“It’s still storming.”

“Express the obvious, much?” Santana snarked.

Rachel sighed. “Obviously.”

“Promise we’ll still be friends?”

Santana laughed. “It’s only cheer camp, Rache.”

A touch hot along her neck. Fleeting, secret. 

“Tonight, Berry.”

Rachel shivers.

It had taken longer than she would have preferred, but Santana had finally cornered Rachel in the kitchen. “Bonnibel…” she smirked, hand planted behind Rachel’s shoulder, forearm barely brushing against her pink wig, “If I had to guess, you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Marceline,” Rachel sniffed, standing up straight, eyes barely flickering from Santana’s, “What are you doing? I have some…” Her lips pouted, drawing Santana’s gaze, “Science!” The two Solo cups of questionable alcohol in her hands bobbed up and down, “To disperse between me and the human hero, Finn.”

…So not original, it being Finn Rachel was talking about. If it had been Sam, with his already blond hair, why not? But no, it was Finn.  

Santana scoffed. “My dear princess,” she lowered her voice, adopting her ever-ready arrogant tone, “Finn can wait. No…” Raising her other hand, she stroked a strand of tacky pink hair from Rachel’s neck, thumb resting almost directly over a jumping vein; leaning in, she exposed a fang-filled grin, “You have some red I’d love to drink from your pretty pink face.”

Rachel swallowed. Her tongue darted out, wetting sinfully pink frosted lips. “Marceline?”

Santana fluttered her eyelashes. “Bonnie…” she cajoled, upping her amused smirk, drawing back enough to give Rachel space to breathe, repeating, “Finn can wait.”

Green contacted eyes continued staring up at her. “What Was Missing regardless,” Rachel finally started, a faint smile lifting the corners of her mouth, “Marcy, Finn is waiting for me and I’d rather not keep him so.”

Santana’s jaw flexed. “Bonnibel,” she smiled, sugar sweet, softly tracing up Rachel’s neck, finally curling her fingers around the other girl’s ear and jaw; Rachel’s eyes shut, cheek barely pressing into Santana’s hand, the back of one of her hands coming up to rest against Santana’s arm, “Wouldn’t you rather we be catching up instead?”

A/N: Prompt from apathyempathy, who provided Samchelpez and the first paragraph. Thanks!

 *

Sam felt guilty the instant his eyes lingered on Santana as she bent down to pick up her fallen textbook. He felt guilty, that is, until he caught Rachel doing the very same thing without the slightest hint of regret. If anything… He studied his girlfriend… She looked a little proud.

So he caught her before she left the choir room. “Hey,” he whispered, brushing his lips along her ear, “There something you want to tell me?”

“Sam…” Rachel smiled, a hand coming up to thread through the hair at his nape, pushing up on her tiptoes to reciprocate the kiss to her ear, “I’ve already told you that I’m planning on clearing my weekend to better spend it with you.” Moving her lips along his jaw, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders when he kissed her hungrily.

“Okay,” Sam nodded, “No, I’m very happy to hear that.” He smiled, hands curling around her hips, “I just… Don’t hate me?”

Her brows furrowing, Rachel nodded. “I…’ll give you the benefit of the doubt?”

Nodding again, Sam walked them backwards, retaking his seat he’d stood up from to stop his girlfriend. Pulling Rachel down onto his lap, he smiled lopsidedly, locking his hands back around her waist. “Rache…”

“Yes?”

“You…” Sam sighed. There was no point in trying to be vague. Leaning back against the chair, he tried to put the most neutral expression on his face, “…Look at Santana?”

Rachel’s eyes widened. “I… Don’t know what you’re talking about,” she smiled innocently, bending forward to brush her nose along Sam’s.

“Yes you do.” Raising his eyebrows, Sam frowned slightly at his girlfriend. “I’m not stupid, Rache.”

Rachel’s brow furrowed. “I know that. I never said you were.” Touching Sam’s face, she rubbed her thumb along his cheek. “Sam… What is this about?”

“Santana,” he repeated plainly.

“What about her?”

Sam studied her eyes and face, breathing in slowly, equally as slowly letting it out between his teeth. “Rache…” he sighed, shaking his head slightly and tightening his grip on her waist before smoothing down, along her lower back, “You’re attracted to Santana.”

Rachel’s face went white, then red, her body freezing on Sam’s legs. “What?” she whispered, sitting back to stare at him, already shaking her head, “Sam, I’m not cheating on you.”

“And I never said you were.” Smiling slightly, lopsidedly, Sam settled his arms around her waist. “Rache. I never said you were.”

“Then… Then what?”

Sam sighed, managing to do so without seeming like he was making any concessions. “You’re attracted to her,” he repeated. “Don’t try to deny it,” he continued, smiling consciously, allowing again, “I may be pretty, but I ain’t dumb.”

“I…” Rachel’s words died in her throat, her body tensing even more on Sam’s lap, “I don’t…”

Sam shushed her, pulling her into a slow, firm kiss. “Rachel. Aren’t you curious at all why I’m saying this?”

