i&#x27;m in trouble, i know

008: Blue Skies

nyufabray:

Hey. You’re singing.

Pausing mid-song, Quinn turned at the gentle greeting and stifled a groan at the sight. How was she supposed to not burn anything with Rachel prancing about in a nightie like that? There was barely anything to it, and even though they had gone to bed together, Rachel didn’t look any less delicious in the morning light. Quinn’s gaze lingered longer than it should have and hazels lifted to the pout playing at pink lips. Fuck. With a bashful smile reserved only for the brunette, Quinn picked her song back up. The soon-to-be Tony winner loved her voice —how could she say no? “In other words, hold my hand,” she sang sweetly, trying to suppress the urge to toss out the breakfast she made and eat Rachel instead. God, Quinn really hoped that yesterday had only been a preview, and not a one time fling. “In other words, baby,” she softly continued, playfully swiping some of Rachel’s hair behind her ear as the girl munched on a piece of pancake. Kiss me. The next lyric was kiss me and Quinn dodged the possibly awkward moment by slyly placing a blueberry between her teeth and humming the rest. All she wanted to do in this moment was kiss Rachel, and Quinn knew that saying so out loud, even through song, would only amplify her own desire.

In fact, the rest of the song was all sorts of dangerous, pledges of love and adoration, so the blonde switched off the stove with a click and smirked at the brunette’s compliment on her cooking. “I know,” she replied simply, offering her a wink along with the plate that Rachel had already claimed as her own. Her back was still tingling where Rachel had briefly placed her hand. “For you, Thumbelina.” Slipping around her roommate as casually as she could, Quinn reached up into the cupboard for a mug, shirt rising momentarily, before addressing the coffee pot. Her eyes were stinging from sleeping with her contacts in, but treating the discomfort could wait. Caffeine first. Glasses later. “Sleep well?” She chewed on her bottom lip a moment. “Sorry if I worried you, leaving so early. I’m feeling really good, this morning,” she explained shyly. After the break up, Quinn had been a cocktail of heartbreak and apathy, so whatever it was that was making her pulse thrum warm in her chest — well, she had forgotten what it felt like to be happy. Or function like a human instead of a robot. It had been a very, very long time. She stirred in some sugar. “Figured I could help start your Monday off nicely.” Great, Quinn had painted the entire breakfast in favor of Rachel’s happiness. Why didn’t she settle for something more laid-back and less domestic, like lazily offering her best friend her leftovers? Her eyes shifted over to the two identical plates. Yeah, this was clearly for the two of them. A blush settled on her cheeks and Quinn tried to hide it behind taking a long sip of coffee. Her eyes dipped again.

“You look so hot in that nightgown.” It was a low murmur into her mug, full of envied desire, and most definitely meant to have been a thought, not actual fucking speech. Quinn blinked rapidly at her own stupidity and ran a hand through her hair, grasping at some way to save herself. “I mean, you look great in everything, obviously,” she rushed out, leaning back against the counter to create some distance. “Just — you know. Especially now.” Knowing that she was digging a deeper hole with every pathetic comment, Quinn shut her mouth and took another guilty sip, silently berating herself as she looked away.

A pout pulled on Rachel’s lips when Quinn popped a blueberry in her mouth instead of continuing to sing. She continued in her head instead, a blush dusting her cheeks when she realized the following lyrics. It was a good thing Quinn decided to stop and just hum, or else the diva might have just swooned then and there to worship the blonde. So she just kept quiet, every now and then stealing a pinch of blueberry or a piece of fruit while her roommate cooked. She huffed playfully at the nickname but gratefully accepted the plate of food—as if she hadn’t already done half the damage on the already cooked pancakes. It was a reminder of how far they had gone. The first time Rachel stole a piece of fruit from Quinn’s breakfast bowl on her third morning in the apartment, the blonde went berserk, and now Quinn was making her breakfast. Well, that, and considering they had slept together the afternoon before, was an indication of how their relationship has evolved. Rachel’s gaze followed her roommate when she didn’t sit beside her like the diva had assumed, but quickly averted her eyes at the sliver of skin exposed when Quinn reached for her mug. She felt like a teenage boy who saw boobs for the first time with how easily she was aroused, and she decided to focus on just eating breakfast. Barely seven-thirty in the morning. Focus.

Halfway through her second bite, Quinn had gone off apologizing about leaving her in bed so she could start Rachel’s Monday nicely. Rachel didn’t know if she should laugh or cry about that. Laugh, because nice doesn’t even begin to cover how special and loved Quinn made her feel. Or cry, because—because, well, was Quinn even aware of exactly that? She settled on answering her best friend’s first question with a nod, followed by a long gulp of water. She didn’t notice the way Quinn blushed as she was busy trying to calm her racing heart. Was Quinn aware of how she made Rachel feel? The afternoon before, when they were a mess of limbs and cacophony of moans, Rachel made sure the blonde was aware—what with her moaning and screaming of Quinn’s name. But on a slow Monday morning like this, with a carefully-prepared breakfast laid out on a table before Rachel, Quinn’s beautiful voice in the air—was Quinn aware of how hard Rachel was further falling for her best friend?

Rachel was so caught up in her own thoughts that she almost missed the murmured comment Quinn had. Ears perked up and she almost had a whiplash on how quickly she had turned to Quinn just to make sure it was her who said those words. The way the blonde awkwardly tried to salvage herself by continuing to speak and clarify the context of her compliment made Rachel realize that she didn’t mean to say that. A soft laugh escaped her lips as she looked down at what she was wearing. A simple, black silk nightie with peach lace patterns at the hem. She hadn’t even remembered putting it on. There was the vague memory of being so sleepy they hadn’t finished the movie, and Rachel had to drag her feet to her room, shed the sweatpants and t-shirt she had worn to put on something lighter. The urge to tease Quinn was there as she looked back up her roommate, the blonde looking away as if to avoid the topic. As soon as Rachel’s gaze settled on her, however, brown eyes wandered lower, pulled by gravity. The actress licked her lips and unconsciously crossed her legs as she fully took in the sight that was Quinn Fabray. Her white shirt was thin and hid nothing, and the silhouette against her chest was something Rachel hoped was from the chill, because if Quinn’s nipples were hard for any other reason—specifically, her, and her nightgown—she might just lose it. Those shorts were probably something Quinn had already outgrown of with how short they were, and maybe it was the perfect weather, or the perfect morning she was in, but all she’d love right now was kneel between Quinn’s legs and—

“I could say the same thing about you, you know,” Rachel shot back in a soft voice that could rival Quinn’s murmured comment. Her own way of silencing her thoughts that were quickly making a headfirst dive into the gutter. She waited for Quinn’s reaction, and when hazel eyes met hers, Rachel shrugged. “It’s a pretty good Monday morning, how things are going,” she said with a small smile before going back to eat her pancakes. Perfect. She hummed around the bite of food, shooting Quinn a short glance. There was the line, the line that she had to tread. A line she shouldn’t cross, or even step on. But Quinn was so sweet and so pretty, how could Rachel not burst into song? Quinn wouldn’t probably think she meant the lyrics. It was just a song, after all. A lovely song.

"You are all I long for, all I worship and adore..”

#para8

008: Blue Skies

Quinn awoke early Monday morning to the sound of soft snoring, warm and muffled against her shoulder. If she hadn’t grown accustomed to the way Rachel sounded in her sleep — and god, didn’t that paint a perfect picture of how close they had gotten — Quinn would have rolled out of bed in alarm. Instead, she smiled sleepily and stretched, careful not to jostle the slumbering girl curled into her side. Hazel eyes flickered about Rachel as she slept, unhurried, as if lazily committing this moment to memory. How could she not, with the way chocolate hair curved around tan shoulders? Even the way Rachel’s lips had parted was endearing, or the way her nose twitched every now and then. The nose that she adored, because it was a part of Rachel. One that she had defended on more than one occasion when her roommate felt self-conscious. Simply because she could, Quinn reached forward and brushed her thumb over the small birthmark on Rachel’s cheek. The girl stirred a bit and Quinn looked over to the bedside clock. 6:30 AM, on the dot. Huh. Impressed with her internal clock, especially with how terrible her sleep had been the night before, Quinn took this moment as a sign to get up. Maybe straighten up a bit, make Rachel breakfast.

Their apartment was oddly much warmer than it normally was and Quinn cracked open the kitchen window to see that it was uncharacteristically sunny. Birds chirping, blue skies sunny. Did sleeping with Rachel Berry turn the world upside down? Chuckling and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Quinn padded to her own bedroom to change out of her thick sweatpants and into something lighter and comfortable: a white tee, her old Cheerio shorts, and some cozy tube socks. As coffee brewed, Quinn tidied up. There had been an old bowl of popcorn from the night before, some discarded blankets on the floor. Empty takeaway boxes forgotten on the counter that Quinn placed in its appropriate recycling bin. Maybe it was the nice weather, or maybe it had been the three orgasms that Rachel had given her yesterday, but Quinn was feeling fantastic. And it was a Monday. Why had she waited so long to just, properly kiss Rachel like that? She felt invigorated, healthy again. The terms on which they stood were still muddled, to say the least, but they weren’t unpleasant. Not really. Not when Rachel felt comfortable sneaking small kisses here and there the night before. Casually so, like the elevated affection between the two of them had been a natural inevitability.

God, was it? An inevitability?

Twenty minutes later, just nearly seven, Quinn was moving her hips to the beat of the music in her head, flipping pancakes with perfected technique. She wasn’t the best at baking, that had always been Rachel’s forte, but breakfast? Yeah, Quinn could do breakfast. The last time she had made a spread so pretty had been for Tom and the sour memory was unwarranted, but Quinn chased it away with how it had ended — with Rachel, sitting with her at the table, feeding her encouragement. Bare-legged. Mind out of the gutter, Quinn tutted at herself, and then went back to humming innocently, stirring some blueberries into the batter.

With blonde hair mussed from sleep, Quinn sang quietly to herself, a contented smile pulling at her lips, “Fly me to the moon, let me play among the stars…”

There was the distant shrill of the alarm clock, telling Rachel it was seven in the morning and she should get up, but what woke her first was the cold. It was cold. Uncharacteristically so, despite the familiar feeling of soft fabric against her skin, which meant she was safe under her blankets. She grumbled. Blinking away the sleep from her eyes, she was met with the Quinn’s side of the bed. Empty. A sigh left her lips as she ran her palm over it. Cold as well. She wasn’t able to stop the sting of tears on her eyes and heaviness on her chest as her mind raced in the most terrible of ways. Where was Quinn? Did she leave? Was last night a dream?She tried to shake away her tears, wiping away the stubborn drops away with the back of her hand. It wasn’t the first time she’d wake up alone in bed. Why should this instance matter? Oh, right. Because last night was spent with Quinn. In Quinn’s arms. They were okay, weren’t they? They had watched stupid movies in the living room and her roommate had agreed without hesitation to sleep in Rachel’s room. And they cuddled. Rachel vaguely remembered kissing Quinn good night. Was that too much? Did Quinn roll out of bed when the actress was deep in sleep because Rachel had stepped a line? Maybe they really needed to talk, and soon.

Heavy feet padded out of her bedroom, lithe tan body clad in nothing but her silk nightie as she rushed to search for Quinn. To ask her if they were still okay. On her way to the blonde’s room, she heard soft, distant singing, and Rachel’s head whipped to the direction of the kitchen. She saw a familiar mop of blonde hair, silhouette against the too-bright light of the morning on the window, and her mile-a-minute thoughts stopped. The sunlight seemed to flit into her own body and soul as well, warmth filling her chest. Thank goodness. Quinn didn’t leave. Of course. How foolish of her. A relieved laugh escaped her lips. They were okay, perhaps, and she was just overthinking. It must be because of the cold that greeted her, or the way she had dreaded this morning before she slept. The night had been peaceful in Quinn’s arms, and she was glad that things seemed to be fine at the moment.

It was with a smile now that Rachel entered the kitchen, eyes taking in the sight before her. Quinn had changed into a white shirt, plain red shorts, and comfortable-looking socks, looking every bit of carefree as she her hips swayed to the music she sang. Sinatra. The warmth in her chest burst further that she could feel a slight tingle in her fingertips, itching to touch Quinn, to swoop in as she cooked what Rachel realized was breakfast, embrace her from behind. It was a nice picture. Domestic. Romantic. She remembered the panic she felt thinking Quinn had gone because she overstepped the affection—was that how she should label the day before?—and realized a hug from behind was probably overstepping indeed. She vaguely remembered waking up like this, weeks before, with a pounding headache. Except now, Quinn wasn’t with Tom, which meant the blonde wasn’t happy because of him. Was it bad to hope it was because of her? Rachel gave herself a few moments to just watch, appreciating how beautiful Quinn was like that—happy, lively, singing. Perfect. It was enough for Rachel to feel immeasurable lightness.

