A/N: Taking a giant break from angst and sticking with fluffy/smutty goodness for awhile. ... Enjoy.
Lazy Sundays were Santana's absolute favorite. There was nothing to do, no where to go, and with the hectic schedule she was on the other six days of the week, it was a relief to have just one day where she could just be. It was also Santana's favorite because it meant she had an entire day to spend with her girlfriend with limited interruptions, especially because Sunday was the day her dad spent hours in the free clinic and her mom did... whatever it was her mom pretended to do while she was out screwing the guy up the street. At any rate, they were alone, and that in itself was enough of a reason to count down the days til the weekend.
This particular Sunday started out rather typical: she and Brittany were curled up on the couch, watching some cheesy Hallmark movie that neither were really paying that much mind to as they canoodled, soft kisses and touches taking their attention. When it was over, Santana nestled close with her back to Brittany's chest, their fingers intertwining as their hands rested on the brunette's stomach in a tangle.
"I want to play a game," Brittany said after a few more minutes, the start of another movie even less interesting flickering across the big screen TV. The words were spoken only semi-playfully, the undertone more clearly meant to seduce.
Brittany kissed Santana's bare shoulder, waiting for a response from the shorter girl in her arms.
Santana normally would groan at this sentence, knowing it meant a never ending round of Monopoly or a hand of Uno that was neither won nor lost because Brittany thought of any and every way to cheat, though she insisted she never did. But the thinly veiled intentions of the request piqued her interest.
"Game?" she questioned, rolling over to face her girlfriend, one eyebrow raised as the corners of her mouth twitched.
"Uh huh."
The blonde smiled widely, her top teeth visible between her parted lips. Santana grinned back, moving her face closer so she could kiss her, chuckling slightly. Any game that involved Brittany and some sort of sexy times was a good game and very worthy of playing, Santana decided. As soon as she had puckered her lips though, Brittany pulled away and sat up straight.
"TAG! YOU'RE IT!" Brittany shouted, jumping up from the couch like a flash and scrambling over Santana, who was unprepared and promptly rolled off the edge of the couch and landed with a heavy thud on the hardwood floor. Brittany didn't seem to notice, too busy streaking across the living room as Santana sat, stunned, staring at her girlfriend with wide eyes.
"What the hell, Brittany!"
She was highly unamused, rubbing her tail bone and frowning at Brittany, watching her prance and frolic still. The taller girl darted back and forth from Santana to another part of the room as if trying to lure Santana to try and get her, a huge grin on her face.
Santana frowned harder. A real fucking game? And one that involved running? This was some kind of fuckery and not the kind Santana was into. She may have even taken a Monopoly game over this crap; at least Brittany would eventually get bored and it would lead to at least some heavy petting, if not more, and usually on top of the forgotten game board. She winced as she recalled the uncomfortable place she'd found that little metal Scottie dog the last time that had happened.
"Come on Santana, or you'll lose!" Brittany called to her, hands on her hips over by the bookcase, several yards away now. She looked at Santana pointedly as she gestured to her own chest, pointing with one hand. "And you really want to win, trust me."
Santana contemplated this for a few seconds, the ache in her rear forgotten as Brittany ran across the room again. She had already been tricked once and it didn't really make her want to run around her house like an idiot. However, the prospect of gaining access to the fun bags if she won was rather inticing, and after a few seconds she gave in, reminding herself that no one would see how stupid they looked acting like five year olds instead of the seventeen year olds they were. All she had to do was catch Brittany, and how hard could that be?
Hopping up from the floor Santana finally gave chase, and Brittany was ready for her, weaving around furniture with ease. Santana got almost close enough to touch her, but Brittany did a little jump and ended up on top of the ottoman, bounding across it and out of Santana's reach with ease. Santana gave a disheartened sigh but resumed her efforts, skirting around the large piece of furniture to try and head Brittany off before she could get too much further away. She failed miserably, the blonde giggling wildly as she raced into the kitchen, around the dining table, narrowly missing the edge of the island counter as she fled from Santana, who was giving valiant effort to attempt to catch her. She'd forgotten how fast Brittany was, those long legs to her advantage as she loped around the house. Nevertheless she kept trucking along, intent to at least graze Brittany with her fingertips and call it a tag.
