Fic: This is How it Works
Title: This is How it Works
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn
Rating: NC-17
Length: 2755
Spoilers: None (maybe Ballads vaguely)
Summary: Quinn wants to surprise Rachel for her birthday.
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters. I just like to make them do silly things.
A/N: Be prepared for unabashed dorkiness ahead. You were warned. Also, there is a LOT of exposition in this one. I wanted it to just be a really simple, silly fic, but then I went and gave them history. *sigh* Fail. There are several pop culture references in this. So I apologize if not all of it makes sense. But if it doesn’t, you should watch those movies. Because they are awesome.
It started with a plan. Rachel’s birthday was coming up. New York had been their home for almost eight months now, and they both had been dealing with increasingly hectic schedules. It wasn’t exactly what Quinn had expected, despite Rachel’s warnings when they had planned the move. Quinn got her acceptance letter Columbia a few weeks following Rachel’s audition at Juilliard. Two weeks after that, Rachel had greeted Quinn at the door. She tackled the girl who was arriving home from Cheerios practice, acceptance from Juilliard clutched tightly in hand. Quinn had been grateful the singer’s parents were still at work, because the excitement proved great enough that Rachel tore their clothes off as they moved down the hall-toward the room they had shared since Quinn’s parents kicked her out during their sophomore year. Garments forgotten, leaving a trail to their bedroom, well, it had been a great afternoon.
But now that their lives were in New York, Quinn realized how difficult things could be. Rachel had quickly adapted to a Bohemian lifestyle, more than happy to live in squalor-Quinn’s words, not Rachel’s-as long as she could be in her city. And that was what she called it. It was her city, no matter how many times Quinn reminded her that she was relatively new to the area. Quinn hated their tiny apartment. It was on the seventh floor of their walkup, and the only redeeming quality she could find was that it was in Chelsea, and she loved the surroundings.
School and work kept them busy. Quinn was pre-law at Columbia, and also worked twenty hours each week trying to make ends meet. She worked the early shift at a café, five to eight each morning during the week, and she would rush to her eight-thirty class directly after. On Saturdays, she’d work five to ten, getting home just in time to give Rachel a sleepy kiss as the other girl ran out the door for her double shift at a nearby restaurant. Quinn would usually drop by midway through Rachel’s shift, bringing her some dinner. They’d eat together quickly before Rachel returned to work and Quinn went home or to the library to study. Sunday was their only day together, and they fought hard to keep it. They spent most of it curled up together in bed, studying and recovering from their busy week before jumping right back into it on Monday.
On rare occasions, they took the time to explore the city. Those were Quinn’s favorite days. Rachel had spent many vacations in New York when she was growing up, but Quinn had only been there once before they moved-for Rachel’s audition. They would get up early (Quinn was used to it, and she always tricked Rachel into it with promises of coffee and kisses), and then plan out their day. Sometimes they’d just head up to Central Park, wandering over to Strawberry Fields. Rachel once told Quinn that was where she wanted her proposal to be. She was very subtle that way. In the early fall, Quinn had convinced her to go out on the Lake in a paddleboat. They had floated around, Quinn’s head finding a comfortable home in the crook of Rachel’s neck. That was the day Quinn had decided even though her pest-friendly, miniature studio apartment drove her crazy… even though they had to save every penny for food and rent and school… there was nowhere she’d rather be. Rachel took her to the Cloisters, they walked through the Met, they hung out in the Village, they found cozy restaurants they fell in love with… they loved life.
This Sunday, however, Quinn had something special planned. It was Rachel’s nineteenth birthday, and with the amount of stress they had both been living with lately, Quinn really wanted to surprise her girlfriend. She had done quite a bit of research in the weeks leading up to it, and she had even made a reservation for dinner at their favorite restaurant, Becco. She knew Rachel would be excited. She allowed the tired girl to sleep in, making her breakfast in bed (not that it was out of the ordinary-they had limited furniture) around nine. Quinn slid under the covers, kissing a line down Rachel’s spine to wake her. The brunette had assumed she had been woken for a different type of meal, but she hid her disappointment well when she saw the fresh fruit, waffles and coffee.
