Fic: Lucky (7/?)
Title: Lucky
Author: cranberry_pi
Rating: R for themes.
Spoilers: Up to "Mattress," sort of. It's AU in that Quinn had a pregnancy scare, but wasn't really pregnant.
Summary: An attempt at this prompt.
WARNINGS: Cancer, Character Death.
“Can I start again with my faith shaken?
‘Cause I can’t go back and undo this.”
Torment. Quinn woke on Santana’s couch, blinking sleepily. She’d been dreaming of her father - his parting words to her, as much as she’d never admit it out loud, had hit her hard. She didn’t want to die alone - everyone did, to some degree, she understood that, but she didn’t want to be alone in the literal sense. But, as if reading her mind, Finn emerged from the kitchen and sat at the end of the couch.
“Finn, I - I need to talk to you,” she said thickly. “There’s something I need you to-“
“Shh,” he put a finger to her lips. “I know about you and Rachel. And it’s okay. We both love you, and that’s not going to change, no matter what. So, from now on, you just tell us what you need - if you need her, she’ll be here. If you need me, I’ll be here. And if you need both of us - then we’ll be here, together. Okay?”
“Thank you,” she mouthed, stunned and trying to hold back tears.
“Are you okay? I mean, I know that whole thing with your dad was - messed up. But you’re not letting him get to you, are you? He’s a dick, and nothing he said was true.”
“I don’t want to be alone when - you know,” she confessed.
“You won’t be,” he promised. “You won’t, I swear.”
“Could you just hold me for a while, Finn?”
“Of course I can. Did you want a blanket or anything?”
“No,” she shook her head. “I’m not tired, I just - can we watch a movie or something? If anybody else is still up, they can come and watch too.”
“It’s only seven,” he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and kissed her cheek. “Everybody’s in the kitchen playing cards. I’ll go get them.”
“Thanks,” she murmured, watching him go. As her friends - her family - joined her, she banished Russell’s words to a place where they wouldn’t bother her any further. She would be loved, and she wouldn’t be alone, and that was all that mattered. Not his cold-heartedness toward his own flesh and blood, not his threats of damnation and hellfire. Love won out over it all. Finn sat beside her and pulled her in close with one arm, and from the easy chair nearest the television, Rachel smiled at her - and everything was briefly okay with the world.
They watched the dumbest movies Santana owned, including one in Spanish - which was even funnier because none of them bar Santana had the faintest idea what was going on - until Quinn’s energy started to flag. She yawned, and Finn kissed the top of her head.
“Did you want to go to bed?”
“Yeah,” she admitted. “Could,” she bit her lip, suddenly worried about the new dynamic of their relationship.
“Could what, babe?”
“Could Rachel stay with me tonight? I mean, if that’s - no, sorry, forget it, it’s fine,” she flushed.
“Hey,” he eased her head back until she was looking into his eyes. “I promised you - it’s okay. If that’s what you want, that’s what you get. Okay? No feeling guilty allowed.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “And what happens if I do feel guilty?”
“Then I’ll tickle you,” he brushed his fingers down her rib cage and she giggled, trying to squirm away. “And Rachel will help me!” on cue, Rachel leapt out of her chair and grabbed Quinn’s bare foot, trailing a long fingernail down it. Quinn squealed, trying to wriggle out of Finn’s grip. He held her tightly, though, and Santana and Brittany joined in, all of them tickling her until she’d nearly wet herself.
“Mercy!” she cried, and they stopped, all of them laughing. She elbowed Finn. “Let me up, you oaf.” He did, and she launched herself at Santana and Brittany, hugging them fiercely. “I love you idiots, you know.”
“We love you right back,” Santana squeezed her. Brittany nodded her agreement. Quinn kissed them each on the cheek and turned away, back to Rachel. “So - can you stay with me?”
“Of course. I don’t have any clothes for tomorrow, though, so I’ll need to return home in the morning before school.”
