Fic: These Dreams
Title: These Dreams
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn
Rating: NC-17
Length: 2087
Spoilers: None really
Summary: Quinn is fighting sexy thoughts of Rachel. Silly girl.
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters or the show. Or much of anything, really.
A/N: Wrote this in class today, because really… who needs a review session for a final? ;) Pregnancy ignored. For glee_kink_meme prompt: Quinn/Rachel - Quinn having a dream of Rachel. Next day feeling really "uncomfortable" and finally takes Rachel to somewhere private.
Someone is moving over me. The touch trailing up my thigh is whisper soft and almost torturous. I’m biting my lip, hard, because the touch is now wet-a tongue, moving closer to where I need it. It’s dark, and I can’t see anything. It heightens every feeling tenfold, and oh god that’s so good don’t stop please. My hands fist in thick hair, and I feel like that should surprise me but the insistent tongue between my thighs is making my legs wrap tightly around-and fuck fuck fuck, yes.
I’m in my bathroom now, pressing someone up against the cool tiles and damn, she’s beautiful. Wait, what? But her nipple is in my mouth, my tongue working it mercilessly, and the warm spray from the shower is raining down on me and her back is arching and my knee slides up between her thighs and why have I never done this before? I find my hand has a mind of its own apparently, because two fingers have moved together, and are sliding into the girl up against the wall. Why can’t I see her face? But thought is gone because her fingers are in me, too.
I blink slowly, my eyes adjusting to the sunlight as I take in the silhouette of the girl leaning over me. The sun is too bright, though. I can’t see her face, but she is so familiar. All dark hair and soft, tan skin, and hands that are now running over my body as we lay together on the blanket. I vaguely wonder if the people around us are watching, but then her knee slides between mine, and I rock against her, and she rocks against me, and I can feel her beneath her skirt. She’s wet, and I feel not a little turned on by that thought. Her voice is in my ear. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” she breathes, biting gently on my earlobe and I groan my appreciation. I have, too, I think, but I can’t tell if my voice actually worked at all, because there’s a hand on my breast, and fingers teasing my nipple through my shirt. And she’s gasping over me and-and, yes, Rachel.
Quinn had awoken with a start-a pulsing ache between her thighs. It was too strong to ignore, and she had slipped her hand beneath her shorts, surprised to find how wet she truly was. She was in the midst of taking care of her frustration, hips rocking slowly when it happened. The image of Rachel Berry-head thrown back in ecstasy, straddling Quinn’s hips as Quinn’s fingers pressed into the singer-flashed behind Quinn’s closed eyes. Quinn let out a shocked gasp, but she was already coming. Her heart pounding, she removed her hand, wiping it on her thigh as her head reeled with the implications of that image. Her dream rushed back to her and she groaned in aggravation. No. That was ridiculous. She turned her face into the pillow, letting out a muffled cry. She could not actually want Rachel fucking Berry. The tingling that was still running through her body seemed to contradict that thought.
The blonde rolled onto her side, arm curling around her extra pillow. It was just a dream, she told herself. It meant nothing. She was clearly just horny, and had been practicing her upcoming solo just before bed. Rachel had offered to give her help with it, that’s the only reason she appeared in her dream. Rationalizing it helped, and she was soon able to ignore what it could mean that she felt a thrill when she thought of Rachel’s words. She drifted into a dreamless sleep.
I’ve wanted this for so long.
---
Quinn was in a particularly foul mood when she got to school. She nearly bit Finn’s head off when he offered to carry her books for her, telling him to leave her alone. When she walked by Rachel’s locker, she slammed it shut and kept walking when Rachel tried to ask her what her problem was. She rounded the corner wondering what the hell was wrong with her. She pressed herself against the wall. That was so unoriginal. What the hell was Rachel fucking Berry doing to her? She suppressed a low growl, and headed to class.
Glee was miserable. She couldn’t focus on anything but the way Rachel’s ass looked in the skirt she had chosen to wear as the diva danced around in front of her. She nearly tackled Finn when he wrapped an arm over Rachel’s shoulder from behind. She had missed the chorus twice, starting late once, and just completely forgetting she was supposed to be singing the other time. Rachel glared back at her when Mr. Schue finally stopped the song.
“What are you looking at, RuPaul?”
Rachel huffed indignantly, and Finn shot Quinn a stupid look. She thought he was trying to look reproachful, but she didn’t know if he had that range of emotion.
