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A "Brittana" fic (Brittany/Santana)
Chapter One.
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Disclaimer:Hallo thar! I am most definitely NOT Ryan Murphy or anyone else that may own Glee. I am simply just a devoted Gleek and undying fan of Santana and Brittany.
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A/N: Yup, it's a little dark. But most of whatever I write is. Guess it's just my brain.
Anyways, I'm trying this game again. My first fic, "Words Can't Comprehend" met with a sudden and awful death that I mourn daily due to some awful events, so I am going to try and do this one better than the first. As it deserves. This is just the first chapter, obviously, and I'll probably hold off on writing the second one if I don't get too much of a response. Not that I'm 'pressuring' anyone who's reading this into a review, but I'm on the verge of where I'm taking this, so I'd like to wait for some response, seeing where people would like to see it go. Does that make sense?
Just another note, I have no Beta, so it's just me and my bad self over here. That might make for a few awkward sentences or some spelling mistakes. If there are any, please please PLEASE tell me about them so I can fix them, 'kay? I'm not too proud to take that criticism. And if you'd like to say anything else, obviously, don't hesitate!
Anyways, enough of my rambling! Here we go!
PLEASE REVIEW! And enjoy!
Everything about a girl is intoxicating. Her skin is softer, her smell is sweeter, her voice is more melodic. Her curves are smooth and her laugh is bright. Even her touch is inherently soothing, nurturing. All that she stands for is welcoming and sweet. It is only natural that men find them tantalizing and lust after them, love them. But how is it at all fair that only men are aloud to indulge in their graces? Why must girls yearn for the masculine, the rough? Is it so bad for a girl to just want something soft and sweet? Something beautiful?
Her lips were soft, pressing against the most ticklish spots, caressing the line of her neck and down along her collarbone. Her fingers were long and they touched all the right places, skimming over the bare flesh of Brittany's abdomen, goose bumps rising all along her skin. A throaty chuckle left the blonde's lips as the fingertips pressed more eagerly into her skin, lowering past the fabric clinging to her hips. Brittany's own fingers knotted into the dark, soft hair, rippled across the bronze shoulders that hovered over her. As the fingers moved lower, Brittany breathed out shakily, her body tensing against the touch. "Santana…" The name fell from her lips, barely more than a whisper, and Santana lifted her head from the crook of her neck, looking down at her. Her full lips curved into a smirk and her dark eyes bore into Brittany's.
"Brittany." She said, her voice husky and lustful, the very sound of it causing Brittany to close her eyes, urging her hips forward, against her hand. But when she opened her eyes again, everything was hazier, the face hovering over her unclear. "Brittany." Santana called again, her voice less luring than before. Again, she called the blonde's name, her voice warbling and mutating into one not belonging to they think, lithe figure that quickly seemed to be fading. Again, Brittany closed her eyes tightly, trying to focus. When she opened them, she saw not her friend and co-Cheerio, but her mother, hovering over her and smiling brightly.
"Brittany? OH! You're awake! Good! It's time for you to get ready for school!" Her mother's voice was cheery and sickeningly sweet. Sighing, she rolled over, pulling her quilt over her head and clamping her eyes shut tightly. But instead of seeing Santana's face, like she wanted, it was only dark. "Come down when you're ready, Bug!" Her mother's footsteps receded down the steps and begrudgingly, Brittany sat up. She hated Mondays.
Shower, shave, moisturize, apply make up, style hair, get dressed. It was a familiar schedule. Even a kindergartener could do it. Which was precisely why Brittany succeeded at it so well. As she skipped down the stairs, two at a time, her pony tail bouncing over her shoulder, Brittany smiled for no apparent reason. She could smell waffles in the kitchen, and she inhaled deeply, wallowing in the warm, vanilla-y smell. "Mmm, waffles. My favorite." She commented dreamily as she walked through the kitchen, picking up the cup she knew had her morning shake and the brown bag that had another shake for lunch and a package of zebra cakes that she would give to Becky, because her parents said she couldn't have sugar. She pressed her lips to her father's temple wordlessly as she passed him on her way towards the door. "Learn lots, make smart choices." He called after her, not looking up from the paper in his hands.
