FIC: He's Just Like Water
Title: He's Just Like Water
Character(s): Santana Lopez. Noah Puckerman.
Words: 1906.
Rating: NC-17.
Disclaimer: I don't owns the glee.
Summary: Combination of two prompts from the santana_lopez drabble meme. The prompts are this photo and Santana/Puck + water balloons as prompted by smc_27 and nicalyse respectively. Title from Lauryn Hill's "Just Like Water".
If she were Rachel Berry she’d be pissed right now. She’s not, so, instead she’s fucking amused, because Puck just pelted her in the chest with the largest water balloon ever and her cheeks are flush and apparently she can hit a high F even when she isn’t singing. Santana can’t stop laughing, because it’s Berry and she actually started cursing Puck out. He just grins all smug and launches another balloon at the back of Finn’s head. She’s almost positive she heard him say, “Derp.”
“Lo,” Puck calls to her, which makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in a good way. She might be using him (and he’s totally using her too) to keep from having to deal with her feelings for Britt, but he seriously does turn on her on and the sex is good, really good. “Can you like take a break from cracking up to help me get these idiots?”
She just rolls her eyes because that’s her thing and scoops up a pink water balloon and launches it at Quinn. Bingo. It smacks her in the shoulder and she shrieks dropping her plate. That’s for fucking telling Coach about my boobs, she thinks as she smirks and dips her long thin fingers back into the bucket.
She throws the next balloon, a big yellow one, at Brittany because she knows Britt’s not a pussy and won’t yelp or cry like the rest of the nerds. When it makes contact with one of those long legs of hers she just laughs and talks about it reminding her of a duck.
“Fucking, Lo,” Puck says grinning over at her as Sam dives out of the way of a green balloon obviously quoting some nerdy ass sci-fi shit in a weird voice, “Your aim is perfect. Double team, Berry?”
His eyebrows quirk in this way that makes her want to straddle him, but she just shakes it off and reaches for the biggest balloon she can find. It’s red and Puck is more of an asshole than she thought he was because the balloon is about as big as Lord Haulass, Brittany’s scary cat.
Puck grabs another large balloon and they look at each other, yell “Finish her!” ala Mortal Combat like they’re in fourth grade again and launch them at Rachel who shrieks, but doesn’t actually move out the way. She’s engulfed in a big splash of water and plastic and, seriously, Santana thinks she might die from her laughter.
She fucking loves shit like this. Bro moments with Puck have always been her favorite even when he’s pissing her off or she’s bitching him out. She’s the only chick who would help assault the Glee club on their beach weekend with water balloons and he’s the only dude who wouldn’t be too pussy to ask her.
They finally stop after Kurt gives a speech about his ruined Marc Jacob’s something - even though who wears shit they actually like to the beach? And they’re both tired and a lot tipsy from the shots they took before the assault started.
Puck’s pumping this giant Super Soaker she distinctly remembers him getting at his sixth birthday when his dad was still around. It’s massive and bright green, blue and orange. She’s so caught up in the fact that she even remembers him getting it and that he’s been part of her life that long that she doesn’t even realize he’s aiming it at her and not some dork until its too late.
“Fuck you,” she says easily, because that’s sort of how they communicate. She’s not really mad at all. She’s dressed in a pair of cut-off shorts that Brittany tie-dyed for her (they’re pink and purple with a studded pocket, sort of sexy bad-ass) and a white bandeau bikini, so getting wet isn’t a bad thing.
He licks his lips and pumps the water gun again and she starts chasing him down the shore as he sprays her mercilessly. She finally catches him and promptly snatches the gun away but it’s fucking empty so she drops it and tackles him instead. It’s really innocent and hilarious until it’s not.
They’re really far up the beach because being a fucking delinquent has taught Noah Puckerman to haul ass, fast, and the suns going down. She’s really giggly and he’s super hands-on, tickling her sides with no mercy even though she’s on top of him. She claws at his shoulder with her own all shrugged up to keep him from getting her neck.
“Puck,” she breathes, in a voice a lot lower than she intended.
“Not until you say uncle,” he breathes back and for a moment it feels like the times she rough housed with him and Finn in elementary school, but this is so not the same because she never got wet from that. She didn’t even know what wet was then.
“Uncle.”
Her hands are stroking more than clawing and his tickling has turned into strumming at the exposed flesh on her hips with the attention he gives his guitar. His knees are drawn up and hers are buried in the wet sand on either side of his waist.
