Title: TFLN ficlets
Author: timorous-scribe
Length: varies
Rating: mostly PG to T-ish
Summary: Various little ficlets using Texts From Last Night posts as prompts.
(661) I'm just gonna be the bigger person here and say I want you inside me
"You can't just say things like that to people, Santana! I have to work with them again, you know." Rachel slammed their front door, continuing to chew her girlfriend out for her behavior at the dinner they'd just left, while she angrily kicked her heels off and hung her keys on the hook.
Santana didn't respond to the diatribe, instead settling down on their couch and deliberately tuning Rachel out. It was a skill she exercised whenever Rachel was channeling harpies, so it was something she'd had a chance to perfect after almost three years together.
"Santana!" Rachel stamped her foot and Santana made the mistake of laughing outright, prompting a full on storm off with slammed bedroom door for extra effect. She sighed and shook her head, turning up the volume on the tv. It probably wasn't the best response she'd ever come up with, but oh well. Too late now. She'd learned a long time ago to just wait Rachel out and usually these kinds of things blew over.
Sure enough, within an hour Rachel was back out in the living room. Dressed in a sleep shirt and not much else from the looks of it, Rachel strode through Santana's eyeline without acknowledgment and walked around the coffee table to settle on the opposite end of the couch. She pulled out a book and focused on it with scary intensity, her mouth drawn into a determined line.
Santana looked over with amusement, her smile widening further when Rachel ignored her completely. Okay, she could play cold shoulder. She chuckled and turned back to the television, ignoring the delicious length of thigh on display from Rachel's aversion to pants.
It only took until the first commercial break before Santana was stealing glances over at Rachel. Her girlfriend reclined against the arm of the couch with one leg crossed over the other, the fingers of her free hand tracing absent patterns over her own thigh, seemingly engrossed in her book. Santana knew better. She swallowed heavily, averting her eyes back to the tv she'd lost interest in and trying not to think about those long, long legs, and how they felt wrapped around her head.
Rachel cleared her throat and stood up from the sofa, slowly walking past Santana again and then down the hall to their bedroom. Santana waited for the slam of the door, and when nothing met her ears but silence, was on her feet in seconds. She padded down the hallway and peered around the corner into the bedroom to see Rachel sitting back against their headboard, still 'reading.'
Santana walked in with a mischievous smirk and climbed onto the foot of the bed, crawling on her hands and knees until she was poised over Rachel's legs. Rachel didn't move her eyes from the book, turning the page nonchalantly as if Santana wasn't perched over her lap in their bed, impatiently demanding her attention.
"Baaaaaaaby-" Santana cooed, lifting one hand to trail a fingertip up the outside of Rachel's thigh.
"I'm reading, Santana." Rachel's curt tone said she enjoyed the stonewall she was dishing out entirely too much for Santana's liking, and the smile dropped immediately.
"Are you fu-"
"Santana. Reading." Rachel still hadn't looked up, but the corners of her mouth were starting to twitch and Santana didn't fucking beg anyone for attention, not even her petulant and pouty girlfriend. At least, not in most situations outside of this exact bed.
"Whatever." She huffed, flouncing off the bed and stomping her way to the bathroom. She started a shower and tried to guess how long Rachel's hissy fit would last this time (and how long she'd be celibate as a result) while she dragged out the act of showering until the water started to run cold.
Surveying the facts, she found herself just irritated at the conclusion. Rachel was seriously stubborn, especially when she felt justified in her anger (so, always). This could take a while. That meant that if Santana wanted to get anywhere close to touching Rachel's sweet spots tonight, she was gonna have to suck it up and apologize, or at least express some kind of regret. A promise not to do it again was a bad bet, Rachel never forgot that shit and it somehow always ended up broken when Santana set unrealistic goals like that.
She sighed, toweling her hair out before dropping the towel to the floor with a childish sense of victory. Rachel hated wet towels on the floor. So Santana was maybe a little petulant herself, what of it.
Straightening her shoulders, she walked back into the bedroom fully naked, skin glistening with leftover rivulets of water. She caught Rachel trying to be sly about briefly peeking up from her book, and was pleased with herself for suppressing the grin that tried to spring up. She stood with her hands on her hips for a few moments, confident in her nudity and basking in the fact that Rachel couldn't ignore it. Santana hadn't gotten much further in her planning than 'show up naked,' though, and ended up just standing there with a blank expression while a war between her pride and sex drive waged on in her head.
Rachel cleared her throat discreetly, flipping the page of her book with what could only be described as violence.
"Rachel."
"Mm." Rachel grunted an acknowledgement without looking up. Santana took the remaining few steps to place her next to the bed, droplets of water dropping to the floor around her.
"Rachel."
"What." Rachel looked up that time, her eyes dark and intense and full of challenge, her jaw set in 'super Rachel Berry determination' mode. With that look, the war in Santana's head had a winner.
"Look, I'm just gonna go ahead and be the bigger person here, and say that I want you inside me."
A blink, followed by another, and then Rachel was throwing her book to the side and pulling Santana down on top of her. "You're such an idiot," she murmured against her girlfriend's lips. "And you're picking up that towel before we go to sleep."