A/N: Yeah... Another Glee Kink Meme deal. I can't seem to stop. I have an issue.
After she was sure her children were tucked snug in their beds, Santana worked into the late hours of Christmas Eve, constructing a bicycle for her son (didn't those fucking things come assembled?), filling stockings and hanging them by the heat vent (the closest thing they had to a fire place; even this penthouse, while glorious, wasn't that great), taking careful Santa-sized bites out of overcooked sugar cookies (that Lanie had helped Brittany bake, self-explainatory when one was six and the other was Brittany), and chugging down half a glass of milk (gag) and eating most of three whole carrots. When she'd finally been able to crawl into bed, everything ready and now able to enjoy the silent night before the hustle and bustle of the busy Christmas Day ahead, she fell into a deep slumber.
Brittany had other plans it seemed like, and Santana could feel her face close to hers even without opening her eyes to see it. She sighed and glanced at the clock before groaning and turning her face into her pillow. Four frickin' a.m. Of course.
Christmas was always a big deal to Brittany, despite the fact that they were no longer children and in fact had two kids of their own. But no matter how old they got, Santana could always count on Brittany waking her early Christmas morning, wide awake and abounding with unbridled energy for what was undoubtedly her favorite day of the year. And this year didn't seem to be an exception.
"Baby... Merry Christmas," Brittany whispered, pressing her lips against the exposed side of Santana's neck. Santana shivered, her wife's lips a welcome warm sensation against her bare skin, and a smile broke out across her face.
Okay. So maybe this part wasn't so bad. She opened her eyes turned over onto her back, gazing up happily into wide, sparkling blue eyes. She reached for Brittany and pulled her down so that she was laying on top of her, and planted a kiss firmly on her mouth.
"Mmm," Santana muttered with a little chuckle. "Merry Christmas to you, too." Santana leaned up for another kiss but Brittany held back, and Santana frowned. "What? Morning breath?"
"This isn't very Christmassy," Brittana said, a slight pout on her normally joyful face. Santana sighed and rolled her eyes slightly.
"Brittany, it's Christmas morning. It can't not be Christmassy..." Her words didn't assuage Brittany's feelings, but seconds later something else sure did, as her eyes suddenly widened and a grin formed on her face.
"Come on!" she told Santana happily, yanking Santana upright with her and dragging her off of the bed and out of their bedroom. Brittany giggled as she tugged Santana along down the hallway, and Santana had to shh her repeatedly.
"The kids are still sleeping; do you really want to start Christmas morning at four?" Santana asked, whispering harshly.
"Don't worry about it. I put Nyquil in their juice before bed. They'll be out until at least eight."
Santana couldn't decide if her wife was joking or serious but she had a feeling on which it was.
"You drugged our six year old daughter and our eight year old son?" Santana asked, staring at Brittany as if she had three heads. Brittany nodded carefully.
"I had Quinn give me the dosages, but she said not to do it more than necessary. And this is necessary," Brittany assured, quite seriously. Quinn was a nurse, so Santana supposed she knew what she was doing, having been present for both their children's births and her go to when something wasn't quite right with one of her kids. It was safe; besides, a few extra hours of sleep never hurt anyone.
"Never again," Santana warned, and Brittany nodded her head solemnly.
Her rebuke was soon forgotten though as Brittany continued to lead Santana into the living room, and stood expectantly in the archway between the hall and the large, multi-windowed family living room. Santana looked from side to side, wondering what Brittany was standing there with that look on her face for.
"What?"
"Look up," Brittany said with a little giggle, pointing to the top of the archway, where a little sprig of what looked like weeds was hanging from a red ribbon. "Mistletoe."
Brittany smiled and leaned in, taking Santana's mouth with a hunger that Santana almost didn't recognize. This Christmas crap must be a big turn on for her wife, she decided as Brittany made moves to remove her nightshirt, and an idea struck her. She waited until they were both naked, hands groping blindly as they exchanged passionate and seemingly desperate kisses, and then she pulled away. Brittany gave a little whine at this turn of events, pulling Santana closer to her, nuzzling her neck and breathing in deeply.
"I need you... It's Christmas, you have to be nice to me; Santa says so," Brittany whispered, her teeth nipping at Santana's earlobe. Santana shuddered slightly and gave in for a few more seconds before wresting herself away again.
"You know there's no presents for you under that tree," Santana said slowly, not looking into Brittany's eyes so she wouldn't have to see the joy flicker from them for a split second. "Santa only visits good girls... And you..." She dropped to her knees, taking Brittany's hands in her own and tugging Brittany down to the floor with her. "Have been." Santana looked up now, winking at her wife before trailing kisses down her neck and over her breasts. "Very." Kiss.
"Naughty."
Brittany moaned, her hands flying to the sides of Santana's face to angle her mouth upwards, crashing their lips together hurriedly and delving into her mouth with her tongue, taking hungry swipes at Santana. The brunette almost laughed at how easy this was and wondered if they could extend this holiday year round. Breaking from Brittany's mouth for air, she chortled happily.
