Summary: Rachel Berry was born just a little different than most girls. But that never stopped her from being who she was, or falling in love with a certain blonde cheerleader.

Setting: Season 1, No pregnancy

Rating: Mature (for sexual content)

Warnings: G!P (girl peen), Masturbation

Author's Note: I've always been fascinated to with the idea of girlpeens, especially on a somewhat realistic level. I love a lot of g!p stories, but find that most of them are either pure smut (which is amazing =p) or have characters very open and accepting of such a condition. So I wanted to take a crack at a somewhat realistic take on the g!p while also writing about the romance between Rachel and Quinn. I have no idea if it will work and any feedback is much appreciated.

If you see any spelling/grammar mistakes feel free to let me know. (I suck at proof reading my own stuff)

Thanks for reading!

zKai


Breathe. Just breathe.

Four counts in and eight counts out.

One….two…three… God, please go away….

She puffed a frustrated breath out her nose, before breathing in shakily.

She hated days like today.

Days where the Cheerios ran through the halls in their skimpy little skirts, flashing their tight spanks to the boys while hyping up the next 'bikini car wash'.

Days where Brittany insisted on showing the whole hallway how to do the splits.

Days where Santana bent at the waist to retrieve her books, knowing full well her Cheerio skirt would never cover her backside.

Days where Quinn was being particularly aggressive toward the Lima losers.

Come on!

The side of her head hit the stall wall with a dull thud.

Honestly, they need to make these stalls wider, she thought as she leaned her head against the wall, while still sitting comfortably on the seat of the toilet.

Focus!

She clenched her eyes shut.

Dead puppies…and kittens…and baby birds…Ew….

While the images disturbed her deeply, they weren't quite enough to relieve the hard ache.

Barbra losing her voice…No! Me losing my voice!

Her stomach dropped, but at least she didn't feel quite so stiff.

Yes, that's it. Me getting laryngitis (again) and….and…when I have the flu and the stomach acid burns my throat!

The very thought of her voice compromised almost made her sick to her stomach. It seemed to be enough of a distraction though and the throbbing mess at the apex of her thighs shrunk.

"Thank goodness…" she breathed, finally opening her eyes and glancing down at her naked groin.

She stood slowly, glancing out the little slit of the bath room stall just to be sure no one was around. Carefully she tucked the flaccid pain-in-her-ass into her compression shorts as she pulled them up. For a few moments, she took the time to gently adjust the bothersome thing, making sure it was well hidden while remaining comfortable.

Rachel reached for her skirt, which hung precariously just above her knee, only held up by the wide stance of her legs. She pulled it up and fastened the buttons quickly, sighing in relief at being put together once again.

She pushed open the stall door and headed to the sink. The littler brunette washed her hands, slowly humming her ABC's while she mused internally.

Who needs masturbation when the relief of getting rid of the arousal is reward enough?

Even she didn't buy that one.


It turned out the hall way wasn't any better than when she had originally left. The Cheerios were still out in full force, bouncing around with bright smiles and shaking hips.

Life really was difficult some times.

She hurried to her locker, taking solace in the fact lunch was nearly done.

"Hobbit!"

Rachel cringed. Even from down the hall Santana sounded cheery and Rachel wasn't sure what was worse, an angry Satan or a happy one.

Steeling herself, she looked toward the other girl who was fast approaching with a few of the other Cheerios hanging around her.

"Normally I'd tried to avoid contact with you for fear I would contract huge-snozz-syndrome, but we need a good chuckle," Santana said, her voice sickeningly sweet as they approached. The three other cheerleaders grinned, exchanging looks with each other.

"Well if your humor requires physical contact, please try to avoid my nose," Rachel said as casually as she could manage. She cast a little sideways glance toward them, before focusing on pulling a book from her locker.

"Ew, like I'd touch you,"

Santana actually looked disgusted and Rachel tried to ignore the painful twist in her chest.

"Come on, dwarf, say something funny," a blonde headed Cheerio taunted.

"I really don't have time to entertain your sick, abusive sense of humor. I have places to be."

Rachel slammed her locker, maybe with a little more force than necessary. After the incident earlier, that made her miss lunch, she was in no mood to deal with Santana and her cronies' verbal assault.

"Oh please. It's not like you've got anyone waiting for you," Santana snipped. She was obviously getting bored with the interaction and a bored Santana was not something to be taken lightly.

