Fic: Not So Random Encounters
Title: Not So Random Encounters
Author: Helion
Chapters: Don't know yet. May be a one shot, may continue it.
Pairing: Rachel/Santana, illusions to Brittany/Santana (past)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Prompt Fill for Glee Kink Meme: Rachel has a fascination with Santana's breasts. Santana has had enough of the staring and pulls Rachel into an empty room/bathroom stall/car/corner/whatever and takes her shirt off. Rachel touches without asking. Santana likes it. Sex ensues.
Warnings: Language, Smutty-sexytimes.
Spoilers: Up through Rocky Horror I think.
Disclaimer: If they were mine, we wouldn't NEED fanfiction. Also, Glee would prolly be on Showtime, because the places that my brain takes them are not FCC compatible.
A/N: I know, I know. I suck for not posting in so long. I also suck for not posting on Satan and the School Girl. I'm still working on it, I swear. I'm just blocked on EVERYTHING. Even this I wrote like two months ago. School killed me and now that I'm on break (and the hollidays are over) I'mworking on writing again. I almost have another chapter of SATSG finished, hopefully I'll have it up soon! Hopefully this makes up for it a bit...
First day of School:
Santana snapped her fingers in front of the brunettes face. She had zoned out again, staring off in front of them. It was the second time it had happened that day.
“Focus Berry, I don’t want to be seen here talking to you for any longer than I have too.”
“Oh.” The singer shook her head, looking a little flush. “Sorry Santana, I, uh, have a lot on my mind, you know with Finn and I dating and all. Also, we really must make sure-”
“Whatever, Berry, just text me when you find out Schue has taken his head out of his ass and posted the meeting time for Glee.”
After the production of Rocky Horror:
“Rachel.” Finn ran over, still in his ridiculous tighty-whities. “Come on, we’re all going to Breadsticks, in costume. Or, well I’m changing back into my pants and shirt but yeah… what are you staring at?” He looked over and his eyes met with Santana, who had an annoyed look on her face and appeared to be glaring at his girlfriend.
“Oh, n-nothing Finn,” She stuttered. “Let’s go we can get a table before the rest of the club can get there.”
“You sure your ok?” Finn trailed after her. “Your face is all red, kinda like when coach makes us run wind sprints.”
The day before winter break:
“Rachel’s staring at you again.” Brittany absently, twirling her ponytail around her index finger.
“What the hell is her problem!” Santana growled, glaring across the Choir room at the diva, who was indeed staring at her. Specifically at her chest. Again.
It took Santana a while to figure out what the tiny singer had been staring at, but one random comment from Brittany had drawn her attention to the fact that every time Berry zoned out, her eyes were fixed, distinctly, on her tits.
Add to that that she was in a distinctly bad mood, as she still hadn’t wormed her way back to the top of the Pyramid. Plus, she was frustrated. Brittany had forsaken her for Quinn and Puckerman was with this extremely possessive new girl. Which normally wouldn’t have mattered but apparently she actually put out on a regular basis so Puck was whipped.
No, it was not a good month for Santana Lopez. So naturally she was pissed and so not in the mood for Berry to obviously be thinking up one of her long lectures on body image.
“I think she’s jealous of your boob job, maybe you should give her your doctor’s name so…” Before the blonde could finish the sentence, the angry Latina was stalking across the room, aimed directly at the diva. Who only noticed she was headed in her direction when her eyes followed the Latina, fixated where they had been since the beginning of the school year.
“What the-Santana!?” The taller girl had gripped Rachel by the forearm and was physically dragging her out of the room, ignoring the shocked exclamation from Finn, whom she had been talking to. Or rather, Finn had been talking to her while she fixated on the Latina’s chest.
Santana ignored the girl’s protests until they reached the first floor girl’s bathroom where she proceeded to drag the diva into the largest of the stalls and slamming the lock shut.
“Really, Santana, I must insist you tell me what is going on.” The brunette ranted, turning around. “What is the meaning of this, dragging me into a bathroom and…” Santana whipped her Cheerio’s top over her head as the diva turned to face her, rant dying on her lips as she took in the sight before her. The Latina was clad in a pink bra, her breasts pushed up in an impressive show of cleavage.
“Alright, Berry.” Santana spat, waving her arms out to her sides. “Come on, have a good look. You’ve been fucking staring since the first day of school. See anything you like, Man-hands? Or are you just jealous?”
