fic: This One's Gonna Leave A Mark [2/2]
TITLE 
This One's Gonna Leave A Mark
CHARACTERS: Santana Lopez/Rachel Berry.
WORDS: 11.7k [total]
RATING: NC-17.
DISCLAIMER: I don't owns the Glee.
SUMMARY: AU. She’d like to say that she’s forgotten about the girl, but she hasn’t.
Puck finds a set of keys on the front counter when they’re cleaning up at the end of the night.
“Sure someone’ll be missing these,” he says shaking his head and tossing them to her. She holds them up and sighs before dropping them into the drawer at her desk.
“Sucks,” she says looking over the books. Puck asks if she wants him to wait up but she sends him on because she wants to go over the books before she goes home and it’s not too late, so she’ll be fine leaving on her own. He kisses her forehead and tells her he’ll see her tomorrow and then he’s gone and she’s left in an empty backroom. So, yeah, she turns on some music while she checks over a few things and straightens up because the guys suck sometimes.
She’s mid-completely-embarrassing-dance when she hears a voice that’s become all too familiar say, “Puck sent me back here.”
She turns around slowly, after cutting the music, because maybe that’ll make the fact that she was three seconds from doing the robot less mortifying. “Yeah?”
Rachel’s there with this little grin on her face like she’s trying to keep from laughing. “Nice moves,” she says before breaking into a giggle, which is fucking hot for no reason.
“I’m talented in many areas. S’Puck gone?” Santana says in response. Rachel just nods and runs her tongue across her teeth then looks like she’s embarrassed. “Sup?”
“Well, I … um. I left my keys,” Rachel says, dipping her head so her hair falls in her face. The fish braid is gone and it’s wavy how Santana likes it, which - yeah, she shouldn’t have a favorite way for the girl to wear her hair, but whatever. Instead of complimenting it like she wants to, or like, you know, touching it because, fuck, it looks soft, Santana says, “I guess I should’ve known these were yours.”
Then she’s going around her desk to reach into the drawer she keeps locked and taking out a set of keys with two key chains: an I Heart NY one and a small, glittering gold star.
“I guess so.” Rachel pushes her hair off her face and over her shoulder, which shouldn’t be hot but totally is. She just won’t stop doing hot things.
“Did you get all the way home before you noticed?” She asks because basically anything else she could say would be inappropriate. Fuck, this girl’s legs are insane. Like, whatever influenced her choice in skirts should be given a presidential medal or whatever because damn.
“You’re staring,” Rachel says and like, she’s not the least bit embarrassed about being caught because it’s a good cause. Her eyes are thankful, so.
“Sorry,” she says because she should and not because she means it.
“I didn’t say I minded.” And, well, that’s nice to know. “For someone so attractive you’re kind of oblivious to people being attracted to you.”
She’s pretty sure she was walking over to hand over the keys but she’s kind of right in front of her now and she knows she’s not supposed to be handing them to Rachel’s mouth but that’s where her attention is until she registers the words coming out of it. “What? I’m not oblivious.”
“Then why haven’t you kissed me yet?” She could answer the question but there’s not one good enough. She doesn’t know but if she’s being invited -
“You’re taking too long,” Rachel says before grabbing the front of her tee and pulling her forward into the small gap between them and, okay, she doesn’t mean to moan so soon but the girl has a good mouth and Rachel just sort of went for it. Her kisses are teasing like she’s trying to drive Santana crazy and it’s working.
She drops the keys and puts one hand on Rachel’s hip and shifts the other into her hair like she’s wanted to do and doesn’t really wait long before she’s licking at the seam of Rachel’s lips then stroking the girl’s tongue with her own. Rachel pulls back after a moment, chest rising, breath coming out in soft pants, smiles a little and says, “You’re good at that.”
Her initial thought is duh, but her second reaction is somewhat better and that’s: “Let me keep doing it then.”
And, well, she does until she’s tugged Rachel’s shirt out of the band of her skirt and her hips are rocking against Rachel’s, pinned against the pool table.
She kisses down her neck and runs her hands up the small of her back and she just needs more.
She drops her hands to Rachel’s hips and lifts her onto the table. Rachel just grins - Santana didn’t think the girl was capable of dirty but that’s totally what it is - and grabs Santana’s belt loop until she’s climbing up and laying Rachel out on the black felt.
Rachel hooks her ankles around the small of her back, pressing their hips together and letting out these soft little whimpers as Santana’s kisses and bites at her neck. Santana’s hips jerk when she pulls her in a little tighter and she lifts her head to press their lips together again just once.
“God,” Rachel says, pushing her hand up under Santana’s shirt. “You’re so … I’ve wanted you since that first time.”
“Yeah?” Santana says, dropping her head into the crook of Rachel’s neck and rolling her hips. Her skin smells sweet, so she licks up the column of the girl’s neck, bites down on her pulse point. Rachel groans and she kisses her way up until her lips are teasing the shell of the girl’s ear, “Wanted you too. Can I have you?”
Rachel nods, stroking the hairs at the base of Santana’s neck, pushes her hips up and says, “Yes,” in this voice that, well, yeah, she needs Rachel to be naked now.
She kisses her again, groans when Rachel tugs on her bottom lip with her teeth then props herself up on her elbow to unbutton the girl’s shirt.
It only takes three buttons to get frustrated and there are like ten more to go. She really can’t help herself when she says, “Christ, the fuck is up with all these buttons?”
Rachel just giggles and lets out this little desperate noise as her hips roll, so yeah.
“Do you like this shirt because, fuck,” she asks. She doesn’t wait for a response before she’s yanking and buttons are flying. She should care more about like, ruining it but she doesn’t. Rachel gasps but Santana’s not sure if it’s because of the buttons or the fact that she pulled the cup down on Rachel’s hot pink bra and replaced it with her mouth. She’s assuming it’s the latter.
“You need to take this off,” Rachel says, fingers clawing at the hem of her tee. She pulls her own shirt off the rest of the way and drops it over the edge of the table then reaches behind herself to unclasp her bra. Rachel’s hands are where they belong, you know, on her chest, in moments and, yeah, she doesn’t want to break up the party because her palms are smooth but she kind of needs to taste her and there’s way too many clothes in the way.
She sits back on her knees and tugs down Rachel’s skirt then kisses her stomach just to feel the muscles flex under her lips, touches her over her panties just to watch her hips jump. Rachel’s so fucking wet and Santana tells her so. Rachel just moans, looks down at her with her lips slightly parted and says, “Please.” And, well, fuck.
She curls her fingers into the band of Rachel’s panties (they match her bra) and rolls them down her long ass legs. She kisses her way up from Rachel’s ankle to the inside of her knee then drags her tongue up her thigh and bites down on her hip. Rachel’s making the best sounds and she hasn’t even done anything real yet.
“Shit, baby.”
Her body is buzzing with the need to do this quick, but she wants to take her time. She lifts Rachel’s right leg over her shoulder and pushes her other thigh down against table, opening her up, and dips her head for the first taste.
Rachel whines out her name and rolls her hips when Santana lifts her head, looks down at her through her lashes and, god, she’s beautiful. Especially like this, chest heaving, swollen lips parted as she pants then says Santana’s name again when her tongue swipes past her clit.
She starts stroking Santana’s hair and, fuck, her fingers feel so good sliding over her scalp like that. Santana squeezes her hip and curls her tongue around Rachel’s nerves, loves the way her back bows and she lets out this soft oh then says, “You’re so … oh god,” when she slips her tongue inside.
Santana kind of just needs to see her come, like now.
