A/N: Hi everyone! Jecixyl here! This my first fanfiction ever after many years of lurking (I know I'm an asshole and I'm sorry...I'm trying to change I swear!)

Someone on Tumblr said something like "Plot is awesome. But sometimes I just want some sweet Faberry kisses."

So since I have this huge problem of going from, "Oh I'm just gonna write this one-shot/short story," to "Wait, what's the backstory for this?" and "Oh shit that'd be a really cool set up for _!" to "Fuck what the hell am I going to do with this plot! There's so much planning to do!" I've decided to fill this Tumblr-Anon's request.

I'm going to write 50 one-shots based on one-word prompts from either this livejournal prompt table I found or Tumblr because:

A) It'll help me get back into writing again

B) It will hopefully increase my productivity by distracting me from the major plots lines of my multi-chapter fics when I get too wrapped up in them I can't think anymore. I have original things, a Werewolf!Rachel story (since there isn't a lot of those) and a Football!Rachel story (because 'You Hit Like a Girl' being unfinished left a void in my soul) in the works

C) It'll help me get over my 'must-have-epic-plot' issue so I can get so I can get some freaking writing practice in.

D) I just need some sweet lady kisses sometimes too

Anyway...I am happy to present to you my first fandom contribution (Ermehgerd Yay!) Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing! Please don't sue me!

Hot

Rachel was dying. Okay well not the blood oozing, heart stopping kind of dying, but her current state of affairs was no less agonizing, and had the potential for being just as traumatic. What was the point of owning a perfectly good air conditioning system if you weren't going to use it?

"'It's not hot enough,' they said. 'Just open your window,' they said." Not hot enough her foot! Clearly her fathers were delusional. It was so hot out that she was two degrees away from melting into a Rachel puddle that would eventually evaporate away.

How could she sing as a puddle?! The resonance would be completely off and that would mean that her adoring masses would be deprived of the full extent of her talent, which is just unacceptable. She's aware that she may be acting a touch dramatic, but she's Rachel Barbara Berry gosh darn it! She was born for drama, and if she's going to complain about something, she's going to do it right, and make angels cry.

Perhaps she should just sit in the bathtub for the rest of the day or stand in front of the fridge for a couple of hours. Except that wouldn't work because she would need to continuously change the bath water once it became too warm to reliably lower her body temperature, and keeping the refrigerator door open for prolonged periods of time would lower its internal temperature and cause their food to go rancid and Rachel was not prepared to be responsible for poisoning her fathers, even if they were being thermostat Nazis. "I mean really..." she muttered to herself, "they should know better than that. We're Jewish."

She threw her fan across her room in frustration and flopped backward onto her bed. It was just making things worse anyway; it was only blowing more hot air into her face. She never thought the day would come that she would welcome a slushie facial but right now, she does, she would welcome several of them actually.

Heck, she would even drive down to Quinn's house, give her a ten dollar bill, drive her to the nearest convenience store and tell then her to have at it. Once they stepped outside again of course. It wouldn't be very nice of them to leave a mess for the attendant, and she would need to bring some towels to clean up and protect the upholstery of her car.

She sat up abruptly, a determined look on her face. She was going to march over to blonde's right now and demand that Quinn throw that wonderful, icy sweetness all over her sweltering body. Yes there is a part of her that realizes neither of them wants to go back to that time in their history, as they had been on fairly good terms of late, but surely Quinn will understand how unbearably hot she is and help take care of her.

They were kind of friends now weren't they? And dear lord, she just needs something to take the edge off, and unlike Santana, she trusts Quinn not to get it up her nose or in her eyes. It might even be conceivable that the ex-cheerleader would be agreeable to helping her clean up after. They could make it a bonding experience. Replace bad memories with good ones and that sort of thing.

Hold on a moment, what in the world is she thinking? Quinn has a pool! A pool in which she could be swimming surrounded by cool, crisp water and Quinn in a swimsuit. And really that last thing could motivate a drunken three legged cat to bark like a dog and attack its own mother.

She could picture it in her mind perfectly, with the blonde stretched lazily on her stomach, eyes closed with a blissful smile on her face while enjoying a little sunbathing. She could see smooth, muscled shoulders giving way to an expanse of flawless alabaster skin, glistening hypnotically with droplets of let over pool water, broken only by the yellow bikini string tied across the middle.

