this modern love [4/?]
Title: this modern love
Pairing: Finn/Santana
Rating: R
Word Count: 4,027
As it happens, dating Finn Hudson isn’t half bad.
He takes her to fun places and pays for shit (she does, too, sometimes). Then, they have super hot sex whenever possible.
It’s a perfect setup, really, and she doesn’t see why they’d ever want to change things.
… … …
He tips the perfectly balanced scales of their…situation one night.
She’s on her knees, completely naked in his living room and giving him, if she’s being completely honest, the blowjob to end all blowjobs, when that fucker opens his mouth and says, “God, you’re the best girlfriend.”
Surprise hits her like a bucket of cold water and she pulls off with a pop and glares up at him. “God, Finn. Don’t say shit like that to me while your dick’s in my mouth. You could get maimed.” His eyes are clouded over and he looks confused. She doesn’t find it adorable like she usually does.
“What?” he asks seriously, raking a hand through his hair. “Are you really freaking out because I called you my girlfriend?”
If she was more dramatic like Rachel, she’d probably be up and pacing the living room while she freaks out. She’s glad that’s not her style. They’re no longer touching, but his dick is still hard and only inches from her face. She won’t give him the satisfaction of actually freaking out openly. “I’m not freaking out. I just don’t want to label this whatever between us. There’s no need. Besides, I don’t want to be anyone’s girlfriend.”
“We spend all our free time together and neither of us is sleeping with other people. That’s a relationship, Santana.”
Her eyes narrow dangerously and she huffs out a breath. “We’re whatever I say we are, Finn, and I’m not your goddamn girlfriend. Now, your dick isn’t gonna suck itself, so are we good so I can finish, or should I just leave?”
He looks a little surprised, but he lets out this half laugh and tells her he doesn’t want her to leave. And the way he says it, the way he smiles down at her tells her the blowjob probably has very little to do with that.
… … …
She fucks up and tips the scales even more in his favor later that same night like some kind of brain dead moron.
She calls him baby for fuck’s sake.
It’s his fault though. Honestly. She doesn’t think she can be blamed when he’s on top of her and in her and making her feel so good, pressing just where she craves him, hitching her leg high up on his hip and sliding a big, broad hand along the back of her thigh to grab her ass, kissing the hinge of her jaw and murmuring things against her skin that makes her blood pulse. The word sort of just slips past her lips in a reverent whisper as she threads her fingers through the hair on the back of his head.
The bitch of it all is that he lifts his head a second after she says and grins at her like the goddamn cat that swallowed a cream-covered canary. She hates losing the upper hand.
Smug bastard.
He yelps when she pinches his side, then chuckles when she tells him to quit gawking and rail her already.
At least he’s good at following orders.
… … …
“You two are really sweet together,” Rachel tells her on their way to yoga one afternoon.
Santana rolls her eyes. She’s been anticipating this conversation ever since Rachel and Puck walked in on them messing around on the living room floor the other day.
And they were legit playing - fully clothed - okay? It was barely even PG. Look, she doesn’t usually dig on cuddling or tickling or any such nonsense, and it’s not like she suggested it, it just sort of happened.
They were playing Madden and he was winning, so she tried to steal his controller and somehow they ended up in this wrestling match, which should be wholly uneven because he’s the size of Paul Bunyan and she’s…not. Mostly he was tickling the hell out of her and she tried to land punches anywhere she could in between laughing her ass off.
Santana shrugs and doesn’t comment either way as she heads for their usual spot in the room to set up her mat. Her silence doesn’t deter Rachel though.
“What are you two doing for Valentine’s Day?” Rachel asks cheerfully, sitting beside her on the floor.
She pulls a disgusted face and makes gagging sounds. “Uh, nothing because that holiday is for stupid saps like you who buy into the mass-marketed bullshit. And Puck’s only into it because he knows you’ll cut his dick off if he doesn’t buy you presents and act like he gives a rat’s ass about hearts and Cupid. That, and he’s guaranteed to get laid after ripping red lingerie off your body or something.” Rachel just rolls her eyes and brushes her bangs to the side. She’s hardly fazed by the things that come out of her mouth after so many years as friends.
“I bet Finn gets you something though,” Rachel tells her.
“Pfft. He knows better,” Santana returns, making Rachel giggle.
“Does he really? This is Finn Hudson we’re talking about. He didn’t even know which side of the body the heart was located.”
The look of incredulity on her friend’s face makes Santana snort. “Yeah, yeah, we all know he was dumb as fuck in high school. He used to copy Brittany’s homework for Christ’s sake. He’s smarter than that now.” Rachel’s knowing smirk annoys her and she’s thankful that the class is starting so they can stop talking about all this.
Still, she spends the better part of the class thinking Finn would be a huge fucking idiot to try and celebrate Valentine’s Day with her. She doesn’t want to have to end what they have because she likes it so much. Finn being a V-Day supporter though? A definite deal breaker.