“Sure,” Quinn nodded, turning her attention briefly back to Finn and giving him a hug. “I love you so much right now, you know. You’re amazing.”
“I love you too,” he whispered. “Sleep well, okay? I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
“Unless my head decides to explode before then,” she promised. “Goodnight,” she kissed him. Her hand found Rachel’s, and she let herself be led upstairs to the guest room.
Rachel turned away with a blush high in her cheeks as Quinn stripped for bed, and she chuckled. “You’ve already seen me naked, haven’t you?”
“Well, yes - but this is different.”
Quinn threw on a pair of babydoll pajamas from her suitcase. “You’re safe now,” she said softly, and Rachel looked over at her. There was an expression Quinn couldn’t identify on her face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Rachel took a deep, shuddering breath.
“No, really - Rachel, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me.” She stepped closer, and Rachel took a measured step back.
“I’m sorry - it’s just, I’m having a really hard time not touching you right now.”
“I’m not a porcelain doll, Rachel. You can touch me if you want to.”
“If I touch you - it’s going to lead to things you’re not ready for.”
“Excuse me? I think I’ll decide what I’m ready for, thanks.” She stepped forward again, and Rachel backed up - but only a fraction of an inch, because the wall stopped her from going any further. Quinn moved right into her personal space, close enough that she could smell Rachel’s perfume - and the musky scent of her arousal. Her eyes were wide and her pupils dilated, and she reached out a hesitant hand. It was likely meant for Quinn’s shoulder, but it landed on her breast instead, with only thin satin separating their skin. Quinn moaned softly at the touch and, emboldened, Rachel pulled her closer and kissed her, hard.
“Ow,” Quinn hissed as Rachel bit her lip.
“Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” Quinn kissed her again, her hands reaching around to cup Rachel’s ass. The appreciative moan in her mouth gave her all the incentive she needed to squeeze gently, and Rachel’s hips rolled forward. She broke the kiss, though, and held Quinn firmly at arm’s length.
“What’s the matter?” Quinn pouted.
“I just don’t want you to rush into this,” Rachel panted. “It hasn’t even been two days since we kissed.”
“I don’t know how much time I have, Rach,” Quinn noted her smile at the pet name. “I don’t know much at all, really - but I know your hands feel right on me. I need you to touch me. I need to feel you.”
“Then can I make a deal with you? Can we just keep it to making out, just for tonight? So you can decide if this is what you really want?”
“And tomorrow?”
“If you still want this tomorrow, Quinn, it would be my pleasure to make love to you.”
Quinn took a breath. “Okay. But, uh, could I,” she fumbled. “Could I see more of you?” Rachel looked panicked. “Not - not all of you, I mean, I just thought - maybe in your underwear?”
She looked down, and Quinn nearly took it back. But then she reached behind her and undid the zip on her skirt, letting it fall and pool around her feet. “Jesus,” Quinn whispered, feeling her arousal on her thighs. Rachel reached for the hem of her sweater and Quinn beat her to it, lifting it slowly - and then bunching it in her hand at its apex, trapping Rachel’s arms above her head with her sweater still covering her eyes.
“Quinn?” Rachel’s question was met with a soft kiss. Quinn nipped at her neck, kissed her lips, kissed her cheeks, while Rachel’s head moved in anticipation of where Quinn would go next as she was teased playfully. Finally, though, she whispered “Quinn? I - I need to lie down, I can’t stand up any more.” Quinn pulled the sweater the rest of the way off and tossed it aside, staring greedily at Rachel’s exposed skin.
“You have gold stars on your panties,” Quinn felt herself tearing up for reasons she couldn’t explain. “I love it - it’s you and it’s just so fucking perfect. You’re perfect - god, every inch of you, Rachel, I’m sorry I’ve been so blind; I wish we had more time. You’re fucking gorgeous, and it’s too late, I’m too late, I’m sorry-“
Rachel silenced her with a kiss. “It’s never too late, Quinn.” She led her to the bed and laid her down, lying opposite so they could be face to face. She reached out, tracing the delicate arch of Quinn’s cheekbones, and she shivered at the touch.
