Title: I Must Be Dreaming
Author: LilyMarieEvansPotter
Pairing: Puck/Quinn
Rating: M
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the great Ryan Murphy. I am merely feeding off of his amazing genius.
Summary: The first night he dreamt about Quinn Fabray was the night everything changed.
AN: So this little fic was sparked by sudden, unexpected inspiration. It's a little smutty but tastefully so I hope haha. I just love Puck and Quinn together; they sizzle with all that chemistry. I do plan on making this a two chapter short story providing I get enough interest and feedback. Enjoy loves, and please leave a review. They really make my day :)
He's burning.
It feels like every inch of his body is on fire.
And it's the most magnificent sensation he's ever felt in all his sixteen years.
The taste of strawberry is overwhelming, because that thin coat of gloss that makes those full lips of hers so damn irresistible is strawberry flavoured.
It renders him ravenous for more.
The scent of her is heavy in the air and completely envelops him; it seers his nostrils and scorches his throat.
A mixture of the expensive perfume she wears dedicatedly everyday, entwined with lilies her favourite flowers and scent of the body wash she uses and laced with strawberry, the essence of her lip gloss…
It's the most remarkable aroma in the world because it's so entirely her.
He doesn't know how he got into this position.
And by god, he doesn't care.
This is perfection.
Her faultless form is positioned on the folds of his bed expectantly.
Startling green eyes watch him with an intensity that causes his very blood to boil within his veins as it rushes rapidly through his body.
Blonde hair that is seemingly as soft as the purest silk is splayed delicately over the pillow she's propped back against, the only material obstructing her naked form from his hungry eyes being the lacy red underwear her perfect curves support.
She would put any Victoria Secret model to shame.
Her teeth bite into her plump bottom lip and he has to suppress a groan.
No female in the history of mankind had ever had this severe an effect on him.
Ever.
Then she's crawling towards him with the fiery look of a smouldering temptress.
It's only then that he becomes aware of the fact that he's seated on the end of his bed in nothing more than his favourite boxer shorts, practically salivating over the goddess laid out before him.
He can't believe this is happening.
This is actually happening.
Puck hasn't even a second to collect himself before lips are pressed to his in a welcomed kiss and again he tastes that addictive tang of strawberry.
This was going to render him with a new beloved food.
He knew it was.
With an avid longing he kissed her back.
In all his days of living, Noah Puckerman had kissed a lot of girls, but this was unlike any kiss he'd ever experienced. It was blissful.
It was heavenly.
It was utter perfection.
And it doesn't matter that she's his best friend's girlfriend.
It doesn't matter that she's President of the Celibacy Club.
It doesn't matter that she's the goddamn Virgin Mary in teenage form.
Nothing matters anymore.
Only that singular idyllic moment.
She slips away from him, nestling herself backwards on the contours of the bed again, and this time he needs no convincing to accept the open invitation that is right there in front of him.
Shifting forward, his hand slides up the length of her bare leg, the skin feeling so very much like silk against his rough fingertips as they graze higher along those delectable tresses of flesh; each inch higher up they climb provide him with the opportunity to follow after that trail until his hands take hold of her nimble hips and he manoeuvres his body to align almost perfectly with hers, supporting most of his own weight whilst still granting them both such a delightful closeness to the other.
Then his lips are on hers again and his head is spinning.
A moan falls freely from him as she nips at his bottom lip, her thin arms lacing slowly around his neck, hips rocking up temptingly against his.
His heart is beating like a drum and he's scared he might have a heart attack.
He doesn't want to die.
Not yet.
The skin at her neck tastes just as divine as her lips and he takes full advantage of the exposed area; nipping, sucking, licking, kissing; revelling in the feel and taste of that skin which makes his very mouth water.
"Puck…"
His name has never sounded so wonderful than when it is uttered breathlessly by her in that very moment.
Like a heavenly prayer whispered by an angelic figure.
And he wants to hear it again.
And again.
And again.
With an eagerness that could not be disguised even then, his hands slipped beneath her, undoing that forsaken bra with a skill that had taken years to master.
He was good with his fingers.
She would quickly learn that.
He would make sure of it.
A new path is followed by his mouth as his lips work down over her collarbone to the hollow between her breasts, a hand moving to gently take one of them in palm kneading lightly at the tender flesh causing her to emit the most illicit moan of pleasure that rocketed through him like an electric shock.
Her hips are forced up hard against his causing him to groan harshly against her skin.
This girl would be the death of him.
Then her nails are running down his back, leaving angry red trails along his swarthy flesh before her hands reposition themselves at his boxers wearily.
Pulling back from her chest, Puck is free to gaze down upon the form of the glorious creature before him who looks at him with green eyes that he had never noticed were so damn gorgeous until that very moment.
She smiles and his breath is stolen momentarily away.
"I want you."
Puck is pretty sure he's in a state of shock when she speaks those words. They are so huskily ushered filled with longing and lust and he knows he won't deny her what she wants.
She always gets what she wants.
Kissing her is the only way he can inform her that her wish is most certainly granted because his hazy brain has lost the ability to send the appropriate waves to his mouth which help him form words.
He's mute but that doesn't stop her from receiving the message loud and clear from the hungry movement of lips alone.
He's rid of his boxers before he has time to grasp the concept.
It's a freedom he's never been more grateful for.
And her hips grind invitingly against him as his hands drift down to the thin fold of her panties, fingers ushering under the elastic waist of the lacy material.
"Quinn…"
Her name is stifled against the curves of her lips, but it's spoken none the less and leaves the sweetest taste on his tongue…
Then everything fades to black.
She slips from his grasp.
And he opens his eyes.
His bedroom is dark.
Dark and empty.
His body is coated in a thin sheet of sweat as he pushes himself up straight, leaning back against the head board.
His heart is hammering furiously in his chest and he has a hard on that's going to take more than just a five minute cold shower to get rid off.
His head is spinning, and he feels so disorientated. It takes him along while to piece everything together and realise that none of it had actually happened.
He'd been sleeping the whole time.
That was the first night he dreamt about Quinn Fabray.
But it wouldn't be the last.
And as he settled back down against the crumpled folds of his bed, he turned on his side and involuntarily licked his lips.
He could still taste strawberry.