… … …
The second she walks into her apartment after shopping all day, she wants to walk right back out again. It looks like motherfucking Cupid threw up and sprayed Pepto Bismol everywhere. Laughing, she walks through to her room and throws her bags down on the bed.
“Oh, you’re home!” Rachel greets cheerfully from the door. “What do you think?” She’s practically vibrating with excitement and Santana can’t help but squelch some of the bitchier comments.
“Honestly, I think Puck is going to want to punch himself in the junk when he sees all this, but I know you’ll find ways to make this bullshit holiday fun for him.”
“It might be a little overkill, I will admit, but I love Valentine’s Day.”
“I know you do, B,” Santana smiles. “I’ll be out of your hair soon. I want no part of anything that’s about to take place up in this apartment tonight.”
Rachel’s face breaks into a slow grin. “Going to Finn’s?” she singsongs.
Santana’s eyes narrow. “Knock it off with that tone, Rach, damn. Yes, Hudson and I are going to hang and probably fuck a lot. Anything else you’d like to know?”
She walks over towards the bed and looks directly at the shopping bags. “What’d you buy?”
“Stuff. Why so damn nosy today?” Santana bites back.
“You always show me what you buy. Oh my God!” she nearly shouts, holding up a Victoria’s Secret bag. “You bought lingerie. On Valentine’s Day.”
“Big deal!” Santana shrugs, snatching the bag out of Rachel’s hands before she can look inside. “I wear lingerie for him all the time.”
“You’re starting to buy into Valentine’s Day,” Rachel says smugly.
Santana scoffs and shoves Rachel’s shoulder. “Take that back, bitch! I mean it.”
Rachel grins slowly and holds her hand up to her ear. “Oh, I think I hear the oven. I don’t want dinner to burn. Have fun tonight,” she says and breezes from the room before Santana can get another word in.
“I hate you!” she yells after Rachel’s retreating back.
… … …
She shows up to his place in baggy sweatpants and his OSU football sweatshirt. Her hair’s in a sloppy ponytail and she’s not wearing much makeup. The completely horrified look on Rachel’s face when she left the apartment was totally worth it, though, as was the disgusted and frightened look on Puck’s face when he walked into the pink house of horrors.
“Hey,” Finn greets, pulling her into the apartment and out of the cold the way he usually does. She’d never admit it to him, but she likes that he does all these little things and how he always seems so happy to see her.
“Hi,” she smiles, giving him the onceover. He’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and faded blue jeans. And his hair is kind of a mess and he could use a shave. Truth be told, she doesn’t think he’s ever looked better. “You look fucking good like this, Hudson.” Her fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt and she pulls him down for a kiss.
“Are you actually complimenting me,” he asks, blinking down at her amusedly.
“What? I compliment you.” And she does. Sometimes.
“Usually after I’ve gotten you off, never on my looks. This is new.” He grins and she rolls her eyes and punches him in the stomach. “So that’s where my sweatshirt went. You’re a thief,” he smirks when she takes off her coat and tosses it over the banister.
“Shut up and beer me; what kind of host are you?” is her response.
Finn pulls her ponytail playfully and heads for the kitchen. She follows after him and sits on a barstool, telling him all about the pink nightmare in her apartment and how Puck looked like he wanted to kill himself when he saw it. They laugh about it and Santana toasts him with her Miller Lite for not being that fucking lame.
“I did get you something though,” he says over the top of his beer bottle.
“Fuck. Why?” she asks sourly, feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand up. He’s going to mess everything up right now, she just knows it.
“Because I felt like it. Would you relax?” he asks with a lopsided smile on his face. He pushes a white bakery box from Pattycake Bakery in front of her. “I know you like this place,” he says quietly.
She does love it. They have the best sugar cookies on the entire planet. Still, she eyes the box skeptically before lifting her gaze to his. “I swear to God, Finn, if this full of pink hearts or something you’re getting punched in the throat.”
He takes a step back and she’s actually pissed. Getting her a gift on Valentine’s Day it’s, well, it’s like he doesn’t even fucking know her at all. She grabs the box and lifts the lid, willing whatever’s inside not to make her vomit at first sight. There are at least two dozen cookies inside and while they are all heart-shaped, they have black icing on them.
“For your little black heart,” he says, leaning on the counter and looking cuter than he’s possibly ever looked.
Santana can’t stop the smile as she stares at the rows of black, perfectly iced cookies. “This is hilarious, Finn. I guess maybe you do know me.” Laughing, she leans over the counter and presses her lips fully to his. “You’re a good boyfriend,” she murmurs against his lips, then freezes completely the second the words leave her mouth.
Fuck. Her. Life.