“Hey,” she greeted, carefully so as not to startle to blonde. "You're singing." Her eyes twinkled. "I love your voice." She didn’t want to stare too long lest Quinn caught her staring. Stalker much? Her voice, though. It was rare for her to catch Quinn singing. Rachel wanted her to continue and told her so, with a soft plea and a pout to boot. She took a bottle of water from the refrigerator and walked to Quinn, sliding up beside her to glance at what she was cooking. The breakfast table was already littered with plates of fruit and pancakes. For two. She realized the smell in the air was coffee. Quinn had cooked for her. God, how was she supposed to not just lift herself on her toes and kiss the girl senseless? She was so damn sweet and lovely. The grin on Rachel’s face threatened to split her cheeks in two, but she tried to hide her glee. “How long have you been up? You could’ve woken me. I’d have helped you here.” Without meaning to, she reached out to touch the small of Quinn’s back as she walked past the blonde to sit down, but didn’t say anything. “This looks good. Blueberry pancakes?” She pinched a piece from the plate and popped it in her mouth. Just her and Quinn this morning, no Tom that would walk out in all his dashing glory from the other room. She moaned softly at the taste that exploded on her tongue and closed her eyes. Maybe she was still dreaming but this right here, Quinn in her tiny outfit, making delicious breakfast? It was the life. She could just imagine this for the rest of her life, and—wait, what? A blush settled on her cheeks as she screeched her thoughts to a halt. Slow down, Berry. It just turned seven in the morning. “I really love your pancakes,” she finally spoke, taking another piece into her mouth. She could move her exercise to that night if it meant binging on that lovely breakfast Quinn had prepared.

#para8

007: This Moment Now

nyufabray:

When Rachel laughed, comforted and light, Quinn could only smile back. She had read somewhere as a teen about infectious smiles and the idea had made her scoff, labelling it a myth. But nobody held a candle to Rachel when she was happy. It was as if somebody bottled sunshine and lent it to the brunette to use on a whim. And how dare she dangle something so precious in front of Quinn, that smile? She felt Rachel’s lips press to her cheek in a daze, flooded with the same amount of relief, and hummed softly when the little brunette nuzzled into her. “C’mere,” Quinn heard herself cooing, wrapping her arms securely around Rachel, and her body flooded with warmth. Soon afterwards, shyly and charming her, Rachel began a muffled ramble against her neck and — god, what an absolute sweetheart. Blonde lashes batted slowly as Quinn listened and she pursed her lips in disagreement when Rachel mentioned regret. Even though the word had gripped at Quinn earlier, held her hostage with the fear that her impulsiveness had ruined the security of what they had — now, with Rachel in her arms, soft and adorable? Regret was out of the question.

Is it selfish to want you too?

Quinn’s heart leapt. Fucking soared. If she wasn’t so spent, the blonde knew that Rachel would have ended up pinned to the mattress beneath her because of those words, ruining that pretty voice with pleasured screams. Instead, Quinn lifted her hand to comb back Rachel’s hair, allowing access to speak against the brunette’s delicate ear. “I don’t regret a minute of it, Rachel,” she told her slowly, deliberately. Gently. “I’ve — I’ve never felt so connected to another person, before.” Quinn felt like laughing, as they danced around the word sex. She considered adding not even Tom, but he didn’t need to be brought up. Not when Rachel was so vulnerable, all curled up against her chest like a kitten. It felt good, taking care of her for a change. Quinn took a moment to decide just how to tell Rachel how she felt, but all that came out was, “I want you so much that it scares me, baby girl.” She said it all in one breath, sighed the words, and her cheeks flared for the thirtieth time. Was it okay to call her that afterwards? Apprehensive, Quinn smoothed her hand down along Rachel’s spine in hopes to soothe her. The brunette had spoken of change, and it was inevitable, but what was the severity of it? “You’re my person, Rach. Nothing will ruin that.” She scratched gently at Rachel’s scalp with short nails before lifting her head to place a lingering kiss of her own against a golden cheek. “I promise.”

Sweeter words have never been spoken to Rachel. That assurance from Quinn that she didn’t regret what happened, that nothing would ruin their friendship—it was enough to anchor Rachel to the ground, to silence her doubts, but not the questions that lingered in her mind. She tried not to notice the way her heart skipped when Quinn called her baby girl, but what did she mean when she said she wanted Rachel so much? Did she mean it like how Rachel did? Or was it—was it fear borne out of the uncertainties this…arrangement would bring them? Will there be a repeat of this? She sighed against pale skin as the blonde ran her fingers through her hair and kissed her cheek. She’d rather not think about it. She was content being just like this. Was that selfish? As long as Quinn wasn’t running for the hills, then she’d be okay. They were okay. For now, at least. Rachel didn’t speak, just content in staying in the blonde’s arms in that comfortable silence. It was only when they heard the rumbling of someone’s stomach—perhaps it was from both of them—that the actress decided to look up from where she was comfortably nuzzled in Quinn’s neck to check the time. It was well into the afternoon, and they had certainly skipped breakfast and lunch. With much hesitance, Rachel pulled herself away from Quinn’s warm embrace, but not without a soft kiss to the girl’s cheek. Another assurance that things might have gone...physical for both of them but things didn’t have to change. Like how they promised each other. They were best friends, right? Best friends with a little bit of benefits now, perhaps.

Rachel took a silk nightie from her closet to wear and Quinn left for her room to get something to cover herself up as well. She smirked at the purple hickey that screamed against pale skin but tried to brush off the feeling of possessiveness. Quinn might have said that Rachel was her person, but that didn’t mean she was hers. That didn’t stop her from feeling particularly smug about it, though. She was still on top of the world at making Quinn Fabray come, and the cherry topping on the cake was that their relationship has gone relatively unscathed. Even better, well, Quinn had said things that Rachel never imagined she’d hear from the blonde. They weren’t I love yous, but they were certainly enough for the diva to make it through rainy days.

They decided to get some takeout, neither of them having much energy to cook or pretty much do anything after what they had done. Admitting it out loud made both of them blush. Quinn was absolutely adorable, so much more than how she usually was, and Rachel had to fight the urge to kiss her senseless again and again. The blonde might be fine with what happened—sex, Rachel, why can’t you say it? she mentally berated herself—but that didn’t mean she was fine with the diva just…jumping on her. The rest of they day went by fast, considering they had done nothing for the greater half of it. Late lunch-slash-early dinner was spent watching crappy reality shows, like they usually did, and the familiarity of it all was comforting. The newness of their arrangement of sorts was something Rachel found herself curious about, especially as she found herself wanting more as Quinn’s touch lingered on olive skin. Rachel cleaned up the take out boxes with a kiss on Quinn’s cheek as she made her way to the kitchen, and the blonde only blushed. It was a little awkward, but the type that was adorable and not tension-inducing. Like they were getting to know each other in a different light. Maybe because things were so new, and Rachel hoped that they would fall into the familiarity that she was fond of. That she found comfort in.

They were still best friends. They ought to act like how they normally act—close. Comfortable. No one would probably bat an eye on such close friends like them, even if Quinn’s lips somehow found Rachel’s sensitive spot on her neck again as they cuddled on the couch and watched whatever movie was playing as the night wore on. She remembered Quinn’s almost slurred words earlier that morning, how long it’s been since they cuddled, so she welcomed it with a wide grin. It was in this context that Rachel suggested that Quinn sleep in her bed—she had changed the sheets earlier that night, of course. It wasn’t a rare occurrence for them to do so, anyway, at least before Tom was in the picture. Best friends cuddled, right? It took some time for them to get cozy, what with the onslaught of fresh memories that both of them remembered vividly, but they just laughed at it. Comfortable familiarity. They were working on it. Best friends? Rachel could do that, she thought, before she fell asleep, limbs tangled with Quinn’s.

007: This Moment Now

nyufabray:

As if Rachel had been burned by her plea, the brunette pulled back and Quinn felt her heart crack open. Fuck. She had messed up. Hardly two minutes after sex with the woman she had feelings for, she had started crying. Quinn was breaking all of the records lately on how pathetic she could act, or feel. Or present herself as. If she kept this up, Rachel would never consider talking about whatever was going on between them. So Quinn knew that she had to stop crying, to just — man the hell up and act like a normal human being. But then Rachel was sweetly caressing her with that pet name and telling her that she was staying, so naturally, tears of relief sprung to hazel eyes. The pain in Quinn’s chest slowly soothed into something manageable, with Rachel wiping away her tears and giving her that look again. The same look the brunette had given her before properly fucking her. It made the concept of hope, of some sort of future seem… possible, maybe. Easier to reach. To believe in.

Letting Rachel’s soft cooing and reassuring settle her, Quinn nodded with the tiniest of smiles, wanting the brunette to know that her words were affecting her. God damn it, they always did, no matter the conflict. She could get shot in the damn leg and if Rachel told her that hey, it’s fine — Quinn would probably just fucking nod in agreement. Who needs a leg, anyway, when she has Rachel? Whatever it was that she felt for the tiny brunette she lived with was growing, steadily and unceasing, and Quinn knew that this would be one of the biggest hurdles she’d ever have to jump over. But if shecould still accept tender, little kisses from Rachel in the end, it would be worth it. She held the side of Rachel’s face, carefully, as if she’d break, and caught her gaze. Those fucking eyes. If you let me. As if Rachel would ever need to persuade her to stay. Quinn’s smile blossomed and she leaned forward the inch needed to give her a soft kiss of her own.

When she pulled back, the blonde licked her lips and let her gaze fall to Rachel’s collarbone. “I’m sorry.” Her already flushed cheeks burned, itchy from dried tears. Quinn let out a short, embarrassed laugh. “I’m sure it’s unattractive, crying after…” A shy pause. Was she really struggling to say the word sex after whispering absolute filth into Rachel’s ear minutes before? She chewed on her lip and dared to look back up. Briefly. Then, back down in shame. “I have — abandonment issues, probably,” she mumbled, a crease between her brows. “And this was special to me, and I was afraid that you’d…” Bare, pale shoulders lifted in a timid shrug. “You know. Go.” Everyone else has, Quinn felt like adding, but this wasn’t supposed to be a pity party. Rachel wasn’t going anywhere, she said. She was never going to lose her. Quinn firmly reminded herself, in this steamy bedroom that smelled of sex and sweat, that Rachel wasn’t everyone else. This time, when she lifted her gaze, it stayed put. “For the record, you’re never gonna lose me, either.” Her frown lifted and her expression screamed soft. “I couldn’t bare it.”

The unease Rachel was beginning to feel slowly dissipated with that simple kiss from Quinn. Her eyes fluttered shut and she sighed contently, but frowned at her best friend’s apology. Abandonment issues? That was, in a sense, understandable. The blonde had her fair share of circumstances to fear Rachel leaving. There was her father, and more recently, Tom. If she wasn't too tired physically and mentally, she could probably entertain the rage she still had brewing over the Tom incident. She couldn't though, most especially since she knew Quinn needed her now. Rachel did, however, pick up on that little statement. This was special to me. She wasn't able to stop her heart from skipping a beat if she tried. Quinn said this was special to her. Maybe they'd be okay. Was that too optimistic of her? “Hey,” she murmured, running her thumb over the tear tracks on Quinn’s cheeks. “Don’t be sorry. And please. You’re still beautiful.” She smiled and chuckled softly, gaze never leaving Quinn’s face even as the blonde struggled to meet her eyes, only shyly flitting through everywhere else but Rachel.