She pulses her tongue a few more times, licks up and then wraps her lips around her nerves and rolls her tongue as she sucks. Rachel’s thigh quivers against her shoulder and her hips cant up, hard. Then her body goes still and she lets out the sexiest breath with her chest all flushed and her fingers curled around strands of Santana’s hair.
Her hand comes down to pull Santana up by her shoulder just as she’s kissing over Rachel’s stomach. Rachel’s fingers curl around the back of her neck and pull her down for a kiss. She moans when Santana licks into her mouth and bites down on her bottom lip when Santana rolls her hips against her.
“God,” Rachel says, then lets out this breathless little laugh, when Santana pulls back to look at her. Her fingers tease the hairs at the base of Santana’s neck and she has the sexiest fucking look in her eyes.
“Yeah?” Santana says with this little grin. She drops a quick kiss against the girl’s lips and smirks at the way Rachel just nods like she can’t possibly form a sentence right now, with her fingers still strumming Santana’s skin.
Rachel’s other hand scrapes down Santana’s abdomen then dips into the band of her jeans. She pops the button easily, tugs down the zipper and doesn’t even push them off Santana’s hips before she’s feeling inside, teasing Santana’s flesh and kissing along the column of Santana’s neck. Santana groans when Rachel’s fingers start rubbing circles over her clit, hisses when she teases at her entrance.
“You feel so…” Rachel says then just kisses her, uses her other hand to push at Santana’s hip until she’s on her knees, a leg on either side of Rachel’s thigh. Santana rolls her jeans and panties off her hips, jerks forward when Rachel presses two fingers in without warning and rolls her hips with the rhythm. Her fingers curl and pull and Santana buries her face in Rachel’s neck when she starts working her thumb over nerves and scissoring her fingers in this rhythm that-
“Fuck,” she says, nipping at Rachel’s jaw. Rachel wraps her leg around her waist, pulls her in just as fingers are curling up. She does not mean to moan so loud but the tension breaking in her stomach catches her by surprise and she falls forward a bit, bites down on the space where Rachel’s shoulder and neck meet and lets out these raspy breaths as Rachel strokes her down and kisses all over her shoulder.
She rolls off the girl when Rachel moves her hand away and lies on her side. It’s quiet and Rachel’s eyes are closed, her wet fingers and flexing against Santana’s hipbone.
Then she lets out another breathy laugh, turns her body toward Santana’s and fits her leg between Santana’s thighs, which, yeah, nice. Santana can’t help but push down on it.
“I really just meant to get my keys,” Rachel says looking at her with this cute little smile. She basically has no control over her hand reaching out to tweak the girl’s nipple, none - s’like she has to be touching her if she’s near now.
Rachel squeaks and Santana leans in and slants her mouth over the girl’s just because she wants to then rolls back on top of her and kicks her jeans off.
“Again?” She asks against Rachel’s mouth fingers gliding over the skin just under Rachel’s belly button.
“Again,” Rachel breathes out, pushing Santana’s hand down where she wants it.
She can take direction.
*
“Yo, Lopez,” Puck says with this grin that she immediately does not like when she comes into the shop in the morning, hair pulled up in a loose ponytail, wayfarers covering her eyes.
“Whaddya want?” He just keeps grinning, beckons her with his index and middle finger, which is really just the first warning but she’s tired. She got home at midnight, sated and sore with Rachel’s number on the inside of her wrist in tracer ink.
He leads her to the back and sits on her desk, which she hates and then says, “Like, I know your ego is huge or whatever, so I thought you were exaggerating.”
“What?”
“Your skills.”
“What skills?” He just starts fucking laughing and holds up a black rectangle that she realizes is a tape two seconds before she realizes what he’s saying.
“You’re like a pussy monster,” he laughs out, holding his side. She basically wants to kill him but she’s been arrested once and jail wasn’t fun, so she fucking claps him on the side of his head with her hand curled. He yelps and ducks from the second blow she sends but it still connects. “I was just checking the tape,” he says, still laughing after a moment.
“I hate you,” she sort of means it right now, because gross. She’s pretty sure she’s in his spank bank (because he’s a gross dick), but now there’s like … reference material. Ugh.
“Lesbian porn is fucking inaccurate,” he muses, shaking his head. That’s true, but, she still hates him and she’s going to hit him again. “You should be thanking me though. I got you laid by sending her back here. I thought maybe you could swindle a kiss but I didn’t expect you to fuck the girl like, immediately.”
“Shut the fuck up, Puck. Give me that,” she says, snatching the tape and then smacking him again. Yeah, she’s not throwing this thing away. She goes around the desk and puts it in her drawer, drops the key into the pocket of the boyfriend jeans she’s wearing. “You fucking suck, you know that?”
“We always check the tapes though,” he says. Like that makes it okay.
“You kept watching.”
“I couldn’t look away.”
“I hope you know my new mission in life is to fucking cockblock you, bastard.”
“Whatever dude,” he grins again. “I can die happy. It was like being in a threesome.”
“Did you wank to it?!” The grin spreads then he pauses before letting out a laugh and saying no then admitting he almost did. She believes him. She knows his tells. She still hates him.
“You’re such a little bitch,” Santana tells him, seriously, opening the fridge and getting a bottle of water. Normally she’d offer him one, too, but he can fuck off.
“I’m like, sorry. I swear.” He holds up his hands in surrender then starts laughing again.
“You should keep three feet if we cross any streets together. I can’t be blamed for pushing you into oncoming traffic.”
“I won’t fight it,” he says then kicks his Timbs against the desk. “You need to like, get that thing steam cleaned,” he says pointing toward the pool table.
“Shut up,” she laughs out. “M’gonna. Just glad this shit is mine and not Holly’s anymore. She’d freak.”
“Hell yeah,” he tells her. “You talked to her lately?”
“Yeah. Last week. She called and said she’s opening a food truck that sells cupcakes or something.” She shrugs, shaking her head, then leans down to swipe off a smudge on the Cement 3’s she’s wearing.
“Cupcakes? She’s a fucking character.”
“Gets shit done,” Santana says. It’s quiet for a moment and she’s just sipping her water and flipping through a magazine on the coffee table. It’s pretty fucking swanky back here.
“Dude, chicks just keep going and- ow! I’m done. Promise.”
Santana rolls her eyes and caps her drink, “Toss me that back.”
“So you can throw it again? No way.”
*
Rachel comes in at noon in tight ass dark jeans and this little ruffly top. She looks cute and hot as hell at the same time and Santana just sort of wants to like, drag her out of here caveman style and put her in her bed. Whatever, that’s not weird. Leave her alone.
Anyway.
She feels lame as hell for feeling so smitten (that’s the word, even if she doesn’t want to use it) off of like, what is basically a one-night stand - though she doesn’t want it to be.
Rachel lifts these super cute sunglasses off her face and pushes them up on her head and leans against Santana’s station while Santana just sits there grinning at her like a fucking loser with her legs parted. She can’t help herself.
“Hi,” Rachel says, then she licks her lips and Santana’s positive that time was on purpose.
Her hand is reaching to close around Rachel’s wrist without permission as she says, “Hey,” and asks Rachel what she’s doing here. Rachel leans into the touch and ends up sort of between her legs as she smiles down at her through her lashes.
“You said you’d do me today,” she says slowly, then bites the edge of her bottom lip, these little creases forming at the corner of her eyes and, fuck.
Santana’s basically like, a goner.
She lets out this breath she didn’t realize she was holding and strokes her fingers over the soft skin of Rachel’s wrist.
“Yeah, I did,” she says, leaning back in her stool. “What do you want me to give you?”
Rachel blushes then laughs a little. “You’re dirty.”
Santana just raises her eyebrows, smirks. “I’d deny it but I don’t like lying.”