"Since no one in this school would touch you with a ten foot pole," one girl felt the need to add.

"We're probably getting radiation poisoning just standing this close to this abomination," Santana quickly added, jabbing her thumb in the direction of Rachel while looking at her goons.

"The only toxic one here is you, Santana," Rachel replied with as much bite as she could muster, though it wasn't much. Four Cheerios were a little too intimidating for real ire.

Santana's eyes flashed, like a predator that just spotted its prey.

"What did you say to…"

She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping desperately Santana would heed her plea to avoid her nose. But her words stopped abruptly and Rachel considered maybe the Cheerio had already knocked her out.

Cautiously she peaked one eye open and saw the four cheerleaders looking over their shoulders down the hall.

And that's when she saw her.

Quinn, her mind sighed.

Quinn Fabray walking down the hall, hands on her hips (which was usual), but it was her eyes that told the real story.

It made the hairs on Rachel's neck stand up. And the head Cheerio's presence obviously had the same effect on Santana.

Rachel really couldn't understand how Quinn could look so beautiful when her eyes were filled with such rage.

Like in slow motion, the blonde's eyes whipped to the right, zeroing in on Santana. Her gaze lingered there for a second before it shifted over to Rachel.

Quinn was giving her the dirtiest look she had ever had the displeasure... pleasure?... of receiving.

It caused her to gulp, since the not-so-little secret between her legs twitched.

This was it. Her life was going to end. Right there in the McKinley High main hall, to none other than Quinn Fabray. She was sure of it.

But then Quinn's pace slowed and the fearful students parted around her, giving her a wide berth of space.

"Locker room. Now," was demanded from those pretty lips, directed at Santana, who looked completely unamused at the order.

Rachel briefly wondered if Quinn could snap her fingers and Santana would follow, before leaning back against her locker to keep herself as far away from the two angry Cheerios as possible.

"And stop talking to her," Quinn added, sending a sneer Rachel's way.

It's funny how Quinn never actually calls me names, she thought as she cast her eyes down to avoid that hazel glare.

"Get your panties out of their knot," Santana griped toward her captain, but was in a hurry to follow the quickly retreating blonde.

Rachel watched them retreat, which was cue for the other girls to leave as well.

When Quinn glanced over her shoulder, Rachel sucked in a sharp breath.

Losing my voice!


"It's really is ridiculous Daddy," Rachel griped, letting her book bag drop hard on the counter.

"I mean, how in the world is it fair that we, as teenagers, are supposed to control our overly raging hormones when they run around it those…..skirts! They barely cover anything!"

Leroy hummed to indicate he was listening, casually leaning against the counter with a mug of hot tea between his palms. He glanced at the plaid mini skirt Rachel was sporting, wondering what she considered 'anything'.

"And they have all of these ridiculous functions! For example, this weekend is another one of those 'bikini' car washes…."

He wasn't sure why Rachel used air quotes around bikini.

"…which is a blatant attempt to coerce money of out impressionable young males, and others who appreciate the feminine form, all the while degrading the female population in that school by representing them as nothing more than sex objects! It's a travesty!"

She huffed out an angry breath, spinning around to look at her father who had a passive look on face as he stared back at her.

"Daddy!"

"You didn't seem to think the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders were a travesty," he commented calmly, fighting with everything he had to not break a smile.

Rachel's jaw dropped open.

3…2…1, he counted in his head, before Rachel's foot stomped against the floor.

"That you would even accuse me of something so…so…" she trailed off, obviously put-out and unsure what to say.

"They are grown women not impressionable youth!" Rachel stated shrilly, before storming off.

A chuckle rumbled up from his chest and Leroy rested his weight against the counter as he laughed at his daughter's antics.

"It's not funny!" she cried from the other room.

He knew she'd be on the sofa, sunken down into the cushions, with her arms crossed and a pout on her lips.

Rachel plopped down heavily on the couch and crossed her arm defiantly over her chest. It really wasn't fair, even if her Daddy didn't seem to think so. How were teenagers supposed to be able to control themselves?

Especially one that was female in every way except one.

"Do you want to talk about it instead of ranting?" Leroy asked, now standing just behind the couch.

Rachel huffed at the offer.

"Are you going to listen? And not make fun of me?" she asked accusingly. She looked over her shoulder at him and he raised his free hand in surrender.