She waited patiently, and when hazel eyes locked with hers, her ready-for-Broadway lungs almost collapsed with how her breath caught in her throat. Quinn's expression was vulnerable, like she would break any minute, and spoke words that almost drove the confession out of Rachel. Instead she laughed, a soft, delicate laugh that screamed relief. She kissed Quinn’s cheek before shifting a little so she wasn’t crushing the blonde as much, and nuzzled her neck. Pulled Quinn's arms around her tighter. "Does—" She bit her lip. Was it pathetic to ask now? She wanted to know. "This isn't... This isn't going to change us, is it?" She asked softly, voice hopeful but uncertain. A deep breath that drowned her in the smell of Quinn was enough to soothe her once more. Quinn was warm, and Rachel just wanted to fall asleep like this. She brushed her nose across the pale skin of the blonde's neck. “Although I did get worried there for a bit,” she admitted. “I thought you'd—I thought you regret it already. What happened... So you cried.” She was silent for a moment, mulling the next words to say. Holding on more tightly to Quinn, she sighed. "I don't —I don't want us to regret it." She should probably look in her best friend's eyes while saying this, but she wasn't sure she could. What if she ended up breaking down? She could already feel the tears building up. "This is—You're the most important person in my life Quinn. I don't... I don't want this to ruin us. I mean—I wanted it. That. All that. And..." She bit her lip and swallowed thickly. Maybe she should stop talking altogether. "Is it selfish to want you too?"

007: This Moment Now

nyufabray:

There was something about Rachel’s determination in bed that had Quinn wailing, girlish and high. Her legs quaked impossibly, lungs searing with every gasp, not having been able to take a proper breath since the brunette’s mouth had settled between her thighs. Pale skin glistened with sweat, her voice starting to fade again with all of the crying out. It had still been hoarse from her previous bout of bronchitis and all of Quinn’s shrieking definitely wasn’t helping it heal. But the blonde really didn’t have any choice, or any say in the matter because Rachel was building her up to not one, but two more orgasms with her talented tongue and hungry mouth. As she came down from her third climax — the most powerful of them, as it had been at the peak of her sensitivity — Quinn whined softly and gave a gentle tug to Rachel’s shoulder. “H-Honey… I ca-an’t again…” she panted, voice delirious. “I’ll pass out…” As much as pushing pause on their heated moment scared her, Quinn didn’t have any energy left. Sex with Rachel felt on-par with the marathon she ran after talking to Judy, muscles aching, body quivering. Though this had been far better than running at the gym, Quinn concluded. Much more therapeutic. How wonderful would it have been, to take out her family frustrations with a good old romp around in the bed with her roommate?

“Lemme hold you,” Quinn found herself murmuring, light-headed and sated. The inside of her thigh stung and she didn’t need to look down to know that there was a sizable bruise forming there. The thought made her shiver. A sort of private reminder that would stick around for maybe an entire week. She was suddenly filled with regret, for not having marked Rachel in any way — but she did get to make the brunette fall apart twice, and that was better than any hickey. This sober memory of their Sunday afternoon would last forever. Sore and still trying to catch her breath, Quinn gingerly pulled Rachel into her arms and pressed a weak kiss to the side of her head. “Just lemme…” An affectionate nuzzle to her hair, heart still racing. Their naked bodies were now flush and Quinn had to swallow away another moan to not sound like a total whore. Resounding and mocking her, the word mine made its way back into Quinn’s mind and she squeezed her eyes tight. Sex didn’t equal ownership. It often didn’t equal much of anything. Her heart stuttered. Sleeping with Rachel was the furthest thing from nothing to Quinn. Her grip tightened and she tangled one of her ankles with Rachel’s. “Lemme hold you,” she repeated, much softer this time. “Please.”

As her breathing evened out and her heart rate quelled and ebbed into something less concerning, the blonde let herself enjoy this moment. To take it all in, drown herself in Rachel Berry. Paranoia that had been instilled in her since childhood made itself known in Quinn’s chest, twisting uncomfortably and making her wince. Why did everything in her life always have to be filled with such uncertainty? Though, she was certain that she’d die, she’d simply die if this all turned out to be a dream, if Quinn woke up cold and alone in her own bed with the taste of Rachel no longer lingering on her lips. Before she knew it, Quinn was pressing soft kisses all over the brunette’s face and neck and shoulders. And following those kisses, pathetically, were silent, hot tears that Quinn didn’t realize were falling. Into Rachel’s neck, she sniffled quietly. “Please don’t go.”

One of the things Rachel prided herself in was self-control. Which would explain why Rachel Berry had never had an addiction. Broadway clearly wasn’t counted—that was her life—but she had found that control was necessary for several things. For example, that one time she rediscovered sugar, she managed to curb her cravings into something healthier and more productive. She’d manage to save for tickets to Wicked when she was in high school as well, because she managed to control herself from buying anything that wasn’t remotely necessary to survival. Said self-control, however, had started to dwindle around two years back, when a blonde goddess came knocking on her apartment door.

Said self-control had vanished now, as Rachel licked up Quinn’s pussy once more. It was safe to say she was addicted. Quinn's was—Quinn was fucking perfect. The blonde’s core was pink, soaked with come and spit, and the diva just couldn’t get enough of her. Couldn’t get enough of the way Quinn moaned and screamed for her, the way her perfect eyebrows would furrow as she chased her orgasm, how her airy voice would take a higher pitch when Rachel would suck on her clit. What was self-control, again? She just wanted to keep tasting Quinn, keeping making Quinn come like that, that she didn’t realize how long she had stayed there between the blonde’s legs until her roommate was nudging her shoulder, telling her to stop because she just couldn’t come anymore. Although the idea of making Quinn pass out from orgasms was something very enticing, she did say no, so with a final kiss to Quinn’s pussy, Rachel pulled away with a satisfied grin. One that widened when the blonde asked to hold Rachel. Just who could say no to cuddles after sex? That was what they did, wasn’t it? Sex. Sober sex, both things that Rachel hadn’t had in a long time. She crawled into the blonde’s arms, sinking into warmth as she pressed a kiss on the corner of Quinn's lips. The way her roommate held her, however, felt different. Rachel's grin faltered, especially when that soft voice reached her ears—almost as if Quinn was pleading to hold her now. Her eyebrows furrowed even as she nestled her face against the crook of the blonde's neck—Quinn seemed to hold her tighter. Kissing her, again, begging her to not go. And then she heard—sniffling? Was Quinn crying? Rachel pulled away abruptly, too abruptly that Quinn froze, and the diva realized her mistake. Quinn must have thought she was leaving, right after she literally just begged her to stay. She placed her weight on an elbow and stayed still, maintaining every inch of skin contact with her roommate as assurance that no, she wasn't going. She reached out to brush blonde hair out of her roommate's face, her fingers trembling when she realized that Quinn was, indeed, crying. Did she do something wrong? Did Rachel say anything?

"Quinn." Her voice cracked with worry. Was—she couldn't be regretting what they had done when she had asked Rachel to stay, right? "Baby. Hey, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, Quinn." Words rushed from her lips before she could stop them—anything to keep the tears away from Quinn's beautiful eyes, yet at the same time, she knew she meant them. Will always mean them, from the time she comforted the blonde as she cried about her parents, to the time she took care of the shivering girl just a few days ago. They had shared so much time together, and Rachel's heart clenched painfully in her chest. This—this pleasure they had just experienced—will this ruin them? Ruin the friendship they had built? She hoped and prayed to god it wouldn't. It would break her. Regret and unease started filling Rachel, like the ocean in a sinking boat, and she wiped the hot tears marring those perfect cheeks. "Don't cry, baby," she murmured, and fuck, was it hard to keep it together when Quinn was begging her to stay, looking like Rachel was her only shred of hope. Could it mean that—Was there a possibility that— Rachel could only hope, could only bite down on the insides of her cheeks to stop herself from saying those three words. Not yet. This didn't constitute as talking. There were so many things to talk about—like what their sex meant, for one. This little dance they had, ever since Sweaty Sailors. What did it mean when Quinn said she wanted to hold Rachel? What did it mean that she was asking for her to stay?

What did it mean for them, when they leave this bed?

"I—I'm not going anywhere, baby." Maybe she should start with not using that pet name? "I told you. You're not ever going to lose me. Okay?" Rachel cupped Quinn's face, gazing into those watery hazel eyes so the blonde knew she meant every word. Would Quinn feel her love—romantic, passionate, burning, more than just a best friend love—despite the lack of actual words? Would the vulnerable state of both of them make this situation more delicate than it was? Their...relationship dangled on a string. "There's nowhere else I'd rather—I'd really rather stay in your arms. With you," Rachel whispered. She leaned down, pressed her forehead against Quinn's, and kissed her. Soft, innocent. She felt warmth burst in her chest, despite her growing unease—and the boat is sinking, so is she, falling, falling deeper into the ocean that was Quinn Fabray with no sign of return in sight. She wasn't sure she wanted to come back to the shore, anyway. "If you let me."

007: This Moment Now

nyufabray:

When Rachel’s fingers finally slid inside of her, providing her with the delicious friction her body had been craving for the past hour — hell, for the past week since Sweaty Sailors, Quinn was beside herself with lust. “Rachel,” she groaned lowly, hips bucking up, heart swelling again because her roommate, her best friend was inside of her. Properly fucking her pussy. And it was so much better than she ever could have imagined anybody ever touching her. She tried not to dwell on it, but it became clear to Quinn very quickly that Rachel was good at this. Too good. Certainly better than she herself was with her own body, because Rachel was hitting spots in her that Quinn didn’t know existed. It made sense. Rachel was interested in women, had been with other women. How many, Quinn didn’t know if she’d ever have the courage to ask, but clearly enough for Rachel to wreck the blonde with some steady thrusting.

A mess of stupid whimpers and strings of needy curses, Quinn tried to keep eye contact, hands still tangled in silky brown locks. Just to keep her grounded, to remind her that all of this was real and not some elaborate pipe dream. Rachel was above her, beautifully naked, thumbing her clit and looking at her like Quinn was her world. Overcome by it all, the blonde tilted her head up in hopes to kiss her, but Rachel’s hot mouth had descended intimately down her neck and Quinn mewled. “Fuck, I love — “ She choked on her words, just for a moment, before saving herself. “ — it when you bite.” It wasn’t a lie, far from it. Quinn enjoyed a guilty amount of pain in bed. But it also wasn’t the I love you the blonde had dancing on her tongue. If anything could break this heated bubble, Quinn was certain that such a declaration would do it. She had told Rachel she loved her countless times; there was no secret when it came to how much Quinn adored and appreciated her best friend, but an I love you after a silly fit of giggles was different than one in the throws of passion. Rachel started to fuck her faster, speaking sinfully, and Quinn clenched hard around the brunette’s talented fingers—fingers that pulled out shortly after.

Due to her level of arousal, Rachel’s playful question hadn’t reached Quinn’s ears. Had she done something wrong? She blinked furiously in her confusion and was about to timidly ask, but then her roommate was down between her legs, kissing her fucking pussy with those beautiful lips. She saw stars. “Nnngh, fuck!” Quinn all but sobbed, back arching high off of the mattress, and she threw her head back with a loud cry when she felt Rachel’s warm tongue. “Oh, fuck, baby girl!” Both hands moved from clawing at the mattress to tightly holding the brunette’s head in place. The amount of pleasure wracking Quinn’s body could make a person hyperventilate, especially when Rachel started sucking on her clit perfectly. “So good, Rachel, so fu-ucking good,” she whimpered pathetically, hips rolling to meet each stroke. She tried to hold off her orgasm, just to properly enjoy how fucking wonderful Rachel was at eating her pussy, but it was damn near impossible with the brunette now fucking her at the same time. Out of her mind with arousal, Quinn peered down at Rachel and felt herself jump that much closer to her climax at the sight. Rachel Berry, devouring her pussy in earnest. Thrashing a bit and out of breath, Quinn let her head fall back hard against the pillow, whining out in a voice much higher than her own, “Jesus, Rach, you’re fucking me s-so good — you’re gonna make me c-come so hard— ! ” And with one last, delicious suck against her clit, Quinn abruptly grabbed Rachel’s free hand and tangled their fingers. “Oh god, baby, I’m gonna! I’m gonna! Fuck, Rachel!” Seeing white, Quinn absolutely shattered.

Hands were immediately on her head when Rachel latched on to Quinn’s clit. She figured that was probably what she had done to the blonde earlier—probably even worse, if the state of mussed golden locks was anything to go by—but she certainly wasn’t complaining. The sting on her scalp added to the burning desire in her belly. And with those strings of curses escaping Quinn’s lips? She even called her baby girl, and god, how does a pet name make Rachel both shiver with hunger and feel warm all over? Was this how Rachel sounded like earlier, moaning and whimpering Quinn’s name like some debauched…slut? Not that she thought Quinn was one, not at all—she did believe that girls want sex as much as boys do, and it was sexy when a woman knew what she wanted—but the idea of Quinn being like this, for her? Or being Quinn’s slut? Fuck, she shouldn’t really be getting ahead of herself. Not when the present was such a sight. Rachel groaned against the blonde’s pussy at how hot she looked, rolling her hips like that to meet her tongue and fingers. Music. Quinn was making sweet, sweet music as Rachel made love to her. Wait—made love? Was that what she was doing? She was touching Quinn. Yes. Intimately. In a way she had only dreamed and fantasized before, and Quinn was—Quinn was moaning for her. For her. Telling Rachel that she was fucking her so good. Christ. And she was going to come. Quinn Fabray, the light and love of her life, was going to come on her fingers. And mouth. Rachel found Quinn’s clit again, fingers curling and brushing against that spot she discovered made the blonde quiver with whimpers, as her roommate thrashed on the bed, grabbed her free hand and laced their fingers together.