The diva was, for once, silent. Santana, in the middle of her rant, didn’t notice the singer’s eyes darken and her demeanor take on a more determined air.
“What’s the deal. Got nothing to say now, RuPaul? You usually refuse to shut up. I’m not some freak show for you to stare at every time I get near you.” Santana became aware that, at some point in her rant, she had also whipped off her bra.
Oh well, so Berry gets a full show.
She was about to cross her arms over her chest, in her patented Head Bitch stance, when she heard the shorter girl let out a little breath and take a step forward. She was caught off guard when, before she knew what was happening, the Jewish girl had taken another step forward and raised her hand to the Latina’s breast, slowly running her thumb over a dark nipple. Rachel smirked as she witnessed the puckered skin harden even more.
“Fuck!” The Latina hissed, head falling back against the wall. “What the hell, Berry?” Normally she would have been shocked, possibly offended, that the girl whom she was supposed to be tormenting had just taken the initiative to grope her breasts, but the feeling of the distinctly non-manlike hand touching her had gone straight to her groin and she was reminded that she hadn’t been touched by anyone but herself for over a month.
That’s just what Rachel was doing in fact. When the smaller girl saw the effect she had on the Latina, she moved closer and brought both of her hands up to cup both of Santana’s breasts. Once more she flicked her thumbs over the other girl’s nipples, and Santana was forced to grip onto the hand-rails she was thankfully pressed against in order to remain standing.
Fuck. I thought they were supposed to be less sensitive after the surgery.
“I’ve wanted to do this since you came back this summer.” Rachel breathed, squeezing lightly and repeating the flicking motion again. This time she didn’t stop and Santana found herself panting lightly, each pass over her over sensitized mounds shooting straight to her core.
She looked at the diva, meeting dark eyes and before she had the chance to ask what in the hell had gotten into the supposedly straight singer, said diva had leaned down and captured one of Santana’s tits with her mouth, sucking and swirling her tongue around the hardened tip.
Without breaking eye contact.
Jesus. Oh god, this shouldn’t be this good! It’s Berry for god sakes!
Rachel broke away with a nearly audible pop, and blew on peak. The taller girl became aware, as the singer moved for her other breast, that one of her hands had found its way into the diva’s hair. So much for stopping this before it got too complicated.
“You have the most amazing tits, Santana. Even before the surgery.” Santana panted as the diva took the other breast in her mouth for a moment, only to suck roughly and let go. Her hands, meanwhile, had not stopped their kneading. Rachel buried her face in the valley between the mounds, nipping lightly and leaving an angry red mark. Santana’s hips canted up and she let out, what she considered, a nearly pathetic moan. Her pussy was throbbing from the incessant pattern Rachel had taken with her chest.
Squeeze, flick, bite. Repeat.
Who would have thought the little Smurf would be good at this?
To top that off, the Latina didn’t even want to think about what it meant that she had to withhold a whimper of pleasure when the diva said the word ‘tits’. What was it about naughty school girls talking dirty that got her off? There had to be something wrong with her, this was Rachel Berry for god’s sake.
Squeeze, flick.
“You didn’t need it, really, but ever since then I haven’t been able to stop staring.”
Bite.
Groan.
“Picturing doing this to you.”
Squeeze, flick, bite.
“Imagining you making these sounds.”
Squeeze, flick.
Santana canted her hips up, again when the brunette bit down. The pattern was becoming unbearable. Each motion went straight to her dripping, now painful, core. She could feel her clit, so engorged it was pressed up against her underwear and spanks, throbbing. She needed to be touched, and the unsettling feeling that just a one-off in the school bathroom wasn’t going to do it for her this time was not helping the situation.
“Fuck, Berry.” She groaned as thrust her pelvis at the singer, trying to get some relief. She groaned once again when Rachel let go of her left breast, replacing her hand with her mouth once more. Then she felt her knees nearly buckle when the diva’s free hand slipped over Santana’s mound, and the it was the diva’s turn to groan when she felt that the girl had soaked straight through her cheerleading uniform.
The Latina whimpered when the singer took her hand away without much attention to her need, just simply running her fingers over the material and, quite deliberately she was sure, avoiding her clit. She gripped tighter to the hand rail, letting go of the diva’s hair as she nipped and kissed her way up the taller girl’s neck to just under her ear.
