AN: This is my second story. Only the first part was beta'd. Because it was taking such a long time, the rest of it remained un-beta'd. So any mistakes are my own. I'm also currently story boarding a multi-chapter fic that won't be as smut focused, which I'm super excited about. I'm also currently running a blog with my friend Adi (nayahasmyheart) on Tumblr that is Brittana fan fiction recommendations: brittana-fanfiction . tumblr . com, my personal Tumblr is: sweet-ladykisses . tumblr . com
I walk into the small diner, sighing dejectedly. I walk over to the corner booth, and slide across the vinyl until I'm propped against the window. I lean my forehead against the cool glass, and close my eyes. I let a small groan escape me as I think about the horrible predicament that I'm in. A throbbing pain begins to pound behind my eyes.
Perfect, just perfect, I think morosely. Just when things are just starting to look up, everything turns to shit. I finally get an interview, a chance to take a step up from living paycheck-to-paycheck and what happens? My piece-of-shit car breaks down on the way to the interview.
"Can I help you?"
My eyes flutter open and I'm met with the bluest pair of eyes that I've ever seen. For a moment, I forget how to speak as I take in the sight of the waitress who has just interrupted my internal dialogue.
Silky, blonde hair. Crystal, blue eyes. Long, lean body. My eyes travel over her before I realize that I'm taking too long to answer. My eyes snap over to where the menus are propped between the condiments and the wall before looking back at her.
"Oh, um…" I search my brain for some sort of ability to speak. Finally, I try, "How about a cheeseburger and fries?"
Smiling, she takes out her pad and grabs a chewed pencil from behind her ear. She scribbles down my order and asks, "Anything else?"
"Uh," I frown, and then add, "Diet Coke?"
"Coming right up!"
I watch her spin, a little too gracefully, and walk away. My eyes linger a bit too long on her ass. I shake my head at myself and let a little smile grace my face. Maybe things aren't as bad as they seem…
I check into the only reasonably priced motel in town. After dragging my things into the musty room, I take a look around. The room looks like it was last upgraded long before I was born, but at least it's habitable.
I get ready for bed and climb under the covers, the scratchy sheets making it hard for me to get comfortable. After a few minutes of battling with the offending bedding, I settle down and let my mind drift. It drifts off to a certain blonde waitress and I feel myself blush.
After she had brought back my dinner, I had caught a peek at her nameplate: "Brittany." Her name is Brittany. It's a beautiful name, and I think it fits her quite well. She seems so… bubbly, and friendly. She stuck around my booth to chat for a few minutes since the diner wasn't exactly abuzz with customers, and I knew, even before taking a bite out of my cheeseburger that I'd be returning to that diner.
I snuggled deeper into the bed, when the door to my motel room slammed open to reveal: her. I sit up as she walks closer, the blankets pool around my waist. She stalks closer to the bed.
"B-Brittany?"
"Shhhh…" she purrs, and places a fingertip on my lips. She straightens up; she unbuttons her waitress uniform and lets it slide off of her shoulders. My eyes widen as my throat goes dry. I quickly climb out from beneath the covers and scramble over to her.
Her fingertips run along my jawline before curling around my neck and pulling me in for a searing kiss. Her tongue doesn't request permission to invade my mouth, it demands. I wouldn't have fought anyway. She threads her fingers into my hair as a ridiculously loud moan escapes my throat. I see explosions behind my eyelids.
Her hands leave my hair and start a path down my neck, over my collarbones, dancing down my chest to the hem of my shirt. She breaks out of the kiss just long enough to look me straight in the eye and works the shirt over my body, moving her hands down the same path that she took before. She lets her hands rest over my breasts, squeezing rhythmically. I'm putty in her hands.
She backs me up until I'm sitting on the edge of the bed before where she is standing. Divesting herself of the rest of her clothing, she straddles my lap. My hands immediately wrap around her body as she trails kisses down my neck.
She gently pushes me backwards on the bed and helps me shed the rest of my clothes, all the while pressing small kisses all over my body. I let my head thud against the mattress as her kisses work further down my body, past my belly button. Her hands press my legs open, and when her mouth reaches my center, I jump in surprise.
I lean back on my elbows, and watch, with hooded eyes, the woman that I can't pry out of my thoughts nestled in between my legs. The sight alone makes my arousal increase ten-fold. When she runs her tongue around my clit, I can feel my legs shaking, my body begging for release.
As she plunges her skilled tongue inside of me, I jolt upright. I look around the dark room. I'm alone. I'm covered in sweat, my breathing is erratic, and I can feel sticky arousal coating my panties. I run my palm across my face. It was just a dream…
The next evening, I return to the diner. I take the same spot I sat the night before and look around. This time I really take a moment to look at my surroundings. It's the typical greasy-spoon diner, black and white checkered floors, vinyl booths, and a long counter with stools.
All day long I couldn't get her out of my head. I couldn't get that dream out of my head. Even now, when I think about it, I get a pull in my stomach and I feel the need to press my thighs together to relieve a little bit of the pressure.
I rest my elbows on the counter top as I think about the day I had in this small town. I spent most of the day wandering around within walking distance, and I couldn't help checking to see if every blonde I saw was my blonde. Wait a moment, my blonde? When did she become my blonde? I sigh to myself. The moment I laid eyes on her, I wanted her to be my blonde.
I bury my face in my hands and groan and how deep in trouble I am, how fast I've fallen for a girl I don't even know.
"Back again?"
Startled, I look up. There she is. Brittany.
"Uh…" I stammer, swallow, I force the words out. "Yeah… My car broke down. It's being fixed. I guess, um, it'll take a couple of days?"