Baby. Quinn. Mine, mine, mine.

Then Quinn was coming, tight pussy fluttering around Rachel’s moving fingers, hand holding hers like she was her anchor as her orgasm washed over her. It was indescribable, how Quinn looked in that moment—out of control, almost drowning in pleasure, all because of Rachel. She knew then she wanted to be the one to always make Quinn feel like that. She drew out the blonde’s climax, slowing down her movements to lazy strokes as she kissed the girl’s sensitive clit, then the pale skin of Quinn’s thigh over her shoulder. Grazed sensitive skin between her teeth before sucking, just to mark Quinn someplace else. She smirked at the artwork the blonde might never notice. “Mm. Mine,” she whispered without thought. Rachel pulled out again, wiped her messy fingers on the sheets—she really ought to change them tonight—before pulling Quinn’s other thigh over her shoulder. She needed to watch Quinn fall apart like that again. Besides, Quinn did give her a handful of orgasms. She wasn’t being greedy, just fair. And certainly not competitive. She just wanted to hear her scream Rachel’s name like that again. And again and again and again, if Rachel had her way, she thought, as she gently lapped up the girl’s essence. If her mouth wasn’t busy with cleaning Quinn up, she’d probably have said something stupid, like confessing her long-time love for the blonde. Maybe she should say it, while Quinn was still riding her daze. Except, the diva was already swept up in her current ministrations, fingers lazily tracing shapes all over pale stomach and thighs as she busied herself between Quinn’s legs, tongue gently swirling and sucking her roommate’s clit just to slowly build her up again. They had time.

007: This Moment Now

nyufabray:

When Rachel complied without pause, stroking her hair just the way Quinn liked it and calling her baby in a voice so soft, that she could melt right into it — Quinn knew she was a goner. She blushed in a sort of blissful daze, toes curling, heart skipping. Was this what it felt like to be happy, truly? To have one little word give her wings, just because it came from Rachel? Maybe the brunette was just as blissed and that was why she didn’t hesitate, but Quinn didn’t care. They had this moment, with Rachel holding her face and kissing her, even with the sexual tension having left her body. Which was a good sign, right? Her roommate still wanted to kiss her afterward? Maybe it meant that Rachel liked her too, outside of their now-obvious physical chemistry. Which was exhilarating. And terrifying. Lips buzzing and body shaking with need, Quinn hummed lowly into Rachel’s kisses and let herself dive back into present.

And it wasn’t difficult to do, what with Rachel’s hand warmly cupping her breast and teasing her nipple. Quinn jerked her hips forward with a soft, girlish whine, her grip on the brunette’s waist tightening at the much-needed attention. Especially when Rachel coyly soothed the sting, sending pleasured shivers up her spine, and — god, her pussy throbbed in anticipation. Quinn was too horny to even think of a reply to that sexy little quip and whimpered against Rachel’s mouth, parting her lips to kiss her back in earnest. A sharp, needy moan ripped out of her throat when she suddenly felt Rachel’s fingers teasing her pussy and Quinn rolled onto her back without a moment’s hesitation. Fuck, she’d lay any way Rachel asked of her, as long as she kept touching her. The blonde cupped Rachel’s face with both hands as she kissed her, fingertips tangling in brown hair, and she spread her thighs without shame. Quinn was mostly certain she’d black out if she didn’t come soon. So wet. Christ. All she could do was nod furiously with a choked moan, on the edge of begging.

When Rachel looked down at her with such love and consideration, slowly rubbing circles against her clit, Quinn thought she might cry. Her heart exploded with heat, never having known that sex could be so tender. Despite herself, she let out a soft chuckle — which quickly turned into a choppy, breathy moan — and leaned up to kiss Rachel soundly. “Please, h-honey,” she pleaded through whimpers, hips trembling. “I need you so — nngh, so bad,“ The rest came out all at once. “God, I don’t care how, just please fuck me, baby, you made me so wet —“

Honey. Rachel has certainly never been called that—most certainly not during sex anyway. She smiled down at the blonde as she watched her practically beg. Hearing everything coming from Quinn’s lips was music to her ears. She knew she a lucky girl, sharing living quarters with Quinn Fabray of all people. This beautiful, lovely, overall amazing human being. Add to that the fact that the blonde was her actual best friend—someone who believed in her as much as her fathers did, who loved to watch Funny Girl with Rachel as much as the diva loved the musical. Was she dreaming? She could certainly get used to this, she thought, watching her roommate’s eyelids flutter shut as she flicked her clit once more, just to tease, and when Quinn answered with that hurried request, Rachel gently slipped her index and middle finger inside her. She bit her lip at the hot, tight wetness she was met with and the reaction she got from Quinn, making sure to file each and every memory in her heart. The blonde looked vulnerable, and to think that she trusted Rachel with a moment such as this? It had to be something more than just lust, right? And Quinn had said things before, like wanting to hold Rachel, something close to being attracted to her, was it? She couldn’t really recall things properly at the moment, but maybe they could be points of conversation later. Much later, because Rachel still had plans for the girl underneath her.

Without hesitation, Rachel started moving her wrist, fingers stroking Quinn in a practiced precision she had perfected over years of both loving on herself and the few girls she had been with. Not that she was thinking of them; far from it. Rachel could only gaze down lovingly at Quinn, all flushed and breathless and beautiful, bless her, and the one making her like this was Rachel Berry. Not anyone else. When she hurriedly left the bathroom the night before, did Marlye touch her like this? She bit her lip, shifted so she could lean in and kiss down Quinn’s neck, tongue teasing that spot she had left on a pale shoulder as she curled her fingers. A kiss, a hungry nip on skin. Lips trailed higher as fingers moved faster, nibbling Quinn’s ear when she could as Rachel’s thumb brushed against her pulsing clit. “You’re so gorgeous like this, baby,” she breathed out. Quinn’s walls were already choking her fingers. Rachel guessed she was probably close, though she had yet to find out about all the little things that Quinn did in bed. She hoped she’d slowly discover these quirks, much like she had found out when they were new roommates—like how Quinn would yawn and walk around a couple of times before she made coffee, which Rachel managed to pick up so she’d make a pot for the blonde. Or which color of paper clips stood for which subject she was reading about. Managing to push herself up with her hand, she kissed the girl quickly and grinned, like someone who just had the best idea in the world. “You wouldn’t mind if I get a proper taste this time, would you?” She pulled out despite the urge to stay right where she was and keep Quinn moaning with her fingers.

That was the only warning she gave the blonde before Rachel positioned herself between Quinn’s legs, much like how she was earlier. Fuck. Quinn was perfect in every sense of the word, and Rachel just wanted to take all the time in the world to worship her like the goddess she was. She pulled Quinn’s right leg over her left shoulder and nudged the other with a kiss, urging her roommate to spread her thighs for her. Displaying her pussy all for Rachel. The streak of possessiveness she felt must have sprung out from all the jealousy she left burning—what with thoughts of Marley and Quinn still lingering in her head despite her pushing them back. Mine. With a smile towards the blonde, Rachel kissed her clit once, twice, thrice. Broadly licked from her soaked slit up, up, up, fully taking in the taste that was Quinn. She was addicted now. Fuck, Rachel was truly, utterly destroyed for anyone else. Was that so bad? She repeated her movements, slowly, reverently, like she was studying the blonde’s expressions with each stroke of her tongue, before she was sucking her clit. Softly at first, before flicking it with her tongue again, and again. Teased Quinn’s entrance with the fingers she fucked her with earlier until she was filling her once more, digits buried deep inside her tight, wet pussy while Rachel took her time suckling on that sensitive bud. God, she thought, watching Quinn’s every reaction. Her free hand reached up and palmed the blonde’s breast. I love this woman.

007: This Moment Now

nyufabray:

Was this what Quinn had been missing out on for two years? This beautiful, talented, compassionate brunette that loved to scream for her in the sheets? She hated herself for wasting so much time on Tom. Her feelings for Rachel hadn’t been clear before, but his presence had definitely put them on hold. It was hard for Quinn to not live with regret — how could she, with Rachel leaning up on her elbow and pushing back her blonde hair in a way that was both so fucking sweet and dirty? There Rachel was, looking down at Quinn, fully taking in the sight of her pussy being eaten. What a princess. The blonde felt like she could come at any moment, and that would be fine, really. As much as Quinn wanted Rachel’s hands and mouth on her own body, seeing the brunette writhe and — holy shit, slowly starting to fuck her mouth, filled her with enough sexual satisfaction to last her the rest of the year. Before now, Quinn had never really enjoyed her own name, despite the fact that it was her middle. It sounded boyish, and if she was being honest with herself, she didn’t feel as though it truly fit her. But when Rachel said it, over and over, sometimes through a whimper, other times in a scream? There was nobody else she’d rather be.

When Rachel collapsed back onto the bed and started to tug at her hair again, Quinn smirked against her clit. She knew that the brunette had it in her. And this second, approaching orgasm seemed to have made Rachel even dirtier, if the way she shamelessly bucked her hips and whined like a porn star had anything to say about it. She kept blowing Quinn away, and the blonde groaned when she felt Rachel’s pussy convulse against her tongue. Such a good girl, taking it like that. Even though Quinn had been happily camped down between Rachel’s legs for nearly ten minutes, she only pulled away when her roommate weakly told her. And she did with a flushed, satisfied smile, wiping at her cheeks and chin with the back of her hand so she didn’t look like a complete mess. There was a new, phenomenal warmth settling in her chest that came with making Rachel come. Something that she’d hope would become familiar with time. The friction between her legs that came with sitting up made Quinn chomp down on her lip to keep from moaning. Her pussy was just — so wet. Painfully. But the adorable c’mere, baby, had Quinn beaming and scooting up to lay next to the beautiful brunette catching her breath.

A soft kiss to Rachel’s cheek. Her nose. Her temple. Her chin. Reminiscent of when she had kissed Rachel for the first time, after the news of Night Lights. She pressed a final, sweet kiss to the brunette’s lips before settling next to her. Now laying on her side, Quinn affectionately smoothed her palm over Rachel’s ribs and stomach. “Call me that again,” she requested shyly, wanting to drown herself in the loving security that came with Rachel calling her baby. Also, the distraction was needed, because she was dangerously close to grinding against the brunette’s hip just to find that release. Her nipples still ached and there was no possible way for Quinn to cease her trembling. She pressed a bashful kiss to Rachel’s shoulder, timidly, as if she hadn’t just been eating her out. “I really like it when you do.”

For a few moments while Rachel tried to catch her breath, she could only lay on the bed, delirious with pleasure, body heavy, and eyes unfocused. She didn’t even realize Quinn had fulfilled her request until she felt lips on her cheeks. A soft giggle escaped her as the blonde continued to kiss her tenderly, as if she hadn’t just eaten Rachel’s pussy until she was a screaming mess. At the kiss on her lips, the brunette couldn’t help but lick them wet once more with her tongue, moaning when she tasted it—tasted herself, the mess that she made on Quinn’s pretty mouth. She laid on her side as well, facing the blonde, expression partly dazed, mostly turned on. With Quinn’s request finally dawning on her, Rachel gave the girl a bashful grin—as if she wasn’t just screaming Quinn’s name for all of New York to hear. “Baby,” she said softly. She smiled and repeated it, reaching out to fix blonde hair that she messed up. It was a perfect time to say she loved Quinn, but slowly, some semblance of rational thought seeped into her still spinning head and Rachel bit the urge to say those damned words. Maybe she should just tease Quinn of the mess she had on her chin—or better yet ask her what she thought of veganism now. Should they have the talk? Rachel wasn’t in the right mind yet. Christ, she was sure all moisture in her body was between her legs, on the sheets, or heck, Quinn’s tongue, and she needed to replenish all fluids first. A dehydrated mind isn’t one fit for a conversation, especially the one they needed to have. Maybe later. Later. Surely a few minutes more like this wouldn’t hurt. She wanted to return the favor, after all. And the way Quinn seemed to be vibrating with frustration was something Rachel didn’t miss as well.