He looks way too pleased about this slip when he pulls back so he can see her clearly. “Did you just call me-”
“Fuck you, no!” she exclaims, knocking his hand away when he tries to brush it over her cheek. She’ll deny it ‘til she’s blue in the face if need be.
“You did!” he laughs.
“Finn,” she warns, gritting her teeth.
“’S okay if you did. I like it, actually.”
“Just shut up,” she barks, plucking a cookie from the box. She takes a bite and it’s basically a little piece of heaven in her mouth. Licking the frosting from her thumb, she moans appreciatively. “Here’s the deal, Hudson. I’m going to eat these while you eat me and then we’re going to fuck and forget all about whatever I definitely didn’t say, yeah?”
She could really do without his smug smile, but he nods and says, “Okay, San. Whatever you want.” That air of condescension in his voice can take a damn hike, too. Grabbing the box of cookies, she stands up and turns for the stairs. He rounds the counter though, grabs her arm and stops her. “It’s what any good boyfriend would do on Valentine’s Day.” His voice is teasing, but she kind of hates how much he’s enjoying her temporary lapse of judgment.
“Do you want me hurt you?” she asks sharply, glaring heatedly up at him.
There’s a grin tugging on his lips as he shakes his head and slips the elastic band from her hair. “Maybe later,” he murmurs lowly, pushing her backwards and taking the box of out of her hands to set it on the counter. His eyes darken as he combs them over her body and hands follow a similar path, settling low on her hips. “You look sexy in my clothes.”
“I always look sexy,” she reminds him flatly.
He hoists her up on the counter and wraps her legs around his waist. “I know.” His hands fist the material at the bottom of her (his) sweatshirt and pulls it easily off her body. “Fuck,” he grunts, his eyes lighting on the black lace she’s wearing underneath just before he adds his hands to the mix and runs them up her sides, his thumbs brushing just under her boobs. “Babe, that’s really hot.”
She should hate that he calls her that, but her insides always stir when he does and she can’t make herself tell him to stop, especially not when he’s touching her and looking at her the way he is. “Wait ‘til you see the rest,” she purrs, leaning back on her hands.
Her sweats come off with record speed and she swears if she didn’t know how good his control is, she’d think he just came in his pants. She knows she looks hot and she’s glad her…she’s glad Finn agrees. It’d be really great if he’d put his mouth on her already, but his hands are sliding slowly over every inch of her lace-clad body and that doesn’t suck or anything.
Finn gets this strange look on his face that she can’t quite decipher and it gives way to this shit-eating grin. “What?” she barks. He needs to hurry his ass up and get her off already instead of teasing the fuck out of her.
“You bought lingerie to wear for me,” he says simply, his dimples winking.
Santana’s eyes narrow to slits and she can’t believe she’s fucking such a stupid person. “Thanks, Captain Obvious, piece that one together all by yourself?”
“On Valentine’s Day.”
Fuck. “Shut up,” she grumbles. She can’t believe she was stupid enough to buy lingerie on Valentine’s Day. It was so cliché that if she had balls, she’d punch herself in them right this second.
Finn laughs and slips his fingers into her hair, tipping her face up so she has little choice but to look at him. He dips his head and slants his lips over hers, sipping slowly at her mouth. “There’s a little corner of your black heart that bleeds red after all,” he teases against her lips.
She lands a smack to his shoulder and laughs in spite of herself. “Just fuck off and eat me out already.”
… … …
It’s late when she slowly pushes through that in between state of asleep and awake the next day. Finn’s arm is draped over her stomach and her first thought isn’t how much she hates this cuddling business, but rather how nice and warm it feels to wake up with him like this. She rolls her eyes and can’t believe how soft she’s getting by being with him. But, when she shifts a little so she can see his face, he looks so peaceful and sweet while he sleeps that she doesn’t care. Besides, he was anything but peaceful or sweet the night before when he whispered dirty things against her skin and made her back arch and her toes curl repeatedly.
He is a good boyfriend. And fuck you, okay? She can admit it (and he made her admit it again the night before or else he wouldn’t get her off the way she wanted). She just doesn’t need to go around shouting from the rooftops or anything because it’s nobody’s business but theirs. His eyes lazily flicker open and he smiles at her in this sexy way he has and murmurs, “Morning.”
“Hi,” she yawns and stretches her arms over her head. She feels something strange stuck to her skin as she moves. “What the hell?” she rasps, wiping cookie crumbs off her arm. Sitting up, she pulls back the covers and sees that her sheets are covered in crumbs and bits of black frosting. She remembers very well how that all happened and feels her skin flush. “There are crumbs everyfuckingwhere, Finn.”
Finn chuckles and rubs his eye with the heel of his hand. “’S ‘cause I’m a good boyfriend,” he says, laughing harder when she glares at him. She reaches under the covers and pinches his inner thigh and he yelps. “Fuck, San. I’m barely awake.”
