Glee Fic: I Want You (She's So Heavy)
Title: I Want You (She's So Heavy)
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn
Word Count: 2420
Rating: R/NC-17
Summary: How Rachel Berry seduced Quinn Fabray with two plans and a music room.
Spoilers: All aired episodes, to be safe.
Notes: Inspired by a ficlet I wrote for Moments. Number three, to be specific. Title courtesy of The Beatles.
Rachel used to firmly believe that the worst feeling in the world is hitting a foul note while singing a solo. Particularly if said solo is sung in front of an audience, although she still feels swooping disappointment when she botches a note with only her hairbrush as a witness.
This belief didn’t change until Rachel realized she wanted Quinn Fabray. Like, wanted her. In a decidedly sexual manner.
Now, Rachel firmly believes that the worst feeling in the world is unrequited lust, because as she sits here, watching Quinn laugh with Brittany and Tina in the corner of the music room, she isn’t thinking about octaves and timing as she should.
She’s imagining doing things with Quinn, things she never thought she’d think about in conjunction with another girl.
Quinn throws her head back in laughter, exposing her long neck, and Rachel would like nothing more than to suck on said neck until it’s bruised and marked as hers.
Rachel just wants her, so badly, too much, the way she wants everything else in life.
---
After numerous glee club rehearsals and countless hours of home practice sessions gone to waste thanks to her mind constantly wandering to various scenarios involving herself and Quinn, Rachel decides she needs to Do Something - capital letters necessary. It has to be a big Something, after all, if she’s going to get Quinn to agree to even look at her without snarling.
She leans her forehead against her closed locker, exhaling deeply, wondering how on earth she’s going to begin. If only she could have these feelings for Puck again. A simple, “Do you want to make out?” would be everything needed to solve her problems.
Rachel’s confident that walking up to Quinn Fabray and asking her if she wants to make out would result in a black eye. Possibly something worse.
She sighs once more and heads to glee rehearsal, where the sight of Quinn arguing with Finn in not-so-hushed tones greets her.
“…not going to say it again,” Quinn hisses. She turns and stalks away from Finn, crossing her arms so tightly across her chest that Rachel wonders if her muscles ache.
Quinn drops into a chair in the corner of the front row, staring straight ahead. Her face is flushed, her lower lip caught tightly between her teeth, and she’s just so beautiful, even in anger - possibly especially in anger, Rachel thinks, as she remembers several of their showdowns - that Rachel feels a jolt of arousal right there in the middle of the music room. What if Rachel was the one causing Quinn’s face to flush as she grabbed the back of the blonde’s neck and kissed her until they couldn’t breathe, what if it was her teeth nipping at Quinn’s full lower lip--
Rachel shakes her head slightly and takes a deep breath. She needs to focus; this is glee practice, not fantasyland. Rehearsals are more important than ever these days. Unfortunately (or fortunately, she hasn’t yet made up her mind, to be truthful), she’s distracted again as Puck crosses in front of her as he approaches Quinn, takes one look at her expression and silently changes course to a seat in the second row.
This isn’t the time! Rachel’s brain tells her, but her body is already moving toward Quinn seemingly of its own will. She sits in the chair next to the blonde, making as little noise as possible as she gathers her sheet music.
Rachel wants to keep her head down - Quinn is obviously not in the mood for anything - but the thing is, ever since Rachel realized she wanted Quinn, her eyes have been drawn to her through some sort of hormonal magnetic pull.
She dares to sneak a glimpse to the right, expecting to see the side of the other girl’s head, and nearly jumps out of her seat when she finds herself unexpectedly face-to-face with a glaring Quinn.
“Need something, Streisand?” Quinn sneers.
Rachel sighs.
This is going to be more difficult than she previously imagined.
---
A plan has been formed. Well, something with a resemblance to a plan.
Rachel is positive that her and Quinn’s interactions are at their best in the music room, ignoring a few barbs here and there. She is going to corner Quinn - no, that sounds crazy - she is going to ask Quinn to stay behind after today’s rehearsal.
She will confess her attraction in a straightforward, concise manner to avoid any miscommunication.
She will be ready to dodge any incoming punches.
It is going to be all right.
She thinks.
She hopes.
---
“Please,” Rachel says as Quinn continues to pack her music into her bag. Maybe Quinn didn’t hear her over the general scuffle of everyone leaving the music room. “I’d like to speak to you. Just for a few minutes,” she continues, hating how utterly formal she sounds. She’d much prefer a more casual approach, but her nerves are currently getting the best of her.