“God, touch me,” Quinn begged. “Just touch me.”
Rachel did, climbing atop her. She leaned in close, her bra-clad breasts brushing Quinn’s, and pushed the blonde hair back from her forehead. She put both of her hands on top of Quinn’s head, and began to trace a slow path downward. Stopping at her ears, she gently massaged the lobes. Her fingers slid over to trace nose, lips, cheeks, and chin, and down to the soft skin of her neck. Quinn was shaking underneath her, begging in hushed whispers for something she couldn’t name. Her hands followed the soft curve of her shoulders, down her chest until she was within inches of Quinn’s breasts.
“Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop,” Quinn whispered. Rachel didn’t, taking the soft mounds in her hands and rubbing them gently through the satin pajamas. Quinn cried out softly, her back arching. Rachel’s hands didn’t linger long, though, following their own reverent, wandering course down the impossibly warm skin of her stomach to the waistband of her pajama bottoms. She hesitated, and Quinn whimpered with frustration as Rachel shifted and her hands skipped the part of her that most wanted contact in favor of following her legs down to her feet, and back up to just shy of Quinn’s aching center. “Please,” she whispered, her hips moving rapidly of their own accord, her back arched. “Please.”
Rachel shifted again, instead, and slid her leg up between Quinn’s until her thigh bumped against the large wet spot on Quinn’s pajama bottoms. She gasped, her mouth falling open in a soundless cry.
“Rub yourself against my leg, sweetheart, okay?”
Quinn, nearly overcome with want, ground against her thigh shamelessly, hovering right on the edge of the crescendo she’d felt approaching with Finn - but it seemed to stall out at the crucial moment. “Rachel,” she cried, “I need - more, I need,” she wasn’t even sure what she needed, her mind racing. And then Rachel reached behind herself, releasing the clasp of her bra and pulling it off, revealing her breasts, and guided Quinn’s hand to one. She squeezed, and then she screamed as she had the first orgasm of her life - at least the first that wasn’t her own doing, and those had been nothing like this. It was all of the old movie clichés at once, it seemed - the earth moving, the fireworks, all of it, and when she finally came back to herself she found Rachel’s hand over her mouth. She looked a wordless question at her.
“Sorry,” Rachel whispered. “You were very loud, and Santana’s mother is down the hall.”
Quinn flushed and collapsed bonelessly to the bed. Rachel moved the hand from her mouth and wrapped her in her arms, holding on as if her grip alone could keep Quinn from her looming departure from the world.
“Rachel,” she whispered. “That was - it - is it always like that?”
“It’s better,” there was a grin in her voice as she replied. “I’ll show you tomorrow.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She sat between Rachel and Finn in Glee the next day, content to hold their hands and alternate which of their shoulders she leaned on as Will gave them the lesson of the week. With that out of the way, he collected permission slips - and Quinn was grateful to see that every last member turned theirs in. Finally, he began to talk about their competition for Regionals - and she had to get up and leave. Rachel found her in the hallway, sitting on one of the school’s benches, idly playing with her hair.
“Quinn?” she asked softly, smoothing her skirt underneath her as she sat. “Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just couldn’t listen to Mister Schue talk about Regionals. It - it’s just a reminder that I won’t be here for it.”
Rachel wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she settled for sliding an arm around Quinn’s shoulders and pulling her close. They sat in silence until finally Quinn, nearly too softly to be heard, asked a question. “Take me home? I need - I need you to make me feel like I’m still here. Make me feel like I’m still alive, okay?”
Rachel pulled out her phone, sending a quick text to Santana, Brittany and Finn, letting them know what was happening - and not to come home for a few hours.