“Okay, okay,” Mr. Schuester said quickly, interrupting before there was a fight. Everyone else rolled their eyes. “Why don’t we call it a day?”
Rachel glared at him now, too. “You don’t think we could use the practice?” Her eyes drifted to Quinn, staring pointedly.
“Watch it, smurfette,” Quinn growled. Puck moved behind her, grabbing her arms as she started to advance on Rachel.
Mr. Schue cut in again, “No, Rachel. I think we need to go home and get some rest. Cool off. Everyone,” he looked at Quinn with concern. “We’ll just work a little harder tomorrow, okay?”
There was a chorus of whatevers, okays and goodbyes, and the crew split up. Rachel stood at the piano, in a quiet argument with Mr. Schuester, and Quinn couldn’t stop her eyes from trailing up and down the girl’s lithe form. She felt an answering tension build low in her abdomen, and her mouth opened without her consent, “Hey. Celine.”
Rachel and Mr. Schue turned to her.
“I want to talk to you.”
The glee club advisor looked downright terrified now.
Quinn sighed, “I’m not going to fight her, Mr. Schue. I just need to talk to her about something.” She didn’t know what it was exactly that she needed to say, but she had to get the girl alone.
Mr. Schue looked at Rachel and she assured him, “I may be small, but I’ve taken self defense.”
Quinn rolled her eyes, feeling the urge to dispute Rachel’s assumption that she could take Quinn. But then images of them wrestling flashed in her head and she had to steady herself on the stool next to her. God, she thought, what is wrong with me? When did Puck’s brain get into my head? She felt her face flush slightly, but schooled her face to indifference. Rachel was still talking. Of course.
“I know how to use my attacker’s size to my advantage. I can demonstrate if you’d like,” Rachel looked up at Mr. Schue innocently, seemingly unaware of the fact that he was staring at her like she was insane. Which, Quinn thought snidely, might be a possibility.
“Uh, no. Thank you, Rachel. I have to get home, it’s a work day for Terri. I have to get the food on the table by the time she gets home.” He rushed out of the room, throwing a wave over his shoulder at Quinn.
Rachel walked to her things, gathering them while Quinn just stared. Rachel straightened, taking in Quinn’s flushed appearance with a quirked eyebrow. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“You wanted to talk? Didn’t you?”
Quinn was silent.
Rachel sighed, “Calling me Celine isn’t really an insult, I hope you know. But what is wrong with you today? I mean, yes, you are usually rude and honestly quite mean at times, but today you really are taking it to new levels. Plus you ruined glee practice. That’s unacceptable at this point in the year. Sectionals are just around the corner, you know.” Rachel kept talking as Quinn approached her slowly. “It’s really not fair to the rest of us. We’re all busy, Quinn. Just because you have Cheerios doesn’t give you an excuse. Santana and Brittany didn’t make any mistakes-well no more than usual. And I know you’re better than that, so it really is annoying when you just don’t focus.” Quinn had moved to approximately a foot from Rachel, who finally realized their proximity.
“Shut up, Rachel.”
Rachel frowned, her brow furrowing in confusion. Not man hands, not RuPaul, not Treasure Trail. Quinn had just called her by her name. “That’s not really polite, and you weren’t saying anything, so why do I need to be quiet? You said you wanted to ta-” Rachel’s words were cut off, and she let out a surprised squeak as Quinn’s lips briefly attached to her own. Quinn looked into Rachel’s wide eyes when she pulled back.
“How can I want you when you talk so damn much I want to scream?”
Not knowing it was possible, Quinn grinned when Rachel’s eyes widened further. “You … want … me?” Rachel’s voice rose into another squeak when she got to the end of her question, and Quinn sighed heavily.
“Yes.” There was no use denying it at this point.
“But-you and Finn?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Quinn snapped and she grimaced when Rachel flinched. “I don’t-I don’t know what’s going on with me,” Quinn admitted.
Rachel nodded.
Quinn took a step back.
Rachel took a step forward.
And then Rachel pulled her down for easily the best kiss Quinn had ever had. Where she learned to kiss like that, Quinn had no idea, because she doubted Rachel had much practice. Then she realized that she was thinking about Rachel’s kissing, when really she should just stop thinking and kiss her back. Her hands moved up Rachel’s arms, making their way to cup her face, and Rachel’s mouth opened, allowing their tongues to meet for the first time. Quinn fought back a moan, but Rachel didn’t. And Quinn thought she might pass out, knowing she drew that noise from the singer, as their bodies molded together.