“I heard you the first time,” Quinn mutters. She turns to Rachel, one eyebrow arched, face completely unreadable. They stand that way, in an awkward silence, waiting for Artie and Tina to exit the room last. The sound of the door swinging shut seems extra loud in the sudden calm of the room.
“So. Talk.”
Rachel clears her throat. Quinn rolls her eyes, says, “Is this some sort of speech?”
Rachel ignores that. Her hands are slightly sweaty and shaking. This is ridiculous. They’re in the music room; this is Rachel’s territory. She clears her throat again - Quinn stays silent this time - and says, “I’ve developed feelings for you. An attraction. To you.”
There. Concise, honest, no room for interpretation.
Quinn’s mask of vague annoyance abruptly slips away at Rachel’s words. She’s just standing there, lips parted, blinking down at the brunette.
Right as Rachel starts to worry - maybe she shouldn’t have just dropped a bombshell like this onto a pregnant girl - Quinn seems to compose herself. She lets out a familiar half-laugh of disbelief.
“You have feelings for me, Berry?” she scoffs. “Are you serious? Since when?”
“Yes, I’m serious,” Rachel replies tentatively. She’s reasonably certain that Quinn is not going to punch her in the face, but it’s probably best to approach this with extreme caution. “For a while.”
“This has to be a joke. You’re trying to make me look stupid in front of Finn.” Quinn looks around wildly as if she’s expecting Finn to leap out from behind the piano.
Rachel steps forward and reaches out to grab Quinn’s wrist, but backs down at the last second, dropping her arm to her side.
“I’m serious,” Rachel repeats, her voice growing as her confidence increases with every moment that Quinn doesn’t bolt from the room. “I just needed you to know. I believe the potential consequences of telling you are worth the relief of not keeping everything inside.”
Quinn’s face has returned to the shocked look from before. Rachel thinks she might have actually stunned the blonde into silence, for real this time.
Quinn turns and heads for the exit and Rachel’s heart drops as crushing disappointment settles in. She can’t help but watch Quinn as she walks away, even though her vision is starting to blur thanks to the traitorous tears forming in her eyes. Rachel swipes at them furiously and blinks in surprise when she realizes Quinn has stopped at the door, one hand on the handle, the other braced on the nearby wall.
She doesn’t turn to face Rachel when she speaks.
“It’s a lot to think about,” Quinn murmurs. Her voice is lower than Rachel’s ever heard it before, and there’s something there that she can’t label. The blonde’s shoulders suddenly straighten and she whips around to glare at Rachel. “You shouldn’t just drop something like that on people,” she spits, and her voice is definitely strange. She looks angry, but something’s off, like she’s simply trying to look angry instead of truly feeling it.
“I’m sorry about the way I told you,” Rachel says slowly, carefully.
Quinn nods curtly. She leaves without saying another word.
---
Two days pass.
Rachel discovers that Quinn is rather adept at avoiding people.
She also forms Plan B.
---
Rachel lifts the corner of her skirt high enough to show thigh to Jacob in the AV room.
He promises to knock Quinn’s books out of her arms and make enough of a mess to delay her in the hallway.
It’s slightly more complicated than Plan A, but Quinn can disappear like a teenage pregnant secret agent when she needs to, and Rachel is about to go completely crazy if they don’t at least talk soon.
---
“Oh, God, s-sorry!” Jacob stammers. He shuffles around, effectively scattering Quinn’s textbooks and notebooks around the hall.
Rachel swoops in, nods at Jacob and says, “I’ll help her; just tell Mr. Schuester we’ll be late.” Jacob gives her a thumbs up behind Quinn’s back as he scuttles down the corridor toward the Spanish classrooms.
“Hey,” she murmurs to Quinn, who is blushing furiously and pushing her belongings into a haphazard pile. “Allow me.”
Rachel expertly gathers Quinn’s property into a neat stack and hands it to her with a smile. “It’s one of the hockey team’s favorite pastimes.”
Quinn lets out a small, surprised laugh that makes Rachel’s pulse rate rise.
“Thanks,” Quinn says, finally meeting Rachel’s eyes. She looks down before she adds, “I’ve been thinking about what you said.” Rachel looks toward the floor, too, bracing herself for yet another rejection. “Maybe we could - I don’t know - try something?”
Rachel’s head snaps up. “Try something?”