“Just because I called you my boyfriend doesn’t mean you have to go around celebrating it and being all liberal with the use.” He just grins lazily again and she thinks he really ought to be grateful that he’s so friggin’ charming and looks so good in this bed right now because, honestly, she’s maimed people for less. “I’m going to shower so I don’t smell like we fucked in a bakery last night.”
“That’d be awesome-doin’ it in a bakery. There’d be all these treats. Brownies and cookies and stuff!” His eyes are twinkling like he’s really considering this and she can’t help but roll her eyes and laugh at how dumb he is sometimes.
“I can’t believe I ended up with such a man-child for my boyfriend,” she groans, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. He hooks an arm around her waist and pulls her back, tickling her side until she’s laughing so hard there are tears in her eyes.
Her phone rings on the bedside table and she’s content to just ignore it, but Finn lets go of her and grabs it, smirks when he sees the name on the display and answers, “Santana’s phone, Santana’s boyfriend speaking.” He slants an impish look in her direction that she’d really like to slap off his face, because, seriously, fuck him for spreading that shit around. Her mood sours when she hears Rachel shrieking excitedly on the other end.
“Thanks a fucking lot, asshole,” she whispers murderously when he smiles and hands her the phone. He at least has the decency to look like he’s a little bit afraid of what she might do to him. “What?” she barks at her friend. Rachel giggles back and tells her, “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it.” Santana rolls her eyes again (it’s too early for this bullshit) and plops down on her stomach at the other end of the bed for what she’s sure will be a long conversation. “Congratulations. You want a cookie?” Finn snorts behind her and she kicks him as hard as she can.
She and Rachel talk for a few minutes, but Santana doesn’t really feel like flapping her gums about her own life or relationship, especially with Finn sitting right behind her and tracing lines up the back of her leg with his finger. Instead she grills Rachel about her Valentine’s Day, and asks whether Puck was still alive and kickin’ or if he’d smothered himself during the night with the pink sheets she put on her bed.
Rachel pouts (even if she can’t see her, she knows her friend) and tells her in no uncertain terms that she and Noah had a lovely evening and that he even wrote her a song. “Hold the fucking phone, Rach,” Santana says laughingly. “Are you seriously telling me that Puck wrote a song - for you - on Valentine’s Day? Jesus! Did he chop his balls off and put ‘em in a box, too?” Finn’s laughing his ass off, too, and Santana feels totally smug knowing that her boyfriend isn’t super lame. She’s also glad that she now has this ammunition to use against Puck for years to come.
“Stop laughing at me, Santana!” Rachel snaps. “Why…what’d Finn get you?” she asks quietly.
Santana glances over her shoulder at Finn and smiles. “Cookies and orgasms. I win.”
Rachel then prattles on and on about how great it is that they’re finally a real couple and how they can go on double dates and stuff. This shit right here? Exactly why she didn’t want to tell Rachel right away. Santana mimes putting a gun to her head and pulling the trigger; Finn smiles back sympathetically and she digs him for that.
She tries to interject and get a word in edgewise, but Rachel’s barreling on like Rachel does when she’s really excited. The bed shifts a little and she feels Finn’s lips skating slowly up her spine, making her eyebrow arch in pleasant surprise. “You taste like cookies,” he murmurs darkly into her ear and she fights the shiver that shoots through her body. He keeps kissing her skin and humming against it because he knows that drives her completely crazy; all the while Rachel’s saying something into her other ear she no longer cares about.
Part of her knows she should just hang up the phone right now so he can get on with making her feel really good, but another part of her wants to see just how far Finn’ll go with this while she’s talking to her best friend. The naughty part wins and she has to bite her lip to keep from moaning into the phone when Finn’s hand slides down off her ass and slips between her thighs instead. She doesn’t bother looking over and acknowledging him. She just opens her legs a little further to let him know she’s definitely picking up what he’s putting down.
Rachel’s talking about some new restaurant she wants to go to and suggests that it would be a perfect opportunity for the four of them to go out together when Finn rubs his cock along her slit and pushes into her body. It’s all she can do not to give them away and she has to cover her mouth with her hand. She hears Finn chuckle quietly and she can’t even be mad at him. She’s just so proud that he has the balls to do this in the first place. “Rach, I have to go,” she manages, clamping her mouth shut again when he thrusts deeply and tangles his hand in her hair. Her statement doesn’t deter Rachel. In fact, the girl just keeps on going. So does Finn, for that matter, and she’s super close to making some serious sex noises. She probably just should. Rachel would definitely hang up then.
“Are you okay?” Rachel asks. “You sound strange.”
Santana has to laugh a little at that. “Never better. But look, Finn just slipped his dick in me and I need to hang up so he can fuck me the way I want.” Rachel gasps dramatically and the line goes dead. She throws her phone on the floor, arches back against her boyfriend, and lets out the moan she’s been holding in. “You’re kinda dirty, Finn,” she pants. “I’m so proud.”