“You know what I want to do to you right now?” Rachel growled in her ear, and Santana decided then and there that she didn’t give a fuck, if this was the way Berry got when she was horny she’d deal with the annoying bitch fits all day, any day.
“God, I hope so.” The Latina fired back. Rachel chuckled as she slipped her fingers past the barriers, Santana panting and groaning as Rachel slipped two fingers inside her.
“Oh god!” She groaned, bucking her hips to try to get Rachel to thumb her clit. She could still feel it throbbing and she growled. “Come on Berry, you know where I want you!”
“We’ll get to that eventually.” Rachel groaned into her ear. “God, you’re soaked, and so tight.” The diva groaned and thrust her hips on Santana’s bare thigh. She could feel how wet the diva was. Also something that was not helping the situation. “How long has it been since you had someone inside you? Do you know what that’s doing to me?”
“Oh, fuck. To fucking long.” She panted, as the singer thrust slowly, still avoiding the other girl’s need. “Come on, Rach, please. I can feel my clit twitching.”
“Not yet.” Santana groaned as the short girl pulled, bringing her fingers up to suck the juices off of them. “I fucking want to feel you first. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Your tits pressed against mine. You moaning so loud you wake the dogs next door.” The brunette lunged in then, turning her head and pressing her lips to the Latina’s, and fuck if it didn’t feel even better than kissing Brittany. The girl definitely knew what she was doing. Rachel reached her hand back down, finally touching where Santana needed her. She felt her knees buckle as Rachel circled her in quick, tight circles. Santana whimpered as her pussy clenched on nothing, the singer bracing her as she shook and moaned into the kiss, trying to keep quiet and not call the whole school into the restroom.
When she could stand on her own again, the diva broke away and backed up quickly, pressing herself against the stall door.
“Do you want me, Santana.”
Fuck it.
“Yes.” She panted.
“If you think this was good, you have no idea.” She turned and winked. “My room is sound proofed, and my dad’s will not arrive home until very late. If you think you can wait out the rest of the day, that is.”
Santana groaned, wondering, if she explained that the girl was an amazing fuck, if she’d be able to save her reputation. Because there was nothing that could keep her away from Rachel Berry’s house after that encounter.
Author: Helion
Chapters: Don't know yet. May be a one shot, may continue it.
Pairing: Rachel/Santana, illusions to Brittany/Santana (past)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Prompt Fill for Glee Kink Meme: Rachel has a fascination with Santana's breasts. Santana has had enough of the staring and pulls Rachel into an empty room/bathroom stall/car/corner/whatever and takes her shirt off. Rachel touches without asking. Santana likes it. Sex ensues.
Warnings: Language, Smutty-sexytimes.
Spoilers: Up through Rocky Horror I think.
Disclaimer: If they were mine, we wouldn't NEED fanfiction. Also, Glee would prolly be on Showtime, because the places that my brain takes them are not FCC compatible.
A/N: I know, I know. I suck for not posting in so long. I also suck for not posting on Satan and the School Girl. I'm still working on it, I swear. I'm just blocked on EVERYTHING. Even this I wrote like two months ago. School killed me and now that I'm on break (and the hollidays are over) I'mworking on writing again. I almost have another chapter of SATSG finished, hopefully I'll have it up soon! Hopefully this makes up for it a bit...
First day of School:
Santana snapped her fingers in front of the brunettes face. She had zoned out again, staring off in front of them. It was the second time it had happened that day.
“Focus Berry, I don’t want to be seen here talking to you for any longer than I have too.”
“Oh.” The singer shook her head, looking a little flush. “Sorry Santana, I, uh, have a lot on my mind, you know with Finn and I dating and all. Also, we really must make sure-”
“Whatever, Berry, just text me when you find out Schue has taken his head out of his ass and posted the meeting time for Glee.”
After the production of Rocky Horror:
“Rachel.” Finn ran over, still in his ridiculous tighty-whities. “Come on, we’re all going to Breadsticks, in costume. Or, well I’m changing back into my pants and shirt but yeah… what are you staring at?” He looked over and his eyes met with Santana, who had an annoyed look on her face and appeared to be glaring at his girlfriend.
“Oh, n-nothing Finn,” She stuttered. “Let’s go we can get a table before the rest of the club can get there.”
“You sure your ok?” Finn trailed after her. “Your face is all red, kinda like when coach makes us run wind sprints.”