Quinn’s blush seems to intensify, if that’s even humanly possible. Rachel thinks she looks like she’s desperately trying and failing to put up her usual façade of bravado. Quinn mumbles something so quietly Rachel’s sure she’d need hearing aids to comprehend it.
“Could you maybe--”
“We could kiss,” Quinn whispers. She sighs, a short, impatient sounding huff. She pushes her hair out of her face, frowns, and suddenly she’s Quinn Fabray again, the head Cheerio who isn’t nervous around Rachel Berry unless she’s wondering if a teacher saw that last slushie attack. “Let’s kiss,” she states. “Follow me.”
Rachel feels like she’s slipped into one of the better dreams she’s been having lately, and she follows Quinn into the empty music room in a haze.
“Come here,” Quinn instructs, and, well, if Quinn taking control of the situation means Rachel gets to finally kiss her, then she’s more than okay with that.
Rachel moves to stand in front of Quinn slowly; her knees feel like they’ve been replaced with jell-o.
“If this is bad,” Quinn says, “we’re never going to speak of it again. Understood?” Rachel can only nod at this point. Her brain is simply emitting bursts of oh my God and this is going to happen.
Quinn steps closer to Rachel, and she’s so close now that Rachel could count her eyelashes if she wanted to, and wow, she smells so good, and her lips are right there, if she just leans in-
Quinn closes the gap between them first, her lips pressing tentatively against Rachel’s.
Rachel moans, she can’t help it, and immediately pulls back in embarrassment. Quinn rolls her eyes, grabs Rachel’s waist and tugs her forward again until they’re kissing, actually kissing, and Rachel thinks her brain is going to explode.
Everything is different with Quinn in the best way possible; her lips are so soft and the warm skin of her thumbs is smooth as they rub circles against her hips. Quinn slides her tongue along Rachel’s lower lip and then their tongues are fighting, just the way they fight, and it’s so amazing that Rachel pushes harder against Quinn, into Quinn, until she’s walking the blonde backwards into the wall.
Quinn pulls away, gasping, says, “This isn’t bad,” in a breathless voice that makes Rachel ache everywhere, so Rachel does the only logical thing and kisses her again, and again.
“Maybe more?” Rachel breathes tentatively when she finds the strength to remove her lips from Quinn’s. Quinn only nods, but Rachel sees it as a very enthusiastic nod and it gives her the courage to trail her hand from its spot on Quinn’s stomach to her waistband.
Rachel runs her fingertips along the inside band of Quinn’s underwear and stops when she hears a sharp intake of breath.
“Keep going,” Quinn murmurs, blushing, but she looks Rachel in the eye and grabs her wrist like she’s got something to prove.
Rachel lets Quinn move her hand down, and then all her mind registers is hot and wet and she’s so pleased that she did this, that she turned on Quinn Fabray, that she smiles. Quinn’s face looks torn between aroused and annoyed and she slides her own hand down Rachel’s skirt, into her underwear without warning.
“Not smiling anymore,” Quinn breathes, her fingers slicking up and down and around and Rachel thinks this might even be better than winning a Grammy. “Keep up, Berry,” Quinn mutters, and Rachel realizes she’s been frozen ever since Quinn touched her, so she mimics Quinn’s fingers and watches as the blonde’s eyes close.
Quinn’s hand slips around until she finds Rachel’s entrance and before Rachel can process what’s going on, Quinn has two fingers inside of her and it feels so good Rachel’s sure she’s going to combust.
She leans her head against Quinn’s shoulder, moving her fingers haphazardly against the blonde because she just cannot concentrate when Quinn’s fingers are moving in her like that.
“Come on,” Quinn says, repeats, “keep up,” and Rachel bites her lip - hard - and focuses and slips two fingers into Quinn, curling them, and suddenly they find a rhythm and it escalates to where Rachel is panting into Quinn’s neck and Quinn’s free hand is grabbing Rachel’s hip bruisingly hard.
“Quinn,” Rachel breathes, because it’s all she can say at this point, and Quinn twists her fingers just so and Rachel’s coming, finally, crying out, her teeth digging into Quinn’s neck in a way that makes the blonde shudder and come around Rachel’s fingers.
When Rachel comes down, she realizes she’s leaning heavily against Quinn and pushes off the wall until she stumbles backward into a chair. Quinn slides down the wall and sits, head titled back, still breathing heavily.