Pairing: Finn/Santana
Rating: R
Word Count: 4,027
As it happens, dating Finn Hudson isn’t half bad.
He takes her to fun places and pays for shit (she does, too, sometimes). Then, they have super hot sex whenever possible.
It’s a perfect setup, really, and she doesn’t see why they’d ever want to change things.
… … …
He tips the perfectly balanced scales of their…situation one night.
She’s on her knees, completely naked in his living room and giving him, if she’s being completely honest, the blowjob to end all blowjobs, when that fucker opens his mouth and says, “God, you’re the best girlfriend.”
Surprise hits her like a bucket of cold water and she pulls off with a pop and glares up at him. “God, Finn. Don’t say shit like that to me while your dick’s in my mouth. You could get maimed.” His eyes are clouded over and he looks confused. She doesn’t find it adorable like she usually does.
“What?” he asks seriously, raking a hand through his hair. “Are you really freaking out because I called you my girlfriend?”
If she was more dramatic like Rachel, she’d probably be up and pacing the living room while she freaks out. She’s glad that’s not her style. They’re no longer touching, but his dick is still hard and only inches from her face. She won’t give him the satisfaction of actually freaking out openly. “I’m not freaking out. I just don’t want to label this whatever between us. There’s no need. Besides, I don’t want to be anyone’s girlfriend.”
“We spend all our free time together and neither of us is sleeping with other people. That’s a relationship, Santana.”
Her eyes narrow dangerously and she huffs out a breath. “We’re whatever I say we are, Finn, and I’m not your goddamn girlfriend. Now, your dick isn’t gonna suck itself, so are we good so I can finish, or should I just leave?”
He looks a little surprised, but he lets out this half laugh and tells her he doesn’t want her to leave. And the way he says it, the way he smiles down at her tells her the blowjob probably has very little to do with that.
… … …
She fucks up and tips the scales even more in his favor later that same night like some kind of brain dead moron.
She calls him baby for fuck’s sake.
It’s his fault though. Honestly. She doesn’t think she can be blamed when he’s on top of her and in her and making her feel so good, pressing just where she craves him, hitching her leg high up on his hip and sliding a big, broad hand along the back of her thigh to grab her ass, kissing the hinge of her jaw and murmuring things against her skin that makes her blood pulse. The word sort of just slips past her lips in a reverent whisper as she threads her fingers through the hair on the back of his head.
The bitch of it all is that he lifts his head a second after she says and grins at her like the goddamn cat that swallowed a cream-covered canary. She hates losing the upper hand.
Smug bastard.
He yelps when she pinches his side, then chuckles when she tells him to quit gawking and rail her already.
At least he’s good at following orders.
… … …
“You two are really sweet together,” Rachel tells her on their way to yoga one afternoon.
Santana rolls her eyes. She’s been anticipating this conversation ever since Rachel and Puck walked in on them messing around on the living room floor the other day.
And they were legit playing - fully clothed - okay? It was barely even PG. Look, she doesn’t usually dig on cuddling or tickling or any such nonsense, and it’s not like she suggested it, it just sort of happened.
They were playing Madden and he was winning, so she tried to steal his controller and somehow they ended up in this wrestling match, which should be wholly uneven because he’s the size of Paul Bunyan and she’s…not. Mostly he was tickling the hell out of her and she tried to land punches anywhere she could in between laughing her ass off.
Santana shrugs and doesn’t comment either way as she heads for their usual spot in the room to set up her mat. Her silence doesn’t deter Rachel though.
“What are you two doing for Valentine’s Day?” Rachel asks cheerfully, sitting beside her on the floor.
She pulls a disgusted face and makes gagging sounds. “Uh, nothing because that holiday is for stupid saps like you who buy into the mass-marketed bullshit. And Puck’s only into it because he knows you’ll cut his dick off if he doesn’t buy you presents and act like he gives a rat’s ass about hearts and Cupid. That, and he’s guaranteed to get laid after ripping red lingerie off your body or something.” Rachel just rolls her eyes and brushes her bangs to the side. She’s hardly fazed by the things that come out of her mouth after so many years as friends.
“I bet Finn gets you something though,” Rachel tells her.
“Pfft. He knows better,” Santana returns, making Rachel giggle.
“Does he really? This is Finn Hudson we’re talking about. He didn’t even know which side of the body the heart was located.”
The look of incredulity on her friend’s face makes Santana snort. “Yeah, yeah, we all know he was dumb as fuck in high school. He used to copy Brittany’s homework for Christ’s sake. He’s smarter than that now.” Rachel’s knowing smirk annoys her and she’s thankful that the class is starting so they can stop talking about all this.
Still, she spends the better part of the class thinking Finn would be a huge fucking idiot to try and celebrate Valentine’s Day with her. She doesn’t want to have to end what they have because she likes it so much. Finn being a V-Day supporter though? A definite deal breaker.
