Fic: Let's Be More Than This
Title: Let's Be More Than This
Rating: Hard R
Pairing: Rachel/Santana
Prompt(s): Pezberry Week: AU of any kind
Summary: This game of foreplay has been going on for a year.
Disclaimer: haha...please. If I owned them, they'd so do it every chance they got.
A/N: A quick Pezberry fic for Pezberry Week. If you haven't been there, go check it out. Also, thanks to cranberry_pi for reading this over for me. All mistakes are mine. Enjoy.
The applause was thunderous as Santana took the stage. It always was when they played the Blackbox Sound Station. She flashed the crowd her signature smirk and adjusted the mic, making sure her guitar didn’t accidentally hit the stand. The audience settled down as she cleared her throat and moved forward to speak.
“What’s up Blackbox?!” She said loudly. There were mostly women before her and they cheered and catcalled, causing her to chuckle a little. She hadn’t been sure about coming out when their managers had suggested it four years ago, but it was seriously the best decision she’d ever made. Their shows had sold out with a vengeance wherever they went usually. Plus, there was never a shortage of hot women throwing themselves at her come the end of the night. So really, it was a win-win situation for all.
Only tonight she was looking for one woman in particular. Her eyes scanned faces as she introduced the rest of the band. It was old hat, the banter between her and Anya, the bassist, that she could repeat in her sleep. A little flirting and winking that seemed to drive the crowd crazy and no one seemed to notice that she wasn’t even completely paying attention.
Full lips wrapped around a thin black straw, causing a little tongue to peek out just as Santana’s eyes landed on them. She felt socked in the gut. She licked her own lips in response discreetly and dragged her eyes up to the familiar dark ones. They widened in surprise and seemed to soften just a little. And fuck it was messing with Santana’s insides. This little game had been going on for a while and Santana was done. She never got hung up on anyone, least of all someone she’d never actually fucked. So, whatever was happening here needed to get out of her system and with the quickness. And there was only one way to do it.
“All right, kids. Tonight we’re going to do something a little different,” she said, ignoring Anya’s confused expression. Fuck it, sometimes you had to shake things up and it had been a fucking year of waiting. Santana was going to make her move tonight. “I’d like to do a cover of an old classic. Shit, I don’t think we’ve done this in about two years, ladies.” She glanced at the rest of the band over her shoulder and shrugged. “It’s just...there’s a special young lady in the audience tonight...” Her words trailed off and Anya scoffed. Fuck her. So what if she knew what Santana was getting at? She brought her eyes back to the ones in the audience and smirked. She wanted there to be no mistake. “...And well, ladies, I know you all know what it’s like to have a little crush...” Shouts and cheers rang out again and the music behind her started. “So, if you could all help me out.”
She wouldn’t exactly call what she was feeling a crush. Extreme lust seemed to be a more apt name for it, but she’d needed to tie it into the set or their managers flipped a shit. Her smirk was seductive and her eyes, sultry as they fixed on their prey. The first note sprang from her lips, in a smooth alto that she knew had caused a shiver among many a girl in her day. It was pretty much the whole reason she’d gotten into music in the first place.
“I got a lot to say to you. Yeah, I got a lot to say... I notice your eyes are always glued to me...keeping them here and it makes no sense at all...”
The other joined in on the bridge and the audience cheered and sang along. Though Santana barely heard them. Her eyes were still fixated on the brunette who seemed to be just as enthralled with her. There was a connection there that she couldn’t really deny and it made arousal lick up her spine and her skin feel all tight and tingly. She felt hot, like on fire and knew it had nothing to do with the blazing stage lights. She was wearing practically nothing as it was, a short black mini, ankle boots with silver studs and this thin, black tank with black sequence on the bottom. She was actually kind of happy she’d opted for the skirt tonight. They didn’t call it easy access for nothing.
“Nothing compares to...quiet evening alone...Just the one, two...I was just counting on...that never happens...I guess I’m dreaming again...Let’s be more than...this...”
At the last word, Santana winked and looked away. She lifted her guitar and took the solo, moving around the stage. Very few things compared to performing for her and she lived for this shit. Yeah, it got her laid, but the rush she felt stepping on the stage was just a different kind of high. Tonight just seemed to heighten it as she basically eye fucked the brunette standing out among the sea of fans. And if Santana had had any doubts about her feelings being reciprocated, the heated glances she was receiving in return erased them.
---
Santana had barely made it through the second encore performance and now everyone wanted to talk to them, but she was anxious. She kept glancing out towards the front of the stage as fans went on and on. Monie, the drummer, leaned over and wrapped her arms around the singer’s shoulders. “Look. We all know you wanna bail. So, just go, but you fucking owe us,” she whispered with a knowing grin.