7.) Sing a love song - in public.
Author: cranberry_pi
Rating: R for themes.
Spoilers: Up to "Mattress," sort of. It's AU in that Quinn had a pregnancy scare, but wasn't really pregnant.
Summary: An attempt at this prompt.
WARNINGS: Cancer, Character Death.
“Can I start again with my faith shaken?
‘Cause I can’t go back and undo this.”
Torment. Quinn woke on Santana’s couch, blinking sleepily. She’d been dreaming of her father - his parting words to her, as much as she’d never admit it out loud, had hit her hard. She didn’t want to die alone - everyone did, to some degree, she understood that, but she didn’t want to be alone in the literal sense. But, as if reading her mind, Finn emerged from the kitchen and sat at the end of the couch.
“Finn, I - I need to talk to you,” she said thickly. “There’s something I need you to-“
“Shh,” he put a finger to her lips. “I know about you and Rachel. And it’s okay. We both love you, and that’s not going to change, no matter what. So, from now on, you just tell us what you need - if you need her, she’ll be here. If you need me, I’ll be here. And if you need both of us - then we’ll be here, together. Okay?”
“Thank you,” she mouthed, stunned and trying to hold back tears.
“Are you okay? I mean, I know that whole thing with your dad was - messed up. But you’re not letting him get to you, are you? He’s a dick, and nothing he said was true.”
“I don’t want to be alone when - you know,” she confessed.
“You won’t be,” he promised. “You won’t, I swear.”
“Could you just hold me for a while, Finn?”
“Of course I can. Did you want a blanket or anything?”
“No,” she shook her head. “I’m not tired, I just - can we watch a movie or something? If anybody else is still up, they can come and watch too.”
“It’s only seven,” he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and kissed her cheek. “Everybody’s in the kitchen playing cards. I’ll go get them.”
“Thanks,” she murmured, watching him go. As her friends - her family - joined her, she banished Russell’s words to a place where they wouldn’t bother her any further. She would be loved, and she wouldn’t be alone, and that was all that mattered. Not his cold-heartedness toward his own flesh and blood, not his threats of damnation and hellfire. Love won out over it all. Finn sat beside her and pulled her in close with one arm, and from the easy chair nearest the television, Rachel smiled at her - and everything was briefly okay with the world.
They watched the dumbest movies Santana owned, including one in Spanish - which was even funnier because none of them bar Santana had the faintest idea what was going on - until Quinn’s energy started to flag. She yawned, and Finn kissed the top of her head.
“Did you want to go to bed?”
“Yeah,” she admitted. “Could,” she bit her lip, suddenly worried about the new dynamic of their relationship.
“Could what, babe?”
“Could Rachel stay with me tonight? I mean, if that’s - no, sorry, forget it, it’s fine,” she flushed.
“Hey,” he eased her head back until she was looking into his eyes. “I promised you - it’s okay. If that’s what you want, that’s what you get. Okay? No feeling guilty allowed.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “And what happens if I do feel guilty?”
“Then I’ll tickle you,” he brushed his fingers down her rib cage and she giggled, trying to squirm away. “And Rachel will help me!” on cue, Rachel leapt out of her chair and grabbed Quinn’s bare foot, trailing a long fingernail down it. Quinn squealed, trying to wriggle out of Finn’s grip. He held her tightly, though, and Santana and Brittany joined in, all of them tickling her until she’d nearly wet herself.
“Mercy!” she cried, and they stopped, all of them laughing. She elbowed Finn. “Let me up, you oaf.” He did, and she launched herself at Santana and Brittany, hugging them fiercely. “I love you idiots, you know.”
“We love you right back,” Santana squeezed her. Brittany nodded her agreement. Quinn kissed them each on the cheek and turned away, back to Rachel. “So - can you stay with me?”
“Of course. I don’t have any clothes for tomorrow, though, so I’ll need to return home in the morning before school.”
