Girl's Night Out cont.

[acontrollist]

[Rachel's way too drunk to care that the cabby can probably see her flatten her back against the inside of the door of the cab and pull Noah in for a long kiss. And he probably hears the zipper of her jeans when she reaches between her and Noah to undo them. She was promised fingers and they're way too tight for him to get anywhere near the crux of her thighs if they're done up.]

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[but_idontlie]

[Physics, baby. He twists his body and pulls her into his lap, sucking a bruise against the curve of her neck and raising purple and red pinpricks there. The palm of his hand curves against her concave belly, slipping against her abdominal muscles and into her unzipped jeans, finding the silk of her panties and dipping between the fabric and soft satiny skin. Yes, he loves this. Fuck, yes. He skids the long tip of his middle finger through her folds, gathering slickness, and quickly draws it out of her pants and upward, popping it into his mouth and sucking the flavor from his fingertip blissfully.]

Fuck, you're good. M'gonna take you when we get home.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

Oh fuck, Noah-... [She writhing, trying to get his finger deep into her the way it seems he's heading, but when he pulls back she whimpers, tucking her face against his neck. Bent that way, he can't see her lift her hand and let it take it's place, too drunk, too impatient and way too turned on to ignore the throbbing between her thighs.] Like it when you take me...all deep and hard...

[but_idontlie]

[When he thrusts his hand back into her jeans and panties, he grunts in displeasure; her hand has replaced his own, and he is not pleased about it. Sure, it's hot, but it's where he wants his hand to be. He doesn't like that. He takes his hand, sliding his palm over the muscles of her abdomen and up, now, sliding against her ribs and the cup of her bra. His free hand slides around between their bodies, flicking the closure of her bra open with practiced ease, and it loosens in his hand. Both hands find her breasts, fingers circling her nipples, stroking and pinching as he rolls his hips beneath her and groans her name against the curve of her neck.]

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

[She whimpers against his ear, riding his hand as he cups her breasts. The reason she was so strict about no hands on her tits when she was in highschool? Because they're really fucking sensitive. The first time they had drunk sex after the 'contract' was drawn up, she came the first time with just his hands on her breasts, a couple of naughty words in her ear and one long, slow grind through their jeans.]

[The cabbie probably speeds to get them to their apartment, because it only takes them both about 15 minutes to get home and when the cab stops, Rachel pops up, pulling her hand out of her pants and stumbling out of the cab. Thankfully, the pants are tight enough that they don't fall even though they're unbuttoned.] Home! Noah, home! Upstairs, bed.

[but_idontlie]

[He'll be just as happy if he can get her to come now, in the back seat of the cab. She's fucking hot when she comes, and her breasts are warm and lush against his cupped hands, and she writhes on his lap, against her own fingers as the cabbie speeds (he can see the buildings going by fucking quickly between the stoplights) to their building. Uh, yeah. He yanks his hands from Rachel's body and fumbles for his wallet while Rachel gathers herself, paying the cabbie and hooking an arm tightly around her waist as soon as his feet find the sidewalk.] Home. [He agrees. He's completely sober and she's wasted, and this is yet another time where he's fucking thankful that he insisted that they draw up that drunk contract. He's made use of it more times than he can count, because his girl can't hold her liquor. She won't leave him any messes to clean up in the morning, but she'll probably wake up with a killer hangover, and he might end up carrying her up the stairs.]

[Actually, he reaches the door to their building; once they both step inside, he bends down, grinning.] Up. Piggyback ride. Stay the fuck on, I'm gonna carry you.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

[Rachel sucks at drinking. And she's had a lot tonight. She never barfs, but her head is always killing her in the morning. Thankfully, thanks to their perma-stock of bananas, Gatorade and a boyfriend whose hands stay between her legs in the face of anything short of excretion of bodily fluids or threats, she usually recovers pretty quickly. She'll be singing showtunes by 2pm.] Piggy! [She giggles and wraps her arms around his neck, wrapping her legs around his waist.] You're not a piggy. You're a blowafish!

