Thanks for all the reviews guys! They make me happy :)
Like super happy that it makes me write, so keep it going!
BY THE WAY, I'm going to change the title to Bully and Benefits soon. So just a heads up to avoid this story from being deleted.
Title: Fuck Buddies
Summary: It wasn't like she had a choice in this matter. She knows she never had a choice anyways. After all, that girl was irresistible, who is Brittany to deny her? G!P HotNerd!Brittany, Popular!Santana
Pairing: Brittany, Santana
Rating: M
"Brittany?" Are you alright?" Mike asks me as we sat down on our designated cafeteria table near the opening doors. I snap my head up and stare back at his black eyes.
"Huh? Yeah I am. Why would you ask that?" I ask, crinkling my eyebrows as I go back to mindlessly playing with my food.
"I think its obvious enough that you're not feeling okay." He replies, ducking his head down to peek at me as I smile sadly at him.
Of course I'm not okay. Why wouldn't I be? It's been a week since day—night 2 with Santana and ever since then, I've just been watching her across the hallway or just staring at my phone all night wondering when she'd call me. I'm starting to think she gave up on this fuck buddy business—and yes, maybe I should be happy because it'll save me from a whole world of hurt but this relationship is the closest thing I have to getting with Santana.
Call me desperate.
I shrug my shoulders and sigh. "Maybe I'm just sad that Tina's not eating with us anymore."
And apparently, that's a mini-reason why I'm upset also. A few days ago, Mike and Tina—the super Asian forever couple—broke up because Mike found out that Tina was cheating on him with Noah. Harsh right? I'm pretty sure Noah's doing this because he hates Mike's guts. He's trying to make him emotionally broken so that the football coach would degrade him from being captain in case his emotional rollercoaster bothers him in the field. Then that would result to giving the captain title to Noah instead.
Well planned but he forgot one thing, Mike's Asian and he's smart. As much as he loves Tina, he realizes that if she was able to have sex with another guy while she was with him then that's not love at all. So he moved on pretty quickly but he still gets hurt around the subject because more than a lover, Tina was his bestest friend too—other than me of course.
"Sad? Why would you be sad about that?" he laughs, shaking his head at me with disgust. So okay, lets say he's really pissed at her too. I would be too! Like hello, she gave away Mike Chang abs.
I chuckle at him, knowing he's a bit touchy about the subject but also over it. "I don't know because she's our best friend?"
He puts his finger up and waggles it. "Nope." He says, popping his lips. "She is not our best friend because what kind of friend would say yes to drugging the cupcakes the cheerleaders would give to me and work along with them by making sure that during the whole party, I was never ever near you." he exaggerates, flopping his arms everywhere.
I frown at this because yeah, that's true too. During the party, Tina was in on the scam and made sure Mike was never near me at all, always keeping a distance from me because she knew even if he was high and hit, he'd come down eventually and turn back to overprotective Mike.
"She was just jealous—" I reasoned out, biting my lower lip.
Mike gives me a surprised look. "Jealous? Yeah, why would she even be jealous of you?"
I smile at this. It seemed like Tina thought Mike had a big crush on me and wanted me to learn my lesson during the party. "Who wouldn't be jealous of me?" I joked back, wagging my eyebrows as Mike throws his head back and laughs at me.
He points a finger at me and winks. "Touche Pierce."
We laugh some more before dismissing the subject and finishing our food, my appetite suddenly coming back as I smile at Mike with thanks. I'm so grateful he's my best friend and unlike Tina, I would never do such a thing to him. He notices my stare and looks up from his bowl and winks at me again.
"I'm single now Britt-Britt." He coos, flexing his arms at me as I roll my eyes at him.
"And I'm gay." I joke back, snickering at him as he drops his shoulders.
"Damn it."
English class. Mrs. Summer's seems to be late because the class is already 30 minutes done and she's still not coming in. I'm just busy reading the selection for next week's assignment when I feel a paper plane hitting the back of my neck. It doesn't hurt, but it caught me by surprise.