“Well,” Rachel says, still breathless herself, “that was definitely worth trying.”
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn
Word Count: 2420
Rating: R/NC-17
Summary: How Rachel Berry seduced Quinn Fabray with two plans and a music room.
Spoilers: All aired episodes, to be safe.
Notes: Inspired by a ficlet I wrote for Moments. Number three, to be specific. Title courtesy of The Beatles.
Rachel used to firmly believe that the worst feeling in the world is hitting a foul note while singing a solo. Particularly if said solo is sung in front of an audience, although she still feels swooping disappointment when she botches a note with only her hairbrush as a witness.
This belief didn’t change until Rachel realized she wanted Quinn Fabray. Like, wanted her. In a decidedly sexual manner.
Now, Rachel firmly believes that the worst feeling in the world is unrequited lust, because as she sits here, watching Quinn laugh with Brittany and Tina in the corner of the music room, she isn’t thinking about octaves and timing as she should.
She’s imagining doing things with Quinn, things she never thought she’d think about in conjunction with another girl.
Quinn throws her head back in laughter, exposing her long neck, and Rachel would like nothing more than to suck on said neck until it’s bruised and marked as hers.
Rachel just wants her, so badly, too much, the way she wants everything else in life.
---
After numerous glee club rehearsals and countless hours of home practice sessions gone to waste thanks to her mind constantly wandering to various scenarios involving herself and Quinn, Rachel decides she needs to Do Something - capital letters necessary. It has to be a big Something, after all, if she’s going to get Quinn to agree to even look at her without snarling.
She leans her forehead against her closed locker, exhaling deeply, wondering how on earth she’s going to begin. If only she could have these feelings for Puck again. A simple, “Do you want to make out?” would be everything needed to solve her problems.
Rachel’s confident that walking up to Quinn Fabray and asking her if she wants to make out would result in a black eye. Possibly something worse.
She sighs once more and heads to glee rehearsal, where the sight of Quinn arguing with Finn in not-so-hushed tones greets her.
“…not going to say it again,” Quinn hisses. She turns and stalks away from Finn, crossing her arms so tightly across her chest that Rachel wonders if her muscles ache.
Quinn drops into a chair in the corner of the front row, staring straight ahead. Her face is flushed, her lower lip caught tightly between her teeth, and she’s just so beautiful, even in anger - possibly especially in anger, Rachel thinks, as she remembers several of their showdowns - that Rachel feels a jolt of arousal right there in the middle of the music room. What if Rachel was the one causing Quinn’s face to flush as she grabbed the back of the blonde’s neck and kissed her until they couldn’t breathe, what if it was her teeth nipping at Quinn’s full lower lip--
Rachel shakes her head slightly and takes a deep breath. She needs to focus; this is glee practice, not fantasyland. Rehearsals are more important than ever these days. Unfortunately (or fortunately, she hasn’t yet made up her mind, to be truthful), she’s distracted again as Puck crosses in front of her as he approaches Quinn, takes one look at her expression and silently changes course to a seat in the second row.
This isn’t the time! Rachel’s brain tells her, but her body is already moving toward Quinn seemingly of its own will. She sits in the chair next to the blonde, making as little noise as possible as she gathers her sheet music.
Rachel wants to keep her head down - Quinn is obviously not in the mood for anything - but the thing is, ever since Rachel realized she wanted Quinn, her eyes have been drawn to her through some sort of hormonal magnetic pull.
She dares to sneak a glimpse to the right, expecting to see the side of the other girl’s head, and nearly jumps out of her seat when she finds herself unexpectedly face-to-face with a glaring Quinn.
“Need something, Streisand?” Quinn sneers.
Rachel sighs.
This is going to be more difficult than she previously imagined.
---
A plan has been formed. Well, something with a resemblance to a plan.
Rachel is positive that her and Quinn’s interactions are at their best in the music room, ignoring a few barbs here and there. She is going to corner Quinn - no, that sounds crazy - she is going to ask Quinn to stay behind after today’s rehearsal.
She will confess her attraction in a straightforward, concise manner to avoid any miscommunication.
She will be ready to dodge any incoming punches.
It is going to be all right.
She thinks.
She hopes.
---
“Please,” Rachel says as Quinn continues to pack her music into her bag. Maybe Quinn didn’t hear her over the general scuffle of everyone leaving the music room. “I’d like to speak to you. Just for a few minutes,” she continues, hating how utterly formal she sounds. She’d much prefer a more casual approach, but her nerves are currently getting the best of her.
