olaf47: (brittany/hat)
[personal profile] olaf47
Title: kicking and screaming through fast dreams
Fandom: Glee
Characters/Pairing: Santana Lopez, Noah Puckerman, Pucktana
Rating: R
Spoilers: Vague. Lauren exists.
Summary: She knows that she is; she totally is being a complete bitch to him, but she still wants to smack him upside the head for calling her one.
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. The words are.
A/N: Written to fill a prompt at the Santana Lopez Drabble Meme: I hope you can forgive me for that time when I put my hand between your legs and said it was small, cuz it's really not at all. I guess there's just a part of me that likes to bring you down just to keep you around, because the day you realize how amazing you are, you're going to leave me. Title from the same song.

Puck sends her a text that says: “Stop being a bitch.”

She knows that she is; she totally is being a complete bitch to him, but she still wants to smack him upside the head for calling her one.

It’s not like he doesn’t like it, isn’t used to it. It’s what they do. It’s what they’ve been doing since they were thirteen years old; it’s not like they’re going to stop now.

They’re not dating or anything. They fuck whenever they are single, and sometimes when they’re not, and that’s something else they’ve been doing forever and don’t exactly plan on stopping.

He’s a dick and she’s a bitch and none of these things are going to change.

She knows what keeps him coming back, anyway. The sex is always the best when she’s mean to him. (The most memorable time was after she told him he had a small dick. Actually, she phrased it, “Honestly, Finn is bigger than you.” Puck bent her over his futon. She couldn’t walk straight for a day and a half.)

Anything else he can get from other people: he has Quinn for a tortured love story and Rachel if he needs a Jew and Lauren if (who knows why, really?) he’s feeling generous or something. And it’s not like those are the only girls he could get with. But Santana knows what she gives him—she knocks him down a peg, or several, keeps his wits sharp. She makes him prove himself.


He’s moving to Columbus in three weeks, like half of their fucking class, including Quinn Fabray, and it’s not that Santana is insecure, but she’s going to NYU and isn’t exactly sure she wants to leave him in a different state with that girl.

He can’t leave her for Quinn, because they aren’t together to begin with, so Santana’s not really sure what she’s worried about. She knows he loves her; he tells her every year on her birthday. (He’s not like in love with her or anything, and she totally doesn’t care.) He’s her best friend. He’s always been there for her whenever she’s needed him. She thinks maybe she just doesn’t want him to be there like that for anyone else.

So she’s a bitch to him.

She keeps dropping hints, making it sound like she doesn’t think he’ll last the year without getting arrested, dropping out, or knocking a girl up. Lately, he looks like he’s about ready to smack her (except he won’t, because he’s never been that type of guy).

If she’s honest (and she almost never is), she knows he’ll fucking fly through all four years. He’s smart, and he’s a good guy, and she knows that, and she fucking hates it.

She needs him to want to prove himself to her because it’s the only way she knows how to keep him wanting anything to do with her.

He really is a good guy—he’s had her back through everything over the years, gotten in fights defending Kurt. He even got in touch with Ms. Cochran so he and Quinn could visit Beth every once in a while. Santana doesn’t want him to like, figure it out or anything, though, because then he’ll realize that maybe he shouldn’t be fucking around with this puta from Lima Heights Adjacent. Maybe he deserves better than a girl who doesn’t give him anything but snark, the occasional screaming fight, and sex. They’re not together but shit, that doesn’t mean he can’t leave her.


When she doesn’t answer his text, he shows up.

“What the fuck, Santana?”

She’s spent a week building him up to this level of pissed off, but it didn’t spark until he made some comment about if Quinn was going to join the cheer squad at OSU. That was two days ago, and until he shows up at her bedroom door (why does she even bother to lock the house, knowing he can break in?), she hasn’t even seen him since.

He makes his way over to her bed, and she just reaches out, wraps a hand around his forearm, and pulls him on top of him. It’s easier than trying to explain herself.

But for the first fucking time in his life, he has some self-control.

“Fuck,” he pulls away from her lips. “No. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

She doesn’t say anything. It’s completely fucking obvious that she’s jealous, because it was a comment about Quinn that started this whole thing, but she doesn’t even really know why, doesn’t know what’s wrong with her, so it’s not like she can explain it to him.

She rolls her eyes. “Well if you’re not gonna fuck me, do you at least have some weed?”

“Jesus,” he runs a hand through his hair. He’s growing it out, losing the mohawk. (She thinks he didn’t want to meet 50,000 of his new best friends looking kind of douche-y.) “Why the fuck are you jealous of Quinn?”

She scoffs and crosses her arms but she can’t even come up with a witty response, which pretty much makes it clear that she is most definitely jealous of Quinn.

“‘Tana,” he says and fuck, he hasn’t called her that since eighth grade when he still let her call him Noah. “I’m not gonna suddenly want her instead of you just ’cause she’s around.”

There’s a ball in her throat and she can’t fucking talk and it’s totally his fault. Him and that stupid nickname. Who the hell pulls an old nickname out in a fight?

“I want you,” he says, quietly.

She doesn’t know if he’s looking at her when he says it because she is definitely not looking at him. Another thing she’s definitely not doing is crying. No way are there tears in her eyes. This is fucking Puck, and they aren’t dating and she doesn’t even care.

Except she blinks and they run down her face and suddenly he’s cupping her face and kissing the tears and Jesus Christ, she did not expect this to happen.

“Shut up,” he actually laughs at her. “You’re way hotter than Q, don’t act like you don’t know that. And you’re bitchy, but at least you can make up for it in the sack.”

It’s not sweet, like at all, but it’s Puck, and it’s her, and them. She laughs as he kisses her.

He’s gentle with her, and that’s not them, but it’s still really fucking good, maybe even better than the time she told him his dick was small. And maybe she likes the way that afterward, he cups her face again and promises to visit in New York.

But, whatever, this doesn’t mean she’s going to start being nice to him or anything.

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