Finishing up her coffee, Rachel put the empty mug next to her on the nightstand. “That was delicious,” she smiled beatifically at Quinn.
“I’m glad you liked it,” Quinn replied, leaning in to steal a kiss. “Happy birthday, babe.”
Rachel let out a little whine of frustration when Quinn hopped off the bed and headed to their small bathroom. “Where are you going?”
Quinn tossed a grin over her shoulder, “To shower. We have a big day ahead of us.”
Rachel buried her head in her pillow, wondering how she didn’t get a choice when it was her birthday. Then she realized it might have been an invitation. She padded over to the bathroom, the cool floor biting through her socks. She snuck into the bathroom, discarding her clothes unceremoniously on the tiles. Climbing carefully into their cramped shower, she slid her arms around Quinn’s waist, soaking in her girlfriend’s warmth. She hummed happily when Quinn’s arm reached back, pulling her head forward for a kiss. She was pleased she had guessed correctly, and it had indeed been an invitation.
Several hours later, they had to take another shower. Quinn insisted it had to be separately, or they might miss their dinner reservation. They moved around their place in a well-rehearsed dance as they got ready for their night out. Rachel got dressed while Quinn curled her hair, coming up behind the blonde girl and kissing her shoulder when she reached for her brush. It was an easy rhythm, and Quinn was grateful that they had grown together in a way that allowed for it.
She still threw tantrums when she saw a cockroach, swearing that was it, she was moving home. Rachel just came over and killed it, carefully avoiding the explanation of how common the creatures actually were, that they were probably never far from one. Rachel could deal with it. This was her dream. Okay, not the roaches, not the other vermin that she saw littering the streets, but the city. The school. The theater. She was not going to back down, and a roach was not going to stand in her way. Quinn recognized the drive in her girlfriend, and wasn’t actually going anywhere, but she did invest in giant sized canisters of Raid-ignoring Rachel’s arguments that it wasn’t good for them to be breathing those chemicals in.
They still argued over silly things, and Rachel still got carried away when she felt her performance might be anything less than stellar. It meant a lot of practice, and Quinn was sure that if Rachel wasn’t so talented, they would have had the cops called on them more than once. Instead, the other tenants simply requested that she keep it to normal waking hours. Rachel tried to remind them they lived in a city that never sleeps, but Quinn dragged her away before they could incur the wrath of angry neighbors, assuring them that Rachel would of course keep it to normal hours. That week Rachel stayed at school late every night, and because Quinn was up by four in the morning, they didn’t see each other (awake) the rest of the week. On Friday, Rachel crawled into bed just past midnight, and Quinn had been asleep for a while already. She snuggled into her girlfriend, whispering an apology for being cranky all week, and no, it wasn’t too much to ask that she keep her voice down at night. Quinn just patted the arm draped around her, sleepily acknowledging Rachel’s words by tugging her closer.
They didn’t go out to eat a lot, as they couldn’t afford it, so they both made a little bit of an extra effort to look their best, even though Becco wasn’t upscale. The food was just delicious. After they ate and their appetites were thoroughly sated, they decided to walk over the couple of blocks to the theater district. They didn’t go over there a lot-too many tourists that close to Times Square, you could barely move through the throngs of people-but Quinn thought it would be worth it that night. She grabbed Rachel’s hand, twirling her playfully.
“One day, Ms. Berry,” she whispered into Rachel’s ear when she pulled her close, “I’m going to see your name up there.” She pointed to one of the signs plastering the walls of the buildings all around them. Quinn kissed Rachel’s cheek, “I’ll be so excited to come see you on stage.” She grinned, “And then we’ll have sex backstage.”
“Will you defend us if we get arrested for indecent exposure?”
“I don’t know that I’ll be able to afford it.”
Rachel chuckled, linking their arms as they walked to the subway.
“What are you doing, Quinn?”
Quinn rolled her eyes. That was the third time Rachel had asked that question in the prior five minutes. “I already told you.”
“You told me to stop asking questions.”
“Exactly.”