Rolling her eyes, Santana smirked back. “Just think of all the chicks that’ll be left over since I’m off the market tonight,” she boasted, grateful that they were gonna be cool about this. She was ten minutes from bailing on taking pictures and shit anyway, but it was nice to know they had her back.
She didn’t even bother to make excuses as she walked away. She hopped down from the little stage and looked around. A few patrons still milled about the club, but not the one she was looking for. She tried to keep it casual because it was just really fucking lame to look like you’d been ditched, not that she believed she was. It was how things usually went, but tonight was different. Tonight she’d been sure the girl would stay. She knew there was no way she’d been reading the signals wrong. There was no way you could look at someone like that and not have every intention of ripping their clothes off.
“Santana,” Jon called over to her from the bar and she turned. He waved his hand, beckoning her. She sauntered over and he held out a folded napkin. “The tiny chick in the red dress left this for you. Said something about needing to leave.”
She took the proffered napkin and unfolded it. The letters were slanted and a little rushed, but she could make out the words clearly.
If you meant what you said in the song then I’m definitely interested in being more than..this.
There was an address written at the bottom and Santana ran her thumb over the words again. She leaned over and pressed a kiss to Jon’s cheek. Then turned and walked out of the club. The air was cold, but she barely noticed as she stuck her hand out to hail a cab. The ride took about fifteen minutes. The longest fifteen minutes of her life, but she could feel her stomach tightening in anticipation with every mile they took closer to their destination. And by the time they pulled up in front of the row of townhomes, she was almost ready to puke from the anticipation.
There was another little note taped to the door when she arrived and she ripped it open eagerly, happy to be alone on the steps even if it was dark and this was a city she barely knew. Her eyes scanned quickly and she felt another jolt of arousal pool in her stomach.
Come inside. Don’t be shy. The bedroom is upstairs on the right. Don’t forget to lock the door behind you. I’d hate for us to be interrupted...
She didn’t really need any further invitation than that. She did as the note instructed, taking the stairs two at a time. She hesitated just outside of the bedroom door, chewing her bottom lip. This was by far the craziest thing she’d ever done before and she’d once fingered a girl while she ordered a meal in a Dairy Queen drive-thru. She didn’t know this woman and she could be sitting there, waiting to chop her up into little pieces. Or at the very least pull a total page from Misery and tie Santana to her bed and...well that wasn’t an entirely unpleasant thought.
Still, you only got one life, right? And Santana wasn’t about to waste anymore time standing out there when she could be fucking this girl out of her system for the rest of the night. She stepped through the threshold and leaned against the frame. A low moan escaped her throat and she licked her lips as she eyed the brunette laying on the bed in a pair of lacy pink panties and bow tied around her breasts, covering her nipples from Santana’s view. She’d question why a person would have a piece of ribbon that large if the sight wasn’t one of the hottest things she’d ever seen.
“Hi,” she said softly, her grin lazy as she slinked into the room.
“Hi,” the other woman whispered back just as Santana reached the bed.Their eyes held for a few moment and then Santana sank down onto the bed.
The next two hours moved on in a sort of blur. Clothes landed on the floor followed by the ribbon. Hands found warm skin and lips did what eyes had been doing for a year. At the first taste of the other woman. Santana moaned and she didn’t stop tasting until there was nothing beneath her fingers but a quivering mess of flesh. Whimpers and gasps and moans filled the air. Feverished pleas for release soon followed and Santana nearly came apart herself as she watched in rapt attention.
After that, it didn’t take much for her to find her purchase and her fingers fisted the sheets as surprisingly strong and nimble ones sank deep inside of her. She would’ve been embarrassed by her lack of stamina at the moment if they didn’t work her into another frenzy soon after.
---
As their ardor cooled and Santana caught her breath, she turned onto her side and found dark eyes studying her face. She was usually not the kind that stuck around for small talk, but things didn’t actually feel awkward this time.
“Hi,” she said, brushing the hair back from her face.
There was a tiny giggle and the shorter woman rolled her eyes. “Hi...” She bit her bottom lip, casting her eyes down for a moment before looking back up. “...I’m Rachel.”
Santana laughed harder than she should at that, her arm falling over her stomach. It wasn’t the first time she’d ever slept with someone whose name she didn’t know or couldn’t remember. It just seemed ridiculous that, after a year of foreplay, she hadn’t even thought to ask. She moved closer and ran her hand over Rachel’s side. “...I’m Santana.”
