I Know I'm Not Making Sense
Title: I Know I'm Not Making Sense
Author: only_because3/jeytonbrucasnaley
Rating: M
Pairings: Quinn/Santana
Summary: “We fuck, Quinn. You think you’d be able to say it by now considering you’ve sat on my face.”
Author's Note: Random. I don't even know (actually, I had a lot of Quinntana feelings yesterday that sort of spilled into today). This sort of just wrote itself at work today and I'm not sure if I like where I ended this but *shrug* Tryin' to keep things simple. Enjoy!
--
She hates that she refuses to cut her nails. It’s not that it makes things uncomfortable or that it necessarily hurts in a bad way, but her body is left covered in angry red scratches, deep crescent divots, and bruises that fade from deep purple to pink. Whenever she tries to stop her, tell her that if she’s going to keep marking her they have to stop, Santana just laughs. “And have you be able to pretend that I haven’t been fucking you every day for the past month? Not a chance, Fabray.” She digs her short nails into the swell of Quinn’s breasts before dragging them down over painfully hard nipples, only relenting when she reaches hip bones.
Her hips shift impatiently, causing another throaty laugh to be released into her skin, Santana’s lips tracing one mark down her body. “You love what I do to you and you hate that.” A tongue darts out just below her belly button and flicks the slightly raised skin of her only stretch mark.
Pale fingers tangle in black hair, gripping tight at silky strands and pushing down. As cocky as Santana can be, she whispers, “Who knew Quinn Fabray would be so eager to have another girl wrap their lips around her clit,” softly against the soaking heat between her legs. It makes Quinn shiver, her parted legs curling tighter around Santana’s shoulders and she carefully tugs the head between her legs up once she feels that first broad stroke along her slit.
Quinn props herself up on her elbows, looking down at Santana who looks up at her confused and mildly irritated. The moment Quinn’s fingers trail down the side of her face, Santana’s features relax, playfully biting Quinn’s thumb when the blonde wipes away the wetness that’s already there.
Quinn’s not entirely sure what this is that they’re doing and she’s pretty sure Santana doesn’t know either. She says thank you anyway and Santana shakes her head before pressing her lips into Quinn’s palm. “For you being such a bitch, you sure are polite. I’m not sure anyone has thanked me for eating them out before they’ve even cum.” Quinn rolls her eyes as Santana perches her chin low on Quinn’s belly.
“Thank you,” Quinn repeats and she feels a shiver run through her again as her eyes trail Santana as she crawls back up her body. She blinks slowly, fingers no longer tugging but twirling strands gently, and she smiles at the very naked expression on her friend’s face. It’s still weird to see her like this but Quinn’s decided that Santana’s never looked more gorgeous than when they’re alone and naked in her bed.
“You’re not going all mushy on me are you?” She kisses the blonde softly after she says it and it’s Quinn’s turn to laugh.
“’Course not. We just… do this.” She tucks Santana’s hair behind her ear. They don’t do this.
“We fuck, Quinn. You think you’d be able to say it by now considering you’ve sat on my face.” Quinn blushes and Santana smiles this smile that Quinn had only ever seen her give Brittany. She bends her head down and captures Quinn’s lips again, softer and slower than when she first got here.
Santana never crawls back between her legs.
Author: only_because3/jeytonbrucasnaley
Rating: M
Pairings: Quinn/Santana
Summary: “We fuck, Quinn. You think you’d be able to say it by now considering you’ve sat on my face.”
Author's Note: Random. I don't even know (actually, I had a lot of Quinntana feelings yesterday that sort of spilled into today). This sort of just wrote itself at work today and I'm not sure if I like where I ended this but *shrug* Tryin' to keep things simple. Enjoy!
--
She hates that she refuses to cut her nails. It’s not that it makes things uncomfortable or that it necessarily hurts in a bad way, but her body is left covered in angry red scratches, deep crescent divots, and bruises that fade from deep purple to pink. Whenever she tries to stop her, tell her that if she’s going to keep marking her they have to stop, Santana just laughs. “And have you be able to pretend that I haven’t been fucking you every day for the past month? Not a chance, Fabray.” She digs her short nails into the swell of Quinn’s breasts before dragging them down over painfully hard nipples, only relenting when she reaches hip bones.
Her hips shift impatiently, causing another throaty laugh to be released into her skin, Santana’s lips tracing one mark down her body. “You love what I do to you and you hate that.” A tongue darts out just below her belly button and flicks the slightly raised skin of her only stretch mark.
Pale fingers tangle in black hair, gripping tight at silky strands and pushing down. As cocky as Santana can be, she whispers, “Who knew Quinn Fabray would be so eager to have another girl wrap their lips around her clit,” softly against the soaking heat between her legs. It makes Quinn shiver, her parted legs curling tighter around Santana’s shoulders and she carefully tugs the head between her legs up once she feels that first broad stroke along her slit.
Quinn props herself up on her elbows, looking down at Santana who looks up at her confused and mildly irritated. The moment Quinn’s fingers trail down the side of her face, Santana’s features relax, playfully biting Quinn’s thumb when the blonde wipes away the wetness that’s already there.
Quinn’s not entirely sure what this is that they’re doing and she’s pretty sure Santana doesn’t know either. She says thank you anyway and Santana shakes her head before pressing her lips into Quinn’s palm. “For you being such a bitch, you sure are polite. I’m not sure anyone has thanked me for eating them out before they’ve even cum.” Quinn rolls her eyes as Santana perches her chin low on Quinn’s belly.
“Thank you,” Quinn repeats and she feels a shiver run through her again as her eyes trail Santana as she crawls back up her body. She blinks slowly, fingers no longer tugging but twirling strands gently, and she smiles at the very naked expression on her friend’s face. It’s still weird to see her like this but Quinn’s decided that Santana’s never looked more gorgeous than when they’re alone and naked in her bed.
“You’re not going all mushy on me are you?” She kisses the blonde softly after she says it and it’s Quinn’s turn to laugh.
“’Course not. We just… do this.” She tucks Santana’s hair behind her ear. They don’t do this.
“We fuck, Quinn. You think you’d be able to say it by now considering you’ve sat on my face.” Quinn blushes and Santana smiles this smile that Quinn had only ever seen her give Brittany. She bends her head down and captures Quinn’s lips again, softer and slower than when she first got here.
Santana never crawls back between her legs.