Her jaw twitched and she needed to take a second to swallow. She wanted to untie that imaginary string with her teeth as her hands trailed down the curve of Quinn's spine. Kneading, stroking, caressing, tickling her way down to her perfectly firm…

Dear Barbara! Heatstroke! She has heatstroke! Because there is not one part of that cognitive process that she is willing to take responsibility for. With a quick nod to herself, she springs out of bed and into some pink flip flops before quickly making her way to the door. She figured she'd better get herself moving before she soaks her sheets…with sweat. And not anything else. Because she was hot. Which had nothing to do with Quinn. That would be absurd.

-Q&R-

Quinn was leisurely soaking up the sun after cooling off in the pool when Rachel came storming around the side of her house, looking adorably disheveled. Her hair was up in a messy ponytail and she was wearing a white tank top and the tiniest yellow booty shorts Quinn had ever seen, a light sheen of sweat adorning the rest of her. But before she even had time to absorb the fact that Rachel was in her backyard, the diva was whipping her shirt over her head and wriggling her shorts down her legs. Then she was spinning abruptly on her heel to look the ex-cheerleader in the face.

"I need to use your pool," Rachel said matter-of-factly and Quinn could only blink at her, her mouth hanging open in shock. It took her a moment to process that the brunette was pretty much naked in front of her. Hazel eyes tracked up slender, tanned legs and paused briefly on a cocked hip that teased subtly at the curve of Rachel's ass. Her breath caught in her throat.

What she would give to be that scrap of purple fabric, to be pressed hotly against Rachel's skin, holding her sensually, nestled gently between her thi— no! There is no way that she was just thinking about touching Rachel's...intimates. Clearly, she's been out of the pool too long and is delirious from the heat. It was time to cool off. NOT because of Rachel. She ripped her eyes away from the singer's impatient figure, sucked in a breath and then turned back with a scowl on her face.

"What the hell Rachel?!" she cried, "You can't just show up at my house, rip off your clothes and then start demanding things!"

Actually, Rachel could always demand things if she was going to rip her clothes off. But the little songstress didn't need to know that. She might get ideas. Wonderful, dirty, fantastically hedonistic ideas that – STOP, what was wrong with her? Get a hold of yourself, she thought. Oh crap Rachel was talking.

"— so may I please, please be offered reprieve from the recent heat wave through use of your facilities?"

Quinn chuckled quietly to herself before gracefully sliding from her chair to stand in front of the irate diva. She crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow, "And what am I getting out of this?" she tilted her head down to look at Rachel pointedly and the brunette just threw her hands up and stomped her foot in indignation.

"I don't know Quinn! I can't imagine I have anything that would be of value to you, but if you insist on taking some form of payment from me then you can have whatever you want! I don't have the time or energy to negotiate with you right now! I wasn't able to acquire an adequate amount of sleep last night because it was absolutely sweltering in my room and I just spent the whole day writhing around on my bed in heat induced agony. So for the love of Barbara let me cool off before I die of heat stroke and come back to haunt you because you were too selfish to share your swimming space." She didn't realize how close she'd gotten to the other girl in the midst of her ranting and a tense silence fell between them as Rachel stared into Quinn's darkening eyes, waiting for her response.

Quinn couldn't breathe. Her voice caught in her throat when Rachel had stepped forward, and now she was just inches away. She could feel her panting against her lips, her warmth radiating across the space between them, dancing across Quinn's already overheated skin. It was like every nerve ending in her being was suddenly burning with the intensity of Rachel's proximity.

God she was so close, and so freaking hot; flushed and sweaty, pink tongue peeking out to wet her lips as brown eyes melted into a dark coal that lit with just as much fire. It was like Rachel was burning from the inside out, though with what she couldn't be sure. But when she felt an answering flame ignite low in her belly, she moved the tiniest bit closer, happy to allow energy thrumming between them to lead her.

No answer seemed forthcoming, but Rachel didn't notice. Somewhere along the line the atmosphere had shifted and she couldn't seem to catch her breath. The air was thick and heavy; the sun was beating down as waves of heat rose up from the ground to swirl around them, wrapping them up in a steamy fog. She couldn't think, her body was pulsing and her mouth was suddenly dry.

When she caught the deep amber of Quinn's eyes flick down to her lips to watch so intently, as if she could, through sheer power of will, catch another glimpse of Rachel's tongue, the little singer was more than ready to give it to her. Multiple times. In fact, she would be happy to allow Quinn full access to her tongue and all of its skills for the rest of her life if she kept looking at her like that. The heat was unbearable.

