She inhaled sharply as his fingers slid beneath her underwear. “I can make really amazing cinnamon tea.” She took one deep breath before pulling off her shirt. It was a padded bra day; he smirked. “What?” She asked, sounding slightly defensive.
“Nothing,” he said. He bent down again, pressed kisses against the tops of her breasts. She leaned into the attention as his lips moved lower, lower, until his tongue could slip inside her bra and seek out that sensitive nub that would make her-
“Oh!”
She dug her fingernails into his shoulders and he grinned, flicking his tongue against her nipple again, again, again as she gasped his name like a mantra. He left one hand on her behind, let the other one feel out the warm, tender area between her thigh; her hips snapped forward in eager desperation. Se rode both his hand and his arousal, movements growing fast and erratic, until she squeezed her eyes shut and her muscles grew tight and her body flushed all over.
As she trembled a little with aftershocks, she took his face in her hands and leaned down to kiss him. And he tried not to make a habit of kissing girls who weren’t his type, but he made an exception for her. (Just because it was that magical first experience.)
[---]
The second magical experience came a few days later, when Mr. Schuester asked for song suggestions, and Rachel said “Paradise by the Dashboard Light” before winking at him from across the room.
Puck never doubted the sexuality of Rachel Berry ever again.