“Oh god, Rachel,” Quinn gasped when they broke for air. Her voice dropped low, “I’ve been thinking about you all day.” And then Rachel’s hand-how did she get to be so sneaky?-was sliding down her Cheerios skirt, and right into her underwear. Quinn’s knees nearly buckled as Rachel’s fingers slipped against her.
Rachel’s grin was gorgeous, and she whispered as she leaned in, “I can feel that.”
Quinn groaned and pushed Rachel back toward the piano bench, straddling the smaller girl’s waist when she seated. Rachel’s fingers set a slow rhythm, circling her clit gently. The hard bench hurt her knees, but Quinn couldn’t bring herself to care, as long as Rachel didn’t stop what she was doing. She could feel herself getting closer, tightening low in her stomach and she bit her lip, tasting copper as she realized she drew blood.
Rachel whimpered below her, and Quinn’s eyes opened-she hadn’t even realized they had closed. With her spare hand, Rachel pulled her down, kissing her, then grabbing Quinn’s right arm. She guided Quinn to the button on her skirt, “Please,” she gasped.
Quinn quickly slipped a hand into Rachel’s underwear, and the singer’s head shot forward, thudding on Quinn’s shoulder forcefully. Despite the awkward position, Quinn twisted her wrist, rubbing Rachel’s clit roughly, causing the other girl to cry out before muffling herself against Quinn’s neck. Two fingers thrust into Quinn, surprising the blonde, and her hips bucked against Rachel wildly. “Rachel, please … don’t stop.” She increased her own hand’s pace, pinching Rachel’s clit between her middle and ring finger.
As if she thought Quinn was crazy and needed a reminder, Rachel kissed her neck, sucking at the Cheerio’s pulse point. The blonde thought that it was sure to leave a mark, and the thought secretly thrilled her. When Rachel’s dexterous fingers curled inside her, and her thumb pressed roughly on her clit, Quinn yelled loudly, body shaking as she clenched around the fingers buried inside her. She felt Rachel’s hips moving against her in an erratic pace, a low moan slipping from full lips.
Quinn had barely stopped shuddering when she whispered, “I’ve wanted this for so long.” She realized she had echoed her dream from the previous night, and she closed her eyes as she felt Rachel smile against her neck.
originally posted at rachel_quinn
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn
Rating: NC-17
Length: 2087
Spoilers: None really
Summary: Quinn is fighting sexy thoughts of Rachel. Silly girl.
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters or the show. Or much of anything, really.
A/N: Wrote this in class today, because really… who needs a review session for a final? ;) Pregnancy ignored. For glee_kink_meme prompt: Quinn/Rachel - Quinn having a dream of Rachel. Next day feeling really "uncomfortable" and finally takes Rachel to somewhere private.
Someone is moving over me. The touch trailing up my thigh is whisper soft and almost torturous. I’m biting my lip, hard, because the touch is now wet-a tongue, moving closer to where I need it. It’s dark, and I can’t see anything. It heightens every feeling tenfold, and oh god that’s so good don’t stop please. My hands fist in thick hair, and I feel like that should surprise me but the insistent tongue between my thighs is making my legs wrap tightly around-and fuck fuck fuck, yes.
I’m in my bathroom now, pressing someone up against the cool tiles and damn, she’s beautiful. Wait, what? But her nipple is in my mouth, my tongue working it mercilessly, and the warm spray from the shower is raining down on me and her back is arching and my knee slides up between her thighs and why have I never done this before? I find my hand has a mind of its own apparently, because two fingers have moved together, and are sliding into the girl up against the wall. Why can’t I see her face? But thought is gone because her fingers are in me, too.
I blink slowly, my eyes adjusting to the sunlight as I take in the silhouette of the girl leaning over me. The sun is too bright, though. I can’t see her face, but she is so familiar. All dark hair and soft, tan skin, and hands that are now running over my body as we lay together on the blanket. I vaguely wonder if the people around us are watching, but then her knee slides between mine, and I rock against her, and she rocks against me, and I can feel her beneath her skirt. She’s wet, and I feel not a little turned on by that thought. Her voice is in my ear. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” she breathes, biting gently on my earlobe and I groan my appreciation. I have, too, I think, but I can’t tell if my voice actually worked at all, because there’s a hand on my breast, and fingers teasing my nipple through my shirt. And she’s gasping over me and-and, yes, Rachel.