"I want you to kiss me," Quinn murmured, her gaze dropping to follow her fingers, which are seductively trailing up and down Rachel's hips, tugging gently at the bikini stings she finds there.

The instant she feels the blonde's touch Rachel freezes. The fire that started when she first realized just how close she'd gotten to the ex-cheerio had quickly escalated into a raging inferno.

Her fists clench and unclench in an effort to keep from reaching out as the flames of her desire batter at her senses. She almost didn't hear Quinn's husky request, but when the reality of it begins to form slowly in her mind she finds she's so hot she's just about ready to combust.

Her eyes slide shut with a soft groan as she touches her forehead softly to Quinn's and takes a moment to collect herself. The images flashing across her eyelids made it incredibly difficult to consider any form of fine motor control.

Quinn, sweaty and flushed for a different reason. On her back, legs spread, yellow bikini bottoms still hooked around on ankle as her back arches in ecstasy. Chest heaving, and nipples pebbled under her palms while the Quinn gasps her name. Or Quinn on her hands and knees, hips swaying wantonly at nothing because she's so desperate for Rachel's touch.

The singer mentally shakes herself. It wouldn't do to slobber all over the blonde like an over enthusiastic puppy. That's what vapid teenage boys are for.

Quinn, for her part, is beginning to get a little apprehensive as she searches Rachel's face. Had she read the situation wrong? Was Rachel just irritated because of the heat? Her fingers twitch nervously where they'd come to rest on the brunette's waist and it was like she pulled some kind of trigger.

Rachel's eyes snapped open and the uninhibited lust in them was like a laser straight to her clit. She didn't hear a word of what Rachel opened her mouth to say, but she sure as hell felt the fingers that were fisting in her hair, the feverish body that was suddenly pressed deliciously against her in all the right places and erotic rumble that bubbled up from Rachel's chest as she tugged Quinn closer and growled right into her open mouth, "If I happen to be hallucinating…don't you dare snap me out of it."

Their lips crashed together ravenously, like they were stranded in a desert dangerously dehydrated and the only oasis was located in the back of the other's throat. It was a frenzy of passion and there was an explosion behind Rachel's eyes. "Fireworks," she thought.

Her mind was hazy and lost in a sea of rolling heat, or maybe that was just the feeling of Quinn's hips rocking sensually into her own as the blonde's hands pulled desperately at her hips, thighs and back before finding purchase on the firm muscle of her ass. She needed her to be closer; she wanted to feel everything. Rachel whimpered and Quinn groaned around her tongue.

It was a blur of lips, teeth, tongue, gasping fingers, desperate mewls and panting breaths. Rachel could feel the wet heat of Quinn's sex grinding roughly against her hipbone and whatever moisture that hadn't evaporated off her skin was rapidly moving south.

"God, Quinn…" Rachel gasped, her eyes rolling back into her head as Quinn dove in to taste her neck. She licked, kissed and suckled a fiery trail over the expanse blushing skin that Rachel readily offered. And when she playfully scraped her teeth against the throbbing pulse underneath her tongue she felt the brunette tighten her grip on her hair to pull her closer, jerking her hips into a strategically placed thigh.

Rachel's breath hitched, "D-ungh, don't stop," Waves of heat were rolling sensuously from her core, flooding her awareness with spikes of searing pleasure. Her whole body was tingling. She felt so good.

The friction between them was delicious. Every square inch of connected skin white-hot and blazing; breasts, stomachs, hips and thighs; undulating, overwhelming and the pounding between their legs was becoming relentless.

"Fuck...the things I want to do to you Rachel…" Quinn rasped against the shell of Rachel's ear, before she pulled back to grip the brunette harshly to her again, reconnecting their lips in a violent kiss. There was pushing and pulling and grinding and shifting as she thrust against the hot body in front of her in an attempt to satisfy the growing hunger in her loins.

Rachel wanted all of it. But she was high on Quinn, and her sense was tangled in air thick with sex. It pulsated around their heated embrace and the strength of it made her reel. So when Quinn pushed forward with a particularly savage tilt of her hips, she stumbled backward and her foot caught on the edge of the pool which she forgot was behind them.

Two girlish shrieks and a loud splash later, they were both sputtering for air. "Oh god Quinn! I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" Rachel gushed as Quinn was wiping her hair out of her face, her hands flailing erratically to check Quinn over for injuries.