Rating: Hard R
Pairing: Rachel/Santana
Prompt(s): Pezberry Week: AU of any kind
Summary: This game of foreplay has been going on for a year.
Disclaimer: haha...please. If I owned them, they'd so do it every chance they got.
A/N: A quick Pezberry fic for Pezberry Week. If you haven't been there, go check it out. Also, thanks to cranberry_pi for reading this over for me. All mistakes are mine. Enjoy.
The applause was thunderous as Santana took the stage. It always was when they played the Blackbox Sound Station. She flashed the crowd her signature smirk and adjusted the mic, making sure her guitar didn’t accidentally hit the stand. The audience settled down as she cleared her throat and moved forward to speak.
“What’s up Blackbox?!” She said loudly. There were mostly women before her and they cheered and catcalled, causing her to chuckle a little. She hadn’t been sure about coming out when their managers had suggested it four years ago, but it was seriously the best decision she’d ever made. Their shows had sold out with a vengeance wherever they went usually. Plus, there was never a shortage of hot women throwing themselves at her come the end of the night. So really, it was a win-win situation for all.
Only tonight she was looking for one woman in particular. Her eyes scanned faces as she introduced the rest of the band. It was old hat, the banter between her and Anya, the bassist, that she could repeat in her sleep. A little flirting and winking that seemed to drive the crowd crazy and no one seemed to notice that she wasn’t even completely paying attention.
Full lips wrapped around a thin black straw, causing a little tongue to peek out just as Santana’s eyes landed on them. She felt socked in the gut. She licked her own lips in response discreetly and dragged her eyes up to the familiar dark ones. They widened in surprise and seemed to soften just a little. And fuck it was messing with Santana’s insides. This little game had been going on for a while and Santana was done. She never got hung up on anyone, least of all someone she’d never actually fucked. So, whatever was happening here needed to get out of her system and with the quickness. And there was only one way to do it.
“All right, kids. Tonight we’re going to do something a little different,” she said, ignoring Anya’s confused expression. Fuck it, sometimes you had to shake things up and it had been a fucking year of waiting. Santana was going to make her move tonight. “I’d like to do a cover of an old classic. Shit, I don’t think we’ve done this in about two years, ladies.” She glanced at the rest of the band over her shoulder and shrugged. “It’s just...there’s a special young lady in the audience tonight...” Her words trailed off and Anya scoffed. Fuck her. So what if she knew what Santana was getting at? She brought her eyes back to the ones in the audience and smirked. She wanted there to be no mistake. “...And well, ladies, I know you all know what it’s like to have a little crush...” Shouts and cheers rang out again and the music behind her started. “So, if you could all help me out.”
She wouldn’t exactly call what she was feeling a crush. Extreme lust seemed to be a more apt name for it, but she’d needed to tie it into the set or their managers flipped a shit. Her smirk was seductive and her eyes, sultry as they fixed on their prey. The first note sprang from her lips, in a smooth alto that she knew had caused a shiver among many a girl in her day. It was pretty much the whole reason she’d gotten into music in the first place.
“I got a lot to say to you. Yeah, I got a lot to say... I notice your eyes are always glued to me...keeping them here and it makes no sense at all...”
The other joined in on the bridge and the audience cheered and sang along. Though Santana barely heard them. Her eyes were still fixated on the brunette who seemed to be just as enthralled with her. There was a connection there that she couldn’t really deny and it made arousal lick up her spine and her skin feel all tight and tingly. She felt hot, like on fire and knew it had nothing to do with the blazing stage lights. She was wearing practically nothing as it was, a short black mini, ankle boots with silver studs and this thin, black tank with black sequence on the bottom. She was actually kind of happy she’d opted for the skirt tonight. They didn’t call it easy access for nothing.
“Nothing compares to...quiet evening alone...Just the one, two...I was just counting on...that never happens...I guess I’m dreaming again...Let’s be more than...this...”
At the last word, Santana winked and looked away. She lifted her guitar and took the solo, moving around the stage. Very few things compared to performing for her and she lived for this shit. Yeah, it got her laid, but the rush she felt stepping on the stage was just a different kind of high. Tonight just seemed to heighten it as she basically eye fucked the brunette standing out among the sea of fans. And if Santana had had any doubts about her feelings being reciprocated, the heated glances she was receiving in return erased them.
---
Santana had barely made it through the second encore performance and now everyone wanted to talk to them, but she was anxious. She kept glancing out towards the front of the stage as fans went on and on. Monie, the drummer, leaned over and wrapped her arms around the singer’s shoulders. “Look. We all know you wanna bail. So, just go, but you fucking owe us,” she whispered with a knowing grin.