So it wasn’t for completely selfish reasons that Rachel cupped Quinn’s face and kissed her. Softly, at first, before doing it again, more firmly this time. And again. Took Quinn’s lower lip between her teeth and tugged. “So,” she began when she pulled away, far enough to speak clearly but close enough that their lips still brushed. The hand on Quinn’s face trailed lower, lower until she was cupping the blonde’s breast. “Do I want to know where the hell you learned that?” She punctuated her question with a tug on Quinn’s nipple before soothing it with her thumb. Her expression was teasing, a smirk on her face in case Quinn thought she was accusing her or something, especially given the night before. Before the blonde could answer, Rachel was kissing her again, her fingers with a destination: between Quinn’s legs, where she had been earlier until, well, what Quinn did. A curious tongue swiped on the blonde’s lower lip, seeking entrance, as her fingers brushed against her wet core. Rachel couldn’t help but moan. Quinn was wet. Fucking soaked. All because of Rachel.

“On your back, baby,” Rachel whispered against the girl’s lips as she nudged her. “I need to touch you. Please?” Needed to continue her earlier exploration of the curves on Quinn’s beautiful body. The anticipation made her stomach flip. She wanted—needed Quinn to be comfortable. To trust her. Like how Quinn made her feel. Have her worked up again until she was begging to be fucked, even if the way she was dripping on Rachel’s sheets was already an indication of how turned on she was. When Quinn was on her back, Rachel leaned up to rest on an elbow and kissed her again as she slowly dipped a finger between the blonde’s parted legs, down her slit. Rachel pulled back to sigh brokenly against Quinn’s lips. “So wet.” And hot. She licked her lips and stared down at her roommate’s face, wanting to make sure she was okay. It may not be Quinn’s first time, but it was their first time together, and Rachel will be damned if it doesn’t go to the blonde’s fondest memories. Collecting wetness with two fingers, she circled them over Quinn’s clit, noting every reaction that passed over her face. Every gasp, moan, whimper. “Is this—is this okay?” She asked softly. “Can I—More?”

007: This Moment Now

nyufabray:

Deeply enjoying the symphony of curses and all of the fucking beautiful noise coming out of the brunette, Quinn couldn’t wrap her head around how lucky she was. Not everybody could say that they got into bed with their crush and brought them to pleasured hysterics. All of that, without liquor. And not five hours after a bad break up. She was now completely over Tom Bradley and Marley had been her hypothetical rebound, so everything in this moment — Rachel calling her baby, hot and writhing, pussy wet against her tongue — was very, very real. The brunette was a fucking sex kitten, whining and calling out her name whenever Quinn flicked her tongue just right. She looked up after a few moments with a swirling tongue, the world around them falling away with how blown her eyes were, and admired the work of art in front of her. That beautiful, golden body squirming for her. Because of what she was doing. Quinn groaned happily and lapped at her with vigor.

Coming. The word made Quinn’s hips jut into the mattress, definitely leaving a damp mark on Rachel’s poor sheets, and her nails dug harder. God, she was going to make her freaking roommate and best friend of two years come. With her mouth. The tugs to blonde hair grew harsher, making Quinn whine in frustration, and she could tell that Rachel was on the very edge. Was it bad, to want the heels of Rachel’s feet to leave bruises on her back? Just to have a distant, dull throb to remind her of how perfect Rachel was when she ate her out? Quinn wanted this moment to last forever, wanted to keep the brunette in this state of tortured pleasure for as long as she could, but the idea of watching Rachel come for the first time was enough to almost give Quinn an orgasm of her own. So she flicked at the brunette’s clit with her tongue as fast as she could and whined when she felt Rachel exclaim that she was indeed, finally — after a week of tension — fucking coming.

Hail Mary, full of grace, what an image. As it hit the brunette wave after wave, Quinn tenderly smoothed her palms over the curves of Rachel’s body. Her hips, her ribs. The dip of her stomach. Back up along her thighs. Just so she’d feel safe and warm and cared for, as she came. And even with her own pussy aching and ruining the bed with need, Quinn could only gaze up at Rachel lovingly, lapping decreasing in speed for a moment — before speeding right back up when she felt Rachel’s orgasm was dwindling away. Nuh-uh. Another. If Quinn had anything to say about it, she’d keep the brunette coming and coming until she passed out or told her enough. With her chin and nose and cheeks wet with Rachel, Quinn dipped her tongue into her roommate’s entrance as she greedily sucked. C’mon, Rach. She reached up to tweak harshly at one of Rachel’s nipples. Another.

Everything was a blur for a second. Rachel hadn’t realized how harshly she was pulling on Quinn’s hair or fisted on the sheets, her heels digging against the blonde’s back as she came back arched, for the first time, on Quinn’s tongue. Almost two years, she had dreamt about this—along with the fantasies of taking Quinn out, and Quinn taking her out, her meeting Rachel’s dads, the cute little dinners and all-nighters watching whatever stupid show—yet it was nothing compared to reality. Her orgasm from last week from her favorite bullet vibrator couldn’t even compare. Pleasure burned every nerve ending and she tried her best to catch her breath, a boneless lump on the bed as she came down from her high. Her grip finally loosened on Quinn’s hair and she apologetically soothed the girl’s scalp with careful fingers. Except, Quinn’s gentle licking on her spasming pussy continued, slowly but surely, and Rachel whined when that stupidly talented tongue dipped inside her and there was the delicious pain on her nipple and—

“Baby,” she whimpered. God. Again. She wanted that again. Rachel blinked her heavy eyelids to look down at the blonde feasting between her legs, and the sight almost made her come a second time. Quinn looked like she was having the time of her life, and fuck, wasn’t Rachel too. To think Quinn was only using her tongue. She bit her lip hard at the thought of the blonde taking her with her fingers next time, or maybe with a strap-on, perhaps, while Rachel was on all fours, or really, however Quinn wanted. Will there be a next time? "Again?” She breathed out, eyes growing unfocused at her thoughts, unsure herself if what she said was a question—did you want me to come again?—or a plea—do that again—but it was there, hanging in the air. Trembling, she leaned up on an elbow as her other hand pushed back blonde hair so she could look into hazel eyes. Fuck. It was so erotic, watching Quinn like this, and at the same time so intimate that her heart clenched in her chest. What were they going to be after this? Surely, they had to talk afterwards, if Rachel still had consciousness when Quinn was done with her. Or vice versa, since Rachel hadn’t had her fill yet. She still had to taste Quinn herself. It wasn’t going to be fair if—Her train of thought crashed as Quinn pushed her tongue inside again, barely, and the brunette whined. “Please,” she rasped with a roll of her hips. Her next orgasm was right there. She rolled her hips again, moaning when she felt Quinn’s tongue further. “More. Fuck. That feels so good.” Rachel Berry, depending on the partner, could become a woman one could consider…vocal in bed. Maybe it came with being outspoken, or just pure shamelessness; but once she was going, she couldn’t stop, however incoherent her babbling was. “Quinn. Baby.” A whimper. “God, your tongue.” Collapsing on the bed as she placed both hands on blonde head—as if Quinn would pull away any second—she repeated her movements, bucking her hips experimentally, slowly fucking herself on Quinn’s tongue. More horny rambling echoed in the air, drowning between moans and whimpers of Quinn’s name that the walls of Rachel’s room have memorized it at this point. Quinn. Quinn. Quinn.

Rachel did her best, really, to keep that sexy, sexy eye contact, but her second orgasm was coming and crashing into her, all-too-quickly, but so, so welcome. Half of New York probably heard her screaming Quinn’s name into the afternoon air as she came once more, then fell into a less powerful but still delightful orgasm before she collapsed on the bed, panting and delirious. “Oh god. Q-Quinn. N-no more,” she whimpered, pussy sensitive and body buzzing with delicious pleasure. She wanted to curl up in Quinn’s arms and just sleep, but not yet. Later, she willed herself. She tugged on blonde hair, urging Quinn up to her. “C’mere, baby,” she murmured. God. She was sure she was dreaming now. “K-kiss me. I need—” What were words? How does one make words? “C’mere.”

007: This Moment Now

nyufabray:

Always. Now wasn’t that just music to her ears? Warmth spread throughout her body like a drug, ego stroked and heart clenching. How could she possibly let Rachel continue when she was so perfect? That lithe, hot little body, writhing and desperate. Just for her. Always for her. A growl rumbled in Quinn’s chest. There was nothing hotter than seeing the brunette fist at the bedsheets because of how good she felt. Her fingers slipped clumsily against Rachel’s clit because of how drenched she was and Quinn bit her lip hard at the nickname. It had fallen from her own lips more than once, filter properly destroyed whenever Rachel’s mouth was on her, but it always sounded phenomenal coming from Rachel Barbra Berry. Could she be her baby? She said — she said that Quinn was her always. Was that only in bed, due to the fact that they lived together? Because she was within reach?

Rachel pulled Quinn out of her insecurities with horny, incoherent babbling and the blonde whined high-pitched into the kiss. Her heart flipped again. Tom had never kissed her like this. Nobody had. None of her boyfriends — not even Ashley from summer camp. It made Quinn feel irresistible and she tugged at Rachel’s bottom lip with her teeth before leaning back. “G-Good girl.” Like a child unwrapping a long-awaited gift on Christmas, Quinn dipped her fingertips beneath Rachel’s shorts, naked chest heaving, before tugging them off and away in one fluid sweep. She — all she could do was just fucking whimper and run a shaky hand through blonde hair. “Fuck, you’re so pretty, Rachel,” she rasped brokenly, pale hands curving around tan hips as she admired the dips and curves of her roommate’s frame. With eyes dark and admiring, Quinn smoothed her hands up from those hips to curl around Rachel’s ribs, her stomach, inching up slowly to cover breasts again. Just a few moments of greed wouldn’t hurt. Memorizing the valleys of Rachel’s body with her hands wasn’t a crime, right?

But Rachel said she was so close, baby, and Quinn snapped out of her reverie to press a sweet kiss to the brunette’s mouth. Her lips brushed against Rachel’s jaw, where she breathed, “Here, lemme…” And then, with an obvious intent, Quinn began to trail hot kisses down her roommate’s body. Over her throat, her collarbone. A quick flick of her tongue over a hard nipple, then down to her abdomen. A few nips at the sensitive crook where Rachel’s thigh met her hip. With eyes still closed, absolutely drowning herself in the heaven that was Rachel, Quinn tilted her head to swipe her tongue along the inside of the brunette’s thigh — and her breath hitched with a whimper. Dear Lord, Rachel tasted out of this world. Thought of teasing her further? Gone. Goodbye. Trembling hands pulled the girl’s thighs over her shoulders and, with just one more dark glance back up at Rachel, Quinn dipped her chin to flatten her tongue and lick broadly up along the brunette’s pussy. Lashes fluttered. Christ. Jesus Christ. Nails dug into Rachel’s hips before she began to slowly bob her blonde head, steadily lapping, sucking the girl’s clit into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it. And Quinn knew immediately that she wouldn’t be able to stop, unless Rachel told her so.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

Good girl. Supposedly innocent words had never sounded so dirty for Rachel that she blushed despite herself. Then Quinn was taking off her ruined boy shorts making Rachel close her eyes, apprehensive, but the blonde was calling her pretty and hands were exploring her again. Her skin burned deliciously with Quinn’s touch, that tender kiss on her lips almost making her cry. How did she manage to make a whimpering mess out of Rachel and at the same time treat her like the most precious thing in the world? She wasn’t given time to dwell in it because the next thing she knew, Quinn was kissing down her body. Sensual kisses and nips over every spot that made Rachel tremble and moan with anticipation. Was Quinn going to—? Brown eyes were blown and lips were parted as Rachel watched the blonde in her descent. “Fuck,” she whimpered when she felt that first swipe of tongue against the inside of her thigh, so close where she needed it to be. Without warning, Quinn was placing her thighs over her shoulders, looking at her with dark, hungry eyes, like a predator giving its prey a final warning, and—

”Fuck, Quinn!” Rachel threw her head back in pleasure as she felt Quinn lap her soaked pussy. She wanted so badly to watch Quinn between her legs—was she dreaming?—but god she had never been this deep in pleasure that she couldn’t control herself. A trembling hand fisted into blonde locks while the other pulled on her own hair. The diva couldn’t remember the time when she had cursed this much—perhaps that one time she stubbed her toe while she was holding a bowl of her favorite hot soup—but strings of fuck, shit, Quinn, don’t stop left her lips, horny and unapologetic. Quinn was, in a word, talented, that tongue doing sinful things to her. Things that she had only imagined. She knew she was making a mess out of that pretty mouth with how wet she was, her juices probably running down Quinn’s chin. Marley was one lucky bitch, she thought distantly, a thought that instantly died when the blonde took her clit in her mouth and sucked.