Quinn had awoken with a start-a pulsing ache between her thighs. It was too strong to ignore, and she had slipped her hand beneath her shorts, surprised to find how wet she truly was. She was in the midst of taking care of her frustration, hips rocking slowly when it happened. The image of Rachel Berry-head thrown back in ecstasy, straddling Quinn’s hips as Quinn’s fingers pressed into the singer-flashed behind Quinn’s closed eyes. Quinn let out a shocked gasp, but she was already coming. Her heart pounding, she removed her hand, wiping it on her thigh as her head reeled with the implications of that image. Her dream rushed back to her and she groaned in aggravation. No. That was ridiculous. She turned her face into the pillow, letting out a muffled cry. She could not actually want Rachel fucking Berry. The tingling that was still running through her body seemed to contradict that thought.
The blonde rolled onto her side, arm curling around her extra pillow. It was just a dream, she told herself. It meant nothing. She was clearly just horny, and had been practicing her upcoming solo just before bed. Rachel had offered to give her help with it, that’s the only reason she appeared in her dream. Rationalizing it helped, and she was soon able to ignore what it could mean that she felt a thrill when she thought of Rachel’s words. She drifted into a dreamless sleep.
I’ve wanted this for so long.
---
Quinn was in a particularly foul mood when she got to school. She nearly bit Finn’s head off when he offered to carry her books for her, telling him to leave her alone. When she walked by Rachel’s locker, she slammed it shut and kept walking when Rachel tried to ask her what her problem was. She rounded the corner wondering what the hell was wrong with her. She pressed herself against the wall. That was so unoriginal. What the hell was Rachel fucking Berry doing to her? She suppressed a low growl, and headed to class.
Glee was miserable. She couldn’t focus on anything but the way Rachel’s ass looked in the skirt she had chosen to wear as the diva danced around in front of her. She nearly tackled Finn when he wrapped an arm over Rachel’s shoulder from behind. She had missed the chorus twice, starting late once, and just completely forgetting she was supposed to be singing the other time. Rachel glared back at her when Mr. Schue finally stopped the song.
“What are you looking at, RuPaul?”
Rachel huffed indignantly, and Finn shot Quinn a stupid look. She thought he was trying to look reproachful, but she didn’t know if he had that range of emotion.
“Okay, okay,” Mr. Schuester said quickly, interrupting before there was a fight. Everyone else rolled their eyes. “Why don’t we call it a day?”
Rachel glared at him now, too. “You don’t think we could use the practice?” Her eyes drifted to Quinn, staring pointedly.
“Watch it, smurfette,” Quinn growled. Puck moved behind her, grabbing her arms as she started to advance on Rachel.
Mr. Schue cut in again, “No, Rachel. I think we need to go home and get some rest. Cool off. Everyone,” he looked at Quinn with concern. “We’ll just work a little harder tomorrow, okay?”
There was a chorus of whatevers, okays and goodbyes, and the crew split up. Rachel stood at the piano, in a quiet argument with Mr. Schuester, and Quinn couldn’t stop her eyes from trailing up and down the girl’s lithe form. She felt an answering tension build low in her abdomen, and her mouth opened without her consent, “Hey. Celine.”
Rachel and Mr. Schue turned to her.
“I want to talk to you.”
The glee club advisor looked downright terrified now.
Quinn sighed, “I’m not going to fight her, Mr. Schue. I just need to talk to her about something.” She didn’t know what it was exactly that she needed to say, but she had to get the girl alone.
Mr. Schue looked at Rachel and she assured him, “I may be small, but I’ve taken self defense.”
Quinn rolled her eyes, feeling the urge to dispute Rachel’s assumption that she could take Quinn. But then images of them wrestling flashed in her head and she had to steady herself on the stool next to her. God, she thought, what is wrong with me? When did Puck’s brain get into my head? She felt her face flush slightly, but schooled her face to indifference. Rachel was still talking. Of course.
“I know how to use my attacker’s size to my advantage. I can demonstrate if you’d like,” Rachel looked up at Mr. Schue innocently, seemingly unaware of the fact that he was staring at her like she was insane. Which, Quinn thought snidely, might be a possibility.
“Uh, no. Thank you, Rachel. I have to get home, it’s a work day for Terri. I have to get the food on the table by the time she gets home.” He rushed out of the room, throwing a wave over his shoulder at Quinn.
Rachel walked to her things, gathering them while Quinn just stared. Rachel straightened, taking in Quinn’s flushed appearance with a quirked eyebrow. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“You wanted to talk? Didn’t you?”
Quinn was silent.