Rachel rolls her eyes and exhales, folds her fingers to touch Santana’s skin. Then she starts grinning and before Santana can say, “What?” she laughs and says, “You have a rainbow tattoo on your thigh.”
Santana can’t help but laugh in response and like, pulling Rachel closer is just a reaction to that or whatever, but Rachel doesn’t move away or seem to care that there are other people around. Puck, Z and Matt are all tattooing people and Hugo is consulting a piercing, so whatever.
“I do,” she laughs out then shakes her head. That’s the only regretted tat on her body and it’s basically been unwanted since before she got it.
Sometimes she and Puck get drunk (always) and sometimes there’s a tattoo gun nearby and Santana’s telling Puck he can like, do whatever because she just wants ink and he’s the kind of drunk asshole who’ll tattoo a little rainbow on his best friend’s upper thigh and then laugh hysterically for the next five years. If he could hear Rachel, she knows he’d be so pleased with himself and she basically wants to kill him today.
“That was a mistake,” she says rolling her eyes. “I was drunk and Puck’s a dick, so.”
Rachel just smiles at her, scrunches up her nose and then drops her eyes to Santana’s lips.
“You can kiss me,” Santana teases. “I mean, I own the place so I won’t get in trouble.”
Rachel rolls her eyes, lets out this pretend annoyed breath then moistens her lips as the fingers of her free hand curl into Santana’s tee. Then she presses their lips together gently, just for a few seconds and pulls back but Santana leans forward, following, and kisses her once more.
She’s fucking … God; this girl is going to be like, the death of her. All she wants to do is lay her out somewhere or pin her against something and take her fucking time-
Whatever she’s thinking must be on her face because Rachel’s giving her the most amused little look. She pushes at Santana’s shoulder and says, “Stop that.”
“What?”
“I can see what you’re thinking.”
Santana just laughs at the way the girl’s voice goes up mid-sentence and it’s nice to know she’s not the only one affected by all this. She licks her lips slow and leans back.
“Okay. Let’s talk about this tat you want from me.” Rachel shifts back just a bit but her fingers keep flexing against the cotton of her shirt.
“Um, well. I just got a new show,” she says, blushing. “Lead this time.”
“Yeah? That’s … wow. I’m like, proud,” she says and she doesn’t really feel lame because, whatever, she is. The girl’s like, making moves and shit. Santana can appreciate that type of thing. “Congrats.”
“Thank you,” Rachel says and her head dips just a bit as she smiles.
“So, what do you want?”
“Just two music notes,” she says biting at her lip again then looking up at Santana’s face.
She can’t her help herself, so her voice drops a few octaves when she says, “Where do you want it?”
Rachel’s face and neck flush so quickly that Santana wants to like, Arsenio woop. That’s not even her best dirty talk.
“Oh my god,” Rachel says, eyes blinking. (They’re so fucking pretty.) “You have to stop or I’ll want you right now,” she whispers.
Since they’re whispering now, she leans closer, lets her lips brush the girl’s ear when she says, “I already want you though.”
“God,” Rachel says and all Santana is thinking about is how that’s what she said after Santana made her come and she wants to do that again as soon as possible. Like, now, really. If it wouldn’t be like, wrong, she’d kick everyone out and take her right here.
She needs to fucking chill.
She leans back in her stool, lets Rachel’s wrist go and runs her hand over her jeans. Rachel’s just looking at her with this expression she likes, a lot.
“I think you should get it on your shoulder.”
“Get what?”
Santana laughs, “The tat, baby.”
“Oh,” she says. “I’m… you’re distracting, you know that?”
“Hmm. I might’ve heard it once or twice.”
“Of course,” Rachel says, shaking her head just a bit. ”I like the placement idea,” she adds and, yeah, Santana lets her fingertips run over Rachel’s shoulder.
“I, um, I’m going to the washroom before we start, okay?” Rachel says and um, is that an invitation, because it’s not necessarily spacious but she can make that work.
It’s like Rachel can read her thoughts because she grins and says, “You stay here,” all fake serious then turns on the heels of her little flats.
She can wait.
Maybe.
Whatever.
She just runs her tongue over her teeth and slips off her stool and checks out the tat Puck is doing the next station over.
He grins at her, all obnoxious and knowing, and says, “Sup?” and she knows him, so she doesn’t even respond. “She’s bad, yo,” he adds and she rolls her eyes because, duh.
“I know.”
He just nods and focuses his attention on shading the sick ass tribal piece on the guy’s back and she presses a kiss to his cheek just because and heads back to her station and starts sketching.
She’s got two little notes on the pad when Rachel comes back and leans up to see.
“Sorry,” she says. “Sam called me.”
“S’cool,” Santana says, pushing the pad over so Rachel can get a better view. “How’s that?”
“Perfect,” she says sincerely.
Santana makes quick work of the transfer, tells Rachel she has to take off her shirt and laughs a little at the way Rachel’s cheeks go pink before she peels it off and settles onto the chair.
Yeah, so, straddling her chair to tat has never been a problem but like, it’s giving her ideas and she’s trying to not think about those. She gets the transfer ink onto Rachel’s shoulder, checks the placement with her and like Rachel’s tensing up before she does anything. She just has her right-gloved hand on the girl’s shoulder next to the outline.
Rachel flinches when the needle touches down and Santana pulls back and asks if she’s hurt her. Rachel takes in a little breath and says, “It’s not that.”
She kind of has to ask, “What is it?”
Rachel shakes her head. “It’s silly.”
“Tell me.”
“It’s just … you’re touching me and…” she blinks her eyes closed and has this little grin on and, god.
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” Rachel says, and then presses herself back into the chair. “Just …”
“Won’t take long, promise,” Santana says. “I, um, I can get out of here and we can get some food.”
“Food,” Rachel says.
“Mhm. It’s ass backward since you’ve already gone down on me but I want to like, feed you and take you somewhere. I think they call that a date,” she says, smirking.
“Is there good takeout by your place?”
Oh, okay.
“The best.”
“I think you should finish now then,” Rachel says turning back toward the mirror and like, Santana just grins at her in it before focusing on finishing this fucking tat.
She has to clear her mind because the worst thing she could do is give her a bad one because she’s too focused on, you know, the business, so she takes a minute to run her fingers over the tracer ink before she touches the gun to Rachel’s skin.
She just keeps her eyes away from the mirror and etches on these cute little music notes that she’s going to want to kiss one day, which…
God. She’s ridiculous.
She finishes pretty quickly and it looks good. The placement is nice and she tells Rachel it’s on the house when she tries to go to the counter and pay Tina and like, whatever, it was tiny and she fucking … she doesn’t know but it’s not a big deal to her. She just wants to get out of here.
So, she does. Grabs the bag and follows Rachel out then pulls Rachel against her body and kisses her because just needs to.
She’s seriously not into PDA but she just, whatever. She does what she wants, okay?
Rachel’s fingers curl around her bicep and she kisses back and says, “Your place,” like a command and Santana likes it.
*
Everything’s a blur after that. You know, not important. There’s the train and the few blocks to her apartment and testing her patience in an elevator with the hottest girl alive but she restrains herself until she’s got the door to her place open and Rachel following her in.
She kisses her once, solidly, and slides her hands under Rachel’s top before pushing it over her head. Then, she’s pulling Rachel toward her by the belt loops close to her zipper and licking into her mouth. Rachel’s arms wrap around her neck and, fuck.
She backs her up against the wall and wastes no time popping the button on Rachel’s jeans loose and pulling down her zipper. Rachel doesn’t seem to mind, just keeps kissing her, hard, with her hands gripping Santana’s hair.