[That keeps her snickering the two floors to their apartment, but as soon as the door opens she seems to forget what's funny. But she does remember a certain promise. She barely makes it past the front door before she's shimmying out of her jeans, white lace thong bright against her tan skin and black top. Drunk!Rachel has no shame.]

[but_idontlie]

You gonna blow me? [He challenges, standing and hopping, shifting her upward to get a better grip before he starts climbing, one step at a time. It really is simpler to do it this way than to trust that Rachel can make it up the stairs, and he's got his girl rubbing up against him and her hands all over him, and he really can't argue with that, even if she is calling him a blowafish.]

[She slides from his back and ditches the jeans, dressed in black and white and so much tanned Berry skin, and fuck he loves it and pushes her against the door, pinning her against the wood and reaching for his belt buckle.] Gonna fuck you. [He mutters.] Gonna start fucking you here 'cuz I can't fucking wait and then I'm gonna fuck you hard in our bed, fuckin' doggy-style. Gonna fuckin' scream my name. Who do you come for?

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

Tomorrow. For protein! [That doesn't make any sense at all to anyone but Rachel, but that's okay because she just promised Noah a blowjob and that's all that really matters. He'll probably have to wait, of course, but Berry delivers, always!]

[He presses her against the door and she wobbles a bit, reaching down to pull off her boots and kick them across the wooden entryway. Sober, she'd be complaining about scuffing but she doesn't really care right now, pushing off her jeans and thong so that she can wrap her legs around his waist when the time comes. Taking his hand, he presses it between her legs and takes over the work on his pants, unbuckling them and pushing them over his hips (commando, as always, fuck yes) and stroking him once, twice, before she grabs his hips and pulls him forward.] You. Come so hard for you, always, always...

[but_idontlie]

I'll give you a protein shake, babe. [He smirks as he walks, twisting his head to the side to kiss her bare arm. Drunk Rachel is so fucking hot, so fucking funny, that he can't help but laugh at the things that she says. They don't make sense, not really, but he's been around her for long enough, and he understands her to the point where their nonverbal communication is actually pretty damn good, and he understands what she's saying right now. Hell yeah, he'll give her all the protein she wants tomorrow. He loves his girl and the way she keeps her promises.]

[She ditches the thong; it flies into a pile with the boots and jeans, and hey, all she wears is that gorgeous shirt, and it happens to lend a little more mystery to the thing. He can roll with that. His hand slides between her thighs with a groan, her hands working hurriedly (how the fuck is she so good at this? she's wasted) on the buckle of his belt and the button and zipper of his jeans, dragging it down and his length springing free and into her hands. He groans. Fuck, yes, he wants. He wants now, and she wants to give it to him, his fingers continuously stroking her without dipping inside her body 'cause he knows that if he pushes them into her, he'll want to finish her off with his fingers first, and he doesn't have the fucking patience for that right now. Neither of them has it. She pulls him forward, he pulls his hand free and grabs her thighs, and hauls her up, pinning her against the wall. She knows what to do; it's always her job to take him in hand and guide him whenever they fuck like this against the wall.]

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

[She loses herself for a bit, just grinding down against his fingers. He almost always gets her off first, whether with his mouth or his tongue and while it always feels so good (and she's soaked, hips following the stroke of his fingers effortlessly), she doesn't want that tonight. She wants him in her, hard and fast and deep. She wants it to burn a little, wants bruises in the morning. She always wants it a little harder when she's drunk. She's not coordinated enough to try the whole wrapping both legs around his waist thing, so she lifts one leg high on his waist to give them both the leverage they need, angling him up and shoving his hands away, pressing the blunt tip of his cock up against where she's spread open and wet for him. If he wants both legs up, he can take care of it himself but right now she just wants him in.]