The blonde smiled reassuringly and caught the wayward limbs, bringing her arms down to hold Rachel's hands below the water, "It's fine Rachel, it was kind of my fault…I uh…sort of pushed you." Because I lost it and was ready to come on your leg. She was swooning a little at brunette's concern though.

There was a beat of awkward silence as Rachel looked down at their clasped hands, a curious look on her face. Quinn's eyebrow quirked up in a question as if to say, "What? I just mauled your face with my mouth, I think I can handle holding your hand." There was another pause, and they burst out giggling. Quinn released Rachel's hands and swam backwards a little, letting the water cool and refresh their feverish skin. Rachel groaned in contentment when she remembered that this was what she came for in the first place.

The diva dipped under the water again, surfacing with a happy grin and when she turned her head to thank her lovely hostess, what she saw looking back at her was paralyzing. A spark and ignition.

"Rachel..." The velvety sound of Quinn's voice coiling around her name was like the most irresistible siren call.

The gravity of what they did, and what they would have done to each other if she hadn't tripped, slammed hard into Rachel chest and she was frozen with wanting. The heady fog that engulfed sensibility returned with a vengeance, like a scorned lover.

Quinn's bottom lip had slipped anxiously between her teeth, a soft flush on her cheeks and neck. Her eyes were hooded, a predatory gleam peaking through thick lashes and a wicked smirk forming at the corners of her mouth. The space between them was positively humming, and it may have been a trick of the light or a hormone induced illusion, but the usually calm hazel of Quinn's eyes had sharpened to a piercing green. She felt like she was about to be devoured alive and the only thing she could think was, yes please.

The fire she thought was doused when she fell into the pool rapidly flickered back to life.

Rachel was shifting awkwardly back and forth, trying to keep herself from jumping on the blonde and yanking her forward so she could ravage that delectable mouth again. And when Quinn released her kiss swollen lip to sooth it with her tongue, Rachel couldn't take the tension anymore.

"Those things you want to do to me?" she asked, her voice thick with arousal, "What are they?" and Quinn didn't answer right away. She only drifted closer, wrapping Rachel up in her arms and pressing them tightly against each other, a sultry grin on her face that was full of naughty promises.

"Let me show you," she said, as she leaned down to claim her song bird's lips. And just like that, Rachel can't even feel the water anymore, just slick, heated skin that was soft and hard and hot and Quinn and everywhere.

Well… Rachel thought, as Quinn's tongue slid sensually against her own, coming over to Quinn's seems to have made her problem of overheating even worse, but she figures that if she's going to die by burning alive, she'd happily burn for Quinn. Every time.

The End.

A/N: I hope you liked it ^_^. I wanted the use the prompt in as many different ways as possible just as a challenge to myself.

Anyway, I have always loved writing, and I would like to call myself a writer, but I realized I haven't actually written anything substantial in ages. I take notes on things that inspire me and loosely outline stories and characters if the mood strikes me, but I haven't really sat down and committed to finishing them.

Over the last few years I sort of lost confidence in my ability as a writer, for a multiple reasons. Recently though, I've realized it's come down to fear that my work isn't good enough to share. I've been stuck in revision hell, where everything I do 'isn't ready' or 'could be better', and I know that all creative artists struggle with the same problem, and will continue to struggle with it every time they post something new.

What I really want to say is thank you. Thank you Faberry Fandom for staying so strong and so passionate through so much shit that you could inspire me (who has lost count of all the ships in her fleet and still done nothing) to FINALLY get over myself and contribute. You've all been so patient, and I don't want you to have to wait anymore without doing my part to make it easier.

If you can deal with the shit storm that is Glee, win poll after poll, trend worldwide, crank out the best quality fan made media of any fandom I've ever seen and organize a freaking convention for a couple that isn't (wasn't XD. It's so on now) even canon then I can get my shit together and say, "Even though I'm not sure how good this is...and maybe it could be better, I admit that I'm not perfect and I am, and will always be learning. And that I don't have to 'finish' learning before I publish something. And that I understand I can revise/edit until my fingers bleed and my vision blurs, but I'll never know if those revisions have really made a piece better until I have the courage to I ask someone."

I'm finally ready to ask.

So thank you. I want to give you everything I've got in support of this ship and I will continue to hone my craft so I can share more stories. Because you deserve it and I love you.

Don't forget to R&R! Any feedback is welcome.

~Jecixyl (I swear I won't talk as much in the next installments)