There’s a soft pop when she pulls her mouth away to breathe and Santana takes the moment to push Rachel’s pants and panties off her hips and down her thighs. Rachel kicks them the rest of the way off, squeaks when Santana sets her hand on the back of her thigh and lifts, so she’s open and pressed solidly against the wall, then lets out this low moan when Santana slides her fingers on either side of her clit, then she’s pressing them in.
Rachel’s making the best noises right against her ear as she fills her. She lets out a whine when Santana’s fingers press up and her thumb swipes over her nerves, so Santana does it again and again, until Rachel’s letting her head fall back against the plaster, hips coming down to meet the thrusts of Santana’s fingers.
She licks a path from Rachel’s collarbone to her chin - wetting marks she left just last night - then bites down on her pulse point and curls her tongue around her earlobe. Rachel’s moans are seriously like music, this little chorus of whimpers and gasps. Her nails are dig into Santana’s arm and she just hikes her up a little higher for a better angle.
Rachel starts panting her name when Santana commits her hips to follow through and she just needs her mouth again. She kisses over the swell of Rachel’s breast, lets her tongue slide over the same sweat slicked skin before she kisses her way up to her mouth.
Rachel’s hand scratches over the back of her neck and her nails sink in when Santana twists her wrist just so. The pain registers but she doesn’t mind in the least and she can feel tension building more rapidly in her own body.
Rachel pulls away from her mouth to let out this sexy gasp like she can’t believe what’s happening to her. Then she’s capturing Santana’s bottom lip and sucking, hard, before tugging on it with her teeth.
And Santana just needs … she needs to hear that shaky breath and see the flush that will cover Rachel’s chest and neck when she falls apart.
She wets her lips and gets right by Rachel’s ear, nips at it, because she can, and says, “Just let go baby. I wanna see.”
Rachel’s nodding with her eyes fluttering closed and pulsing around Santana’s fingers when Santana says, “Come,” and rubs her nerves with just right pressure.
It’s quiet, the way Rachel shatters, but it’s present in the way her thighs tremble, her eyes flutter, still heavy-lidded, and her mouth, red and swollen, drops opens.
Santana’s arms fucking hurt but she just rests her forehead against Rachel’s, keeps holding her up and kisses her mouth gently.
She pulls her hand away after working her down slow and sets both hands under Rachel’s ass. Her thighs squeeze around Santana’s waist and then Rachel says her name, just once, laughs lightly and says, “I can’t even… Just…” before kissing her.
“Bed?” Santana asks. Rachel just nods and Santana carries her the few feet to her room, lays her out on her bed. She looks so fucking good on Santana’s red comforter, hair spread out over her pillows. Santana strips out of her clothes because she doesn’t need them then crawls up the bed, settles herself on Rachel’s side, curving a thigh over hers.
Rachel threads their fingers together and says, “So, you are always this good,” like it’s fact. Santana likes it so she kisses her shoulder, looks toward the other wondering if she hurt it pressing her up against the wall like that. Rachel’s apparently really good at reading her because she just shakes her head and says it’s fine then shifts so Santana’s on her back and she’s straddling her thighs.
She looks really fucking good from this angle and Santana folds her arms behind her head and smirks up. Rachel lets out this amused breath and scratches at Santana’s stomach.
“You always good?” Santana asks.
“Let’s find out,” Rachel says.
(She does.)
*
She wakes up both hungry and thirsty and she’s sure it has a lot to do with the beautiful girl in her bed. She tries to slip out of bed quietly because Rachel’s still sleeping but she’s not so successful.
“Come back,” Rachel says, sleepily. Her face is squished against Santana’s pillow and her hair’s spread out over her shoulder and, yeah, she’s still naked, so there’s that. She looks cute though, all small and sleepy.
“M’getting some water and a menu,” she says and Rachel just hums and lets her eyes close again.
Santana grabs two bottles of water and two slices of cinnamon raisin bread because she needs some type of nourishment like, now. She gets the menu for her favorite Thai place a few blocks over.
She decides to pull on a white V-neck and a pair tiny black boxer briefs and grabs a shirt for Rachel, too, after setting everything on her nightstand.
Rachel rolls over as she climbs back into bed and Santana sets the shirt next to her. She sits up and tugs it over her head. It nearly swallows her and she looks hot so Santana lets her fingers slide over the skin of her inner thigh for a moment. There’s a nice little hickey right there, peeking out from under the cotton.
She hands Rachel one of the waters when she leans up on her elbow. The girl thanks her and takes a sip as Santana nibbles on a piece of bread.
“Want?” She asks, holding it out. Rachel says yes and bites it when Santana holds it closer to her mouth. “There’s a Thai place with like, the best spring rolls ever that I always order from. We could order from there,” she says when they’ve finished the first slice.
“Mm. Sounds good,” Rachel says. She’s glad because that’s the only menu she grabbed and she kind of really, really wants Thai.
Santana gives her the menu and lets her look it over. She already knows what she wants. It’s what she always gets. She sips her water as Rachel decides, reaches for the remote of her dock to turn on some music and relaxes against her pillows while the girl decides.
She calls them up minutes later to order pineapple fried rice (extra spicy), for her, and the veggie drunken noodles Rachel points to in the menu. She tacks on an order of spring rolls and mango and sticky rice for them to share then drops her phone back on the nightstand.
Rachel crawls over her body, straddles Santana’s hips and presses a kiss to her lips and like, it kind of just hits her that the girl’s still here. Santana’s usually good with the tap and dash when she’s somewhere else and quick to show the exit when they’re at hers but she doesn’t want her to leave.
Rachel’s fingers are tracing over the lines of her sleeve when she starts to giggle.
“What’s funny?” She asks.
Rachel just smiles at her and says, “This song,” eyes rolling toward Santana’s dock. She starts laughing like, immediately because she wasn’t even paying attention to what she turned on and this isn’t the playlist she meant to start, but Juvenile is giving instructions on backing that ass up and, well, now she has ideas.
She just grins, bites her bottom lip and brings her hand down to smack Rachel’s ass lightly. Rachel squeals and grabs for Santana’s hand, holds it above her head.
“Hey,” Santana says, wrapping her fingers around Rachel’s forearm with her other hand. Rachel just grabs that too (she’s like, surprisingly strong) and holds both of Santana’s hands above her head and gives her this dirty little grin with her hair falling around her face. Maybe her breath hitches.
“If you wanna be on top, you’ve gotta do something while you’re there babe,” she goads and Rachel just rolls her eyes and says, “I plan to.”
*
Um, she fucking hates delivery guys for like, the rest of forever because dude comes knocking just as she’s kissing her way down Rachel’s body and it’s not like she can leave him there until she’s done (she doesn’t plan for this to be quick). So she gets up and grumbles while she signs the receipt but slaps a five in his palm anyway.
They kind of do need to eat, so she puts the food down in her living room on the coffee table, gets Rachel’s pants from the floor near her door and takes them to her though she doesn’t mind eating naked.
“I’m starving,” Rachel says grabbing her panties from inside her jeans. She pulls them on then wraps an elastic from around her wrist into her hair.
Santana says, “I don’t know why,” because she can’t help herself.
“You’re so dirty.”
“And you like it,” she says, like she knows it’s true (obviously), then puts her hands on Rachel’s hips as she walks her to the living room, licks over a tiny little red mark behind the girl’s ear.
*
“I want another one,” Rachel says, when they’re done eating and she’s beneath Santana on the couch, Santana’s thumb stroking the gold star she tatted there. Her leg wraps around Santana’s waist and her fingers play with the hairs at the base of her neck. Santana’s not sure if she means a tattoo or an orgasm.