[but_idontlie]

[She shoves his hands away from between her thighs, grabs his cock, and lines him up; he grabs the backs of her thighs and lifts her at the same time as he rises on his toes, burying himself deep inside her with no hesitation. He starts a quick pace, nudging Rachel's thighs with his elbows in encouragement, wanting them around his waist. (SO fucking sexy.) She's drunk and he's sober and he's always one for boundary-pushing, and maybe tonight is a night for boundary-pushing, and when he fucks her this time he'll wait until he recovers and then he'll ask her if she wants to try anything and then they can do it. But, first, he's going to fuck her until she screams his name, because he's already moaning hers against her throat and biting against the curve of skin between her neck and shoulder.]

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

[Yeah, it would be best if he fucked her first 'cause he's not getting one coherent thought out of her right now. She claws at his back through his t-shirt, pressing her heels to his lower back as he fucks her hard, fast. Her tailbone will hurt like a bitch tomorrow with the way it's knocking back against the door but she's had worse and right now she actually kind of fucking loves it, tilting her head back as he bites at her neck and wailing his name. It doesn't take much to get her going when she's this drunk, the backs of the tops of her thighs already starting to get a little damp with sweat and moisture from between her thighs.] Noah, No'-...baby, fuck me...

[but_idontlie]

[She'll have bruises everywhere after this, on her tailbone and the backs of her thighs, on her hipbones, nips of red and light purple along the ridges of bone near her neck. She begs for more, and his hands yank her back against him as he pants against her throat.] Fuck. Want you, babe. Need you. S'fucking good, Rach. Love you.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

[She may complain tomorrow. And when she goes in for rehearsal on Monday she'll have to pile on the stage makeup. But if her director complains, she'll-...well. She'll apologize. But she'll think about telling her to try letting Noah Puckerman fuck her and being coherent enough to tell him "No hickeys" at the same time. It's a feat that not even Rachel Berry has mastered.]

[He yanks her back and she can feel it, his fingertips digging into the thin, sensitive skin of her hips and it makes her cry out, breath catching in her throat as her orgasm catches her off guard. Even drunk, Rachel is as sentimental as always and "I love you" is pretty much the key to sending her flying apart underneath him-or between him and the wall in this case.]

[but_idontlie]

[He doesn't outright give her hickeys. If he had clearance to do that, every inch of her skin would be marked. Her skin is merely marred with stubble burn, or light bites, crescent marks of teeth where he wasn't as gentle as he should have been. But they'll fade, and he's a pro now at helping to apply her makeup, and he'll kiss the marks when they're both sober in the morning.]

[He fucks her through her orgasm, slamming her against the wall; he drags her down to the floor even as she convulses around him and pounds into her as she lies on her back on the hardwood panels, his kneecaps digging into the wood as he pants above her before burying himself deep inside her with a guttural howl of her name. That was fucking intense.]

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

[Intense. Drunk sex is always intense between them, whether it gets really rough or really sentimental.] Ow. [She giggles, when she drops her head back against the wood and wiggles a little underneath him. Reaching around his hips, she tugs his t-shirt away and tosses it somewhere, doing the same with her own shirt before she tucks her face against his neck.] Better.

[but_idontlie]

[He snuggles against Rachel, grunting in displeasure as she shuffles him around, rolling him to one side to reach for his t-shirt and pull it from his head, shifting his body to the side to do the same for herself.] Mmmmmm. Bed?

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

Bed. [She nods.] Gonna fuck me, again? [She scratches her fingers through his hair again, sitting up to spur him into moving.] Wanna scream some more.

[but_idontlie]

[He grunts again, groaning as she sits up beneath him; he leans to one side, nearly falling against the floor. He is not pleased by the sudden movement.] Yeah. Gimme a couple. Wanna love on you first.

[He finally manages to roll to his stomach, pushing up on his hands and knees before rising shakily to his feet and reaching down to pull Rachel up and against his chest, swaying unsteadily.] Come on. Bed... Gotta get you shit for your hangover. [The one she doesn't have. Yet.]

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

[She giggles and hums, nuzzling against the crook of his neck.] Love-a dub dub, Noah~ [She sing songs, fingers dancing up and down his spine.]