“C-coming,” she hissed. It was embarrassing how soon she was coming undone, but can anyone blame her when it was Quinn Fabray eating her out like she was the last meal there is? She had been on the edge in the past few minutes. It was a damn feat she didn’t finish upon Quinn’s first touch. Her thighs trembled, tightened against Quinn’s head, heels digging almost painfully on pale back despite Rachel trying to control herself. She couldn’t, not with white hot pleasure consuming her. “Fuck, baby, I’m coming—Quinn!”

007: This Moment Now

nyufabray:

Quinn was a goddamn mess and Rachel hadn’t even touched her yet. With nipples aching and hips shamelessly twitching, the blonde watched with parted lips as Rachel moved to take her own top off and her jaw went slack at the sight. All of her beautiful skin, golden and soft, her breasts looking fucking delectable. Rachel’s naked body didn’t even compare to what Quinn had imagined it to be. Hazel eyes now fully blown, she had half a mind to dive in and take one of Rachel’s breasts in her mouth just because they were there now, all for her. But the brunette had other plans, plans that included pressing burning kisses down her throat, lower over her clavicle, and — Quinn fell back against the pillows once more because Rachel’s mouth was on her breast and she saw stars behind her eyes. Her fingers immediately went back to brown locks, tugging there in needy desperation as Quinn moaned very loudly into the open air. “Raaae…!”

Her roommate spent what felt like decades absolutely worshipping her breasts. Quinn almost came more times than she can count, what with that hot, hot tongue swirling around her nipples, and she let out a string of curses every time she moved back and forth. There were little bites everywhere, prominently pink against pale skin, and the blonde thought she was going to absolutely die, blunt fingernails scratching harshly along slender shoulders. When Rachel finally stopped, Quinn let out a soft whine and met her gaze. I’m gonna. She was gonna what? Her mind raced in anticipation before her head slammed back down against the pillows because — “Holy shit,” she whimpered pathetically, because Rachel’s mouth was traveling down, down, down, teasing her navel and tears sprung to her eyes again. She had never been so sexually frustrated in her entire fucking life.

And then, as if Rachel was out to kill her, there was a hungry mouth against her clothed pussy and Quinn arched up hard with a cry. “F-Fuck!” Why hadn’t they done this sooner? Why hadn’t they fucking done this sooner? Rachel Berry had been only a room away for two entire years. Tom Bradley, who? Marley Rose, who? Just as soon as her mouth had pressed against her clit, it had disappeared. Along with her destroyed panties that clung to her, the evidence of her arousal was enough to turn Quinn’s ears pink, but the lack of slippery fabric against her was a relief and, in a surge of determined energy, the blonde roughly flipped Rachel back over onto her back.

Once Quinn was sure that Rachel’s head was comfortable against the pillow and not falling off of it, she crashed her lips against the girl’s beneath her and cupped both breasts in her hands, kneading them greedily. She was just so fucking pretty and Quinn felt a little animalistic with this freedom. Not wanting to wait any longer, she nipped down along Rachel’s jaw and neck before she swallowed a stiff nipple into her mouth, sucking hungrily and tweaking the opposite one with her fingers. It was Rachel’s turn to feel this good and damn it if Quinn wasn’t going to put in every bit of her effort to turn her roommate into the same amount of mess that she was. She switched breasts, groaning at how alive sucking Rachel there made her feel and clumsily trailed her hand down between toned thighs. Minutes before, Rachel had said I’m going to say yes if you asked. And the brunette had already had her turn, so Quinn didn’t mess around. Swiftly, she dipped her hand beneath soaked boy shorts and ran her fingers up along the abundant amount of wetness she found. Oh, god.

The feel of soft, swollen flesh made Quinn shudder and pause her ministrations on Rachel’s chest, just for a moment, before she experimentally began to rub slow circles on her clit with her fingertips. Breathless, Quinn kissed back up Rachel’s neck and panted quietly against her jaw. “You’re absolutely soaked,” she murmured, heart pounding loud in her ears. Her free hand continued to pinch and toy with Rachel’s nipple as she spoke. “Does it feel good, Rach?” Her voice was nothing but a rasp, dark thoughts clouding her mind and spilling out without pause, “When—When I touch your pussy like this?” An exaggerated flick of her fingertips. She pulled back a bit to look down at her with hungry but loving hazel eyes. I love you. “Tell me.”

Before Rachel could do anything else, Quinn was flipping them again, and the sight she was welcomed with almost had her undone. She would probably keep coming back to this memory of Quinn freaking Fabray looking at her like that—all hungry gaze and messy blonde hair. Except, Quinn was kissing her again, and warm hands were on her breasts and—”Quinn,” she whined, words and coherent thought dissolving into nothingness as the blonde dove in. Rachel could only moan in pleasure, hands tangling in golden tresses. “B-but—but I’m not d-done ye—fuck!” She had never felt this good, ever, and for so long, having Quinn do it to her was only an object of her fantasies. Fulfilling Quinn’s earlier request was thrown out of the window when Rachel felt an exploring hand between her legs.

“Oh god,” she whimpered. Quinn knew. Quinn knew how fucking soaked she was, how much she needed her touch. Her cheeks burned with shame but she couldn’t really hide now, could she? Not with the blonde kissing her neck again, assaulting a sensitive nipple, rubbing Rachel’s needly clit and saying words so filthy her toes curled with barely-there satisfaction. “Just for you, Quinn.” A whimper. “Always.” Her heart pounded in her chest, screaming at her to shut up before she ended up saying something neither of them were probably ready for. What she needed to say was more—more what? More teasing words, more fingers?—more, but couldn’t deny Quinn answers. Not when one could get Rachel exactly what she wanted. Was it selfish to spread her legs wider, buck her hips against those moving fingers? It felt so good, and she was so close another dirty word from Quinn might have her tumbling over the edge. She forced herself to meet hazel eyes, her own blown with want and need and hunger. Her hips twitched towards pale fingers. “Fuck! Feels so fucking good, baby,” she whimpered, the term of endearment falling carelessly as she lost all logic. She was dripping, her boy shorts were ruined, and Quinn was right there where she needed her, but also not quite. If she just moved lower... Trembling hands ran through her dark hair before fisting the sheets out of frustration. She needed more. She needed Quinn.

“Please,” she managed to choke out. She wasn’t behind begging, not when Quinn seemed to make it her mission to tease, and was this payment for not fulfilling the blonde’s request in a snap? “Fuck me.” Her tongue peeked out to lick dry lips. A whine. “Insid—take it o-off, I don’t—“ She yanked Quinn by her hair and kissed her hungrily. She was taken over by lust now, frustration building up too fast too soon she was close to crying, especially if Quinn kept teasing her clit like that. God, Quinn. “I’m so close, baby, just—“

007: This Moment Now

nyufabray:

In a flurry of movement, Quinn was on her back with an outrageously sexy Rachel Berry straddling her hips and fuck, was she dreaming? This was definitely a page taken right out of the book of her wet dreams. Chocolate hair mussed and draping, kiss-bitten lips pulled into knowing smirk. Pink tongue poking out. Brown eyes blown and hungry, trailing all over her body like Rachel wanted to eat her. All Quinn could do was bat blonde lashes and hum into the brunette’s kiss, breath hitching with soft lips trailed down her neck. Her body trembled with pleasure at the attention. Rachel’s mouth was so hot against her already flushed skin and Quinn whimpered loudly, tangling pale fingers into dark hair to keep her close. Would her kisses feel like this everywhere? There was a moment of hesitation on her roommates part and Quinn looked down in timid curiosity only to see that — holy shit, Marley. Freaking Marley and that bruise. She had forgotten all about it. Had it been on display this whole time, for Rachel to see? Her cheeks burned with shame but then Rachel’s hands were cupping both of her breasts beneath her top like they were born to be there and all thoughts of Marley flew out the window.

“Oh, fuck!” Quinn let out a soft cry, arching her chest into her roommate’s hands and whining when her sensitive nipples were toyed with. Her hips bucked up into nothing and she wondered if she could just come without being touched. And then Rachel was calling murmuring sweetly, calling her beautiful and perfect and Quinn’s eyes stung abruptly with tears. Those were words that had been tossed at Quinn ever since high school, but never alone in bed. Never on a lazy Sunday afternoon, half naked, underneath the girl she loved. The thought slammed into her chest like a train. She loved Rachel. Love-loved. Everything flashed between her eyes, hyper-speed and white hot. Demanding Rachel cuddle with her on their couch. Staring a bit too long at Rachel’s legs. All of the secret, innocent photos taken of Rachel’s smile. Feeling the most safe in Rachel’s arms. Jillian. Cassie. Sweaty Sailors. Their conversation outside of the theater. Jesus Christ, she was in love with Rachel.

Consumed with emotion and the desperate need to have Rachel touch her, Quinn choked on a happily confused sob that she hid as a groan. A groan that turned into a throaty moan because Rachel was virtually assaulting her neck with those pretty white teeth. “Baby!” Her hands fisted the back of Rachel’s shirt, legs wrapping warmly around the brunette’s slender waist. Boy, she sure was focused on one spot. Not that Quinn was complaining, the hot stinging felt fantastic, but it was also very tender to the touch, and — oh god, it was the hickey. Rachel was trying to cover it up with a bruise of her own. Writing her own name over Marley’s. A tear escaped and Quinn hastily wiped it away, just as soft fingertips pressed against her clit again. She whined softly in frustration, lashes fluttering.

When Quinn dared to open her eyes again, Rachel was hovering above her again, looking at her so sweetly, speech clumsy and nervous and Quinn couldn’t lean up to kiss her fast enough. It was a hard, reassuring kiss, her hand cupping the back of her roommate’s neck and the blonde let out a jagged breath when she pulled back. Those deft fingers were still fucking tweaking at her nipple. “O-Of course, sweetheart,” She nudged her nose against against Rachel’s affectionately, suddenly feeling much better about this moment. Like it wasn’t going to leave her with an aftertaste of regret. It was difficult to move fluidly with her body shaking, but Quinn sat up an inch and slowly pulled off her tank top, light-headed with nerves when she was completely exposed. Tom had never cared for Quinn being naked when they slept together and it had left her with a complex. Was she only a pretty face? Did she need work done on the rest of her body? Vulnerable now, Quinn tugged gently on Rachel’s top, filled with the desire to see more. “You too?” She ran her teeth over her bottom lip. “I — you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, Rach,” she rushed out, hushed with sincerity. Her shoulder ached with Rachel’s bite and it made her feel alive. It also made her pussy throb and she had to clench her thighs. “I really wanna see you.” An audible swallow. Her voice dropped and she shuddered. “And I’ll need s-some help with my panties.”

There wasn’t a moment of hesitation in Quinn’s response to Rachel’s plea. It assured the brunette that somehow, this won’t end in tears. Surely, if Quinn didn’t want this to happen, Rachel would have been kicked off to the floor right now, with the blonde storming out of her room to pack up her stuff and leave for good, right? Rachel licked her lips in anticipation as Quinn moved to take off her top, and—and—How was she supposed to think when so much pale skin was right there within her reach? Quinn was flawless, milky skin smooth and unblemished (except for the glaring red hickey Rachel had left over Marley’s), the hard nipples she was teasing earlier now a feast for her eyes, pink nubs begging to be taken between her lips. “You’re so beautiful,” she breathed once more, brown eyes flitting everywhere to take in the sight, committing to memory everything she could. Was it possible to fall further for a person you were already madly in love with? Rachel certainly thought so. There was the urge to lean in once more, kiss Quinn all over, mark her, but the blonde was tugging hesitantly on Rachel’s own top. The brunette quirked her lips at that. Of course. It was only fair, after all, but she did chuckle softly at Quinn’s words. “Have you seen yourself in the mirror, b—blondie?” She bit her lip and quickly removed her tank top to mask her almost slip-up. Was it okay to call Quinn baby again? She did use the same nickname for Rachel earlier.