Quinn didn’t bother suppressing a grin when she heard the dramatic sigh on the other side of the bathroom door. She was nearly ready. She checked her reflection in the mirror, adjusting her outfit carefully. She quickly scanned the picture she had printed out, looking back at the mirror. Everything looked to be in the correct place. She grabbed her robe, drawing it on and calling out to her impatient girlfriend, “Are you in bed?”
“I have been for the past twenty minutes.”
“It’s only been ten, stop it.” Quinn flicked off the light in the bathroom, opening the door slowly. She smiled softly, taking in the flickering of the candles Rachel had lit. The brunette knew how much Quinn loved the soft glow of candlelight. Unable to help herself she smirked, “And just what do you think is going to be happening here that would require candles?”
Rachel squirmed in the bed, clad only in her matching black bra and underwear. “Stop teasing me, Quinn. It’s my birthday. And I sure as hell hope something is going to happen. You were in there getting ready long enough.” Quinn moved closer, and Rachel could see it. Her hair was in a single braid that draped just over her right shoulder. “You were doing your hair? Really?”
Quinn laughed quietly, “Among other things, yes.” She stood at the end of the bed and let the robe slip from her shoulders. “Help me, Rachel Berry. You’re my only hope.”
Rachel would have loved to explain to Quinn that she was jumbling the movies, she really would have, but since she had forgotten her own name, she couldn’t really feel the guilt over allowing her girlfriend to mix up a line from A New Hope with an outfit from Return of the Jedi. She apparently had also forgotten how to breathe. And perhaps had lost feeling in her legs. She couldn’t really tell, because Quinn was standing a few feet away from her, dressed in that. Rachel’s eyes glazed over as she stared, taking in the bronze bra and underwear combo. Sheer burgundy material between Quinn’s thighs drifted majestically down to the floor from the bikini bottom. She hadn’t even forgotten the armband, it was wrapped high up on her left bicep, and the bracelet was on her right wrist. Rachel’s mouth opened and closed uselessly.
Quinn smiled, sheepish. “Did I break you?” She rounded the bed, moving to Rachel’s side.
It might have been the minute she had to catch her breath, it might have been the proximity, or it might have just been that she’d wanted this for so long, but Rachel didn’t waste another second. She grabbed Quinn, rolling the blonde over her own body until she was laying on top of the object of many fantasies. “Ouch!” She bounced back quickly, rubbing her hipbone that was surely going to have a bruise. “It’s real metal?”
“Well, yeah. I didn’t want to skimp on your fantasy, babe.” Quinn’s hand covered Rachel’s, “You okay?”
Rachel frowned, this was not exactly how she expected it to go. She shook it off with a reassuring smile, “I’m fine.” She moved back toward Quinn, kissing her slowly and allowing her hands to roam the miles of skin this fantastic outfit provided.
This time Quinn was the one who cried out, “Owww.” She pushed Rachel off of her.
“What? What is it?”
“It’s pinching me,” Quinn replied, her voice quiet.
Okay, this definitely was not going how she would ever have imagined it, but Rachel tried to rationalize it. She certainly wanted Quinn out of her clothes. So really, no problem. Or so she thought.
“It’s in the back. No. Not there. Over here.”
Rachel groaned, fed up. “I feel like I’m actually stuck in a nightmare. This is not how I dreamed of this happening. I feel like Cary Elwes.”
Quinn laughed, despite the fact they were having trouble removing the offending articles of clothing. “Truuuuuuue looooooove,” she quoted with a smile.
“No, not Princess Bride. I was talking about Men In Tights.”
“Oh.” Quinn paused, “That makes much more sense. Because of the chastity belt.”
“Yes, I know.”
The blonde continued, “But you can’t really blame me. He’s in multiple movies with princesses.” She chuckled again, to herself mostly, “My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepa-”
“Stop it. You’re mixing up all these movies and you’re dressed up like super hot Leia and I can’t undress you,” Rachel whined.
Her girlfriend’s pout was pitiful, but Quinn couldn’t resist one last line. “As you wish.”
Rachel glared and scooted away. She curled onto her side, crossing her arms and facing away from Quinn. She could hear metal clinking and felt the bed shift.
“Aw, come on, Rach. You know that means ‘I love you.’ You can’t be mad at me for that.”
“Hmph.”