[When he pulls her up, she stumbles forward a little, wrapping her arms around his neck and pouting.] Nooo...don't leave. Stay wif me. [She dances back to the bedroom (because even drunk she can stil do that), naked ass wiggling as she heads inside, flopping down on the bed.] Noaaaaah...come t'bed.

[but_idontlie]

[For a second, he's tempted to ask her if she wants to get in the tub - you know, Rub a dub dub - but she's drunk and a drunk Rachel makes war on gravity. One or both of them is likely to end up with a head injury if they stand in the shower while under the influence of alcohol.]

[Although, despite his occupation as a law enforcement officer, he'd be lying if he said that he'd never considered celebrating their birthdays with a special batch of Noah Puckerman Brownies.]

[He shivers as she strokes his spine, her fingers inadvertently tickling his skin. She holds onto him for dear life as they stand together, fighting gravity (she can tackle it when she's got him on her side; he's tipsy with the liquor he's sipped from her lips, drunk on her love of life, but sober enough to keep her steady because that's what he's always done for his girl, even before she was his girl). He doesn't need to leave her, following her to the bed and yanking the covers back to climb inside them, waiting for her to get off the covers and beneath them instead. Turning to his side, he opens the drawer of the bedside table, removing a bottle of ibuprofen, leaning further down to grab a bottle of water from the plastic and cardboard case beneath the bed. Prepared? Yeah, they keep a case beneath the bed because they wake up during the night and just don't want to get out of bed for the water, especially when he gets called out.] M'in bed.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

[She crawls under the covers (literally, because her feet are up by his head for a minute before she turns herself around, crossing her arms on his chest and propping her arms there, chin balanced on her hands as they lay folded together between his pecs. Her eyes are heavy, though she's not feeling tired at all. The alcohol is starting to slow even the infamous Berry energy, but it doesn't stop her from smiling lazily up at him.] You are. Hi. [She giggles, bending her legs at the knees and swinging them beneath the covers. Finn had called her a needy drunk, but maybe that had nothing to do with Rachel and everything to do with Finn. She felt like she needed to be needed by Finn and that made her cling to him, want to keep him close. Generally, with Puck, she's a happy, horny, handsy drunk but not needy. She walks her fingers across his chest, tracing one along his jaw.] Prickly peach~

[but_idontlie]

And you're all smooth, babe. [He slides one hand between her parted thighs, rubbing his fingertips against the slickness he finds there. Fuck, yeah. He always feels pride when he thinks about it, about how they've been fucking without condoms since prom night - and he can touch her like this and know that he's the one that gets her soaked like this. He's the guy. This is him.]

[He's such a BAMF.]

[He wraps his arms around her, nuzzling against her nose with his own and grinning to himself, to her.] You're so fucking hot. You're really fucking hot when you're wasted, you know that?

[He pauses. This is so not the time to bring this up, now that she's wasted, but she won't remember this anyway. It's why they have the contract.] Hey, babe. How good's your memory right now?

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

[She whines, propping one leg over his waist and letting her eyes fall all the way closed. She'd surprised him, prom night with her birth control prescription. She'd asked him to get tested a few weeks before with the whole plan in mind, but was able to play it off by saying she wanted to experiment with giving oral. He'd presented her with papers and on prom night, when he propped her up against the goal post and went fumbling into his back pocket for the condom, she'd leaned in and whispered "I'm on birth control now."]

[Yeah, that time didn't last nearly as long as they'd both hoped.]

[She wiggles down against his fingers, whining when he pulls them back to wrap his arms around her.] 'M always hot. Cause-a you. Makin' me hot always.

'Pends. Wass tha question?

[but_idontlie]

[Since that night, when he'd hitched her thigh up over his hip and thrust hard into her against the goalpost before taking her back to his house and spreading her beneath him in his bed and doing the same thing over and over again, all night long.]