Those thoughts seemed trivial when her roommate’s voice went lower that Rachel had to strain her ears to hear, shivering when the meaning of Quinn’s words sank on her. Her own nipples were hard and sensitive in the all-too-warm air in her room. Throwing her top to the side, Rachel nodded. She captured Quinn’s lips again in a soft, lingering kiss—resisted the urge to whisper I love you in the sudden tenderness of the moment. It wasn’t time to open up her heart when Quinn was telling her to help out with the stupid fabric that remained on her, especially with her request to please fuck me hanging in the air. Wordlessly, she trailed kisses down Quinn’s jaw and neck once more. Her travel continued lower, lower between the valley of the blonde’s breasts. She kissed Quinn’s pale skin, memorizing the curves as she made her way to her left nipple, tongue swirling around the bud before taking it between her lips and sucking. She moaned at the sound Quinn made, took her time eliciting it again from her roommate before she did the same to the other as her hands ran from Quinn’s sides down to the blue panties she wore.

She hadn’t known how much time she took worshipping Quinn like that, but when she was done, not without fading red marks all over the other girl’s breasts, Rachel looked up through hooded lashes to Quinn. “I’m gonna—” She swallowed thickly and instead of continuing, proceeded to kiss down Quinn’s flat belly, tongue dipping on her navel until the fabric brushed against her chin. She could practically smell Quinn. “Fuck,” she hissed under her breath, and before she could stop herself, before she could think about it, Rachel was kissing Quinn there, open-mouthed and needy that her tongue flooded with her taste. A growl rumbled deep in her throat. Rachel knew then that she was a goner. Addicted to Quinn, even more so than she already was. With much hesitation, Rachel pulled away, licking her lips hungrily before dipping her fingers on the band of Quinn’s panties and slowly—very slowly—pulled the blonde’s panties off. She whined as the fabric stuck to Quinn for a moment but soon the offending garment was making its way down, down Quinn’s leg, and the goddess underneath here was exposed fully, all for Rachel to see. There was the urge to cry once more, the need to worship Quinn and tell her thank you, I love you so much, but all that left her lips were “You’re so beautiful, Quinn” before she was kissing her again.

007: This Moment Now

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Quinn had never heard Rachel curse so freely before, dark words falling from pink lips without any hesitation, and she felt as though she was going to faint. Only her roommate could double as stupidly adorable one day and absolutely irresistible the next. With Rachel’s head thrown back, so much golden skin was put on display and Quinn all but feasted on her neck, covering every inch with hot kisses and little nips. She managed to remember the reaction that kissing the little, sensitive spot beneath her ear brought out of Rachel back at Sweaty Sailors and preened at the whine she was rewarded with. Everything about Rachel was fucking delicious. Her smile, her voice. The way her body writhed. Her fucking mouth. Quinn wondered if she ever would have taken advantage of Rachel in high school, with all of the power and seduction she had possessed. Maybe drag her into the locker room. Or the broom closet. She could just imagine it, them harboring a dirty little secret. Heated kisses beneath bleachers.

The blonde had been certain that Rachel would have pulled her hand away once given the chance to, maybe even taken aback by her nerve. They were kissing, and rocking, and biting but forcing Rachel to touch her was almost sort of — boyish. And selfish. Not that Quinn didn’t want to make the brunette scream until she lost her voice, but the action was a definite change of pace. However, instead of the expected loss of contact, Rachel was gasping sharply and — “Nnngh, fuck!” Slowly rubbing her pussy through the fabric of her panties. You’re so wet. With a throaty whimper, Quinn nodded quickly, desperately and delayed. Yes, for her. All for her. Pale fingers twisted in Rachel’s sheets, hips jerking clumsily. She had never felt so needy in her life. This was happening. It was all blowing her mind and Quinn found herself sliding her hand hotly beneath Rachel’s top. Up, up, up until she was fully and finally cupping one of the brunette’s breasts. Quinn shuddered at the reality of it all and couldn’t refrain from slowly circling Rachel’s nipple with the tip of her thumb, testing her. Teasing her. She needed to be touching the brunette somehow, too. To let her know that it wasn’t all about herself.

Her hips stuttered at Rachel’s lustful question, something Quinn had imagined over and over again in the recent days, and she openly trembled. “Please, yes, baby, please,” Quinn whined in a rush, gushing all over again at Rachel’s interest. Filled to the brim with anticipation, the blonde bit down hard on the side of Rachel’s neck and sucked hungrily, hand caressing her breast with purpose. There was going to an impressive bruise left on Rachel, if Quinn had anything to say about it. Maybe a silent fuck off in Cassie’s direction. Just the thought of the lanky, sultry blonde made Quinn even more so inspired to leave marks. But the only thing on Quinn’s mind right now was Rachel’s fingers gently moving against her, fingers that were about to be touching her wet pussy directly and the blonde could all but cry. “Please fuck me.”

The jerky nod that Quinn answered her with made Rachel gush in her already ruined underwear. Quinn was wet for her. Her, not Tom, not Marley. The blonde had admitted that she was thinking of Rachel—it did wonders for her ego, her fingers curiously exploring, eagerly rubbing Quinn through her panties to elicit those lovely whimpers from her roommate. Quinn had the same idea, it seemed, a happy moan escaping Rachel as her roommate cupped her breast. Her nipples were hard and sensitive, and the teasing Quinn was giving her did nothing to quell her need to be touched. Still, despite her said burning need, she managed to swallow back her own frustration as Quinn practically begged Rachel to fuck her. God. The words sounded so sweet and so dirty at the same time that Rachel could only whimper Quinn’s name as the blonde made it her mission to mark her skin—brandish Rachel as hers, perhaps, something the brunette would readily be, if Quinn just asked.

But right now, the only thing in Rachel’s mind was her fulfilment of Quinn’s desperate plea. Please fuck me, Quinn had whimpered, even called her baby, and who was she to deny the girl that? She had half the mind to just push aside the blue panties Quinn wore. Finding strength she didn’t know she possessed, what with her trembling frame, the brunette flipped them so she could pin Quinn on the bed, arms on either side of the pillow she managed to rest her head on. The blankets that covered them pooled by their feet and the air around them seemed too warm. Rachel smirked down at the surprised blonde and licked her lips predatorily. She had only ever fantasized about having Quinn like this and what a glorious sight it was—blonde hair splayed across Rachel's pillow, hazel eyes dark with want, lips swollen from the brunette's hungry kisses. Rachel leaned down to claim her lips again before she was trailing down the blonde's neck. Curious. Wanting. She was never one to take control, but there was a first time for everything—she vaguely remembered letting Quinn pin her against the bathroom door at Sweaty Sailors. Maybe an almost naked Quinn underneath her brought out this side of her. Tongue licked up pale skin, down to Quinn's shoulder, then her collarbone where that stupid mark from Marley sat. Without hesitation, Rachel kissed it again, curious hands wandering everywhere—all over pale skin, on her hip, under Quinn’s top. Small breasts that fit her hands perfectly. She circled Quinn’s nipples with her thumb, teasingly, much like the blonde did earlier.

“Why are you so perfect?” She mumbled under her breath disbelief and frustration evident in her voice. Rachel knew for a fact that it wasn’t because she saw Quinn with rose-colored glasses. It was just because, well, Quinn was perfect. She could hear the blonde’s ragged breathing over her pounding heart. She knew that she had to fulfil Quinn’s request sooner or later but she couldn’t help wanting to take her time—if this was the first and the last. “God. You’re so beautiful,” Rachel whispered reverently against pale skin, teasingly licking that stupid purple spot before nipping it. Again and again, sucked on it hard, making it more prominent, this time with her own lips and teeth. Marking Quinn as Rachel’s, if only for some time. Hands traced the milky skin as Quinn accommodated her between her legs, fingers finally trailing once more towards the blonde’s soaked core. She was so wet. Deft fingers pressed against Quinn’s clit over the fabric of her panties, reveling in the sounds that left the blonde.

“Can I—Can I see you?” Rachel asked softly against Quinn’s ear, in case it broke the reverie they were in. “All of you.” She finally pulled back to meet Quinn’s gaze. Rachel almost lost control and headed between the blonde’s legs. Maybe she could have a taste later, if she played her cards right. Her fingers kept their movements though, on that hard bud she was slowly getting acquainted with, just to appease the blonde. “P-please. I promise I’ll—” I’ll still fuck you? That didn’t sound so romantic right now. Was she aiming for romantic? She bit her lip, voice lowering out of embarrassment about her request. She sounded so pathetic. Where does one get game? God, she wanted to cry. “I just—I just w-want to see you.”

007: This Moment Now

nyufabray:

More. Quinn simultaneously ground her hips down harder as Rachel spread her legs and holy shit, it was the hottest thing she had ever seen. She was virtually fucking the brunette underneath her and her arms started to tremble. Panting softly, Quinn snuck in a quick, heated kiss because Rachel’s lips felt out of this world against her own, and thirty seconds had been too long. She felt light-headed and began to burn up. Rachel felt so good against her, just as wet and yearning, able to get worked up just as quickly as Quinn had. Her mind briefly went back to earlier on in the week, with Rachel moaning in her bedroom, calling out Quinn’s name as she came. Maybe this time could be the same. But instead of through the door like a pervert, it would be directly into her ear. And instead of whatever Rachel had been using, it would be Quinn’s hand. Or her mouth. God, anything.

When Rachel pulled her back down into a kiss that shook Quinn to the core, she let out her loudest moan yet and silently begged for the brunette to keep holding onto her like that. Like she belonged to Rachel. The thought made Quinn roll her hips with vigor and her panties were absolutely destroyed. They needed to come off. Everything needed to come off. She needed more of Rachel’s skin, she needed to explore her body, she needed — “Nngh!” Rachel yanking at her hair was officially her favorite thing. And then there was her roommates request, no — her heated demand, and Quinn’s grip faltered, causing her to shift against the hot little body beneath her. She ended up catching herself from falling off of the mattress completely by moving her leg over and — “Ohh, Ra-achel…” The brunette’s toned thigh was right between her legs and she flushed all over at how that almost pushed her over the edge. The clothed friction just wasn’t enough. With one hand on Rachel’s waist and the other against her jaw, Quinn lowered her head to press a shaky kiss to her roommate’s neck.

“Do you —“ She choked on her own words, heart racing, chest heaving. Her voice was the lowest it had ever been, dark with lust. “Do you have a-any idea what you do to me?” Quinn breathed, unable to stop herself from peppering hot kisses against the expanse of Rachel’s throat. Her eyes burned with frustrated tears, paranoid that this might all end before it even started, and in a desperate effort to make sure that it didn’t, Quinn gently encircled Rachel’s wrist with her hand. “What only you, do to me.” It was impulsive and risky, but the blonde threw caution to the wind before guiding Rachel’s hand between her own legs to press against the very damp fabric of her panties. She let out a strangled whimper at the contact, words tumbling out. “Do you think I didn’t imagine you yesterday — that I don’t always imagine you?” She licked her lips, nose brushing almost bashfully against Rachel’s neck. “You touching me?” Startled at her own actions, Quinn let go of Rachel’s wrist and moved to fist the sheets instead. A sharp bite to the crook of the brunette’s shoulder, cheeks flaming as she rasped, “Me touching you.”

Quinn’s whimper as Rachel tugged on her hair was something the brunette filed in the deepest recesses of her mind, like some dark fantasy she’d visit some time. A thrill rushed through her, especially when Quinn moaned her name. Who was Marley again? She was about to demand the other girl to say it, again, and again and again and again, but then Quinn was shifting and there was a thigh right against her core and—

“Fuck,” Rachel whimpered, head throwing back in ecstasy. This was so much better than any of her masturbation sessions before, better than any toy—and to think they were still fully clothed. In a sense. The brunette was embarrassingly close to the edge and it didn’t help that Quinn kept kissing down her neck, saying words that Rachel could only dream of her saying. When Quinn took her by the wrist, Rachel was afraid that for a moment, the blonde would push her away. She was so wrong though, because she was guiding her hand towards—oh god, between her legs. Rachel’s fingers brushed against soaked fabric and she whimpered low in her throat. What was air? How to breathe? She was touching Quinn Fabray, a piece of clothing between her trembling fingers and her.

Do you think I didn’t imagine you yesterday — that I don’t always imagine you?

