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storypaint) wrote2010-10-31 04:57 pm
storypaint) wrote2010-10-31 04:57 pm
Entry tags:
[Glee] (since the house is on fire) let us warm ourselves (Puck/Santana)
Title: (since the house is on fire) let us warm ourselves
Fandom: Glee
Length: 787 words
Prompt:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
glee_anon: Puck/Santana, waxplay
Pairing: Puck/Santana
Other: PG-13 for sex and waxplay.
Excerpt: "Don't be a baby," Santana scoffs. If there's any one statement more likely to goad Puck into obedience, she doesn't know it. He scowls and pulls his shirt off.
Don't be a baby," Santana scoffs. If there's any one statement more likely to goad Puck into obedience, she doesn't know it. He scowls and pulls his shirt off. She grins; she always gets what she wants in this relationship (which is sex; she wouldn't trust Puck with her emotional needs).
"I'm not a baby," he answers. "But my mom freaks out when she sees any weird marks that can't be explained by football. I think a burn isn't going to pass her eagle eye."
"Lie down," Santana says. "No, not on the bed." She points to the blanket and towels and pillows on her floor. He gives her a look like, "Are you kidding?" but she just crosses her arms and waits. He sighs to let her know that this is a lot of work for pussy, but he does it anyway.
"First of all," she continues, "you really gotta quit letting your mom wash your hair, because it's still creepy. And second, I'm not going to burn you. I've been practicing." She lights the candles and shuts the lights off. Then she takes a seat beside him on the floor and watches them flicker up on her bureau.
"Practicing on who? Brittany?" Puck licks his lips. Santana rolls her eyes.
"On me, dummy. But I wouldn't trust you to do it right yet, and if I ended up with visible burns, Sylvester would have my head."
She straddles him, mostly to shut him up, and they make out for a while, until he's teasing her nipples under her uniform and her mental alarm for the candles goes off. Then she pulls his hands out of her clothes, ignoring his whining, and picks up the candle tray (a repurposed baking tray; if she runs it through the dishwasher no one will suspect a thing).
"So you're going to drip wax on me," he says, and his voice is guarded. She almost laughs; for all his supposed badassery, Puck isn't actually that kinky. She wonders what he'll think when she brings out the strap-on in her closet. She'll probably have to explain what a prostate is.
"You'll like it. Now shut up before I drip some in your mouth."
He looks at her like he's trying to decide if she actually would, but she's picking up the first candle and dangling it over his breastbone. She bites her lip, concentrating, and allows just a little wax to dripple down and strike his skin.
"It's like a birthday party," Puck says.
She sets the candle back in the tray and glares at him. "What the hell, Puck?"
"You know, haven't you ever licked the frosting off of birthday candles? But you didn't wait until they got cool because you really wanted it? Mrs. Hudson always picked the best birthday cakes."
"Shut up, idiot," she says, pulling the tiny stripe of wax off without warning and then licking down its path. Puck makes a strangled noise that she takes as encouragement; when she looks up at his face, his head is thrown back against the pillows and his eyes are shut. Yeah, he liked it.
She picks up the candles again and begins to make patterns on his skin. She's impressed with the gigantic S that she finishes off with, trailing wax across both his nipples as he groans.
"If you move, I hurt you," Santana says, curving the tail of her S across the skin right above his jeans. They're straining with his arousal and she grins to see it. She knew this was a great idea.
The candle is starting to get too hot so she blows it out and sets it back on the tray. Then she stands up. Puck's eyes fly open.
"What are you doing? Are you just going to leave me here?"
"I didn't tie you up, Puck. Even if I left you here, you could get up and walk out." She walks toward the door and turns back around, letting her skirt flounce.
"I'm going to get some ice cubes," she says sweetly.
"You have the best ideas," he says with a sigh. Santana nods.
"Don't you forget it," she says in sing-song.
When she returns with the ice cube tray, she straddles him again and begins to use the ice to strip away the wax, forcing the cold contrast against his hot skin in a way that makes him squirm pleasantly against her. She lets his hand slip between her legs and begins to hum. He pauses; she opens her eyes to see his quizzical expression.