Nah, just don't want you to remember this when you're sober. [He pauses again, kissing her lips and leaning his head back against the pillows.] You think you might wanna go to the courthouse and get legally married and shit so you can get my insurance and benefits and stuff? S'better for you than just being my girlfriend, baby. Just legally, we can still act like this and shit. Nothing has to change except the legal shit and you can get my benefits and good insurance. [He kisses her lips again.] Been thinking about that for awhile and I really fucking hope you don't remember that in the morning. Too scared and shit to ask you right now. I know you wanna wait for that Tony.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

[Rachel closes her eyes and hums as she listens, giggling when he kisses her and says that he was scared. Starts talking about Tony and shit.] Mmm Tony~...Noah. [She opens her eyes and sits up, a little off-balance now.] I. Love you. More than all the Tonies ever ever ever~. 'S why I have to, [She braces her hands on the side of her face before stretching them out, angling her line of sight.] Focus. 'S distracting.

Don't be scared, 'kay? I loooove~ you. [She leans down to bump her nose against his.] Love isn't scary. 'S awesome. And married and babies and "I do" and forever ever and. [She stops and hums a little.] Yes. I will marry you. Forever-ever.

[but_idontlie]

[On the bright side, she isn't freaking out and throwing shit. Could this be a preview of how she'll act when he brings it up for real? Maybe. Probably not. She'll probably freak out. Maybe get mad.] I love you, too, baby. [He strokes his fingers through her hair, cupping her face in his hands and drawing her face close to his for a kiss.] I love you. And if shit happens to me when I'm working, I want you to be there, and if you're just my girlfriend or my roommate, they won't let you be. If you're married to me, they'll let you make decisions for me, and if shit happens to me, they'll take care of you, and you'll have insurance and shit. And then if you want to get married for real, we do it after your Tony. This is just... so you're safe and shit. Just because I'm a cop, babe. [The Forever-ever rings in his ears, though, and - would it be so bad if she remembered this conversation in the morning, as long as she remembered what SHE said, too?]

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

[She'll probably freak out. And she'll probably get mad. But it won't be because of the reasons Noah's probably thinking of.] 'S not gonna happen to you. [That's why. Because Rachel's been supportive of the cop thing while simultaneously ignoring the possibility that something could happen to him. She's a planner, someone who gets really uncomfortable when things are unpredictable and Noah's job is the epitome of unpredictable. Marrying him for the insurance and the power of attorney is like saying that something is going to happen for sure. They're inviting it, almost. That freaks her the fuck out.]

[Or at least, it would if she was in any rational state of mind right now.] 'M safe. [She nods against his chest.] 'Cause. I have you. Big strong man. With his guns. [She reaches out, winding both hands around one of his biceps and pulling.] C'mere, guns.

[but_idontlie]

[He sits up in bed as she tugs him close, pushing up on his elbows, wrapping his arms around her ribs and softly smacking his lips against hers, his kisses sweet, lingering and tender.] I love you. [He tells her softly, his voice quiet so that only she can hear.] I love you so fucking much; you know that, right? I wanna make sure you're gonna be all set here. [If something happens to me and I don't come home. I want them to call you. And I want you to make the decisions. I don't want them to call my mom and have to wait for her ass to get here. I want you to decide.]

You getting tired yet, babe? [He falls back down to the bed, pulling her down with him, his length nestled between her parted thighs. He could go another round... or four... but sleep, he could rock some sleep.] Wanna fucking sleep with you... wake you up fucking you.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

[He pulls her close, kissing her and even through the fuzz in her brain, there's this clear moment in the back of her mind where all she can do is sigh and cling to him.] I know. I love you too. So much. [Don't you dare leave me, Noah Puckerman. I'll bring you back to life and kill you if you try.] 'S gonna be okay. You're safe. Always... [She bumps her nose against his, straddling his hips.]

'M not tired. You promised more screaming... [She grins, nipping at his collarbone and wiggling her hips a little.] Promise is a promise is a promise promise. Sleep after.