The tall man moved around and sat in the arm chair adjacent to the couch, still cradling his mug.

"Everyone is going through the same thing you are," he commented after a moment.

That obviously struck a nerve. Rachel sat up quickly, gripped the edges of the couch and gazed hard at him.

"No!" she cried passionately. "No one is going through what I am."

Leroy arched a brow at her. "So you don't think every teenager has urges which they try to hide?"

"Well of course, but they don't have to hide…."

"But they do, don't they?" he questioned gently. "Yes, you have more at stake if you were unable to control yourself, but you have to realize that every kid it going through the same troubles you are. Boy or girl, they are expected to control their overly raging hormones."

He quirked his lips in a soft smile at the repeat of Rachel's own words. The girl deflated and slumped back against the couch.

"She's so pretty. It's not as though as can help myself," she said in a small voice.

Leroy reached out and placed a comforting hand on her knee, knowing exactly who his daughter was talking about.

"Everything that is happening is perfectly natural," he assured her.

Rachel puffed out a self-depreciating laugh, her eyes a little watery. "It's hard," she stated.

"I know. But you're at that age where some things are just unavoidable and it happens to everyone."

She was quiet for a long time, staring at the ground and willing herself to stop feeling the need to cry.

"You shouldn't fixate on one person, sweetheart. I know she probably seems perfect at the moment, but there are so many people out there. Your tunnel vision on her is so strong you're probably missing lots of wonderful people around you," Leroy said to her.

"I guess you're right," she mumbled, though couldn't stop thinking that all of those wonderful people weren't as pretty as Quinn Fabray.

Shallow much? She thought, shaking her head at her own thoughts.

"Anddddd," he hummed, drawing the word out. "…if you actually talk to this Quinn you would be a step up from staring creepily at her in the hall way."

"I'm not creepy," she whined, pouting at her father. He just grinned at her and ruffled her hair as he stood, making her huff in annoyance.

"Just think about it kiddo," he said on his way to the kitchen.


Yeah, just talk to her, Rachel thought as she lay back against her bed later that night, her mind's voice particularly sarcastic tonight.

She could just imagine how that would go.

Hey Quinn, I just wanted to talk to you…Oh, you want nothing to do with someone like me….I'm a Lima loser?...Right, of course….what was I thinking?

The brunette sighed, turning over and hiding her face against her pillow. She breathed deeply while she thought about the way Quinn looked so good today, even when she was obviously pissed off.

Her little friend stirred at the thoughts, twitching inside the loose pair of boxer shorts she was sporting.

How typical.

She rolled over again, now resting on her back, since staying on her stomach would have been uncomfortable at that point.

Rachel watched with a slightly annoyed expression as a tent appeared in the front of her boxers.

Biting gently into her lower lip, she pondered her options. She could go with the normal think-of-horrible-things-till-it-disappears route, or she could get rid of it the way that would not leave her frustrated afterward.

She debated for a long time, uncomfortably shifting her hips as the tip pressed against her shorts.

It only took a few minutes for her resolve to break and her hand slowly shifted down her stomach.

At first she gently cupped herself over the barrier of the boxer, rubbing softly. She ensured her arousal was at full mast before dipping her hand inside the hem of her shorts and grasped herself bare.

The reaction was immediate. Her hips lurched up and she bit into her lip to keep from making a sound.

With her free hand, she shimmied her boxers down enough to free her penis. She glanced down at herself, seeing the way her hand couldn't completely wrap around her girth and felt a bit of pride.

God, you're as bad as a boy, she thought, before dragging her hand down the shaft, effectively cutting off her thoughts.

She worked slowly, pumping up and down, always in a perfect, but languid rhythm. Near the tip, she gently twisted her wrist catching the cut head it a way to maximize pleasure.

Her palm collected a little moisture from the tip which helped her hand to glide more smoothly down her length.

If she focused hard enough, she could finish without thinking about anything in particular, a slight benefit of being a horny sixteen-year-old in Rachel's opinion. Tonight she couldn't quite keep her mind blank though.

After all, it was a certain blonde that triggered her current condition.

Rachel tried hard to steer away from thoughts of Quinn or any girl she knew for that matter. It made her feel guilty, like she was objectifying them. But who could resist someone like Quinn Fabray?