“Maybe…?” Rachel whispered, shoulders wavering in a small shrug, hands sliding back to curl around his ears, her fingers tangling through his hair, “But I don’t know… I’m not sure…” Her teeth worried her lower lip, forehead pressing into his, “I don’t know if I want to hear this…”

“Why?”

Rachel lowered her eyes, not answering.

Sam studied her. “Rachel…” he lowered his voice, stroking her lower back supportively, “Are you… Wait. Do you…” He shook his head, kissing her again, enfolding her securely in his arms, “Are you afraid I’m going to leave you?

“Or,” he continued before she could say anything, “Are you afraid things can change?”

“…Will change,” Rachel corrected quietly, avoiding his eyes as her arms dropped to rest against his chest. “I just. I love you, Sam. I don’t need anyone else. Do…” Her eyes rose, finally, meeting his again, “Do you?”

Sam kissed her softly, reaffirmingly, his arm sweeping up and down her back. “No, promise. I just.” One corner of his lips quirked up. “It’s obvious you’re attracted to her. And, to be honest, I still am too.”

Though she didn’t look surprised, Rachel let out a deep breath, nodding slowly. Her hands flexed in his hair, spasming before falling to rest on his shoulders, her body lowering to relax into his; her cheek brushed against his neck, and she slipped her arms around his chest, “Sam, I… There’s something I have to tell you.”

The tone of her voice made Sam’s heart trip, a slight frown rising to his lips a second later. He stroked her back, “Yeah?”

“Before… Before I got together with you, I…” Rachel shifted, sighing, fingers coming up to grasp his shirt.

Sam nodded.

“…Slept with Santana.”

A/N: I’m reading over my stuff in the hopes of getting some motivation sparked for anything, and came across this part I’m particularly fond of. Obviously, I decided to go ahead and share it. Because? Why not! I’m allowed.

*

“Santana,” Rachel started in that irritating tone that gave the impression she was better than Santana and knew it, “I understand that you may feel unwilling to admit that you have to rely on someone – ”

What!?

“ – but really, I have no problem with keeping you company, as well as I’m sure my father would not be adverse to offering you a ride if the weather turns worse as it seems to be threatening to do, causing Triple A to not be able to safely come pick you up.”

Santana’s eyebrow twitched, and she stared at Rachel.

Taking her silence as acceptance, Rachel smiled broadly and clapped her hands together. “Great! We can take this time to discuss song selections for when school starts up again. While I see no problem with all the contemporary pop hits we’ve been doing recently, I believe that hasn’t been doing as much as it could for stretching the vocal spectrum of our group and achieving optimal effect.”

“No, no, hold up!” Shaking her head and waving her hand in the air to cut the small girl off, Santana glared at her. “I’m not sure where you’re getting this shit from, but I don’t want to discuss anything with you. Especially nothing that has to do with singing. Got it?”

“But Santana, I’m sure we could find a song that would compliment your vocal strengths and help you work in areas you’re lacking. While not on par with my own voice, of course, but no less worthy of mention, I’m sure with time and practice, you’d become a stronger singer – ”

“Berry!” Santana growled, taking a step forward to physically invade Rachel’s space, “I swear to god that if you do not turn around and march your freakishly tiny body into that theatre and leave me the fuck alone, you will not survive long enough to see the next glee class.”

Either from stubbornness or fear, Rachel didn’t move, her mouth snapping shut with a click and head tilting up. If she wasn’t so angry, Santana would have given her props. Instead, the lack of response only made her blood boil. “Alright, that’s it – ”

“Santana,” Rachel spoke up quietly, effectively cutting her off mid-rant, “Is something bothering you?”

Read More

The first time Santana and Rachel were alone after the Sectionals, “I believe you,” comment, Santana ____________.

Staring at the mess of papers on the table in front of her, Rachel felt like ripping all the hair out of her scalp. The only thing stopping her was the knowledge that would damage her image, as well as make even more of a problem for herself, so, after a couple of deep breaths and whispered prayers to the late Sarah Bernhardt, she managed to force the urge to subside.

“You look like you’re exhausting yourself,” Santana, clad in a tank top and her pajama pants, used as a greeting, walking up behind her to slide her arms around her neck. “Stop doing that.”

“What, the wedding invitations or exhausting myself?”

“Let’s go with both.” Santana pressed a sound kiss against Rachel’s cheek, sliding around to take over her lap. She settled in comfortably. “C’mon,” she pulled Rachel’s hands forward to circle her waist, smirking and raising an eyebrow, “I know a smokin’ hot mama who wants to have some fun.”

Rachel grinned, shaking her head. “You do, huh?” she leaned forward, bumping her nose against Santana’s, “Do I know this ‘hot mama’?”