[but_idontlie]

[He loves the way things have changed between them in the past year. A year ago, he was telling Quinn Fabray that he'd rather rawdog a beehive. Now, he's rawdogging Rachel Berry multiple times a day - her idea, by the way, did he mention that part? She's telling him that she loves him and he's soberly and offhandedly mentioning that he wants to marry her so that she'll get the benefits of being a cop's wife if anything happens to him, that she isn't left in a city all alone. That if she gets sick, she'll have insurance, because her work isn't as steady as his is, and he's planning on being the one to support them, anyway. He's fine with that. They're there so she can chase her dreams. He's already happy; he's working a job he loves most of the time, and being with Rachel, loving Rachel, is one of those things he swears he should be too young to feel. But this shit? It's so real it scares him sometimes. At least, it's more real than anything he's ever felt before, except for Beth. He smiles against her lips, kissing her again, and shifting his hands beneath her thighs to help her settle against his hips.]

Oh, yeah? I promised you doggy-style, huh, baby? [Oh, yes. He did.] You think you can handle it, turn over and hang onto the headboard or something while I fuck you?

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

[The whole love vs in love debate wasn't one Rachel ever put much thought into. She loved Finn, therefore she was in love and that was kind of the end of the conversation but she knows, now, that she was never in love with Finn. She loved him. She loves Noah, too, but she's in love with him too. She isn't choosing her Tony over being with Noah because she felt like her future was more important than a relationship, not like she was with Finn. She's choosing it because the love she feels for Noah consumes her, the way a lightbulb illuminates a room and she knows that if she doesn't put the things she wants (her Tony) before the things she needs (Noah), he'll distract her even without meaning to. Hell, if she wanted to just teach music and sing somewhere like she does now, she'd be waking up and praying every morning that this is the day he puts a ring on her finger. She kisses him back, giggling a little and slipping off of his lap to stand on her knees.]

You promised. [She nods, pouting a little and licking her lips before she grabs the bars of the headboard.] I can han'le it. I always han'le it. Can you han'le it?

[but_idontlie]

[Game fucking on. She slides from his lap and moves to grab the headboard, wiggling her ass in his face, and he growls. Pink blooms over her porcelain skin at the spank he delivers; it isn't a hard slap, but it will sting for a few moments.] 'Course I can handle you. [See him getting into position behind you? He trails his fingers between her thighs, rises up on his knees, lines himself up - thick, ready - and pushes into her body. There isn't any need to prolong the inevitable, for foreplay, for teasing, because this entire night has been teasing. He's going to get in, get both of them off, get out, and they're both going to pass the fuck out in their bed. His hands find her thighs; he rocks his hips, thrusting hard into her, and he yanks her back against his body as he growls her name.]

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

[She's still reeling from the spank when he slides in, mouth half open, tilting her ass back for another, though she isn't complaining when she receives his cock instead. He's rough the way she doesn't think anyone else could be, just the way she needs when she's like this and she's so glad he's never underestimated her because of her size. She's tiny, but she likes to be manhandled a little, especially when she's drunk. He grounds out her name and she moans.] 'Gain. Say it again...spank me s'more...

[but_idontlie]

[He likes when he's sober like this and she's drunk. He's in control. She's not. She's okay with this - perfectly okay, and they have a written contract to that effect - and he wouldn't do it if there was any doubt. She bounces against him, her hands white-knuckling the headboard, moaning loudly as she lunges back and forth, to and fro on the mattress.] So fucking hot. Gonna fuck you so hard you fucking scream. You fucking love my cock, baby. Love it. You're so tight for me. My little fucking virgin. Nobody gets to be in you 'cept me. You're fucking made for me. Nobody - nobody gets to touch you here - [One hand wraps around her abdomen, stroking wetly between her thighs. There is no particular rhythm or sense to his touches; he's doing what feels good, his fingers sliding around his cock as he pounds into her, around her bundle of nerves and thin folds of tissue, his wet fingers trailing up her belly to tug on her nipples and brush her own taste over her lips.] Nobody gets to fucking touch you the way I do. S'my pretty pussy, baby. S'all mine.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

[She spreads her knees a little wider, tilting her hips back up to bounce back against each thrust.] I do, baby, I do, 's so good, love your cock in me... [She's drunk on the various liquors she's consumed that night, high on adrenaline and pleasure endorphins and she's really not paying any attention at all to her words.] 'S all yours, just yours, always... [She opens her mouth to his fingers, sucking them into her mouth and moaning loud around them. After a moment, she lets go of the headboard and sits up, pressing her back against his chest and reaching back to hold onto the back of his neck instead.]