She can do both.
This One's Gonna Leave A Mark
CHARACTERS: Santana Lopez/Rachel Berry.
WORDS: 11.7k [total]
RATING: NC-17.
DISCLAIMER: I don't owns the Glee.
SUMMARY: AU. She’d like to say that she’s forgotten about the girl, but she hasn’t.
Puck finds a set of keys on the front counter when they’re cleaning up at the end of the night.
“Sure someone’ll be missing these,” he says shaking his head and tossing them to her. She holds them up and sighs before dropping them into the drawer at her desk.
“Sucks,” she says looking over the books. Puck asks if she wants him to wait up but she sends him on because she wants to go over the books before she goes home and it’s not too late, so she’ll be fine leaving on her own. He kisses her forehead and tells her he’ll see her tomorrow and then he’s gone and she’s left in an empty backroom. So, yeah, she turns on some music while she checks over a few things and straightens up because the guys suck sometimes.
She’s mid-completely-embarrassing-dance when she hears a voice that’s become all too familiar say, “Puck sent me back here.”
She turns around slowly, after cutting the music, because maybe that’ll make the fact that she was three seconds from doing the robot less mortifying. “Yeah?”
Rachel’s there with this little grin on her face like she’s trying to keep from laughing. “Nice moves,” she says before breaking into a giggle, which is fucking hot for no reason.
“I’m talented in many areas. S’Puck gone?” Santana says in response. Rachel just nods and runs her tongue across her teeth then looks like she’s embarrassed. “Sup?”
“Well, I … um. I left my keys,” Rachel says, dipping her head so her hair falls in her face. The fish braid is gone and it’s wavy how Santana likes it, which - yeah, she shouldn’t have a favorite way for the girl to wear her hair, but whatever. Instead of complimenting it like she wants to, or like, you know, touching it because, fuck, it looks soft, Santana says, “I guess I should’ve known these were yours.”
Then she’s going around her desk to reach into the drawer she keeps locked and taking out a set of keys with two key chains: an I Heart NY one and a small, glittering gold star.
“I guess so.” Rachel pushes her hair off her face and over her shoulder, which shouldn’t be hot but totally is. She just won’t stop doing hot things.
“Did you get all the way home before you noticed?” She asks because basically anything else she could say would be inappropriate. Fuck, this girl’s legs are insane. Like, whatever influenced her choice in skirts should be given a presidential medal or whatever because damn.
“You’re staring,” Rachel says and like, she’s not the least bit embarrassed about being caught because it’s a good cause. Her eyes are thankful, so.
“Sorry,” she says because she should and not because she means it.
“I didn’t say I minded.” And, well, that’s nice to know. “For someone so attractive you’re kind of oblivious to people being attracted to you.”
She’s pretty sure she was walking over to hand over the keys but she’s kind of right in front of her now and she knows she’s not supposed to be handing them to Rachel’s mouth but that’s where her attention is until she registers the words coming out of it. “What? I’m not oblivious.”
“Then why haven’t you kissed me yet?” She could answer the question but there’s not one good enough. She doesn’t know but if she’s being invited -
“You’re taking too long,” Rachel says before grabbing the front of her tee and pulling her forward into the small gap between them and, okay, she doesn’t mean to moan so soon but the girl has a good mouth and Rachel just sort of went for it. Her kisses are teasing like she’s trying to drive Santana crazy and it’s working.
She drops the keys and puts one hand on Rachel’s hip and shifts the other into her hair like she’s wanted to do and doesn’t really wait long before she’s licking at the seam of Rachel’s lips then stroking the girl’s tongue with her own. Rachel pulls back after a moment, chest rising, breath coming out in soft pants, smiles a little and says, “You’re good at that.”
Her initial thought is duh, but her second reaction is somewhat better and that’s: “Let me keep doing it then.”
And, well, she does until she’s tugged Rachel’s shirt out of the band of her skirt and her hips are rocking against Rachel’s, pinned against the pool table.
She kisses down her neck and runs her hands up the small of her back and she just needs more.
She drops her hands to Rachel’s hips and lifts her onto the table. Rachel just grins - Santana didn’t think the girl was capable of dirty but that’s totally what it is - and grabs Santana’s belt loop until she’s climbing up and laying Rachel out on the black felt.
Rachel hooks her ankles around the small of her back, pressing their hips together and letting out these soft little whimpers as Santana’s kisses and bites at her neck. Santana’s hips jerk when she pulls her in a little tighter and she lifts her head to press their lips together again just once.
“God,” Rachel says, pushing her hand up under Santana’s shirt. “You’re so … I’ve wanted you since that first time.”
“Yeah?” Santana says, dropping her head into the crook of Rachel’s neck and rolling her hips. Her skin smells sweet, so she licks up the column of the girl’s neck, bites down on her pulse point. Rachel groans and she kisses her way up until her lips are teasing the shell of the girl’s ear, “Wanted you too. Can I have you?”
Rachel nods, stroking the hairs at the base of Santana’s neck, pushes her hips up and says, “Yes,” in this voice that, well, yeah, she needs Rachel to be naked now.
She kisses her again, groans when Rachel tugs on her bottom lip with her teeth then props herself up on her elbow to unbutton the girl’s shirt.
It only takes three buttons to get frustrated and there are like ten more to go. She really can’t help herself when she says, “Christ, the fuck is up with all these buttons?”
Rachel just giggles and lets out this little desperate noise as her hips roll, so yeah.
“Do you like this shirt because, fuck,” she asks. She doesn’t wait for a response before she’s yanking and buttons are flying. She should care more about like, ruining it but she doesn’t. Rachel gasps but Santana’s not sure if it’s because of the buttons or the fact that she pulled the cup down on Rachel’s hot pink bra and replaced it with her mouth. She’s assuming it’s the latter.
“You need to take this off,” Rachel says, fingers clawing at the hem of her tee. She pulls her own shirt off the rest of the way and drops it over the edge of the table then reaches behind herself to unclasp her bra. Rachel’s hands are where they belong, you know, on her chest, in moments and, yeah, she doesn’t want to break up the party because her palms are smooth but she kind of needs to taste her and there’s way too many clothes in the way.
She sits back on her knees and tugs down Rachel’s skirt then kisses her stomach just to feel the muscles flex under her lips, touches her over her panties just to watch her hips jump. Rachel’s so fucking wet and Santana tells her so. Rachel just moans, looks down at her with her lips slightly parted and says, “Please.” And, well, fuck.
She curls her fingers into the band of Rachel’s panties (they match her bra) and rolls them down her long ass legs. She kisses her way up from Rachel’s ankle to the inside of her knee then drags her tongue up her thigh and bites down on her hip. Rachel’s making the best sounds and she hasn’t even done anything real yet.
“Shit, baby.”
Her body is buzzing with the need to do this quick, but she wants to take her time. She lifts Rachel’s right leg over her shoulder and pushes her other thigh down against table, opening her up, and dips her head for the first taste.
Rachel whines out her name and rolls her hips when Santana lifts her head, looks down at her through her lashes and, god, she’s beautiful. Especially like this, chest heaving, swollen lips parted as she pants then says Santana’s name again when her tongue swipes past her clit.
She starts stroking Santana’s hair and, fuck, her fingers feel so good sliding over her scalp like that. Santana squeezes her hip and curls her tongue around Rachel’s nerves, loves the way her back bows and she lets out this soft oh then says, “You’re so … oh god,” when she slips her tongue inside.
Santana kind of just needs to see her come, like now.