Rolling her eyes, Santana smirked back. “Just think of all the chicks that’ll be left over since I’m off the market tonight,” she boasted, grateful that they were gonna be cool about this. She was ten minutes from bailing on taking pictures and shit anyway, but it was nice to know they had her back.
She didn’t even bother to make excuses as she walked away. She hopped down from the little stage and looked around. A few patrons still milled about the club, but not the one she was looking for. She tried to keep it casual because it was just really fucking lame to look like you’d been ditched, not that she believed she was. It was how things usually went, but tonight was different. Tonight she’d been sure the girl would stay. She knew there was no way she’d been reading the signals wrong. There was no way you could look at someone like that and not have every intention of ripping their clothes off.
“Santana,” Jon called over to her from the bar and she turned. He waved his hand, beckoning her. She sauntered over and he held out a folded napkin. “The tiny chick in the red dress left this for you. Said something about needing to leave.”
She took the proffered napkin and unfolded it. The letters were slanted and a little rushed, but she could make out the words clearly.
If you meant what you said in the song then I’m definitely interested in being more than..this.
There was an address written at the bottom and Santana ran her thumb over the words again. She leaned over and pressed a kiss to Jon’s cheek. Then turned and walked out of the club. The air was cold, but she barely noticed as she stuck her hand out to hail a cab. The ride took about fifteen minutes. The longest fifteen minutes of her life, but she could feel her stomach tightening in anticipation with every mile they took closer to their destination. And by the time they pulled up in front of the row of townhomes, she was almost ready to puke from the anticipation.
There was another little note taped to the door when she arrived and she ripped it open eagerly, happy to be alone on the steps even if it was dark and this was a city she barely knew. Her eyes scanned quickly and she felt another jolt of arousal pool in her stomach.
Come inside. Don’t be shy. The bedroom is upstairs on the right. Don’t forget to lock the door behind you. I’d hate for us to be interrupted...
She didn’t really need any further invitation than that. She did as the note instructed, taking the stairs two at a time. She hesitated just outside of the bedroom door, chewing her bottom lip. This was by far the craziest thing she’d ever done before and she’d once fingered a girl while she ordered a meal in a Dairy Queen drive-thru. She didn’t know this woman and she could be sitting there, waiting to chop her up into little pieces. Or at the very least pull a total page from Misery and tie Santana to her bed and...well that wasn’t an entirely unpleasant thought.
Still, you only got one life, right? And Santana wasn’t about to waste anymore time standing out there when she could be fucking this girl out of her system for the rest of the night. She stepped through the threshold and leaned against the frame. A low moan escaped her throat and she licked her lips as she eyed the brunette laying on the bed in a pair of lacy pink panties and bow tied around her breasts, covering her nipples from Santana’s view. She’d question why a person would have a piece of ribbon that large if the sight wasn’t one of the hottest things she’d ever seen.
“Hi,” she said softly, her grin lazy as she slinked into the room.
“Hi,” the other woman whispered back just as Santana reached the bed.Their eyes held for a few moment and then Santana sank down onto the bed.
The next two hours moved on in a sort of blur. Clothes landed on the floor followed by the ribbon. Hands found warm skin and lips did what eyes had been doing for a year. At the first taste of the other woman. Santana moaned and she didn’t stop tasting until there was nothing beneath her fingers but a quivering mess of flesh. Whimpers and gasps and moans filled the air. Feverished pleas for release soon followed and Santana nearly came apart herself as she watched in rapt attention.
After that, it didn’t take much for her to find her purchase and her fingers fisted the sheets as surprisingly strong and nimble ones sank deep inside of her. She would’ve been embarrassed by her lack of stamina at the moment if they didn’t work her into another frenzy soon after.
---
As their ardor cooled and Santana caught her breath, she turned onto her side and found dark eyes studying her face. She was usually not the kind that stuck around for small talk, but things didn’t actually feel awkward this time.
“Hi,” she said, brushing the hair back from her face.
There was a tiny giggle and the shorter woman rolled her eyes. “Hi...” She bit her bottom lip, casting her eyes down for a moment before looking back up. “...I’m Rachel.”
Santana laughed harder than she should at that, her arm falling over her stomach. It wasn’t the first time she’d ever slept with someone whose name she didn’t know or couldn’t remember. It just seemed ridiculous that, after a year of foreplay, she hadn’t even thought to ask. She moved closer and ran her hand over Rachel’s side. “...I’m Santana.”