“I heard you the first time,” Quinn mutters. She turns to Rachel, one eyebrow arched, face completely unreadable. They stand that way, in an awkward silence, waiting for Artie and Tina to exit the room last. The sound of the door swinging shut seems extra loud in the sudden calm of the room.
“So. Talk.”
Rachel clears her throat. Quinn rolls her eyes, says, “Is this some sort of speech?”
Rachel ignores that. Her hands are slightly sweaty and shaking. This is ridiculous. They’re in the music room; this is Rachel’s territory. She clears her throat again - Quinn stays silent this time - and says, “I’ve developed feelings for you. An attraction. To you.”
There. Concise, honest, no room for interpretation.
Quinn’s mask of vague annoyance abruptly slips away at Rachel’s words. She’s just standing there, lips parted, blinking down at the brunette.
Right as Rachel starts to worry - maybe she shouldn’t have just dropped a bombshell like this onto a pregnant girl - Quinn seems to compose herself. She lets out a familiar half-laugh of disbelief.
“You have feelings for me, Berry?” she scoffs. “Are you serious? Since when?”
“Yes, I’m serious,” Rachel replies tentatively. She’s reasonably certain that Quinn is not going to punch her in the face, but it’s probably best to approach this with extreme caution. “For a while.”
“This has to be a joke. You’re trying to make me look stupid in front of Finn.” Quinn looks around wildly as if she’s expecting Finn to leap out from behind the piano.
Rachel steps forward and reaches out to grab Quinn’s wrist, but backs down at the last second, dropping her arm to her side.
“I’m serious,” Rachel repeats, her voice growing as her confidence increases with every moment that Quinn doesn’t bolt from the room. “I just needed you to know. I believe the potential consequences of telling you are worth the relief of not keeping everything inside.”
Quinn’s face has returned to the shocked look from before. Rachel thinks she might have actually stunned the blonde into silence, for real this time.
Quinn turns and heads for the exit and Rachel’s heart drops as crushing disappointment settles in. She can’t help but watch Quinn as she walks away, even though her vision is starting to blur thanks to the traitorous tears forming in her eyes. Rachel swipes at them furiously and blinks in surprise when she realizes Quinn has stopped at the door, one hand on the handle, the other braced on the nearby wall.
She doesn’t turn to face Rachel when she speaks.
“It’s a lot to think about,” Quinn murmurs. Her voice is lower than Rachel’s ever heard it before, and there’s something there that she can’t label. The blonde’s shoulders suddenly straighten and she whips around to glare at Rachel. “You shouldn’t just drop something like that on people,” she spits, and her voice is definitely strange. She looks angry, but something’s off, like she’s simply trying to look angry instead of truly feeling it.
“I’m sorry about the way I told you,” Rachel says slowly, carefully.
Quinn nods curtly. She leaves without saying another word.
---
Two days pass.
Rachel discovers that Quinn is rather adept at avoiding people.
She also forms Plan B.
---
Rachel lifts the corner of her skirt high enough to show thigh to Jacob in the AV room.
He promises to knock Quinn’s books out of her arms and make enough of a mess to delay her in the hallway.
It’s slightly more complicated than Plan A, but Quinn can disappear like a teenage pregnant secret agent when she needs to, and Rachel is about to go completely crazy if they don’t at least talk soon.
---
“Oh, God, s-sorry!” Jacob stammers. He shuffles around, effectively scattering Quinn’s textbooks and notebooks around the hall.
Rachel swoops in, nods at Jacob and says, “I’ll help her; just tell Mr. Schuester we’ll be late.” Jacob gives her a thumbs up behind Quinn’s back as he scuttles down the corridor toward the Spanish classrooms.
“Hey,” she murmurs to Quinn, who is blushing furiously and pushing her belongings into a haphazard pile. “Allow me.”
Rachel expertly gathers Quinn’s property into a neat stack and hands it to her with a smile. “It’s one of the hockey team’s favorite pastimes.”
Quinn lets out a small, surprised laugh that makes Rachel’s pulse rate rise.
“Thanks,” Quinn says, finally meeting Rachel’s eyes. She looks down before she adds, “I’ve been thinking about what you said.” Rachel looks toward the floor, too, bracing herself for yet another rejection. “Maybe we could - I don’t know - try something?”
Rachel’s head snaps up. “Try something?”