“If you’re who I think you are, then you’re marrying the smokin’ hot mama.” Santana’s lips parted in an easy smile, her eyes darkening as they met Rachel’s. “Relax, Rache,” she breathed, leaning in to kiss Rachel’s cheek again, caressing her neck and upper back, fingers playing with strands of her hair, “It’s not worth it. Everyone who’s anyone already knows about the wedding.”

“But – ”

“When, and where, what to bring, yadda yadda.” Curling her fingers around the back of her fiancée’s head, Santana pulled her into a deep, melting kiss. Their chests pressed together and her waist tight and solid under Rachel’s hands, Santana’s hair fell to tickle Rachel’s shoulders. “Later,” she cajoled, proudly drinking in Rachel’s shivers and shifting closer, “Now’s our fun time.”

A soft moan leaving her mouth, Rachel swallowed, lifting her chin to brush her lips against Santana’s hovering barely a centimeter away. “You’re not playing fair.” She pulled back, cheeks dimpling as she bit her swollen lower lip, looking at Santana from under her eyelashes.

Santana kissed her again. “I guess that’s one thing you’ll have to get used to when we’re married,” she husked.

Rachel’s fingers traced the waistband of Santana’s pajamas. “Believe me, Santana,” she promised in between deepening, fiery kisses, body opening to accept Santana’s, “That is one thing I am very, very much looking forward to.”

A/N: This is just a silly little entry. XD

*

Rachel’s stunning.

Brittany and Santana can’t stand it.

“That should be us,” Santana hisses, the constricting of her fingers around her Solo cup making an audible crackling noise.

Brittany, snuggled into Santana’s shoulder from behind, arms slung low across her waist, nods, pouting. “She’s just…” she sighs, digging her chin into Santana’s shoulder, “So lickable. I want to taste her berry.”

A quick-abrupt indrawn laugh makes Santana’s body waver. “Mmm…” she hums, lips quirking up, fingers stroking her cup, “I want to taste her berries, too.”

“She has more than one?”

Santana wraps her free arm around Brittany’s. “Every girl has more than one, B.”

“Oh.” Sounding thoughtful, Brittany squeezes Santana, lifting her shoulders in a soft shrug, “Cool. Means it’ll be easier to share.”

“Thank god for that.” Santana locks her gaze back across the room where Rachel is sitting between Finn’s legs, laughing and glowing at something Puck and Sam are pantomiming. It’s just so… Horribly adorable. And heterosexual. Running her tongue along her front teeth, Santana settles back into her girlfriend’s body. “That totes should be us.”

Brittany nods again. “We need to just get her alone,” she says with conviction, swaying her body into Santana’s, idly picking up the beat of the music playing over the loudspeakers, “No one can say no to our sweet lady kisses.”

Santana’s mouth drops open. “You’re a genius, baby!” she smirks, hugging Brittany’s arm while throwing back the rest of her drink before tossing it at the back of Artie’s head; disentangling just enough to grab Brittany’s hand, she pulls the blonde over to the sound system.

“Well, duh.” Grinning, Brittany follows along, “But, wha’d I do?”

“Just wait.” Flashing out, rotating the volume dial down in a quick, violent movement, Santana barely waits for everyone’s eyes to look over before her smirk grows even bigger and she’s propping her free hand on her hip. “What say we make this party not god-awful boring anymore?” she says arrogantly, throwing her hand up, pushing her hair behind her shoulder, “And gets some Seven Minutes in Heavens on?

“Of course,” she meets Rachel’s gaze a minute later as they’re all gathering on one side of the room, Brittany warm and giggling against her side, hand sliding up and down her abs, Santana’s own hand held suggestively on the blonde’s shoulder, stroking along her neck, “Anyone who gets me or Britts?”

Rachel’s eyes shine. Her lips part in a curious smile.

“Gets the both of us. And Berry?”

“Yeah, Rachel?” Brittany pipes in, snagging her hand in the loose fabric of Rachel’s blouse, teasingly tugging on it.

Rachel tilts her head to the side, eyes flitting back and forth between both girls. Her smile is still open, wide, bright, “Yes?”

“Something tells me you’re gonna be the first… Lucky… Recipient.”

Laughing, bidding the person on the other end of the phone a good bye, Santana slid the door to the studio closed. “Hey,” she grinned, spotting Rachel on the couch; slipping her phone into her pocket and unwinding her scarf from her neck, she leaned down to kiss Rachel’s cheek, “You’re home early. How was class?”

She smelled like smoke and cheap perfume.

Rachel closed her eyes. “It was fine,” she managed, opening them again when Santana moved towards the kitchen, waiting until she was right at the threshold to rise and follow her in, “We’re still working on the showcase.” She wondered if Santana could hear the slight tremble in her voice.

Grabbing a bottled water from the refrigerator, Santana picked up another one a second later when Rachel didn’t object to her raised eyebrow. “July still ridin’ your ass?” she smirked, unscrewing both waters before handing Rachel’s to her.

“Something like that.” Picking at the label, Rachel watched Santana drink, her eyes starting to mist. “Santana…”