… … …
The second she walks into her apartment after shopping all day, she wants to walk right back out again. It looks like motherfucking Cupid threw up and sprayed Pepto Bismol everywhere. Laughing, she walks through to her room and throws her bags down on the bed.
“Oh, you’re home!” Rachel greets cheerfully from the door. “What do you think?” She’s practically vibrating with excitement and Santana can’t help but squelch some of the bitchier comments.
“Honestly, I think Puck is going to want to punch himself in the junk when he sees all this, but I know you’ll find ways to make this bullshit holiday fun for him.”
“It might be a little overkill, I will admit, but I love Valentine’s Day.”
“I know you do, B,” Santana smiles. “I’ll be out of your hair soon. I want no part of anything that’s about to take place up in this apartment tonight.”
Rachel’s face breaks into a slow grin. “Going to Finn’s?” she singsongs.
Santana’s eyes narrow. “Knock it off with that tone, Rach, damn. Yes, Hudson and I are going to hang and probably fuck a lot. Anything else you’d like to know?”
She walks over towards the bed and looks directly at the shopping bags. “What’d you buy?”
“Stuff. Why so damn nosy today?” Santana bites back.
“You always show me what you buy. Oh my God!” she nearly shouts, holding up a Victoria’s Secret bag. “You bought lingerie. On Valentine’s Day.”
“Big deal!” Santana shrugs, snatching the bag out of Rachel’s hands before she can look inside. “I wear lingerie for him all the time.”
“You’re starting to buy into Valentine’s Day,” Rachel says smugly.
Santana scoffs and shoves Rachel’s shoulder. “Take that back, bitch! I mean it.”
Rachel grins slowly and holds her hand up to her ear. “Oh, I think I hear the oven. I don’t want dinner to burn. Have fun tonight,” she says and breezes from the room before Santana can get another word in.
“I hate you!” she yells after Rachel’s retreating back.
… … …
She shows up to his place in baggy sweatpants and his OSU football sweatshirt. Her hair’s in a sloppy ponytail and she’s not wearing much makeup. The completely horrified look on Rachel’s face when she left the apartment was totally worth it, though, as was the disgusted and frightened look on Puck’s face when he walked into the pink house of horrors.
“Hey,” Finn greets, pulling her into the apartment and out of the cold the way he usually does. She’d never admit it to him, but she likes that he does all these little things and how he always seems so happy to see her.
“Hi,” she smiles, giving him the onceover. He’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and faded blue jeans. And his hair is kind of a mess and he could use a shave. Truth be told, she doesn’t think he’s ever looked better. “You look fucking good like this, Hudson.” Her fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt and she pulls him down for a kiss.
“Are you actually complimenting me,” he asks, blinking down at her amusedly.
“What? I compliment you.” And she does. Sometimes.
“Usually after I’ve gotten you off, never on my looks. This is new.” He grins and she rolls her eyes and punches him in the stomach. “So that’s where my sweatshirt went. You’re a thief,” he smirks when she takes off her coat and tosses it over the banister.
“Shut up and beer me; what kind of host are you?” is her response.
Finn pulls her ponytail playfully and heads for the kitchen. She follows after him and sits on a barstool, telling him all about the pink nightmare in her apartment and how Puck looked like he wanted to kill himself when he saw it. They laugh about it and Santana toasts him with her Miller Lite for not being that fucking lame.
“I did get you something though,” he says over the top of his beer bottle.
“Fuck. Why?” she asks sourly, feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand up. He’s going to mess everything up right now, she just knows it.
“Because I felt like it. Would you relax?” he asks with a lopsided smile on his face. He pushes a white bakery box from Pattycake Bakery in front of her. “I know you like this place,” he says quietly.
She does love it. They have the best sugar cookies on the entire planet. Still, she eyes the box skeptically before lifting her gaze to his. “I swear to God, Finn, if this full of pink hearts or something you’re getting punched in the throat.”
He takes a step back and she’s actually pissed. Getting her a gift on Valentine’s Day it’s, well, it’s like he doesn’t even fucking know her at all. She grabs the box and lifts the lid, willing whatever’s inside not to make her vomit at first sight. There are at least two dozen cookies inside and while they are all heart-shaped, they have black icing on them.
“For your little black heart,” he says, leaning on the counter and looking cuter than he’s possibly ever looked.
Santana can’t stop the smile as she stares at the rows of black, perfectly iced cookies. “This is hilarious, Finn. I guess maybe you do know me.” Laughing, she leans over the counter and presses her lips fully to his. “You’re a good boyfriend,” she murmurs against his lips, then freezes completely the second the words leave her mouth.
Fuck. Her. Life.
He looks way too pleased about this slip when he pulls back so he can see her clearly. “Did you just call me-”
“Fuck you, no!” she exclaims, knocking his hand away when he tries to brush it over her cheek. She’ll deny it ‘til she’s blue in the face if need be.