Quinn’s blush seems to intensify, if that’s even humanly possible. Rachel thinks she looks like she’s desperately trying and failing to put up her usual façade of bravado. Quinn mumbles something so quietly Rachel’s sure she’d need hearing aids to comprehend it.
“Could you maybe--”
“We could kiss,” Quinn whispers. She sighs, a short, impatient sounding huff. She pushes her hair out of her face, frowns, and suddenly she’s Quinn Fabray again, the head Cheerio who isn’t nervous around Rachel Berry unless she’s wondering if a teacher saw that last slushie attack. “Let’s kiss,” she states. “Follow me.”
Rachel feels like she’s slipped into one of the better dreams she’s been having lately, and she follows Quinn into the empty music room in a haze.
“Come here,” Quinn instructs, and, well, if Quinn taking control of the situation means Rachel gets to finally kiss her, then she’s more than okay with that.
Rachel moves to stand in front of Quinn slowly; her knees feel like they’ve been replaced with jell-o.
“If this is bad,” Quinn says, “we’re never going to speak of it again. Understood?” Rachel can only nod at this point. Her brain is simply emitting bursts of oh my God and this is going to happen.
Quinn steps closer to Rachel, and she’s so close now that Rachel could count her eyelashes if she wanted to, and wow, she smells so good, and her lips are right there, if she just leans in-
Quinn closes the gap between them first, her lips pressing tentatively against Rachel’s.
Rachel moans, she can’t help it, and immediately pulls back in embarrassment. Quinn rolls her eyes, grabs Rachel’s waist and tugs her forward again until they’re kissing, actually kissing, and Rachel thinks her brain is going to explode.
Everything is different with Quinn in the best way possible; her lips are so soft and the warm skin of her thumbs is smooth as they rub circles against her hips. Quinn slides her tongue along Rachel’s lower lip and then their tongues are fighting, just the way they fight, and it’s so amazing that Rachel pushes harder against Quinn, into Quinn, until she’s walking the blonde backwards into the wall.
Quinn pulls away, gasping, says, “This isn’t bad,” in a breathless voice that makes Rachel ache everywhere, so Rachel does the only logical thing and kisses her again, and again.
“Maybe more?” Rachel breathes tentatively when she finds the strength to remove her lips from Quinn’s. Quinn only nods, but Rachel sees it as a very enthusiastic nod and it gives her the courage to trail her hand from its spot on Quinn’s stomach to her waistband.
Rachel runs her fingertips along the inside band of Quinn’s underwear and stops when she hears a sharp intake of breath.
“Keep going,” Quinn murmurs, blushing, but she looks Rachel in the eye and grabs her wrist like she’s got something to prove.
Rachel lets Quinn move her hand down, and then all her mind registers is hot and wet and she’s so pleased that she did this, that she turned on Quinn Fabray, that she smiles. Quinn’s face looks torn between aroused and annoyed and she slides her own hand down Rachel’s skirt, into her underwear without warning.
“Not smiling anymore,” Quinn breathes, her fingers slicking up and down and around and Rachel thinks this might even be better than winning a Grammy. “Keep up, Berry,” Quinn mutters, and Rachel realizes she’s been frozen ever since Quinn touched her, so she mimics Quinn’s fingers and watches as the blonde’s eyes close.
Quinn’s hand slips around until she finds Rachel’s entrance and before Rachel can process what’s going on, Quinn has two fingers inside of her and it feels so good Rachel’s sure she’s going to combust.
She leans her head against Quinn’s shoulder, moving her fingers haphazardly against the blonde because she just cannot concentrate when Quinn’s fingers are moving in her like that.
“Come on,” Quinn says, repeats, “keep up,” and Rachel bites her lip - hard - and focuses and slips two fingers into Quinn, curling them, and suddenly they find a rhythm and it escalates to where Rachel is panting into Quinn’s neck and Quinn’s free hand is grabbing Rachel’s hip bruisingly hard.
“Quinn,” Rachel breathes, because it’s all she can say at this point, and Quinn twists her fingers just so and Rachel’s coming, finally, crying out, her teeth digging into Quinn’s neck in a way that makes the blonde shudder and come around Rachel’s fingers.
When Rachel comes down, she realizes she’s leaning heavily against Quinn and pushes off the wall until she stumbles backward into a chair. Quinn slides down the wall and sits, head titled back, still breathing heavily.
“Well,” Rachel says, still breathless herself, “that was definitely worth trying.”