She pulses her tongue a few more times, licks up and then wraps her lips around her nerves and rolls her tongue as she sucks. Rachel’s thigh quivers against her shoulder and her hips cant up, hard. Then her body goes still and she lets out the sexiest breath with her chest all flushed and her fingers curled around strands of Santana’s hair.
Her hand comes down to pull Santana up by her shoulder just as she’s kissing over Rachel’s stomach. Rachel’s fingers curl around the back of her neck and pull her down for a kiss. She moans when Santana licks into her mouth and bites down on her bottom lip when Santana rolls her hips against her.
“God,” Rachel says, then lets out this breathless little laugh, when Santana pulls back to look at her. Her fingers tease the hairs at the base of Santana’s neck and she has the sexiest fucking look in her eyes.
“Yeah?” Santana says with this little grin. She drops a quick kiss against the girl’s lips and smirks at the way Rachel just nods like she can’t possibly form a sentence right now, with her fingers still strumming Santana’s skin.
Rachel’s other hand scrapes down Santana’s abdomen then dips into the band of her jeans. She pops the button easily, tugs down the zipper and doesn’t even push them off Santana’s hips before she’s feeling inside, teasing Santana’s flesh and kissing along the column of Santana’s neck. Santana groans when Rachel’s fingers start rubbing circles over her clit, hisses when she teases at her entrance.
“You feel so…” Rachel says then just kisses her, uses her other hand to push at Santana’s hip until she’s on her knees, a leg on either side of Rachel’s thigh. Santana rolls her jeans and panties off her hips, jerks forward when Rachel presses two fingers in without warning and rolls her hips with the rhythm. Her fingers curl and pull and Santana buries her face in Rachel’s neck when she starts working her thumb over nerves and scissoring her fingers in this rhythm that-
“Fuck,” she says, nipping at Rachel’s jaw. Rachel wraps her leg around her waist, pulls her in just as fingers are curling up. She does not mean to moan so loud but the tension breaking in her stomach catches her by surprise and she falls forward a bit, bites down on the space where Rachel’s shoulder and neck meet and lets out these raspy breaths as Rachel strokes her down and kisses all over her shoulder.
She rolls off the girl when Rachel moves her hand away and lies on her side. It’s quiet and Rachel’s eyes are closed, her wet fingers and flexing against Santana’s hipbone.
Then she lets out another breathy laugh, turns her body toward Santana’s and fits her leg between Santana’s thighs, which, yeah, nice. Santana can’t help but push down on it.
“I really just meant to get my keys,” Rachel says looking at her with this cute little smile. She basically has no control over her hand reaching out to tweak the girl’s nipple, none - s’like she has to be touching her if she’s near now.
Rachel squeaks and Santana leans in and slants her mouth over the girl’s just because she wants to then rolls back on top of her and kicks her jeans off.
“Again?” She asks against Rachel’s mouth fingers gliding over the skin just under Rachel’s belly button.
“Again,” Rachel breathes out, pushing Santana’s hand down where she wants it.
She can take direction.
*
“Yo, Lopez,” Puck says with this grin that she immediately does not like when she comes into the shop in the morning, hair pulled up in a loose ponytail, wayfarers covering her eyes.
“Whaddya want?” He just keeps grinning, beckons her with his index and middle finger, which is really just the first warning but she’s tired. She got home at midnight, sated and sore with Rachel’s number on the inside of her wrist in tracer ink.
He leads her to the back and sits on her desk, which she hates and then says, “Like, I know your ego is huge or whatever, so I thought you were exaggerating.”
“What?”
“Your skills.”
“What skills?” He just starts fucking laughing and holds up a black rectangle that she realizes is a tape two seconds before she realizes what he’s saying.
“You’re like a pussy monster,” he laughs out, holding his side. She basically wants to kill him but she’s been arrested once and jail wasn’t fun, so she fucking claps him on the side of his head with her hand curled. He yelps and ducks from the second blow she sends but it still connects. “I was just checking the tape,” he says, still laughing after a moment.
“I hate you,” she sort of means it right now, because gross. She’s pretty sure she’s in his spank bank (because he’s a gross dick), but now there’s like … reference material. Ugh.
“Lesbian porn is fucking inaccurate,” he muses, shaking his head. That’s true, but, she still hates him and she’s going to hit him again. “You should be thanking me though. I got you laid by sending her back here. I thought maybe you could swindle a kiss but I didn’t expect you to fuck the girl like, immediately.”
“Shut the fuck up, Puck. Give me that,” she says, snatching the tape and then smacking him again. Yeah, she’s not throwing this thing away. She goes around the desk and puts it in her drawer, drops the key into the pocket of the boyfriend jeans she’s wearing. “You fucking suck, you know that?”
“We always check the tapes though,” he says. Like that makes it okay.
“You kept watching.”
“I couldn’t look away.”
“I hope you know my new mission in life is to fucking cockblock you, bastard.”
“Whatever dude,” he grins again. “I can die happy. It was like being in a threesome.”
“Did you wank to it?!” The grin spreads then he pauses before letting out a laugh and saying no then admitting he almost did. She believes him. She knows his tells. She still hates him.
“You’re such a little bitch,” Santana tells him, seriously, opening the fridge and getting a bottle of water. Normally she’d offer him one, too, but he can fuck off.
“I’m like, sorry. I swear.” He holds up his hands in surrender then starts laughing again.
“You should keep three feet if we cross any streets together. I can’t be blamed for pushing you into oncoming traffic.”
“I won’t fight it,” he says then kicks his Timbs against the desk. “You need to like, get that thing steam cleaned,” he says pointing toward the pool table.
“Shut up,” she laughs out. “M’gonna. Just glad this shit is mine and not Holly’s anymore. She’d freak.”
“Hell yeah,” he tells her. “You talked to her lately?”
“Yeah. Last week. She called and said she’s opening a food truck that sells cupcakes or something.” She shrugs, shaking her head, then leans down to swipe off a smudge on the Cement 3’s she’s wearing.
“Cupcakes? She’s a fucking character.”
“Gets shit done,” Santana says. It’s quiet for a moment and she’s just sipping her water and flipping through a magazine on the coffee table. It’s pretty fucking swanky back here.
“Dude, chicks just keep going and- ow! I’m done. Promise.”
Santana rolls her eyes and caps her drink, “Toss me that back.”
“So you can throw it again? No way.”
*
Rachel comes in at noon in tight ass dark jeans and this little ruffly top. She looks cute and hot as hell at the same time and Santana just sort of wants to like, drag her out of here caveman style and put her in her bed. Whatever, that’s not weird. Leave her alone.
Anyway.
She feels lame as hell for feeling so smitten (that’s the word, even if she doesn’t want to use it) off of like, what is basically a one-night stand - though she doesn’t want it to be.
Rachel lifts these super cute sunglasses off her face and pushes them up on her head and leans against Santana’s station while Santana just sits there grinning at her like a fucking loser with her legs parted. She can’t help herself.
“Hi,” Rachel says, then she licks her lips and Santana’s positive that time was on purpose.
Her hand is reaching to close around Rachel’s wrist without permission as she says, “Hey,” and asks Rachel what she’s doing here. Rachel leans into the touch and ends up sort of between her legs as she smiles down at her through her lashes.
“You said you’d do me today,” she says slowly, then bites the edge of her bottom lip, these little creases forming at the corner of her eyes and, fuck.
Santana’s basically like, a goner.
She lets out this breath she didn’t realize she was holding and strokes her fingers over the soft skin of Rachel’s wrist.
“Yeah, I did,” she says, leaning back in her stool. “What do you want me to give you?”
Rachel blushes then laughs a little. “You’re dirty.”
Santana just raises her eyebrows, smirks. “I’d deny it but I don’t like lying.”