Quinn was thinking of her? For some reason, that made her feel better—she’ll think about Marley later—and the jealousy on her chest morphed into possessiveness. “Quinn—” A gasp as the blonde bit on her neck, making Rachel whine once more and god, if she didn’t stop with her kisses and nips on that sensitive spot under Rachel’s ear, she’ll come right then and there. She couldn’t—not yet—they haven’t even begun. “Fuck, Quinn,” Rachel gasped, fingers deftly between Quinn’s legs, a barely there touch against the girl’s clothed sex. “You’re so wet. For me?” She swallowed audibly, her heart thundering in her chest. Quinn kept saying all the things she’d always wanted to hear, and Rachel couldn’t help but fall further for the blonde. Couldn’t help the animalistic lust overcoming all her rational thoughts. A beat passed, and then she was cupping Quinn’s pussy through her ruined panties, fingers tentatively, gently rubbing her against the fabric. If Quinn touched her right now, she’d find that she was in the same state, if not worse. There was probably an embarrassingly dark patch of wetness on her gray boy shorts. She fought to focus on the panting girl above her and met her lustful gaze. Her breath stalled in her chest. She wanted to touch Quinn. Wanted to pull aside those offending panties, rip them off so she could— Ask now. Ask now. “Can—Can I touch you? Please.”

007: This Moment Now

nyufabray:

When Rachel sighed her name, Quinn shuddered and exhaled shakily, panicked train of thought screeching to a halt. That certainly wasn’t angry, or affronted, or even unimpressed. The brunette seemed dazed, actually. Maybe even worked up. The soft reaction was reassuring and Quinn’s fingers tightened in silky brown locks when Rachel pulled her closer. Oh, Christ, this was going to happen, and Quinn absolutely soaked through her panties in anticipation. It was sort of ridiculous, how the inside of her thighs were already slick. She never would have thought that one kiss with Rachel and some fleeting touches could ever get her so worked up. Even with Tom and his arrogant abstinence, Quinn had never been so physically desperate to be touched. But Rachel Berry, whimpering please and tightly gripping her hip, certainly wasn’t Tom Bradley. On the other hand, Rachel wasn’t just some pretty girl with soft lips, either. The amount of sexual frustration pulsing through Quinn was problematic, because — because should she give into physical desire before they discussed their relationship? What if this, whatever this ended up being in Rachel’s bed, potentially hurt one of them in the end?

Quinn was on the fence about it all, no matter how much her body screamed yes, but Rachel seemed to be on the exact same level as her because fuck, that kiss. Groaning softly, Quinn tugged at brown hair and kissed her back, hard. The only thing she knew for certain was that they both wanted this. Motivations and intentions were unclear, but there wasn’t alcohol making decisions anymore. And, just — she could die tomorrow, so why not give into something so good? With a regained energy, Quinn flipped them over so Rachel was on her back and kissed her with a fury, slotting herself comfortably between the brunette’s toned legs. Now that they were pressed together in that way, Quinn could definitely feel… Rachel, and she mewled into the girl’s warm mouth. She tasted like toothpaste. If Quinn wasn’t so outrageously turned on, she would have grinned, because how cute was she? Her hips jerked forward with need and she trembled, one hand cupping the side of Rachel’s face in a way that was both tender and demanding.

As much as she wanted to rip off Rachel’s top and explore with her mouth, Quinn was nervous. Kissing and groping was one thing, but once clothes came off — it was the real deal. She wanted her so much she could cry, but if that meant seeing Rachel look so dejected, like she had the night before, Quinn could most definitely suck it up and wait. It didn’t stop her from skimming her tongue hotly over Rachel’s lower lip, though. Or her hips from bucking hard, maybe just to see how the brunette would react beneath her. God, Rachel was underneath her, in bed. With no Kurt to dump water over their heads. Just the thought alone could make her come.

As soon as Rachel's lips were on Quinn's, the fingers in her hair tightened, the blonde pressing against hers. A sound that could only be described as desperate left Rachel. This was happening. Her cheeks flared hotly. They have both explicitly consented to this burning kiss. Rachel trembled with anticipation and tried to ignore the questions that clawed the back of her mind. What does this mean? Were they just acting like hormonal teens, seeking to sate their needs? The way they both kissed each other was needy, but she didn't need the doubts right now. Besides, how was she supposed to think properly, let alone think at all, when Quinn was kissing her with so much purpose her brain cells sizzled? Any remaining logical thought in her head vanished when Quinn pinned her on her back and moved herself between her legs. Another moan escaped her lips, muffled by Quinn's own as she welcomed the girl's tongue in her mouth. Fuck. Quinn's kisses made her dizzy.

The new position made her feel closer to the blonde and she could definitely feel the warmth that radiated through the fabric of whatever garment she was wearing, but that also meant that Quinn could feel her just as much. The thought made her shudder. The only thing that separated them from each other were flimsy pieces of clothing that were, if that damp warmth was any indication, as good as gone. And god, did Rachel want them gone. Along with their stupid tops as well. But clothes coming off was perhaps too fast, five minutes into waking, and they probably need to take it slow—for one, they were yet to talk about the night at Sweaty Sailors and the cab. Rachel almost whined. Do they have to talk about it now?

She got her answer quickly when Quinn rolled her hips hard, and that whine finally spilled, wanton and desperate. "More" was out of her lips before she could stop herself as she pulled away from Quinn, hands left unmoving a few seconds before now clutching the blonde's top, wanting to just fucking rip it off. She spread her thighs wider shamelessly, accommodating Quinn closer, much closer, and bucked her hips into her roommate's. A hiss left her lips at the delicious friction provided. She was so close already, how in the world? Daring to open her eyes to look at Quinn, she whispered a soft fuck, Quinn under her breath when she saw the blonde's short hair framing her flushed face. Her eyes were closed, lips parted. Dear Lord Jesus and Barbra, she was underneath Quinn Fabray. The object of her wet dreams, the love of her life. Her hand raised to cup Quinn's face, gentle despite the desperate, sloppy bucking of their hips, and that's when she saw it—a small purple spot on Quinn's left shoulder, screaming against the pale skin. From last night, perhaps, when Quinn got...held up. By Marley.

Rachel gave a small pause at that, but before Quinn could notice her hesitation, the brunette was kissing her again. The imagined memory of Quinn going down on Marley on that stupid bathroom burned behind her eyes, and a moan that was partly hurt left her lips. She didn't want to think about it, but it was there, lingering in her head. The hand on Quinn's face moved to cup the back of the girl's neck, possessive. No. Quinn was—Quinn was with her right now. Hers? Perhaps not, but she was in Rachel's bed, pinning the poor brunette under her. Not Marley Rose, but Rachel Berry. Fingers tugged into blonde hair and the diva pulled back enough to speak, abused lips brushing against Quinn's. "Say my name," she breathed. It was soft, like a plea, but carried enough desperation that it sounded like some dirty demand. She needed the validation. This was happening, unless Quinn left her there to die of frustration, but for now she just wanted to drown Marley's echoing moan of Quinn's name in her head—with the blonde's own mention of Rachel's name.

007: This Moment Now

nyufabray:

God, why was it possible — how was it fair for Rachel to make her brain sizzle to a stop with that smile while her thigh simultaneously made her choke on air? Quinn figured she must look a mess, all tangled blonde hair and flushed skin. With Rachel now mostly awake and adorable, those big brown eyes warm and loving, she couldn’t escape to a cold shower like she had hoped. Not that she necessarily wanted to leave, not with petite hands sliding over her rib cage and landing on her hip. Her hip that was so close to — well. She bit down on her lip and closed her eyes in order to concentrate on not making a fool of herself. What was she, a freshman boy in high school? Was the orgasm Marley gave her less than twenty-four hours ago just not enough? It really figured, that Quinn had to have some sort of wet dream when Rachel was next to her. Then again, she didn’t normally sleep against another warm body, especially one whose hands had travelled under her tank top. Just when Quinn had figured that she looked cool and calm, Rachel shifted a second time, a third time and she couldn’t hold back the whimper. Like clockwork, brown eyes widened a bit and Quinn felt dizzy with embarrassment. Oh, god. Rachel could feel how wet she was. Why did she have to take her damn pants off before climbing into bed?

Carefully, very carefully, Quinn shifted back an inch to detangle their legs and her lashes fluttered. Her body immediately craved contact once it was lost and she almost whined. When she mustered up the confidence to look back up at the brunette, Quinn’s fingers twitched against soft sheets. Fuck, Rachel’s eyes were blown. Her own cover was blown. Another unspoken acknowledgement between Rachel and herself, except this time they were alone. And sober. And in a bed. Praying that the hand on her hip would stay put, Quinn licked her lips and gave her a shy smile. “Hey there.” Her gaze was drawn towards Rachel’s mouth and it was difficult not to look away. “Um, I…” Her own eyes darkened, heart stuttering. They hadn’t been this close since the midnight cab. “I just woke…” Time slowed. And then—then Quinn let out a soft fuck before reaching up, grabbing Rachel by the back of her neck, and kissing her fiercely beneath the sheets. Her toes curled and her hips trembled because Rachel’s lips were just as soft as they had been the week before. Just as perfect, just as addicting, and Quinn poured every bit of her pent-up, unadulterated desire into her kiss before pulling back abruptly with a gasp.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” she breathed quickly, pale fingers twitching against brown hair. “That was rude, I should have asked—“ Panic flared in her chest. Had she really managed to screw up two minutes into waking? Why did every bit of her want to fuck Rachel into a stupor and maybe express how much she loved her when she came? This was way too much for a Sunday morning. Afternoon? What time was it, anyway? Their faces were still so near and Quinn didn’t realize that she harbored so much self control. Any other girl, any other man, Quinn wouldn’t have apologized. But this was Rachel Berry. Her ray of light through all of the darkness. She braced herself for outraged rejection, even as her body thrummed with want. New panties would definitely need to added to her shopping list.

Rachel’s lips pulled into a small frown when Quinn pulled away. Had the blonde noticed that she was practically molesting her? An apology was already on the tip of her tongue when she was met with Quinn’s piercing gaze, glossy with sleep—or was it something else? Rachel confirmed that it was the latter when that gaze fell on her lips, parted as she tried to control her breathing. The look Quinn was giving her was so intense she squirmed under the sheets. She couldn’t understand the string of words falling from Quinn’s lips though, but she found that she didn’t need to, because the next thing she knew, Quinn was kissing her.

Oh, dear Barbra. Quinn was kissing her. That certainly jolted Rachel awake. The kiss caught her in a surprise, brown eyes wide open, before she melted into Quinn’s warm lips on hers with a soft moan. Her core throbbed with need, one that echoed throughout her body. God. Quinn was kissing her. Was she dreaming? They were in Rachel’s bed, after all; maybe this was the manifestation of the want she’d kept inside for so long. But Quinn’s lips on hers were firm, insistent, and her fingers twitched on the blonde’s hip before she gripped on the fabric of the blonde’s top. She was sure they weren’t drunk too. Were they still? How was she supposed to stay satisfied with being just friends when the blonde was kissing her like this? Was this a benefit of some sort? Was Quinn still frustrated? Was Marley—

Her train of thought crashed when the warm lips on hers were gone, just as quickly as they came. Quinn was apologizing, but Rachel could only open her eyes, dazed. What was she saying? Rachel couldn’t really think—her head was still buzzing, her lips tingling with sparks. The throbbing between her legs was getting more intense. Her boyshorts were probably ruined by now, even if they haven’t even done anything yet. Was this how guys get morning wood? Was it still morning? “Quinn,” she breathed out, effectively getting the blonde’s attention. Quinn’s hand was still in her hair, which probably meant she wasn’t in full panic mode yet. The fact that she was still there, with little distance from Rachel, meant good news for the brunette. Wasn’t it? Was she taking advantage of Quinn right now? They were alone. Sober. And god, damn her heart, but she wanted this. She licked her lips again. What words to say? She managed to pull some from her head as she pulled Quinn closer by her hips, her palm feeling smooth fabric and—skin. Her brain short-circuited. Quinn was just wearing…panties? Then that meant.. “I’m g-going to say yes if you ask,” she blurted out. Her hand twitched on the blonde’s hip, wanting to explore. A part of her wanted to take the chance, but a greater part of her wanted Quinn to continue—take control, pull her in again for another kiss. Another something—something more. Wanted Quinn to explore her, have her make true of what she wanted back in Sweaty Sailors. One that Rachel denied. Does Quinn even remember? She leaned in and swallowed thickly. “Please.” A bat of long lashes. Please what? Touch me? Fuck me? Love me? A soft, needy whimper. “Just—” A little growl of frustration escaped her, nails unconsciously digging against pale skin, before she finally took what she wanted, pressing her lithe body against Quinn’s as she captured the blonde’s lips in a hungry kiss.