[but_idontlie]

[He falls back on his knees as she straightens, his hips making a little cradle for her as she writhes on his lap, her slender fingers gripping the back of his neck. He growls, biting at her neck, his hands moving all over her body (her breasts, cupping and squeezing them, his fingers pinching at her nipples before dipping into her bellybutton and sliding low, finding her hipbones and following the creases there before sliding between her thighs and mapping every square inch of skin there. He bounces her gently, biting at her earlobe, murmuring in her ear.] Anything you want me to do to you? Boundaries you want me to push? Shit you want me to do to you, right now, I never did to you before? Anything you wanna do to me? All you ever gotta do is tell me, baby, and it's yours. Give you fucking everything.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

[Her knuckles burn, bent tight against the skin of his neck as she holds tight, rolling her hips and letting him bounce her up and down and fuck her so deep. His hands leave her nipples, and she replaces it with one of her own, pinching and tugging gently. Boundaries...things they haven't tried and she's been thinking about this for a while but she's never brought it up. Yay for being drunk, she guesses. She turns her head, the side of her lips pressed sloppy against his for a short kiss before she speaks.] Tell-...tell me 'bout...Santana. Wanna hear how you fuck her, what her pussy feels like...bet she's so loud, huh baby? And bossy. You talk to her like you talk to me?

[but_idontlie]

[Her words are clear, even though the kiss; her voice is muffled, the sound a harsh whisper accompanied by wet noises and moans and the sounds of skin slapping against skin. He groans at her request. It's no secret that he's had Santana so many fucking times, but he loves Rachel more, and he has absolutely no regrets. Compared to Rachel, Satan is nothing. Sure, she's hot as hell, but Rachel is Rachel. She's his girl. But the thought of the two of them, together? It fucking blows his mind, and that would kind of be one of the top things on his Bucket List before he gets married or dies or whatever. Rachel was a virgin and she's never been with anybody but him, and he'd really love to see her fuck Santana. It would have to be somebody he's had before, just so he doesn't get jealous. He inhales a deep breath and bites at her neck, his voice a low growl when he finally answers her.] Her tits are bigger. Harder, though, baby. Yours are so fucking soft. Hers are fake. You can tell. I love yours, love fucking sucking on them. Yours are lighter, more sensitive. She never came just from me sucking on them. You're better than she is. She's loud, but you're louder. She's got a fucking mouth on her, baby. She sucks cock so damn good 'cause she practices on people. She's not as tight as you, Rach. S'like you're a fucking virgin every time I fuck you. I used to wake up and she'd be sitting on my face telling me to eat her. It was hot under the Cheerios skirt. I'd finger-fuck her at practice under the bleachers, make her bite something so she didn't fucking make noise. She'd make me pull out, and she'd get pissed when I'd pull out and come all over her. [He nips at her lower lip, rolling his hips against hers.] You fucking love it when I do that.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

[She and Santana had started up a tentative friendship Senior year. After the stunt Finn pulled, before it made headlines, Rachel had taken it upon herself to apologize. Whether or not Santana was upset, Rachel was offended by his actions (Red flag #INFINITY, Rach) and Santana had brushed her off until the commercial hit. Then there was "I Kissed A Girl" and after that, Santana seemed to think that "So, did you bone Stay Puft yet?" was an appropriate conversation starter. It's an odd way to start a friendship, but Rachel's never done anything normally. She was also the only person to breach the subject of Puckleberry on a daily basis, and the first person besides Shelby to find out that they were actually together ("'Bout fucking time, Berry. Ask Puckerman if it's easier to breathe without his head in his ass.")]