They carried on, through the living room again, down to her dad's home office, back to the kitchen, out into the sun room, back in and up the stairs, a tight turn at the end of the hall and an epic leap on Brittany's part to avoid Santana's grasp as she streaked back down the stairs.
Winded, Santana bounded after her until she couldn't any more, collapsing back on the couch. She closed her eyes, her chest heaving, and all she could hear was the thunder of her heart pounding in her ears. There was no way she was this out of breath, not with Brittany trouncing around like she had, her only sign of wear a flush to her cheeks and a slight shortness of breath. She wondered where Brittany possibly got the energy, and then promptly decided it didn't matter. She knew how to win this without having to run another step.
"Come on Santana!" Brittany urged again.
"Not worth it," Santana answered raggedly, flinging an arm over her face. "Can't breathe." Gasp of air. "Dying." Another for good measure. "Farewell." She then laid stock still, listening intently as Brittany took a tentative few steps forward.
"Santana?"
The brunette said nothing, willing herself not to breathe in no matter how much her lungs ached for air.
"Quit being so dramatic, it's just a game. You're not going to die."
She still didn't reply, still waiting, though she cracked one of her eyes just slightly so she could watch her girlfriend.
"San?" she asked in a concerned voice.
Brittany came even closer, leaning over Santana with a worried look on her face. When she was just close enough, Santana struck her arms out, grabbing Brittany by the upper arms and yanking her down on top of herself with a laugh.
"Got you!"
"You scared me!" Brittany shrieked, though she made no effort to free herself from her girlfriend's grasp, instead adjusting herself over her.
"Yeah, but I won," Santana said smugly, her breath still coming in hard and fast as she attempted to regain full use of her lungs. Brittany, on the other hand, was fine and she smiled down softly at the brunette as she waited for her to return to normal, running fingers through her raven hair.
"It's totally hot when you're all sweaty and out of breath," Brittany told her, dipping her face down to kiss Santana's jaw line, knowing it'd be useless to try and kiss her mouth as she lay there gasping for air.
"Well, you're usually the reason for that," Santana remarked, causing Brittany to chuckle, nodding her head.
"I like it that way."
After a few more minutes of simply lying there, Brittany hovering over her and caressing her gently, the ability to breathe became easier and Santana started to toy with the sleeve of Brittany's shirt.
"So... I won."
"You cheated," Brittany countered, though her eyes gave away the fact she was going to accept Santana's triumph anyway. "But it counts I guess."
She promptly sat up, straddling Santana's waist. Santana grinned, watching Brittany peel off her top and throw it haphazardly onto the coffee table, and the blonde smiled down at her happily. Santana reached up and plucked at the bit of fabric between her breasts, hooking a finger in the space between it and her sternum.
"This isn't part of the deal. Off."
Brittany raised an eyebrow at Santana warningly. Santana sighed, rolling her eyes. Manners really had no place in sexytimes, but sometimes Brittany insisted.
"Please."
"That's better."
Brittany snuck a hand behind her back to unclasp the bra, and Santana reached up to help her off with it, sliding the straps down her arms and widening her eyes as Brittany's breasts popped free, full and round and perfect and looking exceptionally kissable, lickable, suckable... Just perfect as perfect could be and a very welcome sight.
She leaned up to claim her prize, eager hands each taking a hold of one, softly kneading them and rubbing her thumbs around the blonde's nipples. Brittany gave a satisfied hum, tilting her head back and smiling before moaning appreciatively.
"I love these things," Santana remarked, sitting up further so she could kiss across them, scattering lingering pecks over Brittany's supple flesh.
"They love you, too, baby," Brittany responded softly. She had her eyes closed, training all of her senses on the sensation of her girlfriend's ministrations, back arching ever so slightly into her touch. Santana's lust suddenly skyrocketed, the blonde's face while she was enjoying being touched and kissed making her only want to do it more, do it better. Oh who was she kidding, she was the best, as was evidenced by Brittany's small whimpers of pleasure.
"Do you want to play another game?" Brittany said in a whisper, grabbing Santana's chin in her hand and bringing it up to her mouth so she could kiss her, delivering delicate and teasing swipes at her tongue and along her teeth.
Santana relished this for a few moments, the feeling of their lips and smooth muscle melting into each other making her stomach flutter. With a happy sigh she broke for air, and shook her head.