"You're lucky Santana Claus is here..." Santana told Brittany, grinning devilishly as she pushed Brittany down gently until she was laying on her back, body resting between the hallway and livingroom, her apex directly below the mistletoe.
"Oh? Does Santana Claus deliver presents to naughty girls?" Brittany asked in a throaty whisper, the twinkle in her eyes letting Santana know she was simply delighting in this new game.
"Uh huh. Santana Claus just loves those naughty girls." Santana parted Brittany's legs, placing her knees between them and leaned over her wife on all fours, dipping her head to kiss the blonde, who eagerly kissed back. Santana then laid a soft trail of kisses down her throat, working her way down Brittany's midline and stopping just under her belly button. She scooted herself back and pressed her lips to the insides of the blonde's thighs, one and then the other, ghosting over her center when she went from right to left. Brittany wiggled her hips in response, her back arching ever so slightly as she let out another moan.
"You want your present?" Santana asked slowly, grinning up at Brittany over the rise of her breasts.
"Yeah, I do," Brittany answered. "Please Santana Claus, I've been so naughty." Brittany closed her eyes and Santana knelt closer, her lips near milimeters from where she knew Brittany needed them to be.
"How naughty?"
"If I told you, you'd fly right back up to the North Pole. Just trust me. Very naughty," Brittany said hurriedly, and Santana knew she was growing weary of waiting.
Finally giving her game up, she giggled, reaching a hand up to part Brittany's outer lips and lowering her mouth until she met quivering flesh, and Brittany groaned softly.
"Oh Santana Claus, I've been waiting all year..."
Santana finally lavished her with her tongue, working it specially along the smooth trail of muscle between her clit and entrance, teasing yet again. Brittany mewled and wiggled her hips, causing the thumb on the hand holding her folds open to brush against her clit, only eliciting a louder moan.
"Brittany," Santana said warningly, removing her mouth. "Santana Claus needs you to be still or you won't get your present. And believe me, Santana Claus does more than just kiss beneath the mistletoe. She's too bad ass for that."
"Sorry, Santana. Please continue delivering presents to all the naughty girls..." Brittany paused for a split second before continuing on. "Well only just this one. But get the sleigh moving again." Brittany was never an expert at the dirty talk but Santana went with it, if only in the spirit of Christmas.
Again she lowered her mouth and traced rapid circles around Brittany's entrance, and she could feel the muscle jump and flex at her touch as a flood of wetness overcame her mouth. She lapped it up with long, slow licks, and when she heard Brittany start to mutter she attached her lips around her clit and began to suck in rapid bursts, changing up the sensation completely. Brittany kept right on muttering, and it took a few seconds before Santana could make out what she was saying.
"Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way..." Brittany kept uttering this line of the all too popular Christmas song over and over until finally she couldn't contain herself any more and let out a wail.
"Shh," Santana said slowly, drawing her mouth away but keeping Brittany occupied by placing her thumb just barely inside of her, moving the tip in and out slightly while pressing down. "You better watch out, you better not cry, you better not shout, I'm tellin you why, Santana Claus is making you come..." she sang in a low voice, but Brittany took no heed.
"This is the best gift ever," she said lustily, a hand reaching down to tangle in Santana's dark hair. "I would never want to return it. Not like I could exachange it. Because I don't have a reciept. I wonder they would for store-credit..." Santana cut her off before she could continue any further on her odd ramble.
"Britt, seriously, you're killing my Christmas joy here."
Before Brittany could reply she removed her thumb and replaced it with her tongue, working it around and thrusting it as deeply as she could into her wife's center. Brittany lifted a leg and rested it on Santana's shoulder, pulling on her hair and urging her even closer. Santana obliged willingly and starting to hum as she finished her work, a hand coming up to press against Brittany's clit, alternating between hard and soft swirls.
"It's the most wonderful time of the year!" Brittany keened, her hips bucking in rhythm to Santana's tongue's thrusts, and before either of them knew what was happening Brittany finished, plateauing off at a rather ecstatic point and squealing. Santana pressed quick kisses onto her mound, hard over her clit, and rimmed her opening with a thumb until Brittany came back down and collapsed flat on the floor, her leg sliding off of Santana's shoulder as she trembled from her release.
"So did you like what Santana Claus brought you this year?" Santana asked smugly, laying down on the carpet beside Brittany and taking her in her arms, breathing a little harder than normal from her effort and the fact that she was still so very turned on right then. Brittany swallowed, her eyes hooded still and cleared her throat.
"It was the best."
"Good. Now remember to be extra naughty all this new year and maybe she'll make you come again next year with something even better," Santana told her with a chuckle, breaking out into a laugh when Brittany did. Brittany flailed a foot until she caught her toe on a throw blanket resting on the couch not too far away. She grabbed it and threw it over herself and Santana and happily nestled the brunette closer, their bodies almost molding together.
"God bless us, every one," Brittany said softly. She smiled wryly at her wife and giggled. Especially Santana Claus." Santana hmm'd happily and grinned.
"Ho ho ho."