Rachel sighed, “Calling me Celine isn’t really an insult, I hope you know. But what is wrong with you today? I mean, yes, you are usually rude and honestly quite mean at times, but today you really are taking it to new levels. Plus you ruined glee practice. That’s unacceptable at this point in the year. Sectionals are just around the corner, you know.” Rachel kept talking as Quinn approached her slowly. “It’s really not fair to the rest of us. We’re all busy, Quinn. Just because you have Cheerios doesn’t give you an excuse. Santana and Brittany didn’t make any mistakes-well no more than usual. And I know you’re better than that, so it really is annoying when you just don’t focus.” Quinn had moved to approximately a foot from Rachel, who finally realized their proximity.
“Shut up, Rachel.”
Rachel frowned, her brow furrowing in confusion. Not man hands, not RuPaul, not Treasure Trail. Quinn had just called her by her name. “That’s not really polite, and you weren’t saying anything, so why do I need to be quiet? You said you wanted to ta-” Rachel’s words were cut off, and she let out a surprised squeak as Quinn’s lips briefly attached to her own. Quinn looked into Rachel’s wide eyes when she pulled back.
“How can I want you when you talk so damn much I want to scream?”
Not knowing it was possible, Quinn grinned when Rachel’s eyes widened further. “You … want … me?” Rachel’s voice rose into another squeak when she got to the end of her question, and Quinn sighed heavily.
“Yes.” There was no use denying it at this point.
“But-you and Finn?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Quinn snapped and she grimaced when Rachel flinched. “I don’t-I don’t know what’s going on with me,” Quinn admitted.
Rachel nodded.
Quinn took a step back.
Rachel took a step forward.
And then Rachel pulled her down for easily the best kiss Quinn had ever had. Where she learned to kiss like that, Quinn had no idea, because she doubted Rachel had much practice. Then she realized that she was thinking about Rachel’s kissing, when really she should just stop thinking and kiss her back. Her hands moved up Rachel’s arms, making their way to cup her face, and Rachel’s mouth opened, allowing their tongues to meet for the first time. Quinn fought back a moan, but Rachel didn’t. And Quinn thought she might pass out, knowing she drew that noise from the singer, as their bodies molded together.
“Oh god, Rachel,” Quinn gasped when they broke for air. Her voice dropped low, “I’ve been thinking about you all day.” And then Rachel’s hand-how did she get to be so sneaky?-was sliding down her Cheerios skirt, and right into her underwear. Quinn’s knees nearly buckled as Rachel’s fingers slipped against her.
Rachel’s grin was gorgeous, and she whispered as she leaned in, “I can feel that.”
Quinn groaned and pushed Rachel back toward the piano bench, straddling the smaller girl’s waist when she seated. Rachel’s fingers set a slow rhythm, circling her clit gently. The hard bench hurt her knees, but Quinn couldn’t bring herself to care, as long as Rachel didn’t stop what she was doing. She could feel herself getting closer, tightening low in her stomach and she bit her lip, tasting copper as she realized she drew blood.
Rachel whimpered below her, and Quinn’s eyes opened-she hadn’t even realized they had closed. With her spare hand, Rachel pulled her down, kissing her, then grabbing Quinn’s right arm. She guided Quinn to the button on her skirt, “Please,” she gasped.
Quinn quickly slipped a hand into Rachel’s underwear, and the singer’s head shot forward, thudding on Quinn’s shoulder forcefully. Despite the awkward position, Quinn twisted her wrist, rubbing Rachel’s clit roughly, causing the other girl to cry out before muffling herself against Quinn’s neck. Two fingers thrust into Quinn, surprising the blonde, and her hips bucked against Rachel wildly. “Rachel, please … don’t stop.” She increased her own hand’s pace, pinching Rachel’s clit between her middle and ring finger.
As if she thought Quinn was crazy and needed a reminder, Rachel kissed her neck, sucking at the Cheerio’s pulse point. The blonde thought that it was sure to leave a mark, and the thought secretly thrilled her. When Rachel’s dexterous fingers curled inside her, and her thumb pressed roughly on her clit, Quinn yelled loudly, body shaking as she clenched around the fingers buried inside her. She felt Rachel’s hips moving against her in an erratic pace, a low moan slipping from full lips.
Quinn had barely stopped shuddering when she whispered, “I’ve wanted this for so long.” She realized she had echoed her dream from the previous night, and she closed her eyes as she felt Rachel smile against her neck.
originally posted at rachel_quinn