The bed shifted again as Quinn pressed up against her back. Rachel managed to suppress the shudder that threatened when she felt all of her girlfriend pressed against her-no more barriers. Quinn kissed her shoulder. Then she blew a raspberry in the same spot. “Stop being pouty. I’m naked. You’re supposed to ravage me now.”
“Maybe we lost the mood,” Rachel countered, still pouting.
“Speak for yourself,” Quinn muttered. “You look hot in that underwear. I want to take it off you now.” She let her fingers dance over sensitive skin moving up the plane of Rachel’s stomach, up and under the swell of Rachel’s breasts. Rachel squirmed again, and Quinn pulled her hand away, moving to the bra clasp in front of her and unhooking it. “Please?” She moved the strap off of the free shoulder, allowing her hand to follow it, palm brushing over a responsive nipple. She heard Rachel try to hold back a moan, and pounced on it, moving her lips to her girlfriend’s neck and sucking gently while tweaking the tight nipple between her index finger and thumb. Rachel moaned loudly, and rolled onto her back, pulling the bra off completely.
“You win,” she gasped before catching Quinn’s bottom lip between her teeth, nibbling on it. She looked up at Quinn, “The braid is still kind of hot.”
Quinn laughed, kissing her deeper. Hands roamed, drawing out low groans and quiet cries of pleasure (they had promised the neighbors after all). They got lost in each other, their bodies moving as one until they tumbled over the edge together.
Quinn nuzzled into Rachel’s neck, kissing the soft skin as they started to drift into slumber. The next day was back to school, back to work, back to the grind of life.
“You need to work on your pop culture references, babe,” Rachel mumbled sleepily.
The blonde girl grinned into Rachel’s neck, murmuring into her skin, “I know them all, Rach. You’re just too much fun to tease.”
“Jerk.”
“Inconceivable.”
“Watch it, or I won’t battle the rodents of unusual sizes anymore.”
Quinn whispered back, “You’re just cranky because I didn’t wear the chain around my neck. Kinky, Berry. Very kinky.”
Rachel gave up with a sigh. “You win,” she repeated.
originally posted at rachel_quinn
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn
Rating: NC-17
Length: 2755
Spoilers: None (maybe Ballads vaguely)
Summary: Quinn wants to surprise Rachel for her birthday.
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters. I just like to make them do silly things.
A/N: Be prepared for unabashed dorkiness ahead. You were warned. Also, there is a LOT of exposition in this one. I wanted it to just be a really simple, silly fic, but then I went and gave them history. *sigh* Fail. There are several pop culture references in this. So I apologize if not all of it makes sense. But if it doesn’t, you should watch those movies. Because they are awesome.
It started with a plan. Rachel’s birthday was coming up. New York had been their home for almost eight months now, and they both had been dealing with increasingly hectic schedules. It wasn’t exactly what Quinn had expected, despite Rachel’s warnings when they had planned the move. Quinn got her acceptance letter Columbia a few weeks following Rachel’s audition at Juilliard. Two weeks after that, Rachel had greeted Quinn at the door. She tackled the girl who was arriving home from Cheerios practice, acceptance from Juilliard clutched tightly in hand. Quinn had been grateful the singer’s parents were still at work, because the excitement proved great enough that Rachel tore their clothes off as they moved down the hall-toward the room they had shared since Quinn’s parents kicked her out during their sophomore year. Garments forgotten, leaving a trail to their bedroom, well, it had been a great afternoon.
But now that their lives were in New York, Quinn realized how difficult things could be. Rachel had quickly adapted to a Bohemian lifestyle, more than happy to live in squalor-Quinn’s words, not Rachel’s-as long as she could be in her city. And that was what she called it. It was her city, no matter how many times Quinn reminded her that she was relatively new to the area. Quinn hated their tiny apartment. It was on the seventh floor of their walkup, and the only redeeming quality she could find was that it was in Chelsea, and she loved the surroundings.