At the door, Brittany's mother held her bag out to her daughter, who quickly kissed her on the cheek, taking the bag and slinging it over her shoulder and skipping down the steps to her porch and jogging down the driveway to where Santana sat in her car, waiting. "Morning!" She chimed as she slipped into the seat beside her, sucking on the straw of her shake and beaming. A groan passed the brunette's lips as she rolled her eyes, driving off toward school.
"You are way too bright and shiny in the morning."
Being a Cheerio meant a lot of things. It meant boys wanted you. It meant girls wanted to be you. It meant that, even though waffles smelled warm, sweet and vanilla-y, you had to have a morning protein shake (Brittany liked chocolate or strawberry days). It meant that you didn't have to worry about what you wore to school, because every day, you wore your uniform.
But most importantly? It meant you were the leaders of the school.
As Brittany walked down the hall, following closely behind Santana, people parted ways for her, cowered against their lockers, looked down at the ground to avoid looking her in the eye. Santana told her in the beginning that it was because they feared her. She didn't believe it now, because she was about as frightening as a small puppy (the little bitty ones that fit in cups), but she knew now that it was true. If someone got in her way, they feared being pushed down by Santana, or thrown into a locker by some jock. If a boy asked her out, they feared the mostly inevitable rejection. And when a teacher failed her on an assignment, they feared the wrath of Sue Sylvester raining down on them like fire. She was untouchable. And she liked it.
Today was just like any other day as she walked down the hall, the seas of people parting like they did every day. The familiar vacant smile twisted her lips, flashing the two perfect rows of unnaturally white teeth, and her pony tail bounced behind her. It was almost as if they were walking in slow motion, like they do in movies when important people entered the room. But as she looked down the hall, Brittany caught sight of someone who made her smile quickly fade, and everything sped up to normal pace.
Noah Puckerman.
"I thought he was in Juvie. Didn't he steal an ATV or something?" She tried hard not to let her disappointment seep into her tone as she leaned toward Santana, but Brittany only sounded confused. Santana was rummaging through her locker and cast only a cursory glance toward Puck, remaining beyond cool.
"ATM, and he was let out early. Not that I care." Her tone was completely unaffected, but Brittany knew better. She cared. So did the wide-eyed blonde. As she leaned against the beige locker beside Santana's, she watched Noah, watching as the nightly "study sessions" with her best friend seemed to dissipate before her eyes. Puck was back. No more pretending Santana was a lizard and Brittany was the warm rock.
She pouted slightly, looking down at her white shoes and hugging her books to her chest. When Puck passed them, he said something to Santana, and she rolled her eyes, shooting some snide comment back. To outsiders, it looked like they couldn't stand each other. Hated each other even. But Brittany knew that it was just how they were, that it was just a matter of time until they were all over each other. Her eyes remained fixed to the ground for a while longer, lost in thought. Which was rare for Brittany.
"Brittany?"
Looking up, she saw Santana before her, and suddenly, Brittany's dream flooded back to her, turning her cheeks pink. "Hey! We should go study at my house tonight. Mom's making meatloaf." Brittany smiled hopefully. They fell into step, side by side, heading towards class. It wasn't just the making out and such that she liked about Santana. It was the way she laughed. And how her hair smelled like she just came out of the shower when it was out of it's pony tail. And how she was ticklish above her belly button and behind her ears. The little things from how she chewed her lower lip when she was thinking to how she bobbed her head to the beat in the car. A smile crept across her lips, like it always did, as she thought of all these things.
"Yeah, we'll see. I'll have to see what Puck is doing first." Brittany's face fell. It wasn't like she wanted Santana to be in love with her. Not really, anyways. She just wished she wasn't always second to Puck. He wasn't even that hot.
"You okay, Britt?"
Brittany smiled widely at Santana, nodding. "So, I was watching High School Musical last night… I think Zac Efron is secretly a girl…" Santana laughed and rolled her eyes, the sound bringing a genuine smile to Brittany's lips again, and they walked down the hall. Discreetly, the blonde dropped her hand beside hers, her smile widening when her pinky looped about her own.
End of chapter one.
I love this pairing *sigh*
Anyways… That's the first one… Its not too bad, right? At least I hope.
And it's a bit short, but hopefully I'll be able to remedy that later.
Hope it's tolerable! If not enjoyable!
Like I said before, reviews are appreciated, positive or negative.
Until next time ...!