"Fuck no I don't."
"You'll like this one more, I promise."
Brittany scooted back, pulling Santana up into a sitting position. The brunette frowned. Stupid games were getting in the way of her sexy Sunday and she was kind of getting irritated. But then she refocused on the pretty serious targets in front of her and the feeling faded away, replaced again with the desire to touch and be touched. If she had to play the dumbass games for Brittany's wanton, she guessed she could deal if it did in fact lead to her eventually burying fingers inside the blonde.
"What's the name of this game?" Santana asked with a defeated sigh.
"Simon Says. And I'm It."
"Why do you get to be It?"
"You were It last time," Brittany explained, a little whine in her voice that Santana found utterly adorable as long as she was half-naked. Still, it wasn't in her nature to give up so easily. Simon Says had a ton of potential and she was eager to reach it.
"Not by choice," she countered testily. Brittany seemed to consider this for a moment, but in the end decided it was her way or no way, arms crossing over her chest as she sighed.
"I guess if we don't agree, we don't get to play..."
Santana's eyes widened in fear, her favorite pale orbs now hidden from her view.
"Fine, you can be It. But no funny business this time."
"There's nothing funny about it," Brittany said, looking at Santana as if she were mental.
"Are you going to start or not?" Santana asked, ignoring her statement and moving past it, as was her custom. It was easier for the most part.
"Simon says you don't get to talk."
At this Santana huffed but quieted, noticing how Brittany's arms dropped from in front of her chest now that she'd gotten her way. She made a motion as if she was zipping her lips, locking it, and throwing away the key. This seemed to please Brittany, who clapped her hands lightly from glee.
"Simon says take off your shirt."
Santana obliged, and made moves as if to rid herself of her bra as well, but Brittany tut-tutted her warningly.
"Simon didn't say, Santana. Patience."
Hands dropping to her sides, Santana waited for the next thing "Simon" was going to say, unable to stop herself from thinking how odd it was to hear Brittany encourage patience, considering her track record of never waiting for anything longer than Brittany herself deemed necessary, including but not limited to: baking brownies, hatching sea monkeys, revealing Swiper's location (before Dora even asks), and finding out who the real killer is. She played along though, hiding her impatience.
"Simon says rub your tummy."
Santana gave Brittany a look that needed no decoding, but Brittany nodded her head.
"Simon says."
With a sigh Santana did as she was bade, rubbing her stomach half heartedly.
"Now... Simon says rub my tummy."
"I'd like to be rubbing something else," Santana mumbled as she reached and patted the other girl's torso, but Brittany heard her and scowled.
"Simon says play the game right or I'm not going to play anymore!"
By the time she said that though, Santana was entertained again, hands gliding over smooth, soft skin of Brittany's stomach. Her belly button was so adorable, how she hadn't realized before was beyond her. And those abs. Ugh. It was almost a crime they weren't on display all the time.
She smiled and when Brittany noticed, her scowl dropped and the happy grin returned.
"Simon says you can stop now."
Santana fought a groan, hands coming to a stop, flattened against the plane of Brittany's abdomen still. Why, when it was just getting good, did Brittany feel the need to rip the awesomeness away?
"Simon says lay down."
Santana obeyed, hands coming to rest behind her head as she looked up at Brittany expectantly. The blonde was still sitting on her calves, which would have been uncomfortable, had the view not been so glorious.
"Simon says undo your pants."
Another easy one, and one that Santana was eager to follow, fingers quickly undoing the button of her jeans and yanking at the zipper.
"Pull them down."
Getting a little more excited now, Santana attempted to shove her pants down, raising her bottom off of the couch to make it easier. Brittany shook her head, smiling rather impishly.
"Simon didn't say," she said in a sing song voice, her head rocking from side to side slightly.
Resting back down on the couch with a little growl, Santana was just about to say a few mean things about Simon when Brittany reached down, hooking fingers in her belt loops and tugging at her jeans. Raising her hips again to aid her girlfriend, and the pants made it to her knees before Brittany stopped.
"Simon says she likes your undies."