School and work kept them busy. Quinn was pre-law at Columbia, and also worked twenty hours each week trying to make ends meet. She worked the early shift at a café, five to eight each morning during the week, and she would rush to her eight-thirty class directly after. On Saturdays, she’d work five to ten, getting home just in time to give Rachel a sleepy kiss as the other girl ran out the door for her double shift at a nearby restaurant. Quinn would usually drop by midway through Rachel’s shift, bringing her some dinner. They’d eat together quickly before Rachel returned to work and Quinn went home or to the library to study. Sunday was their only day together, and they fought hard to keep it. They spent most of it curled up together in bed, studying and recovering from their busy week before jumping right back into it on Monday.
On rare occasions, they took the time to explore the city. Those were Quinn’s favorite days. Rachel had spent many vacations in New York when she was growing up, but Quinn had only been there once before they moved-for Rachel’s audition. They would get up early (Quinn was used to it, and she always tricked Rachel into it with promises of coffee and kisses), and then plan out their day. Sometimes they’d just head up to Central Park, wandering over to Strawberry Fields. Rachel once told Quinn that was where she wanted her proposal to be. She was very subtle that way. In the early fall, Quinn had convinced her to go out on the Lake in a paddleboat. They had floated around, Quinn’s head finding a comfortable home in the crook of Rachel’s neck. That was the day Quinn had decided even though her pest-friendly, miniature studio apartment drove her crazy… even though they had to save every penny for food and rent and school… there was nowhere she’d rather be. Rachel took her to the Cloisters, they walked through the Met, they hung out in the Village, they found cozy restaurants they fell in love with… they loved life.
This Sunday, however, Quinn had something special planned. It was Rachel’s nineteenth birthday, and with the amount of stress they had both been living with lately, Quinn really wanted to surprise her girlfriend. She had done quite a bit of research in the weeks leading up to it, and she had even made a reservation for dinner at their favorite restaurant, Becco. She knew Rachel would be excited. She allowed the tired girl to sleep in, making her breakfast in bed (not that it was out of the ordinary-they had limited furniture) around nine. Quinn slid under the covers, kissing a line down Rachel’s spine to wake her. The brunette had assumed she had been woken for a different type of meal, but she hid her disappointment well when she saw the fresh fruit, waffles and coffee.
Finishing up her coffee, Rachel put the empty mug next to her on the nightstand. “That was delicious,” she smiled beatifically at Quinn.
“I’m glad you liked it,” Quinn replied, leaning in to steal a kiss. “Happy birthday, babe.”
Rachel let out a little whine of frustration when Quinn hopped off the bed and headed to their small bathroom. “Where are you going?”
Quinn tossed a grin over her shoulder, “To shower. We have a big day ahead of us.”
Rachel buried her head in her pillow, wondering how she didn’t get a choice when it was her birthday. Then she realized it might have been an invitation. She padded over to the bathroom, the cool floor biting through her socks. She snuck into the bathroom, discarding her clothes unceremoniously on the tiles. Climbing carefully into their cramped shower, she slid her arms around Quinn’s waist, soaking in her girlfriend’s warmth. She hummed happily when Quinn’s arm reached back, pulling her head forward for a kiss. She was pleased she had guessed correctly, and it had indeed been an invitation.
Several hours later, they had to take another shower. Quinn insisted it had to be separately, or they might miss their dinner reservation. They moved around their place in a well-rehearsed dance as they got ready for their night out. Rachel got dressed while Quinn curled her hair, coming up behind the blonde girl and kissing her shoulder when she reached for her brush. It was an easy rhythm, and Quinn was grateful that they had grown together in a way that allowed for it.
She still threw tantrums when she saw a cockroach, swearing that was it, she was moving home. Rachel just came over and killed it, carefully avoiding the explanation of how common the creatures actually were, that they were probably never far from one. Rachel could deal with it. This was her dream. Okay, not the roaches, not the other vermin that she saw littering the streets, but the city. The school. The theater. She was not going to back down, and a roach was not going to stand in her way. Quinn recognized the drive in her girlfriend, and wasn’t actually going anywhere, but she did invest in giant sized canisters of Raid-ignoring Rachel’s arguments that it wasn’t good for them to be breathing those chemicals in.