“You did!” he laughs.
“Finn,” she warns, gritting her teeth.
“’S okay if you did. I like it, actually.”
“Just shut up,” she barks, plucking a cookie from the box. She takes a bite and it’s basically a little piece of heaven in her mouth. Licking the frosting from her thumb, she moans appreciatively. “Here’s the deal, Hudson. I’m going to eat these while you eat me and then we’re going to fuck and forget all about whatever I definitely didn’t say, yeah?”
She could really do without his smug smile, but he nods and says, “Okay, San. Whatever you want.” That air of condescension in his voice can take a damn hike, too. Grabbing the box of cookies, she stands up and turns for the stairs. He rounds the counter though, grabs her arm and stops her. “It’s what any good boyfriend would do on Valentine’s Day.” His voice is teasing, but she kind of hates how much he’s enjoying her temporary lapse of judgment.
“Do you want me hurt you?” she asks sharply, glaring heatedly up at him.
There’s a grin tugging on his lips as he shakes his head and slips the elastic band from her hair. “Maybe later,” he murmurs lowly, pushing her backwards and taking the box of out of her hands to set it on the counter. His eyes darken as he combs them over her body and hands follow a similar path, settling low on her hips. “You look sexy in my clothes.”
“I always look sexy,” she reminds him flatly.
He hoists her up on the counter and wraps her legs around his waist. “I know.” His hands fist the material at the bottom of her (his) sweatshirt and pulls it easily off her body. “Fuck,” he grunts, his eyes lighting on the black lace she’s wearing underneath just before he adds his hands to the mix and runs them up her sides, his thumbs brushing just under her boobs. “Babe, that’s really hot.”
She should hate that he calls her that, but her insides always stir when he does and she can’t make herself tell him to stop, especially not when he’s touching her and looking at her the way he is. “Wait ‘til you see the rest,” she purrs, leaning back on her hands.
Her sweats come off with record speed and she swears if she didn’t know how good his control is, she’d think he just came in his pants. She knows she looks hot and she’s glad her…she’s glad Finn agrees. It’d be really great if he’d put his mouth on her already, but his hands are sliding slowly over every inch of her lace-clad body and that doesn’t suck or anything.
Finn gets this strange look on his face that she can’t quite decipher and it gives way to this shit-eating grin. “What?” she barks. He needs to hurry his ass up and get her off already instead of teasing the fuck out of her.
“You bought lingerie to wear for me,” he says simply, his dimples winking.
Santana’s eyes narrow to slits and she can’t believe she’s fucking such a stupid person. “Thanks, Captain Obvious, piece that one together all by yourself?”
“On Valentine’s Day.”
Fuck. “Shut up,” she grumbles. She can’t believe she was stupid enough to buy lingerie on Valentine’s Day. It was so cliché that if she had balls, she’d punch herself in them right this second.
Finn laughs and slips his fingers into her hair, tipping her face up so she has little choice but to look at him. He dips his head and slants his lips over hers, sipping slowly at her mouth. “There’s a little corner of your black heart that bleeds red after all,” he teases against her lips.
She lands a smack to his shoulder and laughs in spite of herself. “Just fuck off and eat me out already.”
… … …
It’s late when she slowly pushes through that in between state of asleep and awake the next day. Finn’s arm is draped over her stomach and her first thought isn’t how much she hates this cuddling business, but rather how nice and warm it feels to wake up with him like this. She rolls her eyes and can’t believe how soft she’s getting by being with him. But, when she shifts a little so she can see his face, he looks so peaceful and sweet while he sleeps that she doesn’t care. Besides, he was anything but peaceful or sweet the night before when he whispered dirty things against her skin and made her back arch and her toes curl repeatedly.
He is a good boyfriend. And fuck you, okay? She can admit it (and he made her admit it again the night before or else he wouldn’t get her off the way she wanted). She just doesn’t need to go around shouting from the rooftops or anything because it’s nobody’s business but theirs. His eyes lazily flicker open and he smiles at her in this sexy way he has and murmurs, “Morning.”
“Hi,” she yawns and stretches her arms over her head. She feels something strange stuck to her skin as she moves. “What the hell?” she rasps, wiping cookie crumbs off her arm. Sitting up, she pulls back the covers and sees that her sheets are covered in crumbs and bits of black frosting. She remembers very well how that all happened and feels her skin flush. “There are crumbs everyfuckingwhere, Finn.”
Finn chuckles and rubs his eye with the heel of his hand. “’S ‘cause I’m a good boyfriend,” he says, laughing harder when she glares at him. She reaches under the covers and pinches his inner thigh and he yelps. “Fuck, San. I’m barely awake.”