"The happy birthday song?"
She smiles slowly as she unbuttons his jeans and pulls off her panties. "Happy birthday to me," she purrs, and he laughs.
Fandom: Glee
Length: 787 words
Prompt:
glee_anon: Puck/Santana, waxplayPairing: Puck/Santana
Other: PG-13 for sex and waxplay.
Excerpt: "Don't be a baby," Santana scoffs. If there's any one statement more likely to goad Puck into obedience, she doesn't know it. He scowls and pulls his shirt off.
Don't be a baby," Santana scoffs. If there's any one statement more likely to goad Puck into obedience, she doesn't know it. He scowls and pulls his shirt off. She grins; she always gets what she wants in this relationship (which is sex; she wouldn't trust Puck with her emotional needs).
"I'm not a baby," he answers. "But my mom freaks out when she sees any weird marks that can't be explained by football. I think a burn isn't going to pass her eagle eye."
"Lie down," Santana says. "No, not on the bed." She points to the blanket and towels and pillows on her floor. He gives her a look like, "Are you kidding?" but she just crosses her arms and waits. He sighs to let her know that this is a lot of work for pussy, but he does it anyway.
"First of all," she continues, "you really gotta quit letting your mom wash your hair, because it's still creepy. And second, I'm not going to burn you. I've been practicing." She lights the candles and shuts the lights off. Then she takes a seat beside him on the floor and watches them flicker up on her bureau.
"Practicing on who? Brittany?" Puck licks his lips. Santana rolls her eyes.
"On me, dummy. But I wouldn't trust you to do it right yet, and if I ended up with visible burns, Sylvester would have my head."
She straddles him, mostly to shut him up, and they make out for a while, until he's teasing her nipples under her uniform and her mental alarm for the candles goes off. Then she pulls his hands out of her clothes, ignoring his whining, and picks up the candle tray (a repurposed baking tray; if she runs it through the dishwasher no one will suspect a thing).
"So you're going to drip wax on me," he says, and his voice is guarded. She almost laughs; for all his supposed badassery, Puck isn't actually that kinky. She wonders what he'll think when she brings out the strap-on in her closet. She'll probably have to explain what a prostate is.
"You'll like it. Now shut up before I drip some in your mouth."
He looks at her like he's trying to decide if she actually would, but she's picking up the first candle and dangling it over his breastbone. She bites her lip, concentrating, and allows just a little wax to dripple down and strike his skin.
"It's like a birthday party," Puck says.
She sets the candle back in the tray and glares at him. "What the hell, Puck?"
"You know, haven't you ever licked the frosting off of birthday candles? But you didn't wait until they got cool because you really wanted it? Mrs. Hudson always picked the best birthday cakes."
"Shut up, idiot," she says, pulling the tiny stripe of wax off without warning and then licking down its path. Puck makes a strangled noise that she takes as encouragement; when she looks up at his face, his head is thrown back against the pillows and his eyes are shut. Yeah, he liked it.
She picks up the candles again and begins to make patterns on his skin. She's impressed with the gigantic S that she finishes off with, trailing wax across both his nipples as he groans.
"If you move, I hurt you," Santana says, curving the tail of her S across the skin right above his jeans. They're straining with his arousal and she grins to see it. She knew this was a great idea.
The candle is starting to get too hot so she blows it out and sets it back on the tray. Then she stands up. Puck's eyes fly open.
"What are you doing? Are you just going to leave me here?"
"I didn't tie you up, Puck. Even if I left you here, you could get up and walk out." She walks toward the door and turns back around, letting her skirt flounce.
"I'm going to get some ice cubes," she says sweetly.
"You have the best ideas," he says with a sigh. Santana nods.
"Don't you forget it," she says in sing-song.
When she returns with the ice cube tray, she straddles him again and begins to use the ice to strip away the wax, forcing the cold contrast against his hot skin in a way that makes him squirm pleasantly against her. She lets his hand slip between her legs and begins to hum. He pauses; she opens her eyes to see his quizzical expression.
"The happy birthday song?"
She smiles slowly as she unbuttons his jeans and pulls off her panties. "Happy birthday to me," she purrs, and he laughs.