Ficlet: Crescendo
Title: Crescendo
Author: Soliloquyrain
Pairing,Character(s): Rachel/Puck
Rating: Hard R
Word Count: Cookie: 611
Spoilers: None
Summary: a gradual, steady increase in loudness or force.
Author's note: Oh God, sorry for spamming ya'll. Got bored and this was born.
_____
He taught himself how to play the guitar.
Noah Puckerman didn't love much, but he loved the way his mom looked at him when he'd play for her. He loved the way his fingertips calloused over after months of playing. He loved the smooth feel of polished wood under his palm. Once he mastered it, it was passion--there was something liberating about having music. Maybe he wouldn't just be some Lima Loser for the rest of his life; maybe his guitar would take him somewhere.
It didn't take him long to learn his way around a guitar; a few hours hunched over the school computer and a couple of weeks locked in his room. He prided himself on being a fast learner (just because he couldn't care less about school doesn't mean he's stupid), and not just in music, either.
It doesn't take long to figure out what makes Rachel Berry squirm, and he loves learning her almost as much (ok, way more) as he loved learning his guitar.
He learns that when he trails his fingers along her back, she arches into the touch like a cat. He slides his hand across her belly and she giggles, sucking it in just a bit because she's self-conscious but Jesus, she doesn't need to be. She likes her hair pulled, just a little bit and he loves doing it, tangling his fingers in those thick silky locks at the base of her neck and tugging just barely, just enough to tilt her head back and give him better access to her mouth.
She sighs when he traces a finger around her nipple and she moans when he sucks her neck, and when he brushes his thumb over her hips, she whimpers and he thinks she must be the most complex musical instrument in the entire world but she's one he loves learning.
He traces his index finger under the curve of her breast and her entire body tenses like a guitar string wound taut and he drags his fingers down her body slowly with a touch so soft it's barely there; down the length of her abdomen and then across her thighs and when she mewls into his shoulder he thinks she might break.
He kisses her eyelids gently and his fingers caress the soft skin between her thighs, and she makes a noise that's half whimper, half please, so he obliges--he always does, he can't say no to her--and when he presses his thumb against her, she vibrates like a freshly plucked guitar string.
She's so noisy and fuck, he loves it, even when they're in her room and her dads are downstairs and he's whispering in her ear that she needs to shhh, baby, shhh. She starts so low and soft and it builds until he is covering her mouth with his own to muffle the sound; in music it's called a crescendo, and he thinks it fits her aptly (not just her but them, their entire relationship).
He loves the sound of her coming; she nearly fucking sings, sweet and thick like chocolate sauce and as she's coming down her breath grows ragged and escapes her in short harsh bursts (staccato, he thinks as he buries his face in her hair) until she finally loosens her grip on him.
The fantastic fuckin' thing about Rachel Berry though, the thing he loves most, is just when he thinks he's got her down and he's memorized every gasp, every moan, every square inch of her body, he'll touch her again and she'll make a noise completely new to him.
And he'll gladly spend all day learning how to make that noise, again.
Author: Soliloquyrain
Pairing,Character(s): Rachel/Puck
Rating: Hard R
Word Count: Cookie: 611
Spoilers: None
Summary: a gradual, steady increase in loudness or force.
Author's note: Oh God, sorry for spamming ya'll. Got bored and this was born.
_____
He taught himself how to play the guitar.
Noah Puckerman didn't love much, but he loved the way his mom looked at him when he'd play for her. He loved the way his fingertips calloused over after months of playing. He loved the smooth feel of polished wood under his palm. Once he mastered it, it was passion--there was something liberating about having music. Maybe he wouldn't just be some Lima Loser for the rest of his life; maybe his guitar would take him somewhere.
It didn't take him long to learn his way around a guitar; a few hours hunched over the school computer and a couple of weeks locked in his room. He prided himself on being a fast learner (just because he couldn't care less about school doesn't mean he's stupid), and not just in music, either.
It doesn't take long to figure out what makes Rachel Berry squirm, and he loves learning her almost as much (ok, way more) as he loved learning his guitar.
He learns that when he trails his fingers along her back, she arches into the touch like a cat. He slides his hand across her belly and she giggles, sucking it in just a bit because she's self-conscious but Jesus, she doesn't need to be. She likes her hair pulled, just a little bit and he loves doing it, tangling his fingers in those thick silky locks at the base of her neck and tugging just barely, just enough to tilt her head back and give him better access to her mouth.
She sighs when he traces a finger around her nipple and she moans when he sucks her neck, and when he brushes his thumb over her hips, she whimpers and he thinks she must be the most complex musical instrument in the entire world but she's one he loves learning.
He traces his index finger under the curve of her breast and her entire body tenses like a guitar string wound taut and he drags his fingers down her body slowly with a touch so soft it's barely there; down the length of her abdomen and then across her thighs and when she mewls into his shoulder he thinks she might break.
He kisses her eyelids gently and his fingers caress the soft skin between her thighs, and she makes a noise that's half whimper, half please, so he obliges--he always does, he can't say no to her--and when he presses his thumb against her, she vibrates like a freshly plucked guitar string.
She's so noisy and fuck, he loves it, even when they're in her room and her dads are downstairs and he's whispering in her ear that she needs to shhh, baby, shhh. She starts so low and soft and it builds until he is covering her mouth with his own to muffle the sound; in music it's called a crescendo, and he thinks it fits her aptly (not just her but them, their entire relationship).
He loves the sound of her coming; she nearly fucking sings, sweet and thick like chocolate sauce and as she's coming down her breath grows ragged and escapes her in short harsh bursts (staccato, he thinks as he buries his face in her hair) until she finally loosens her grip on him.
The fantastic fuckin' thing about Rachel Berry though, the thing he loves most, is just when he thinks he's got her down and he's memorized every gasp, every moan, every square inch of her body, he'll touch her again and she'll make a noise completely new to him.
And he'll gladly spend all day learning how to make that noise, again.