This is the shit that confuses her even more, because she knows what she feels for Britt, but Puck always makes her feel like this. No other guy has, but Puck does it so easily. She knows its not love, but lust feels really good too, okay?
She’s panting and she’s not sure if it’s because of the running and tickling or the way his fingers are digging into her side. She tosses her hair over her shoulder and extends her neck to regulate her breathing, but he takes that as a sign and leans up. He drags his open mouth along her neck before sinking his teeth lightly into the space where her neck and shoulder meet. She actually shudders. He knows all her spots so he bites down again, she hisses and her hips rock involuntarily.
“Out here?” She asks, but it’s not because she’s opposed. They’ve done a lot of wild shit in crazy places and honestly it’s sort of sexy. She feels his chin nod against her collarbone just as his tongue snakes out, up her neck and along the shell of her ear. She likes attention so she lets him lavish her in it, her hips rocking down as he grips her waist.
“Shit, Lo,” he says when she sucks on his chest. She knows it’ll leave a mark. He smells like ocean, tequila and this soap he’s obsessed with and she fucking loves it.
His hand slides all the way up her body and into the hair at the base of her neck. He grips it, pulls her head back slightly and crashes their lips together like he’s been waiting to do it all day. She knows she has and if the urgency that his tongue has started to lick against hers is any indication, he has too. Her nails claw at his chest as their tongues dance around hungrily. His mouth tastes like tequila and limes and a hint of mint.
Everything about Puck is so familiar and comfortable. Her body just curves into his, one hand rubbing his abdomen the other fingering the hair in his ‘hawk. She moans when his tongue glides across the roof her mouth and her hips roll involuntarily.
He pulls back with this smug look that she should find offensive, but doesn’t. His thumbs curve up under the elastic of her bandeau the way they curl into her panties before he pulls them off. The thought makes her wetter and she shuts her eyes as he pulls it over her head and then wraps his arms around her to press them together. He looks down at their bodies melding and smirks.
“So hot,” he mutters, his ears ghosting the shell of her ear. His arms rub up and down her back and she shivers. Sometimes she likes it when they take their time. His hand moves around her body to cup one of her breast. His thumb presses flat against it and her back arches when he tweaks it between his fingers. His legs drop as the waves climb higher up the shore and cover his legs and wet the bottom of her shorts.
“Let me see how wet you are,” he says grinning, “Before the waves fuck it up.”
His hand is in her shorts and over her bottoms in seconds. Suddenly taking their time does not seem like an option because she wants him inside her. Santana’s hips buck as his eyes darken, “You’re fucking soaked and I know I didn’t aim the water gun down here,” he says smugly.
“Fuck you.”
She means it this time. He unbuckles her shorts and she stands to pull them and her bottoms down. She kicks them aside and drops back into his lap. He’s already eased his own trunks down, a golden square tucked between his middle and index finger. The waves lap at her back and she rolls the condom over his length and strokes him more than necessary.
She hisses as she eases herself down. He’s so thick and everything about him feels so much better from this angle.
“Lo,” he says huskily. It’s throaty and damn near needy. He knows exactly how to stroke her and her ego. She stalls and he holds her hips, “Move.”
She does what he says because she wants to feel him not because he told her to. She rocks her hips and swivels in a figure eight and he groans and holds on tighter. His head dips to take her breast into his mouth and his hips thrust to meet hers. She gasps because he hits that spot and his tongue is doing just the right thing on her nipple. Her back arches and he takes that moment of stillness to surge up again before he rolls them over.
“Fuck,” she hisses. He pushes one of her legs back so her knee is bent over his shoulder and resting on hers, the other wraps around his waist. His head drops into the crook of her neck and she knows she’ll have more than a few marks when it’s all done. He’s grinding into her with slow circles but she wants him to fuck her, hard, because the tension is building in her belly and she just needs it.
She doesn’t have to say anything because it’s Puck and he just knows. He pulls out and snaps his hips forward. He’s so deep and she doesn’t even mind that it hurts because the pleasure is outweighing the pain. Water splashes up around them with every thrust and she has to bite her lip to keep from being too loud. He groans when he feels her flutter against him.
“Venir,” he says into her ear. Her eyes roll back because damn he sounds sexy using the Spanish she taught him even it’s just the one word he actually remembers. It works. Her nails dig deeper into his shoulders and drag down his back and he thrusts through her orgasm until his own takes him.
“Shit, Lo,” he says when they’re both breathing semi-regularly. He kisses her temple like he always does when they’re finished and she rolls her eyes like she doesn’t like it (she sort of loves it.)