Santana knew that, watching Brittany's eyes cloud over slightly as she stared down, the fabric string wrapping around her hips holding a thin, transparent triangle of purple lace over the small patch of soft curls that grew between her legs. She'd worn them just for Brittany, her bra matching, knowing purple was her favorite color and that lace was always a huge plus. Brittany didn't say anything further for the moment, seemingly forgetting her little game and reaching a hand down, rubbing Santana hard over the fabric of her panties. Santana tried to widen her legs, but the fact that her pants never made it further than her knees combined with how Brittany was sitting on her made it difficult.
"Simon didn't say to do that, either."
Oh, so they were still playing. Not that it really mattered, because it looked like Santana would be getting what she wanted, and soon. She could play along, leaving her legs together.
She couldn't help the involuntary jerk of her hips though as Brittany started to rub harder, and pretty soon there was a wet spot darkening the lace over her core. Biting her lip so as not to say anything that would make Brittany stop and go "Simon didn't say" or some bullshit, Santana tried to keep herself from whimpering too audibly. The urge to have something inside her, something for her walls to clench around, came on quickly, and being unable to help herself her back arched slightly, canting her hips in search of what she needed.
Brittany wasn't that cruel of a Simon to hold this against her, and Santana let out an un-rebuked moan as the blonde slipped her hand into her panties, deftly pushing fingers inside of her body. She set to thrusting them in and out, but because of the angle she was sitting at and Santana's legs still together, they were shallow ventures. This only made Santana want it more, her hips bucking in attempt to send her digits in deeper. It didn't work all too well for that, but it did cause the heel of Brittany's hand to start colliding against her clit, and suddenly that was okay too.
"Simon says don't move."
At this Santana's eyes opened wide in horror, wondering what the hell Brittany expected her to do when she wasn't going deep enough to satiate her desire. Brittany just looked at her sternly, which was kind of funny because of where her hand happened to be at that time. Santana groaned but nodded, and as Brittany started up again used all of her willpower not to move her hips, though her fingertips were twitching wildly at her sides, needing some way to channel the yearning she felt.
Brittany soon made up for it though, bringing her other hand into the action and rubbing the brunette's clit, tapping the thumb on her left hand over the nub as the two fingers on her right already busy inside of Santana became three, curling rapidly and with evenly measured timing. Santana was close to crying out, but knowing she'd be told off for it if she did she kept it inside, tilting her head back into the couch cushion and closing her eyes tightly, biting her lip as hard as she could without breaking skin.
"Simon says you can talk again," Brittany said, her voice husky with lust. She didn't slow any, and now that Santana had been given permission, she was whimpering and moaning out her pleasure.
"Oh Brittany, baby, let me open my legs, please, please," she said desperately, not even caring that she was practically begging. "I want you inside me deeper, I need to feel you fucking me har-" but before she could finish the sentence the build up between her legs had reached it's peak. With a few more thrusts of Brittany's fingers, suddenly deeper as Brittany quickly moved a leg, placing it between her knees to spread them, and a firm swirling over her clit, Santana came, blinded by spots of color.
"You literally make me see rainbows!" Santana keened, no longer able to stop her hips from jolting forward, sending Brittany's probing fingers in even further.
At this Brittany laughed, and she helped Santana down from her high slowly, making sure to allow the brunette every second of pleasure that had been afforded to her by her own expertise. Once the last tremor ran though her body, Brittany pulled out, fingers leaving Santana's cavern along with a pool of wetness. She grinned, happily sticking the fingers into her own mouth and sucking on them, laying down next to Santana on the couch, the shorter girl breathless once again. She rested her head on Santana's heaving chest and smiled around her digits. After a few moments her fingers were clean and the last traces of her girlfriend were gone from them, and she lightly pressed kisses on the inside of Santana's neck.
"You lose," she said with a little chuckle, snuggling against Santana and allowing her hands to roam and skate down Santana's side, making her shiver all over again. She looked at Brittany confused.
"How the fuck did I lose? I just had a mind blowing orgasm. I think I win," Santana argued, though she truly did not care who the hell Brittany thought had won or lost. It seemed pretty win-win to her.
Brittany just giggled, leaning up slightly so she could look down at Santana with a pleased grin on her face.
"Simon didn't say."
A/N 2: This has the potential to be a multichaptered deal if anyone is on board. I've got an epic idea involving Red Light, Green Light. ;) What say you, readers?