They still argued over silly things, and Rachel still got carried away when she felt her performance might be anything less than stellar. It meant a lot of practice, and Quinn was sure that if Rachel wasn’t so talented, they would have had the cops called on them more than once. Instead, the other tenants simply requested that she keep it to normal waking hours. Rachel tried to remind them they lived in a city that never sleeps, but Quinn dragged her away before they could incur the wrath of angry neighbors, assuring them that Rachel would of course keep it to normal hours. That week Rachel stayed at school late every night, and because Quinn was up by four in the morning, they didn’t see each other (awake) the rest of the week. On Friday, Rachel crawled into bed just past midnight, and Quinn had been asleep for a while already. She snuggled into her girlfriend, whispering an apology for being cranky all week, and no, it wasn’t too much to ask that she keep her voice down at night. Quinn just patted the arm draped around her, sleepily acknowledging Rachel’s words by tugging her closer.
They didn’t go out to eat a lot, as they couldn’t afford it, so they both made a little bit of an extra effort to look their best, even though Becco wasn’t upscale. The food was just delicious. After they ate and their appetites were thoroughly sated, they decided to walk over the couple of blocks to the theater district. They didn’t go over there a lot-too many tourists that close to Times Square, you could barely move through the throngs of people-but Quinn thought it would be worth it that night. She grabbed Rachel’s hand, twirling her playfully.
“One day, Ms. Berry,” she whispered into Rachel’s ear when she pulled her close, “I’m going to see your name up there.” She pointed to one of the signs plastering the walls of the buildings all around them. Quinn kissed Rachel’s cheek, “I’ll be so excited to come see you on stage.” She grinned, “And then we’ll have sex backstage.”
“Will you defend us if we get arrested for indecent exposure?”
“I don’t know that I’ll be able to afford it.”
Rachel chuckled, linking their arms as they walked to the subway.
“What are you doing, Quinn?”
Quinn rolled her eyes. That was the third time Rachel had asked that question in the prior five minutes. “I already told you.”
“You told me to stop asking questions.”
“Exactly.”
Quinn didn’t bother suppressing a grin when she heard the dramatic sigh on the other side of the bathroom door. She was nearly ready. She checked her reflection in the mirror, adjusting her outfit carefully. She quickly scanned the picture she had printed out, looking back at the mirror. Everything looked to be in the correct place. She grabbed her robe, drawing it on and calling out to her impatient girlfriend, “Are you in bed?”
“I have been for the past twenty minutes.”
“It’s only been ten, stop it.” Quinn flicked off the light in the bathroom, opening the door slowly. She smiled softly, taking in the flickering of the candles Rachel had lit. The brunette knew how much Quinn loved the soft glow of candlelight. Unable to help herself she smirked, “And just what do you think is going to be happening here that would require candles?”
Rachel squirmed in the bed, clad only in her matching black bra and underwear. “Stop teasing me, Quinn. It’s my birthday. And I sure as hell hope something is going to happen. You were in there getting ready long enough.” Quinn moved closer, and Rachel could see it. Her hair was in a single braid that draped just over her right shoulder. “You were doing your hair? Really?”
Quinn laughed quietly, “Among other things, yes.” She stood at the end of the bed and let the robe slip from her shoulders. “Help me, Rachel Berry. You’re my only hope.”
Rachel would have loved to explain to Quinn that she was jumbling the movies, she really would have, but since she had forgotten her own name, she couldn’t really feel the guilt over allowing her girlfriend to mix up a line from A New Hope with an outfit from Return of the Jedi. She apparently had also forgotten how to breathe. And perhaps had lost feeling in her legs. She couldn’t really tell, because Quinn was standing a few feet away from her, dressed in that. Rachel’s eyes glazed over as she stared, taking in the bronze bra and underwear combo. Sheer burgundy material between Quinn’s thighs drifted majestically down to the floor from the bikini bottom. She hadn’t even forgotten the armband, it was wrapped high up on her left bicep, and the bracelet was on her right wrist. Rachel’s mouth opened and closed uselessly.
Quinn smiled, sheepish. “Did I break you?” She rounded the bed, moving to Rachel’s side.