“Sure,” Quinn nodded, turning her attention briefly back to Finn and giving him a hug. “I love you so much right now, you know. You’re amazing.”
“I love you too,” he whispered. “Sleep well, okay? I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
“Unless my head decides to explode before then,” she promised. “Goodnight,” she kissed him. Her hand found Rachel’s, and she let herself be led upstairs to the guest room.
Rachel turned away with a blush high in her cheeks as Quinn stripped for bed, and she chuckled. “You’ve already seen me naked, haven’t you?”
“Well, yes - but this is different.”
Quinn threw on a pair of babydoll pajamas from her suitcase. “You’re safe now,” she said softly, and Rachel looked over at her. There was an expression Quinn couldn’t identify on her face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Rachel took a deep, shuddering breath.
“No, really - Rachel, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me.” She stepped closer, and Rachel took a measured step back.
“I’m sorry - it’s just, I’m having a really hard time not touching you right now.”
“I’m not a porcelain doll, Rachel. You can touch me if you want to.”
“If I touch you - it’s going to lead to things you’re not ready for.”
“Excuse me? I think I’ll decide what I’m ready for, thanks.” She stepped forward again, and Rachel backed up - but only a fraction of an inch, because the wall stopped her from going any further. Quinn moved right into her personal space, close enough that she could smell Rachel’s perfume - and the musky scent of her arousal. Her eyes were wide and her pupils dilated, and she reached out a hesitant hand. It was likely meant for Quinn’s shoulder, but it landed on her breast instead, with only thin satin separating their skin. Quinn moaned softly at the touch and, emboldened, Rachel pulled her closer and kissed her, hard.
“Ow,” Quinn hissed as Rachel bit her lip.
“Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” Quinn kissed her again, her hands reaching around to cup Rachel’s ass. The appreciative moan in her mouth gave her all the incentive she needed to squeeze gently, and Rachel’s hips rolled forward. She broke the kiss, though, and held Quinn firmly at arm’s length.
“What’s the matter?” Quinn pouted.
“I just don’t want you to rush into this,” Rachel panted. “It hasn’t even been two days since we kissed.”
“I don’t know how much time I have, Rach,” Quinn noted her smile at the pet name. “I don’t know much at all, really - but I know your hands feel right on me. I need you to touch me. I need to feel you.”
“Then can I make a deal with you? Can we just keep it to making out, just for tonight? So you can decide if this is what you really want?”
“And tomorrow?”
“If you still want this tomorrow, Quinn, it would be my pleasure to make love to you.”
Quinn took a breath. “Okay. But, uh, could I,” she fumbled. “Could I see more of you?” Rachel looked panicked. “Not - not all of you, I mean, I just thought - maybe in your underwear?”
She looked down, and Quinn nearly took it back. But then she reached behind her and undid the zip on her skirt, letting it fall and pool around her feet. “Jesus,” Quinn whispered, feeling her arousal on her thighs. Rachel reached for the hem of her sweater and Quinn beat her to it, lifting it slowly - and then bunching it in her hand at its apex, trapping Rachel’s arms above her head with her sweater still covering her eyes.
“Quinn?” Rachel’s question was met with a soft kiss. Quinn nipped at her neck, kissed her lips, kissed her cheeks, while Rachel’s head moved in anticipation of where Quinn would go next as she was teased playfully. Finally, though, she whispered “Quinn? I - I need to lie down, I can’t stand up any more.” Quinn pulled the sweater the rest of the way off and tossed it aside, staring greedily at Rachel’s exposed skin.
“You have gold stars on your panties,” Quinn felt herself tearing up for reasons she couldn’t explain. “I love it - it’s you and it’s just so fucking perfect. You’re perfect - god, every inch of you, Rachel, I’m sorry I’ve been so blind; I wish we had more time. You’re fucking gorgeous, and it’s too late, I’m too late, I’m sorry-“
Rachel silenced her with a kiss. “It’s never too late, Quinn.” She led her to the bed and laid her down, lying opposite so they could be face to face. She reached out, tracing the delicate arch of Quinn’s cheekbones, and she shivered at the touch.