Rachel rolls her eyes and exhales, folds her fingers to touch Santana’s skin. Then she starts grinning and before Santana can say, “What?” she laughs and says, “You have a rainbow tattoo on your thigh.”
Santana can’t help but laugh in response and like, pulling Rachel closer is just a reaction to that or whatever, but Rachel doesn’t move away or seem to care that there are other people around. Puck, Z and Matt are all tattooing people and Hugo is consulting a piercing, so whatever.
“I do,” she laughs out then shakes her head. That’s the only regretted tat on her body and it’s basically been unwanted since before she got it.
Sometimes she and Puck get drunk (always) and sometimes there’s a tattoo gun nearby and Santana’s telling Puck he can like, do whatever because she just wants ink and he’s the kind of drunk asshole who’ll tattoo a little rainbow on his best friend’s upper thigh and then laugh hysterically for the next five years. If he could hear Rachel, she knows he’d be so pleased with himself and she basically wants to kill him today.
“That was a mistake,” she says rolling her eyes. “I was drunk and Puck’s a dick, so.”
Rachel just smiles at her, scrunches up her nose and then drops her eyes to Santana’s lips.
“You can kiss me,” Santana teases. “I mean, I own the place so I won’t get in trouble.”
Rachel rolls her eyes, lets out this pretend annoyed breath then moistens her lips as the fingers of her free hand curl into Santana’s tee. Then she presses their lips together gently, just for a few seconds and pulls back but Santana leans forward, following, and kisses her once more.
She’s fucking … God; this girl is going to be like, the death of her. All she wants to do is lay her out somewhere or pin her against something and take her fucking time-
Whatever she’s thinking must be on her face because Rachel’s giving her the most amused little look. She pushes at Santana’s shoulder and says, “Stop that.”
“What?”
“I can see what you’re thinking.”
Santana just laughs at the way the girl’s voice goes up mid-sentence and it’s nice to know she’s not the only one affected by all this. She licks her lips slow and leans back.
“Okay. Let’s talk about this tat you want from me.” Rachel shifts back just a bit but her fingers keep flexing against the cotton of her shirt.
“Um, well. I just got a new show,” she says, blushing. “Lead this time.”
“Yeah? That’s … wow. I’m like, proud,” she says and she doesn’t really feel lame because, whatever, she is. The girl’s like, making moves and shit. Santana can appreciate that type of thing. “Congrats.”
“Thank you,” Rachel says and her head dips just a bit as she smiles.
“So, what do you want?”
“Just two music notes,” she says biting at her lip again then looking up at Santana’s face.
She can’t her help herself, so her voice drops a few octaves when she says, “Where do you want it?”
Rachel’s face and neck flush so quickly that Santana wants to like, Arsenio woop. That’s not even her best dirty talk.
“Oh my god,” Rachel says, eyes blinking. (They’re so fucking pretty.) “You have to stop or I’ll want you right now,” she whispers.
Since they’re whispering now, she leans closer, lets her lips brush the girl’s ear when she says, “I already want you though.”
“God,” Rachel says and all Santana is thinking about is how that’s what she said after Santana made her come and she wants to do that again as soon as possible. Like, now, really. If it wouldn’t be like, wrong, she’d kick everyone out and take her right here.
She needs to fucking chill.
She leans back in her stool, lets Rachel’s wrist go and runs her hand over her jeans. Rachel’s just looking at her with this expression she likes, a lot.
“I think you should get it on your shoulder.”
“Get what?”
Santana laughs, “The tat, baby.”
“Oh,” she says. “I’m… you’re distracting, you know that?”
“Hmm. I might’ve heard it once or twice.”
“Of course,” Rachel says, shaking her head just a bit. ”I like the placement idea,” she adds and, yeah, Santana lets her fingertips run over Rachel’s shoulder.
“I, um, I’m going to the washroom before we start, okay?” Rachel says and um, is that an invitation, because it’s not necessarily spacious but she can make that work.
It’s like Rachel can read her thoughts because she grins and says, “You stay here,” all fake serious then turns on the heels of her little flats.
She can wait.
Maybe.
Whatever.
She just runs her tongue over her teeth and slips off her stool and checks out the tat Puck is doing the next station over.
He grins at her, all obnoxious and knowing, and says, “Sup?” and she knows him, so she doesn’t even respond. “She’s bad, yo,” he adds and she rolls her eyes because, duh.
“I know.”
He just nods and focuses his attention on shading the sick ass tribal piece on the guy’s back and she presses a kiss to his cheek just because and heads back to her station and starts sketching.
She’s got two little notes on the pad when Rachel comes back and leans up to see.
“Sorry,” she says. “Sam called me.”
“S’cool,” Santana says, pushing the pad over so Rachel can get a better view. “How’s that?”
“Perfect,” she says sincerely.
Santana makes quick work of the transfer, tells Rachel she has to take off her shirt and laughs a little at the way Rachel’s cheeks go pink before she peels it off and settles onto the chair.
Yeah, so, straddling her chair to tat has never been a problem but like, it’s giving her ideas and she’s trying to not think about those. She gets the transfer ink onto Rachel’s shoulder, checks the placement with her and like Rachel’s tensing up before she does anything. She just has her right-gloved hand on the girl’s shoulder next to the outline.
Rachel flinches when the needle touches down and Santana pulls back and asks if she’s hurt her. Rachel takes in a little breath and says, “It’s not that.”
She kind of has to ask, “What is it?”
Rachel shakes her head. “It’s silly.”
“Tell me.”
“It’s just … you’re touching me and…” she blinks her eyes closed and has this little grin on and, god.
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” Rachel says, and then presses herself back into the chair. “Just …”
“Won’t take long, promise,” Santana says. “I, um, I can get out of here and we can get some food.”
“Food,” Rachel says.
“Mhm. It’s ass backward since you’ve already gone down on me but I want to like, feed you and take you somewhere. I think they call that a date,” she says, smirking.
“Is there good takeout by your place?”
Oh, okay.
“The best.”
“I think you should finish now then,” Rachel says turning back toward the mirror and like, Santana just grins at her in it before focusing on finishing this fucking tat.
She has to clear her mind because the worst thing she could do is give her a bad one because she’s too focused on, you know, the business, so she takes a minute to run her fingers over the tracer ink before she touches the gun to Rachel’s skin.
She just keeps her eyes away from the mirror and etches on these cute little music notes that she’s going to want to kiss one day, which…
God. She’s ridiculous.
She finishes pretty quickly and it looks good. The placement is nice and she tells Rachel it’s on the house when she tries to go to the counter and pay Tina and like, whatever, it was tiny and she fucking … she doesn’t know but it’s not a big deal to her. She just wants to get out of here.
So, she does. Grabs the bag and follows Rachel out then pulls Rachel against her body and kisses her because just needs to.
She’s seriously not into PDA but she just, whatever. She does what she wants, okay?
Rachel’s fingers curl around her bicep and she kisses back and says, “Your place,” like a command and Santana likes it.
*
Everything’s a blur after that. You know, not important. There’s the train and the few blocks to her apartment and testing her patience in an elevator with the hottest girl alive but she restrains herself until she’s got the door to her place open and Rachel following her in.
She kisses her once, solidly, and slides her hands under Rachel’s top before pushing it over her head. Then, she’s pulling Rachel toward her by the belt loops close to her zipper and licking into her mouth. Rachel’s arms wrap around her neck and, fuck.
She backs her up against the wall and wastes no time popping the button on Rachel’s jeans loose and pulling down her zipper. Rachel doesn’t seem to mind, just keeps kissing her, hard, with her hands gripping Santana’s hair.