It might have been the minute she had to catch her breath, it might have been the proximity, or it might have just been that she’d wanted this for so long, but Rachel didn’t waste another second. She grabbed Quinn, rolling the blonde over her own body until she was laying on top of the object of many fantasies. “Ouch!” She bounced back quickly, rubbing her hipbone that was surely going to have a bruise. “It’s real metal?”
“Well, yeah. I didn’t want to skimp on your fantasy, babe.” Quinn’s hand covered Rachel’s, “You okay?”
Rachel frowned, this was not exactly how she expected it to go. She shook it off with a reassuring smile, “I’m fine.” She moved back toward Quinn, kissing her slowly and allowing her hands to roam the miles of skin this fantastic outfit provided.
This time Quinn was the one who cried out, “Owww.” She pushed Rachel off of her.
“What? What is it?”
“It’s pinching me,” Quinn replied, her voice quiet.
Okay, this definitely was not going how she would ever have imagined it, but Rachel tried to rationalize it. She certainly wanted Quinn out of her clothes. So really, no problem. Or so she thought.
“It’s in the back. No. Not there. Over here.”
Rachel groaned, fed up. “I feel like I’m actually stuck in a nightmare. This is not how I dreamed of this happening. I feel like Cary Elwes.”
Quinn laughed, despite the fact they were having trouble removing the offending articles of clothing. “Truuuuuuue looooooove,” she quoted with a smile.
“No, not Princess Bride. I was talking about Men In Tights.”
“Oh.” Quinn paused, “That makes much more sense. Because of the chastity belt.”
“Yes, I know.”
The blonde continued, “But you can’t really blame me. He’s in multiple movies with princesses.” She chuckled again, to herself mostly, “My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepa-”
“Stop it. You’re mixing up all these movies and you’re dressed up like super hot Leia and I can’t undress you,” Rachel whined.
Her girlfriend’s pout was pitiful, but Quinn couldn’t resist one last line. “As you wish.”
Rachel glared and scooted away. She curled onto her side, crossing her arms and facing away from Quinn. She could hear metal clinking and felt the bed shift.
“Aw, come on, Rach. You know that means ‘I love you.’ You can’t be mad at me for that.”
“Hmph.”
The bed shifted again as Quinn pressed up against her back. Rachel managed to suppress the shudder that threatened when she felt all of her girlfriend pressed against her-no more barriers. Quinn kissed her shoulder. Then she blew a raspberry in the same spot. “Stop being pouty. I’m naked. You’re supposed to ravage me now.”
“Maybe we lost the mood,” Rachel countered, still pouting.
“Speak for yourself,” Quinn muttered. “You look hot in that underwear. I want to take it off you now.” She let her fingers dance over sensitive skin moving up the plane of Rachel’s stomach, up and under the swell of Rachel’s breasts. Rachel squirmed again, and Quinn pulled her hand away, moving to the bra clasp in front of her and unhooking it. “Please?” She moved the strap off of the free shoulder, allowing her hand to follow it, palm brushing over a responsive nipple. She heard Rachel try to hold back a moan, and pounced on it, moving her lips to her girlfriend’s neck and sucking gently while tweaking the tight nipple between her index finger and thumb. Rachel moaned loudly, and rolled onto her back, pulling the bra off completely.
“You win,” she gasped before catching Quinn’s bottom lip between her teeth, nibbling on it. She looked up at Quinn, “The braid is still kind of hot.”
Quinn laughed, kissing her deeper. Hands roamed, drawing out low groans and quiet cries of pleasure (they had promised the neighbors after all). They got lost in each other, their bodies moving as one until they tumbled over the edge together.
Quinn nuzzled into Rachel’s neck, kissing the soft skin as they started to drift into slumber. The next day was back to school, back to work, back to the grind of life.
“You need to work on your pop culture references, babe,” Rachel mumbled sleepily.
The blonde girl grinned into Rachel’s neck, murmuring into her skin, “I know them all, Rach. You’re just too much fun to tease.”
“Jerk.”
“Inconceivable.”
“Watch it, or I won’t battle the rodents of unusual sizes anymore.”
Quinn whispered back, “You’re just cranky because I didn’t wear the chain around my neck. Kinky, Berry. Very kinky.”
Rachel gave up with a sigh. “You win,” she repeated.
originally posted at rachel_quinn