A soft whimpered left her lips at the thought of the head cheerleader.

She let her mind drift, not prodding her thoughts to go in any specific direction, so it wasn't really her fault when her mind's eye showed Quinn on her knees. Rachel gasped, tugging a little harder.

The brunette had never let her mind wander to oral sex, hand jobs usually proved more than enough pleasure, and she was caught a little off guard as she imagined Quinn looking up at her through her eyelashes and still dressed in her uniform.

"Can I?" dream Quinn asked, reaching to gentle cup the outside of Rachel's thighs. Dream Rachel nodded frantically and the blonde leaned forward.

With a surprised moan, Rachel felt the pleasure bubble up and then explode, her orgasm causing her hips to jump in her hand. She milked it for a few moments, stroking quickly while small squirts of cum sprang from her member.

She relaxed with a shuddering breath, feeling her muscles relax and her penis start to soften. Rachel lay there contently until she realized what had happened. Looking down, she wrinkled her nose in at the sight of white staining her tank-top over her stomach.

Groaning, she reached toward her bed stand for a tissue.


Rachel's really not sure how she ended up at the bottom of the social ladder. Sure, she could be a little overbearing and her talent is a little intimidating and she might be a tiny bit overzealous, but no one ever actually told her she was at the bottom of the pyramid.

In fact, she's ninety percent sure that the reigning head Cheerio decided people's fates and Quinn has never even talked to her. Quinn's never called her a name or threw a slushy at her. Maybe there was some sort of list, which only the popular kids got to see.

Mostly, it all seemed really confusing.

And it's not like Rachel had any choice in the matter. She walked into McKinley High, fresh faced and from a new town and almost instantly dropped into the ranks of losers.

Quinn had been a freshman at the time, so maybe it was the previous Cheerio's captain that sealed her fate.

Either way, she was going to break the trend of being bullied and actually talk to Quinn.

Since the moment she laid eyes on Quinn Fabray (freshman year, on the football field) Rachel was smitten. She was, and still is, the prettiest girl Rachel had ever seen.

She had been confident as a naïve freshman, thinking that she could easily befriend Quinn. Once they were friends with a little finesse and perfect timing, Rachel would reveal her attraction and the two of them could explore their budding romance.

Of course, she hadn't counted on the fact that Quinn was a hard girl to get to. She was constantly surrounded by her fellow Cheerios and if not them, there was a string of boys lining up to vie for her attention.

And being shoved into the 'Lima loser' group really alienated her from any chance to talk to Quinn. It'd been a whole year and she still couldn't think of a good excuse to approach the blonde.

Today was different. Today she was going to take her Daddy's advice and talk to the girl. She'd have to keep the flirting to a bare minimum since it hadn't taken long to figure out that same-sexed couples were "not allowed" at McKinley.

Rachel knew though, if she got a chance to talk to Quinn, to become friends, her charming ways would certainly win over the blonde.


She stood at the end of the hall, near the gym, watching Quinn half listening to a few girls near her locker. Once the bell rang, Rachel knew there would be a short window of time where the girls would run off to get their things and Quinn would be left alone for a moment.

Just walk right up and say hi. Easy.

Rachel tried to look casual, not wanting to draw attention to herself. She jumped a little as the bell rang and made a determined line straight toward Quinn.

Five more steps and she'd be in perfectly acceptable greeting range. Then Quinn turned and Rachel lost her resolve.

She hooked a hard left, swerving away from Quinn and into the oncoming stream of students.

Smooth….

"Move it loser," a football player snapped when she accidentally bumped into his shoulder while fleeing.


Her next chance came between second and third period. Third period English was one of the two classes she shared with Quinn and it would be the perfect opportunity for conversation.

She waited near her locker, gazing inconspicuously from the corner of her eye at the blonde, whose locker was just down the hall.

The bell chimed and Rachel prepared to move in as Quinn walked her way.

She stepped away from her locker, poised to fall into step with the cheerleader, when a student next to her shrieked and she felt chilled droplets against her cheek that made her jump.

Tina Cohen-Chang stood beside her, dripping in red slushy as the hall erupted in laughter. Rachel wiped the residual slushy from her own cheek. She was about to ask if the girl was okay, but she was already darting toward the bathroom.

Looking up, Rachel realized Quinn was already gone. Apparently slushy facials weren't amusing enough for the head Cheerio to stick around for.