There’s a soft pop when she pulls her mouth away to breathe and Santana takes the moment to push Rachel’s pants and panties off her hips and down her thighs. Rachel kicks them the rest of the way off, squeaks when Santana sets her hand on the back of her thigh and lifts, so she’s open and pressed solidly against the wall, then lets out this low moan when Santana slides her fingers on either side of her clit, then she’s pressing them in.
Rachel’s making the best noises right against her ear as she fills her. She lets out a whine when Santana’s fingers press up and her thumb swipes over her nerves, so Santana does it again and again, until Rachel’s letting her head fall back against the plaster, hips coming down to meet the thrusts of Santana’s fingers.
She licks a path from Rachel’s collarbone to her chin - wetting marks she left just last night - then bites down on her pulse point and curls her tongue around her earlobe. Rachel’s moans are seriously like music, this little chorus of whimpers and gasps. Her nails are dig into Santana’s arm and she just hikes her up a little higher for a better angle.
Rachel starts panting her name when Santana commits her hips to follow through and she just needs her mouth again. She kisses over the swell of Rachel’s breast, lets her tongue slide over the same sweat slicked skin before she kisses her way up to her mouth.
Rachel’s hand scratches over the back of her neck and her nails sink in when Santana twists her wrist just so. The pain registers but she doesn’t mind in the least and she can feel tension building more rapidly in her own body.
Rachel pulls away from her mouth to let out this sexy gasp like she can’t believe what’s happening to her. Then she’s capturing Santana’s bottom lip and sucking, hard, before tugging on it with her teeth.
And Santana just needs … she needs to hear that shaky breath and see the flush that will cover Rachel’s chest and neck when she falls apart.
She wets her lips and gets right by Rachel’s ear, nips at it, because she can, and says, “Just let go baby. I wanna see.”
Rachel’s nodding with her eyes fluttering closed and pulsing around Santana’s fingers when Santana says, “Come,” and rubs her nerves with just right pressure.
It’s quiet, the way Rachel shatters, but it’s present in the way her thighs tremble, her eyes flutter, still heavy-lidded, and her mouth, red and swollen, drops opens.
Santana’s arms fucking hurt but she just rests her forehead against Rachel’s, keeps holding her up and kisses her mouth gently.
She pulls her hand away after working her down slow and sets both hands under Rachel’s ass. Her thighs squeeze around Santana’s waist and then Rachel says her name, just once, laughs lightly and says, “I can’t even… Just…” before kissing her.
“Bed?” Santana asks. Rachel just nods and Santana carries her the few feet to her room, lays her out on her bed. She looks so fucking good on Santana’s red comforter, hair spread out over her pillows. Santana strips out of her clothes because she doesn’t need them then crawls up the bed, settles herself on Rachel’s side, curving a thigh over hers.
Rachel threads their fingers together and says, “So, you are always this good,” like it’s fact. Santana likes it so she kisses her shoulder, looks toward the other wondering if she hurt it pressing her up against the wall like that. Rachel’s apparently really good at reading her because she just shakes her head and says it’s fine then shifts so Santana’s on her back and she’s straddling her thighs.
She looks really fucking good from this angle and Santana folds her arms behind her head and smirks up. Rachel lets out this amused breath and scratches at Santana’s stomach.
“You always good?” Santana asks.
“Let’s find out,” Rachel says.
(She does.)
*
She wakes up both hungry and thirsty and she’s sure it has a lot to do with the beautiful girl in her bed. She tries to slip out of bed quietly because Rachel’s still sleeping but she’s not so successful.
“Come back,” Rachel says, sleepily. Her face is squished against Santana’s pillow and her hair’s spread out over her shoulder and, yeah, she’s still naked, so there’s that. She looks cute though, all small and sleepy.
“M’getting some water and a menu,” she says and Rachel just hums and lets her eyes close again.
Santana grabs two bottles of water and two slices of cinnamon raisin bread because she needs some type of nourishment like, now. She gets the menu for her favorite Thai place a few blocks over.
She decides to pull on a white V-neck and a pair tiny black boxer briefs and grabs a shirt for Rachel, too, after setting everything on her nightstand.
Rachel rolls over as she climbs back into bed and Santana sets the shirt next to her. She sits up and tugs it over her head. It nearly swallows her and she looks hot so Santana lets her fingers slide over the skin of her inner thigh for a moment. There’s a nice little hickey right there, peeking out from under the cotton.
She hands Rachel one of the waters when she leans up on her elbow. The girl thanks her and takes a sip as Santana nibbles on a piece of bread.
“Want?” She asks, holding it out. Rachel says yes and bites it when Santana holds it closer to her mouth. “There’s a Thai place with like, the best spring rolls ever that I always order from. We could order from there,” she says when they’ve finished the first slice.
“Mm. Sounds good,” Rachel says. She’s glad because that’s the only menu she grabbed and she kind of really, really wants Thai.
Santana gives her the menu and lets her look it over. She already knows what she wants. It’s what she always gets. She sips her water as Rachel decides, reaches for the remote of her dock to turn on some music and relaxes against her pillows while the girl decides.
She calls them up minutes later to order pineapple fried rice (extra spicy), for her, and the veggie drunken noodles Rachel points to in the menu. She tacks on an order of spring rolls and mango and sticky rice for them to share then drops her phone back on the nightstand.
Rachel crawls over her body, straddles Santana’s hips and presses a kiss to her lips and like, it kind of just hits her that the girl’s still here. Santana’s usually good with the tap and dash when she’s somewhere else and quick to show the exit when they’re at hers but she doesn’t want her to leave.
Rachel’s fingers are tracing over the lines of her sleeve when she starts to giggle.
“What’s funny?” She asks.
Rachel just smiles at her and says, “This song,” eyes rolling toward Santana’s dock. She starts laughing like, immediately because she wasn’t even paying attention to what she turned on and this isn’t the playlist she meant to start, but Juvenile is giving instructions on backing that ass up and, well, now she has ideas.
She just grins, bites her bottom lip and brings her hand down to smack Rachel’s ass lightly. Rachel squeals and grabs for Santana’s hand, holds it above her head.
“Hey,” Santana says, wrapping her fingers around Rachel’s forearm with her other hand. Rachel just grabs that too (she’s like, surprisingly strong) and holds both of Santana’s hands above her head and gives her this dirty little grin with her hair falling around her face. Maybe her breath hitches.
“If you wanna be on top, you’ve gotta do something while you’re there babe,” she goads and Rachel just rolls her eyes and says, “I plan to.”
*
Um, she fucking hates delivery guys for like, the rest of forever because dude comes knocking just as she’s kissing her way down Rachel’s body and it’s not like she can leave him there until she’s done (she doesn’t plan for this to be quick). So she gets up and grumbles while she signs the receipt but slaps a five in his palm anyway.
They kind of do need to eat, so she puts the food down in her living room on the coffee table, gets Rachel’s pants from the floor near her door and takes them to her though she doesn’t mind eating naked.
“I’m starving,” Rachel says grabbing her panties from inside her jeans. She pulls them on then wraps an elastic from around her wrist into her hair.
Santana says, “I don’t know why,” because she can’t help herself.
“You’re so dirty.”
“And you like it,” she says, like she knows it’s true (obviously), then puts her hands on Rachel’s hips as she walks her to the living room, licks over a tiny little red mark behind the girl’s ear.
*
“I want another one,” Rachel says, when they’re done eating and she’s beneath Santana on the couch, Santana’s thumb stroking the gold star she tatted there. Her leg wraps around Santana’s waist and her fingers play with the hairs at the base of her neck. Santana’s not sure if she means a tattoo or an orgasm.
She can do both.