“God, touch me,” Quinn begged. “Just touch me.”
Rachel did, climbing atop her. She leaned in close, her bra-clad breasts brushing Quinn’s, and pushed the blonde hair back from her forehead. She put both of her hands on top of Quinn’s head, and began to trace a slow path downward. Stopping at her ears, she gently massaged the lobes. Her fingers slid over to trace nose, lips, cheeks, and chin, and down to the soft skin of her neck. Quinn was shaking underneath her, begging in hushed whispers for something she couldn’t name. Her hands followed the soft curve of her shoulders, down her chest until she was within inches of Quinn’s breasts.
“Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop,” Quinn whispered. Rachel didn’t, taking the soft mounds in her hands and rubbing them gently through the satin pajamas. Quinn cried out softly, her back arching. Rachel’s hands didn’t linger long, though, following their own reverent, wandering course down the impossibly warm skin of her stomach to the waistband of her pajama bottoms. She hesitated, and Quinn whimpered with frustration as Rachel shifted and her hands skipped the part of her that most wanted contact in favor of following her legs down to her feet, and back up to just shy of Quinn’s aching center. “Please,” she whispered, her hips moving rapidly of their own accord, her back arched. “Please.”
Rachel shifted again, instead, and slid her leg up between Quinn’s until her thigh bumped against the large wet spot on Quinn’s pajama bottoms. She gasped, her mouth falling open in a soundless cry.
“Rub yourself against my leg, sweetheart, okay?”
Quinn, nearly overcome with want, ground against her thigh shamelessly, hovering right on the edge of the crescendo she’d felt approaching with Finn - but it seemed to stall out at the crucial moment. “Rachel,” she cried, “I need - more, I need,” she wasn’t even sure what she needed, her mind racing. And then Rachel reached behind herself, releasing the clasp of her bra and pulling it off, revealing her breasts, and guided Quinn’s hand to one. She squeezed, and then she screamed as she had the first orgasm of her life - at least the first that wasn’t her own doing, and those had been nothing like this. It was all of the old movie clichés at once, it seemed - the earth moving, the fireworks, all of it, and when she finally came back to herself she found Rachel’s hand over her mouth. She looked a wordless question at her.
“Sorry,” Rachel whispered. “You were very loud, and Santana’s mother is down the hall.”
Quinn flushed and collapsed bonelessly to the bed. Rachel moved the hand from her mouth and wrapped her in her arms, holding on as if her grip alone could keep Quinn from her looming departure from the world.
“Rachel,” she whispered. “That was - it - is it always like that?”
“It’s better,” there was a grin in her voice as she replied. “I’ll show you tomorrow.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She sat between Rachel and Finn in Glee the next day, content to hold their hands and alternate which of their shoulders she leaned on as Will gave them the lesson of the week. With that out of the way, he collected permission slips - and Quinn was grateful to see that every last member turned theirs in. Finally, he began to talk about their competition for Regionals - and she had to get up and leave. Rachel found her in the hallway, sitting on one of the school’s benches, idly playing with her hair.
“Quinn?” she asked softly, smoothing her skirt underneath her as she sat. “Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just couldn’t listen to Mister Schue talk about Regionals. It - it’s just a reminder that I won’t be here for it.”
Rachel wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she settled for sliding an arm around Quinn’s shoulders and pulling her close. They sat in silence until finally Quinn, nearly too softly to be heard, asked a question. “Take me home? I need - I need you to make me feel like I’m still here. Make me feel like I’m still alive, okay?”
Rachel pulled out her phone, sending a quick text to Santana, Brittany and Finn, letting them know what was happening - and not to come home for a few hours.
7.) Sing a love song - in public.