"So, I'll be seeing more of you, then?" she asks me, winking.
Holy shit, is she flirting with me? I cough out a laugh. I can feel the heat rush to my face. I just hope that Brittany can't see how flustered she's gotten me. I watch her lean casually on the booth back across from me, an easy smile on her face.
"Do you know what you'd like?"
You.
"The bowl of soup of the day sounds good."
"It is good, it's my favorite," she tells me, writing down my order on her notepad. I store that information in my head. She grins at me, her eyes shining. She twirls around and heads off towards the kitchen. I smile.
I finish my meal to find her flopping down in the booth across from me, with a smile plastered across her face.
"Mind if I sit here? It's kind of…" she looks around the diner, more specifically at the lack of people occupying it. "Dead."
"Please do!" I hurry to tell her. I sit up higher in my seat, more than welcome for her company. I wipe my mouth with my napkin and bite my lip. My hands drop into my lap and start twisting the napkin nervously. Keep cool, Santana, you've flirted with plenty of girls. So why is she so different? Just… be calm.
"How come, you're… you know… here? Not here, here, like in this diner, having dinner. But here, like, in this town. It's not exactly a tourist attraction. Not that you shouldn't be here! I just…" she's rambling. I watch her try to gather her thoughts. "Let me start over. What brings you here?" She smiles, getting her thoughts out correctly.
I grin and find myself even more enamored with her.
"I was on my way to a job interview, it was my dream job. But, my car decided to die, and I've already missed the interview. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be." I tell her with a certain amount of self-deprecation. I leave out the part that maybe, just maybe this was meant to be. I don't want her to think I'm a creep.
"Something better will come along," she tells me, nodding sagely, like she knows what's in store for my future.
"Oh really?"
"Yep," she tells me with a wide grin. I love that grin. "I was a dancer. I was really 'going places,' but then I hurt my knee. After that, someone who wasn't injured came along and was the next dancer 'really going places,' and now? Now I'm a waitress… but I also teach little kids how to dance, and I like it better."
"I think you're right, Brittany. I think something better will come along," I tell her. I find myself not just saying these words to be nice, actually meaning every single one of them.
We sit in that booth talking for hours. We sit there talking in that booth until it's time for the diner to close. Brittany only gets up to serve the occasional customer who comes in or to retrieve us coffee, but she always returns. I feel completely relaxed and at ease talking to her. I've never felt this way so instantaneous with anyone else before. Maybe something better has already come along.
I return back to my motel room again, elation pumping through my veins. I think I just spent the entire night flirting with the girl of my dreams, and now? Now I can't wipe this stupid grin off my face.
I walk into the bathroom and run a hot, soapy bath, shedding myself of my clothes before slipping in. I sink down lazily until the bubbles reach up to my chin, a content smile on my face. I close my eyes and let my mind drift.
I open my eyes when I feel the water ripple. I find Brittany stepping into the tub. Naked. I sit up higher, my eyes get big, my smile widens. I reach my hands out and pull her closer and crash our lips together. Her hands wrap around my neck. I let my legs drift open and she settles in between my legs.
My fingertips glide down her slick ribcage to settle comfortable on her waist, I try to pull her as close as possible. I thrust my hips into her, desperate for contact. I moan into her mouth.
Her hand runs along my jawline, down the side of my neck. She slides her fingertips in between my breasts, down my stomach. Her fingers dip in between my folds. I'm soaked, and it's not from the water in the bath. My hips jump from her touch.
Her mouth migrates onto my neck, her teeth nipping. I lean my head to the side to grant her better access, my breaths grow erratic at the pleasure. My legs are around her hips. Her fingers circle my clit, so close to where I need them, but not close enough. She smiles into my neck, before she presses two long fingers inside. I gasp and buck my hips into her.
We find an easy rhythm. She builds me up embarrassingly fast. I squeeze my eyes shut when I feel the pull in my lower belly.
"B-Brittany… I'm… I'm gonna…"
"Cum for me…"
I come with a shudder. My muscles seize, my legs squeeze her hips tight. She continues to pump her fingers inside of me until I come down from my orgasm and I relax. Gently, she removes her fingers.
I open my eyes, I'm alone in the bath, the water is almost cold. Brittany isn't there, she never was. I sigh miserably before I pull myself out of the water.
I walk to the diner with new determination, Brittany has been dominating my thoughts ever since I arrived in this town, and it's about time I did something about it. I square my shoulders and push the door open. I find her seated at one of the booths, picking at a plate of fries. No one else is in the diner. Good.
She looks up when she hears the door chime. Her face splits into a smile. "Santana, it's you!" she says as she stands from the booth.
I stride across the diner to her; I take a deep breath then I wrap my hand around her neck. I pause briefly to make sure she doesn't object. I pull her closer to me, before I crash our lips together. I sense no hesitation when she returns the kiss. Our mouths slide together in perfect rhythm. Her hands gently rest on my hips, my arms wrap around her neck. I sigh in relief when we part, and press my forehead against hers.
"This isn't a dream, is it?" I ask her.
"I hope not," she replies. "I really hope not."
I gently kiss her again, a smile on my face.
"You've been occupying my thoughts since I got here," I tell her. "And most of them have been teasing."
She tilts her head, questioningly. "Santana, have you been having sex dreams about me?"
I nod, shyly.
"Oh, good. I thought I was the only one. You've been coming to me every night, and they felt so real."
I smirk, knowing exactly how she feels. I press another kiss to her lips and back her up to the booth's table, with a brush of my arm I send the plate of fries flying. I lay her back on the table and plant my hands on either side of her head.
"How about we make those dreams become a reality?"
Fin.