The day before winter break:
“Rachel’s staring at you again.” Brittany absently, twirling her ponytail around her index finger.
“What the hell is her problem!” Santana growled, glaring across the Choir room at the diva, who was indeed staring at her. Specifically at her chest. Again.
It took Santana a while to figure out what the tiny singer had been staring at, but one random comment from Brittany had drawn her attention to the fact that every time Berry zoned out, her eyes were fixed, distinctly, on her tits.
Add to that that she was in a distinctly bad mood, as she still hadn’t wormed her way back to the top of the Pyramid. Plus, she was frustrated. Brittany had forsaken her for Quinn and Puckerman was with this extremely possessive new girl. Which normally wouldn’t have mattered but apparently she actually put out on a regular basis so Puck was whipped.
No, it was not a good month for Santana Lopez. So naturally she was pissed and so not in the mood for Berry to obviously be thinking up one of her long lectures on body image.
“I think she’s jealous of your boob job, maybe you should give her your doctor’s name so…” Before the blonde could finish the sentence, the angry Latina was stalking across the room, aimed directly at the diva. Who only noticed she was headed in her direction when her eyes followed the Latina, fixated where they had been since the beginning of the school year.
“What the-Santana!?” The taller girl had gripped Rachel by the forearm and was physically dragging her out of the room, ignoring the shocked exclamation from Finn, whom she had been talking to. Or rather, Finn had been talking to her while she fixated on the Latina’s chest.
Santana ignored the girl’s protests until they reached the first floor girl’s bathroom where she proceeded to drag the diva into the largest of the stalls and slamming the lock shut.
“Really, Santana, I must insist you tell me what is going on.” The brunette ranted, turning around. “What is the meaning of this, dragging me into a bathroom and…” Santana whipped her Cheerio’s top over her head as the diva turned to face her, rant dying on her lips as she took in the sight before her. The Latina was clad in a pink bra, her breasts pushed up in an impressive show of cleavage.
“Alright, Berry.” Santana spat, waving her arms out to her sides. “Come on, have a good look. You’ve been fucking staring since the first day of school. See anything you like, Man-hands? Or are you just jealous?”
The diva was, for once, silent. Santana, in the middle of her rant, didn’t notice the singer’s eyes darken and her demeanor take on a more determined air.
“What’s the deal. Got nothing to say now, RuPaul? You usually refuse to shut up. I’m not some freak show for you to stare at every time I get near you.” Santana became aware that, at some point in her rant, she had also whipped off her bra.
Oh well, so Berry gets a full show.
She was about to cross her arms over her chest, in her patented Head Bitch stance, when she heard the shorter girl let out a little breath and take a step forward. She was caught off guard when, before she knew what was happening, the Jewish girl had taken another step forward and raised her hand to the Latina’s breast, slowly running her thumb over a dark nipple. Rachel smirked as she witnessed the puckered skin harden even more.
“Fuck!” The Latina hissed, head falling back against the wall. “What the hell, Berry?” Normally she would have been shocked, possibly offended, that the girl whom she was supposed to be tormenting had just taken the initiative to grope her breasts, but the feeling of the distinctly non-manlike hand touching her had gone straight to her groin and she was reminded that she hadn’t been touched by anyone but herself for over a month.
That’s just what Rachel was doing in fact. When the smaller girl saw the effect she had on the Latina, she moved closer and brought both of her hands up to cup both of Santana’s breasts. Once more she flicked her thumbs over the other girl’s nipples, and Santana was forced to grip onto the hand-rails she was thankfully pressed against in order to remain standing.
Fuck. I thought they were supposed to be less sensitive after the surgery.
“I’ve wanted to do this since you came back this summer.” Rachel breathed, squeezing lightly and repeating the flicking motion again. This time she didn’t stop and Santana found herself panting lightly, each pass over her over sensitized mounds shooting straight to her core.
She looked at the diva, meeting dark eyes and before she had the chance to ask what in the hell had gotten into the supposedly straight singer, said diva had leaned down and captured one of Santana’s tits with her mouth, sucking and swirling her tongue around the hardened tip.
Without breaking eye contact.
Jesus. Oh god, this shouldn’t be this good! It’s Berry for god sakes!