Character(s): Santana Lopez. Noah Puckerman.
Words: 1906.
Rating: NC-17.
Disclaimer: I don't owns the glee.
Summary: Combination of two prompts from the santana_lopez drabble meme. The prompts are this photo and Santana/Puck + water balloons as prompted by smc_27 and nicalyse respectively. Title from Lauryn Hill's "Just Like Water".
If she were Rachel Berry she’d be pissed right now. She’s not, so, instead she’s fucking amused, because Puck just pelted her in the chest with the largest water balloon ever and her cheeks are flush and apparently she can hit a high F even when she isn’t singing. Santana can’t stop laughing, because it’s Berry and she actually started cursing Puck out. He just grins all smug and launches another balloon at the back of Finn’s head. She’s almost positive she heard him say, “Derp.”
“Lo,” Puck calls to her, which makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in a good way. She might be using him (and he’s totally using her too) to keep from having to deal with her feelings for Britt, but he seriously does turn on her on and the sex is good, really good. “Can you like take a break from cracking up to help me get these idiots?”
She just rolls her eyes because that’s her thing and scoops up a pink water balloon and launches it at Quinn. Bingo. It smacks her in the shoulder and she shrieks dropping her plate. That’s for fucking telling Coach about my boobs, she thinks as she smirks and dips her long thin fingers back into the bucket.
She throws the next balloon, a big yellow one, at Brittany because she knows Britt’s not a pussy and won’t yelp or cry like the rest of the nerds. When it makes contact with one of those long legs of hers she just laughs and talks about it reminding her of a duck.
“Fucking, Lo,” Puck says grinning over at her as Sam dives out of the way of a green balloon obviously quoting some nerdy ass sci-fi shit in a weird voice, “Your aim is perfect. Double team, Berry?”
His eyebrows quirk in this way that makes her want to straddle him, but she just shakes it off and reaches for the biggest balloon she can find. It’s red and Puck is more of an asshole than she thought he was because the balloon is about as big as Lord Haulass, Brittany’s scary cat.
Puck grabs another large balloon and they look at each other, yell “Finish her!” ala Mortal Combat like they’re in fourth grade again and launch them at Rachel who shrieks, but doesn’t actually move out the way. She’s engulfed in a big splash of water and plastic and, seriously, Santana thinks she might die from her laughter.
She fucking loves shit like this. Bro moments with Puck have always been her favorite even when he’s pissing her off or she’s bitching him out. She’s the only chick who would help assault the Glee club on their beach weekend with water balloons and he’s the only dude who wouldn’t be too pussy to ask her.
They finally stop after Kurt gives a speech about his ruined Marc Jacob’s something - even though who wears shit they actually like to the beach? And they’re both tired and a lot tipsy from the shots they took before the assault started.
Puck’s pumping this giant Super Soaker she distinctly remembers him getting at his sixth birthday when his dad was still around. It’s massive and bright green, blue and orange. She’s so caught up in the fact that she even remembers him getting it and that he’s been part of her life that long that she doesn’t even realize he’s aiming it at her and not some dork until its too late.
“Fuck you,” she says easily, because that’s sort of how they communicate. She’s not really mad at all. She’s dressed in a pair of cut-off shorts that Brittany tie-dyed for her (they’re pink and purple with a studded pocket, sort of sexy bad-ass) and a white bandeau bikini, so getting wet isn’t a bad thing.
He licks his lips and pumps the water gun again and she starts chasing him down the shore as he sprays her mercilessly. She finally catches him and promptly snatches the gun away but it’s fucking empty so she drops it and tackles him instead. It’s really innocent and hilarious until it’s not.
They’re really far up the beach because being a fucking delinquent has taught Noah Puckerman to haul ass, fast, and the suns going down. She’s really giggly and he’s super hands-on, tickling her sides with no mercy even though she’s on top of him. She claws at his shoulder with her own all shrugged up to keep him from getting her neck.
“Puck,” she breathes, in a voice a lot lower than she intended.
“Not until you say uncle,” he breathes back and for a moment it feels like the times she rough housed with him and Finn in elementary school, but this is so not the same because she never got wet from that. She didn’t even know what wet was then.
“Uncle.”
Her hands are stroking more than clawing and his tickling has turned into strumming at the exposed flesh on her hips with the attention he gives his guitar. His knees are drawn up and hers are buried in the wet sand on either side of his waist.
