![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thegirl20TITLE: I want to text you up
FANDOM: Glee
PAIRING: Rachel/Quinn
SUMMARY: Quinn and Rachel discuss 'sexting'. Via text.
RATING: R
WORD COUNT: ~500
DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em. They're Ryan Murphy's.
SPOILERS: Possibly 'Hairography'. But nothing overt.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This just popped into my head earlier and wouldn't leave. (I think it's because in another fic I'm writing I'm having to write sad!Rachel and that just breaks my heart.)
- Hey, what are you doing?
- I’m about to film my myspace video for the night. Why?
- So you’re alone?
- Yes.
- Santana was telling me about sexting today.
- Sexy texting. What about it?
- Wait. How do you know what it is? I didn’t.
- Quinn, I’m not Laura Ingalls Wilder.
- You just dress like her.
- That was a bit predictable for you.
- It’s the shock of you knowing about sexting.
- Noah and I tried it. I thought it was fun.
- You sexted with PUCK?!!?!
- Yes. But he objected to me correcting his spelling and grammar. So we stopped.
- I’m not sure how I feel about that.
- Don’t be jealous.
- I’m not jealous.
- I think you’re a little bit jealous.
- Well I’m not.
- Would you be less jealous if I sexted with you?
- I don’t know.
- Would you like to try?
- Whatever.
- OK, tell me what you’re wearing.
- Rachel, I’m pregnant, I’m wearing sweats and granny panties.
- OK. I’m not wearing anything.
-
- Quinn? You’re supposed to text something back.
- Are you really naked?
- Yes.
- God.
- What do you want me to do to myself?
- I can’t text that.
- Why not?
- Because.
- What’s the point in sexting if you’re not going to do it properly?
- Fine. I want you to touch yourself.
- Where?
- You know where.
- Quinn, I feel like I’m doing all the work here. Write something sexy!
- This feels weird.
- My hand is on my breast, fingers teasing my nipple, it’s so hard.
- RACHEL! I can’t believe you wrote that. Erase it from your sent items.
- I knew this wasn’t going to work. It’s like that time we tried to have phone sex.
- That wasn’t my fault.
- It was your fault. You laughed all the way through.
- I can’t help it if sex words aren’t sexy when you say them out loud.
- Or text them, apparently.
- It’s the celibacy club. It’s turned me into a prude.
- I don’t think I’d call what we did last night ‘prudish’.
- It’s different in person.
- Fine. No sexting for us. (I’m pouting now.)
- I’ll make it up to you.
- How?
- I could come over...
- Why would you be coming over?
- So that we could...wait, are you just trying to get me sexting again?
- Trying and failing. Fine, come over. Quickly. Or I might just drop Noah a text.
- Don’t you dare. I’ll be there in ten minutes.
- I’ll be waiting. Naked. Ready. Willing.
- Rachel, you’re killing me.
- Wet.
- I hate you. I’m in the car. Stop texting or I’ll crash.
- You don’t need to read them.
- Especially if you stop sending them.
- Fine. Bye. I love you. Prude.
- I love you too. Harlot.
FANDOM: Glee
PAIRING: Rachel/Quinn
SUMMARY: Quinn and Rachel discuss 'sexting'. Via text.
RATING: R
WORD COUNT: ~500
DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em. They're Ryan Murphy's.
SPOILERS: Possibly 'Hairography'. But nothing overt.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This just popped into my head earlier and wouldn't leave. (I think it's because in another fic I'm writing I'm having to write sad!Rachel and that just breaks my heart.)
- Hey, what are you doing?
- I’m about to film my myspace video for the night. Why?
- So you’re alone?
- Yes.
- Santana was telling me about sexting today.
- Sexy texting. What about it?
- Wait. How do you know what it is? I didn’t.
- Quinn, I’m not Laura Ingalls Wilder.
- You just dress like her.
- That was a bit predictable for you.
- It’s the shock of you knowing about sexting.
- Noah and I tried it. I thought it was fun.
- You sexted with PUCK?!!?!
- Yes. But he objected to me correcting his spelling and grammar. So we stopped.
- I’m not sure how I feel about that.
- Don’t be jealous.
- I’m not jealous.
- I think you’re a little bit jealous.
- Well I’m not.
- Would you be less jealous if I sexted with you?
- I don’t know.
- Would you like to try?
- Whatever.
- OK, tell me what you’re wearing.
- Rachel, I’m pregnant, I’m wearing sweats and granny panties.
- OK. I’m not wearing anything.
-
- Quinn? You’re supposed to text something back.
- Are you really naked?
- Yes.
- God.
- What do you want me to do to myself?
- I can’t text that.
- Why not?
- Because.
- What’s the point in sexting if you’re not going to do it properly?
- Fine. I want you to touch yourself.
- Where?
- You know where.
- Quinn, I feel like I’m doing all the work here. Write something sexy!
- This feels weird.
- My hand is on my breast, fingers teasing my nipple, it’s so hard.
- RACHEL! I can’t believe you wrote that. Erase it from your sent items.
- I knew this wasn’t going to work. It’s like that time we tried to have phone sex.
- That wasn’t my fault.
- It was your fault. You laughed all the way through.
- I can’t help it if sex words aren’t sexy when you say them out loud.
- Or text them, apparently.
- It’s the celibacy club. It’s turned me into a prude.
- I don’t think I’d call what we did last night ‘prudish’.
- It’s different in person.
- Fine. No sexting for us. (I’m pouting now.)
- I’ll make it up to you.
- How?
- I could come over...
- Why would you be coming over?
- So that we could...wait, are you just trying to get me sexting again?
- Trying and failing. Fine, come over. Quickly. Or I might just drop Noah a text.
- Don’t you dare. I’ll be there in ten minutes.
- I’ll be waiting. Naked. Ready. Willing.
- Rachel, you’re killing me.
- Wet.
- I hate you. I’m in the car. Stop texting or I’ll crash.
- You don’t need to read them.
- Especially if you stop sending them.
- Fine. Bye. I love you. Prude.
- I love you too. Harlot.