“Just because I called you my boyfriend doesn’t mean you have to go around celebrating it and being all liberal with the use.” He just grins lazily again and she thinks he really ought to be grateful that he’s so friggin’ charming and looks so good in this bed right now because, honestly, she’s maimed people for less. “I’m going to shower so I don’t smell like we fucked in a bakery last night.”
“That’d be awesome-doin’ it in a bakery. There’d be all these treats. Brownies and cookies and stuff!” His eyes are twinkling like he’s really considering this and she can’t help but roll her eyes and laugh at how dumb he is sometimes.
“I can’t believe I ended up with such a man-child for my boyfriend,” she groans, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. He hooks an arm around her waist and pulls her back, tickling her side until she’s laughing so hard there are tears in her eyes.
Her phone rings on the bedside table and she’s content to just ignore it, but Finn lets go of her and grabs it, smirks when he sees the name on the display and answers, “Santana’s phone, Santana’s boyfriend speaking.” He slants an impish look in her direction that she’d really like to slap off his face, because, seriously, fuck him for spreading that shit around. Her mood sours when she hears Rachel shrieking excitedly on the other end.
“Thanks a fucking lot, asshole,” she whispers murderously when he smiles and hands her the phone. He at least has the decency to look like he’s a little bit afraid of what she might do to him. “What?” she barks at her friend. Rachel giggles back and tells her, “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it.” Santana rolls her eyes again (it’s too early for this bullshit) and plops down on her stomach at the other end of the bed for what she’s sure will be a long conversation. “Congratulations. You want a cookie?” Finn snorts behind her and she kicks him as hard as she can.
She and Rachel talk for a few minutes, but Santana doesn’t really feel like flapping her gums about her own life or relationship, especially with Finn sitting right behind her and tracing lines up the back of her leg with his finger. Instead she grills Rachel about her Valentine’s Day, and asks whether Puck was still alive and kickin’ or if he’d smothered himself during the night with the pink sheets she put on her bed.
Rachel pouts (even if she can’t see her, she knows her friend) and tells her in no uncertain terms that she and Noah had a lovely evening and that he even wrote her a song. “Hold the fucking phone, Rach,” Santana says laughingly. “Are you seriously telling me that Puck wrote a song - for you - on Valentine’s Day? Jesus! Did he chop his balls off and put ‘em in a box, too?” Finn’s laughing his ass off, too, and Santana feels totally smug knowing that her boyfriend isn’t super lame. She’s also glad that she now has this ammunition to use against Puck for years to come.
“Stop laughing at me, Santana!” Rachel snaps. “Why…what’d Finn get you?” she asks quietly.
Santana glances over her shoulder at Finn and smiles. “Cookies and orgasms. I win.”
Rachel then prattles on and on about how great it is that they’re finally a real couple and how they can go on double dates and stuff. This shit right here? Exactly why she didn’t want to tell Rachel right away. Santana mimes putting a gun to her head and pulling the trigger; Finn smiles back sympathetically and she digs him for that.
She tries to interject and get a word in edgewise, but Rachel’s barreling on like Rachel does when she’s really excited. The bed shifts a little and she feels Finn’s lips skating slowly up her spine, making her eyebrow arch in pleasant surprise. “You taste like cookies,” he murmurs darkly into her ear and she fights the shiver that shoots through her body. He keeps kissing her skin and humming against it because he knows that drives her completely crazy; all the while Rachel’s saying something into her other ear she no longer cares about.
Part of her knows she should just hang up the phone right now so he can get on with making her feel really good, but another part of her wants to see just how far Finn’ll go with this while she’s talking to her best friend. The naughty part wins and she has to bite her lip to keep from moaning into the phone when Finn’s hand slides down off her ass and slips between her thighs instead. She doesn’t bother looking over and acknowledging him. She just opens her legs a little further to let him know she’s definitely picking up what he’s putting down.
Rachel’s talking about some new restaurant she wants to go to and suggests that it would be a perfect opportunity for the four of them to go out together when Finn rubs his cock along her slit and pushes into her body. It’s all she can do not to give them away and she has to cover her mouth with her hand. She hears Finn chuckle quietly and she can’t even be mad at him. She’s just so proud that he has the balls to do this in the first place. “Rach, I have to go,” she manages, clamping her mouth shut again when he thrusts deeply and tangles his hand in her hair. Her statement doesn’t deter Rachel. In fact, the girl just keeps on going. So does Finn, for that matter, and she’s super close to making some serious sex noises. She probably just should. Rachel would definitely hang up then.
“Are you okay?” Rachel asks. “You sound strange.”
Santana has to laugh a little at that. “Never better. But look, Finn just slipped his dick in me and I need to hang up so he can fuck me the way I want.” Rachel gasps dramatically and the line goes dead. She throws her phone on the floor, arches back against her boyfriend, and lets out the moan she’s been holding in. “You’re kinda dirty, Finn,” she pants. “I’m so proud.”