This is the shit that confuses her even more, because she knows what she feels for Britt, but Puck always makes her feel like this. No other guy has, but Puck does it so easily. She knows its not love, but lust feels really good too, okay?
She’s panting and she’s not sure if it’s because of the running and tickling or the way his fingers are digging into her side. She tosses her hair over her shoulder and extends her neck to regulate her breathing, but he takes that as a sign and leans up. He drags his open mouth along her neck before sinking his teeth lightly into the space where her neck and shoulder meet. She actually shudders. He knows all her spots so he bites down again, she hisses and her hips rock involuntarily.
“Out here?” She asks, but it’s not because she’s opposed. They’ve done a lot of wild shit in crazy places and honestly it’s sort of sexy. She feels his chin nod against her collarbone just as his tongue snakes out, up her neck and along the shell of her ear. She likes attention so she lets him lavish her in it, her hips rocking down as he grips her waist.
“Shit, Lo,” he says when she sucks on his chest. She knows it’ll leave a mark. He smells like ocean, tequila and this soap he’s obsessed with and she fucking loves it.
His hand slides all the way up her body and into the hair at the base of her neck. He grips it, pulls her head back slightly and crashes their lips together like he’s been waiting to do it all day. She knows she has and if the urgency that his tongue has started to lick against hers is any indication, he has too. Her nails claw at his chest as their tongues dance around hungrily. His mouth tastes like tequila and limes and a hint of mint.
Everything about Puck is so familiar and comfortable. Her body just curves into his, one hand rubbing his abdomen the other fingering the hair in his ‘hawk. She moans when his tongue glides across the roof her mouth and her hips roll involuntarily.
He pulls back with this smug look that she should find offensive, but doesn’t. His thumbs curve up under the elastic of her bandeau the way they curl into her panties before he pulls them off. The thought makes her wetter and she shuts her eyes as he pulls it over her head and then wraps his arms around her to press them together. He looks down at their bodies melding and smirks.
“So hot,” he mutters, his ears ghosting the shell of her ear. His arms rub up and down her back and she shivers. Sometimes she likes it when they take their time. His hand moves around her body to cup one of her breast. His thumb presses flat against it and her back arches when he tweaks it between his fingers. His legs drop as the waves climb higher up the shore and cover his legs and wet the bottom of her shorts.
“Let me see how wet you are,” he says grinning, “Before the waves fuck it up.”
His hand is in her shorts and over her bottoms in seconds. Suddenly taking their time does not seem like an option because she wants him inside her. Santana’s hips buck as his eyes darken, “You’re fucking soaked and I know I didn’t aim the water gun down here,” he says smugly.
“Fuck you.”
She means it this time. He unbuckles her shorts and she stands to pull them and her bottoms down. She kicks them aside and drops back into his lap. He’s already eased his own trunks down, a golden square tucked between his middle and index finger. The waves lap at her back and she rolls the condom over his length and strokes him more than necessary.
She hisses as she eases herself down. He’s so thick and everything about him feels so much better from this angle.
“Lo,” he says huskily. It’s throaty and damn near needy. He knows exactly how to stroke her and her ego. She stalls and he holds her hips, “Move.”
She does what he says because she wants to feel him not because he told her to. She rocks her hips and swivels in a figure eight and he groans and holds on tighter. His head dips to take her breast into his mouth and his hips thrust to meet hers. She gasps because he hits that spot and his tongue is doing just the right thing on her nipple. Her back arches and he takes that moment of stillness to surge up again before he rolls them over.
“Fuck,” she hisses. He pushes one of her legs back so her knee is bent over his shoulder and resting on hers, the other wraps around his waist. His head drops into the crook of her neck and she knows she’ll have more than a few marks when it’s all done. He’s grinding into her with slow circles but she wants him to fuck her, hard, because the tension is building in her belly and she just needs it.
She doesn’t have to say anything because it’s Puck and he just knows. He pulls out and snaps his hips forward. He’s so deep and she doesn’t even mind that it hurts because the pleasure is outweighing the pain. Water splashes up around them with every thrust and she has to bite her lip to keep from being too loud. He groans when he feels her flutter against him.
“Venir,” he says into her ear. Her eyes roll back because damn he sounds sexy using the Spanish she taught him even it’s just the one word he actually remembers. It works. Her nails dig deeper into his shoulders and drag down his back and he thrusts through her orgasm until his own takes him.
“Shit, Lo,” he says when they’re both breathing semi-regularly. He kisses her temple like he always does when they’re finished and she rolls her eyes like she doesn’t like it (she sort of loves it.)