Class. That's where it was going to happen. She would go to class, sit beside Quinn and finally strike up a conversation. No more losing her gumption, no more Neanderthals messing up her timing.

The slushy attack put her a little behind, but since most of the students had stopped to look and laugh, she managed to be one of the first in the English room.

She'd need to be mindful that things in this class would be little tricky. Quinn always sat near the back and she always sat near Santana. Rachel shuddered a little at the thought.

Quinn was one of only three seated and Rachel jumped at the opportunity.

She headed for the back of the class.

Wait…what if Santana kicks me out of the seat? Or worse! Quinn… What do I even say? Hey Quinn, just wanted to sit next to you today even though I never do and this a little weird isn't it?

Oh God…

Rachel glanced around frantically, seeing the flaw in her plan. Only problem was she was already at the back row of desks.

She sucked in a deep breath.

You are Rachel Barbra Berry and you aren't afraid of anything. Get your act together, she thought, before stepping toward the desk beside Quinn.

The blonde had her eyes turned down toward her book, which was already turned to the page they would be starting on that day. She rolled her pencil between her fingers and tapped it on the edge of the desk every so often.

"Mind if I sit here?" Rachel asked abruptly, her voice squeaking a little. Even as her cheeks flushed, she tried not to look horribly mortified that her voice cracked.

Lazy hazel eyes slid up to her and then Quinn arched one brow.

Rachel practically swooned at the sight.

"Sure," the blonde said after a moment, obviously taking the time to size up the girl standing before her.

Swallowing thickly, even as she felt a flood of relief, Rachel slipped into the seat, but not before offering Quinn a gigantic smile.

The blonde's brow stayed quirked at the sight of Rachel's smile, but after a moment chalked it up to another loser being eager to please. She turned her eyes back to her book, obviously not actually reading it.

Rachel closed her eyes and took in what she hoped would be a calming breath. She smoothed her hands over her skirt, before turning toward Quinn.

"Quinn," she said, but the name kind of stuck on her tongue. She had never actually addressed the blonde and if she was being honest with herself, the girl's name sounded good on her own lips.

Quinn lifted her head, giving her a slightly confused look. It almost sounded like Rachel's voice was filled with…affection? She wasn't really sure, but the brunette sounded a little weird.

When the girl didn't say anymore and continued to stare, Quinn glanced away and then back, waiting for more.

"Berry?" she questioned when she realized Rachel wasn't going to continue.

Rachel practically jumped at the sound of her last name. Acknowledgement!

Quinn watched the way Rachel seemed to perk up and made deliberate eye contact. Which all would have been fine, but she still wasn't saying anything and Quinn was getting slightly annoyed.

"Did you need something?" she asked, her voice taking on a slight edge.

Is Rachel always this awkward? No wonder she's a geek.

"Oh no…I mean yes…actually…" Rachel tried her damnedest to make an actual sentence. It really wasn't fair though. Quinn was just so pretty and smart. For once in her life, Rachel was actually speechless.

And there went the eyebrow, arching up on Quinn's forehead in obvious questioning.

"I'm sorry. I don't know where my head is today," she quickly covered and let out a quick relieved breath. Quinn continued to stare at her.

"I just wanted to inquire about the time and location of your upcoming car wash fundraiser," Rachel said.

Good thinking. Rachel mentally gave herself a pat on the back.

Quinn relaxed a little, though was a little confused why Rachel didn't talk like a normal person.

"It's Saturday at two," the blonde said slowly. She glanced up, feeling a bit of relief as the rest of the class seemed to be trickling in. "In the parking lot," she added as an afterthought.

"Great! I've been needing to get my vehicle washed for some time now and it only seems appropriate that I take the opportunity of your fundraiser to get it cleaned. After all, it's for a good cause right?" Rachel rambled quickly.

"Uh yeah," Quinn replied, still staring at Rachel with a slightly bewildered look. Does she always talk like that? She wondered.

"So I'll see you there?" Rachel prodded with a little less enthusiasm, her voice soft and slightly hopeful.

"Yeah,"

Nailed it! Rachel internally fist pumped.


Thank you very much for reading!

Next Chapter: A little history on Rachel's condition, More Faberry interaction

Just some stats for myself:

Posted: 1/12/2014

Word Count: ~4000