Rachel broke away with a nearly audible pop, and blew on peak. The taller girl became aware, as the singer moved for her other breast, that one of her hands had found its way into the diva’s hair. So much for stopping this before it got too complicated.
“You have the most amazing tits, Santana. Even before the surgery.” Santana panted as the diva took the other breast in her mouth for a moment, only to suck roughly and let go. Her hands, meanwhile, had not stopped their kneading. Rachel buried her face in the valley between the mounds, nipping lightly and leaving an angry red mark. Santana’s hips canted up and she let out, what she considered, a nearly pathetic moan. Her pussy was throbbing from the incessant pattern Rachel had taken with her chest.
Squeeze, flick, bite. Repeat.
Who would have thought the little Smurf would be good at this?
To top that off, the Latina didn’t even want to think about what it meant that she had to withhold a whimper of pleasure when the diva said the word ‘tits’. What was it about naughty school girls talking dirty that got her off? There had to be something wrong with her, this was Rachel Berry for god’s sake.
Squeeze, flick.
“You didn’t need it, really, but ever since then I haven’t been able to stop staring.”
Bite.
Groan.
“Picturing doing this to you.”
Squeeze, flick, bite.
“Imagining you making these sounds.”
Squeeze, flick.
Santana canted her hips up, again when the brunette bit down. The pattern was becoming unbearable. Each motion went straight to her dripping, now painful, core. She could feel her clit, so engorged it was pressed up against her underwear and spanks, throbbing. She needed to be touched, and the unsettling feeling that just a one-off in the school bathroom wasn’t going to do it for her this time was not helping the situation.
“Fuck, Berry.” She groaned as thrust her pelvis at the singer, trying to get some relief. She groaned once again when Rachel let go of her left breast, replacing her hand with her mouth once more. Then she felt her knees nearly buckle when the diva’s free hand slipped over Santana’s mound, and the it was the diva’s turn to groan when she felt that the girl had soaked straight through her cheerleading uniform.
The Latina whimpered when the singer took her hand away without much attention to her need, just simply running her fingers over the material and, quite deliberately she was sure, avoiding her clit. She gripped tighter to the hand rail, letting go of the diva’s hair as she nipped and kissed her way up the taller girl’s neck to just under her ear.
“You know what I want to do to you right now?” Rachel growled in her ear, and Santana decided then and there that she didn’t give a fuck, if this was the way Berry got when she was horny she’d deal with the annoying bitch fits all day, any day.
“God, I hope so.” The Latina fired back. Rachel chuckled as she slipped her fingers past the barriers, Santana panting and groaning as Rachel slipped two fingers inside her.
“Oh god!” She groaned, bucking her hips to try to get Rachel to thumb her clit. She could still feel it throbbing and she growled. “Come on Berry, you know where I want you!”
“We’ll get to that eventually.” Rachel groaned into her ear. “God, you’re soaked, and so tight.” The diva groaned and thrust her hips on Santana’s bare thigh. She could feel how wet the diva was. Also something that was not helping the situation. “How long has it been since you had someone inside you? Do you know what that’s doing to me?”
“Oh, fuck. To fucking long.” She panted, as the singer thrust slowly, still avoiding the other girl’s need. “Come on, Rach, please. I can feel my clit twitching.”
“Not yet.” Santana groaned as the short girl pulled, bringing her fingers up to suck the juices off of them. “I fucking want to feel you first. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Your tits pressed against mine. You moaning so loud you wake the dogs next door.” The brunette lunged in then, turning her head and pressing her lips to the Latina’s, and fuck if it didn’t feel even better than kissing Brittany. The girl definitely knew what she was doing. Rachel reached her hand back down, finally touching where Santana needed her. She felt her knees buckle as Rachel circled her in quick, tight circles. Santana whimpered as her pussy clenched on nothing, the singer bracing her as she shook and moaned into the kiss, trying to keep quiet and not call the whole school into the restroom.
When she could stand on her own again, the diva broke away and backed up quickly, pressing herself against the stall door.
“Do you want me, Santana.”
Fuck it.
“Yes.” She panted.
“If you think this was good, you have no idea.” She turned and winked. “My room is sound proofed, and my dad’s will not arrive home until very late. If you think you can wait out the rest of the day, that is.”
Santana groaned, wondering, if she explained that the girl was an amazing fuck, if she’d be able to save her reputation. Because there was nothing that could keep her away from Rachel Berry’s house after that encounter.