[She doesn't know when her friend became a fantasy of hers. Probably right after she and Noah began to date and Rachel thought it would be a good idea to call Santana and ask her for tips for some celebration or another. The thought of it being something that Santana and Noah had done together didn't make her jealous like she'd thought it would. On the contrary. The idea of Santana holding Puck's hands above his head and straddling his face ("Don't let that asshole fool you, he eats pussy like a goddamn lesbian. Swear to God he came in his pants once.") sent her from sitting on his face to riding him with a fervor she was surprised she possessed.] You...you should try. Wanna see you lick her breasts and-...fuck, and-...her pussy. I wanna see you make her come...would you do that? Would you fuck her for me and then-...you can come on me, instead, after...

[but_idontlie]

[He whines, sinking his teeth into the curve of muscle and skin between her neck and shoulder, and worrying at the skin with his teeth until a dark crescent bruise begins to rise there. His fingers slide between her thighs, stroking where his cock pushes in and out of her body, feeling her slickness dripping down his own length. He even strokes wet fingertips over her puckered opening, giving a hard thrust of his hips at the same time just to see what she'll do.] You wanna call her up, sometime? Invite her over? Tell her you wanna get her naked and watch while I fuck her, touch yourself while I do it? I wanna watch her fuck you, baby. You think that would be so fucking hot, baby? [He breathes in her ear.] If she was here right now? Right in front of you, going down on you when I was fucking you? You'd come so fucking fast. She'd love your tits, baby. She'd make you come. I wanna watch her make you come. I can fuck you and she can suck them.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

She offered. [Surprise, Puck!] She wants to, she said...she said she thinks I'm hot...I bet she'd do it. [Her shoulder is going to kill in the morning but she can't bring herself to care, dropping her hands to brace on his thighs now. Her short nails leave welts there, head thrown back against his shoulder as she writhes, desperate on his cock now.] I want both of you to fuck me, I want-...I want both, I wanna come, I want her to make me come and then you and then-...fuck, Noah, fuck- [That screaming you promised, Puckerman? Yeah. There it is. She throws her head back, a garbled mess of words and moans (and does that sound like Santana to you?) spilling forth as she comes.]

[but_idontlie]

[He groans, loud and low, rolling his hips vigorously against hers. She scratches his thighs and he barely feels it, his eyes squeezed shut as he listens to her words.] Fuck, yes. [He hisses out, twisting his hips as she moves against him.] Wanna give you what you want - give you everything, give you her - fuck, Rach, baby, Rachel - [She howls, the sound resounding in his ear, just as he'd promised. He catches a few words in there - his name, and fuck, and yes, and Santana, and more words he can't understand accompanied by moans and screams, her body tightening and pulsing around him. He can barely move; her body squeezes her so tightly from base to tip, fluttering around him. Her orgasm pulls his abruptly from his body, and he spills into her with a high-pitched gasp as his palm presses her abdomen back against his hips.]

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

[She's limp. Her brain is sending out all of the right electrical impulses but between the alcohol and her orgasm, they're not making it to the right places. All she gets is a few quivers in her thigh muscles, hands clenching and unclenching on the hard muscles of his thighs as she whimpers, tucking herself back against him, nuzzling the side of her nose against his shoulder. One hand manages to find the one he presses to her stomach, winding their fingers messily together and squeezing tight as he swells and spills inside of her, hot and deep and she whimpers his name.] God, I love you. Love you so much, so good to me... [She leans back as best she can to kiss him, exhaustion starting to blanket her.] 'M...wore me out, baby...

[but_idontlie]

[When he can breathe - before he even opens his eyes, because that's not happening anytime soon - he maneuvers them carefully to lie on their sides in the bed, doing his best to remain inside her. He loves falling asleep with even an inch of himself still inside her, pressed between her thighs. He can't explain why, but fuck, it feels good. Their fingers weave together over her abdomen and he nuzzles against the back of her neck, into her hair, and softly whispers to her as they lie together.] I love you. And m'gonna ask you to marry me just to be legal and shit. And we're gonna call Satan and get her to come up here.