So I swivel my butt in the seat and look at the group of jocks and cheerios laughing at me with big faces.
"Sorry Pierce, can you pick that up?" one of the jocks, Finn, asks me—brown eyes staring down at the plane on the floor.
Should I pick it up? Or maybe I shouldn't. I don't know really because to me it seems stupid to pick up a paper plane and… give it back to a big, buff guy.
Maybe I should just—
And before I could bend down and grab the plane, somebody's already doing that for me. I smell cinnamon and vanilla as brown hair covers my face and disappears again. I look up to the person who picked up the plane for me and inwardly gasp when I see it's Santana.
Did she just—?
Finn gives her an amused look though. "Oh, what's this? Can this be true? The great Santana Lopez helping out the nerd?" he gasps, causing the group of popular people to laugh along.
Santana rolls her eyes and smirks at him. "First of all lumpy, I'm not helping this loser out." She snarls, side-eyeing me as I feel my cheeks blush. "I only got this because I'm the Vice President of this school and as much as I hate rules, no. littering." She hisses, crumping the plane to a ball before throwing it at Finn's face—hitting him right in the eye as he groans in pain and cups his eye.
I'm about to open my mouth to say thank you when all of a sudden I feel Santana's hand grabbing my hair tightly and tugging me closer to her body and I whimper because it kinda hurts. "And this blondie—" she shouts, looking at everyone in the room. "—This is my target. Bully her all you want, but first you all gotta' get my permission first." She ends, throwing my head back as I fix my messy hair.
She walks to the seats beside one of the cheerios and narrows her eyes on a few of them. "So next time you want to torture blondie with some small baby airplane—" she goes on, laughing at Finn because yeah, it's quite stupid and kindergarten to bully someone with a paper plane. "—Think of something better to do because you're just lame Hudson." And with that she plops down on her seat and all the jocks and cheerleaders that were once fascinated by Finn turned to Santana and started talking to her non-stop.
I smile at her even though she doesn't see me and giggle at Finn who's glaring at Santana while whining about his eye as even the jocks don't ask if he was okay.
Nibbling on my bottom lip, I can't help but feel happy because at least Santana thinks of me as her property—well, on the torture side.
Fuck, I'm sick—I'm happy because I'm her slave? Yeah, there must be something wrong with me and I swivel in my seat to face the front again as I turn to the next page of my book.
Mrs. Summer's never came inside but a substitute teacher did and he's hot. Don't ask me, ask all the girls in my class who followed him like a hawk as soon as he walked through the doors of the room.
"Hola, clase." He must be the new Spanish teacher that got hired when the old one didn't even know how to speak it. And the accent just made every girl melt in their seats. I laugh because its so funny to look at. "Mrs. Summer's is sick and I'll be filling in today." He explains, green eyes turning to look at the clock in the top wall behind me. "For the last 10 minutes." He adds, laughing and making every girl laugh with him too.
I furrow my eyebrows and scan the room because they're acting quite ridiculous right now. He's twice our age, they can't possibly think of him in that way. They can dream, but its just not going to happen.
"So she left me with an assignment for you all." He drags, tapping his pencil on his head as he pulls out a sheet of paper from inside his folder. "You're going be grouped and then present this next week."
Everybody groans and I can't help but blush because I guess I was the only one who was jumping on my seat in excitement. I love group works, it makes me get to know other people—even if I'm already a senior and only have Mike as a friend. Pity.
"Oh—scratch that, it's a pair work." He corrects himself, smiling to the class as I feel people sighing at him, their bodies almost fainting.
What. The. Heck.
"So as I call your name, sit beside each other and I don't know, with 5 minutes left I guess you can just say hi." He says, gesturing his hands around before he started to call names. And I'm half-jumping in my seat because I'm wondering who's going to be my partner… I just really hope it isn't Santana—
"Lopez and Pierce." He announces, causing all heads to turn to both of us. My jaw drops and I feel my skin turn paler.
"Como?" I hear her sultry sexy voice ask in disbelief from the group behind me. "Excuse me, can you repeat what you just said?"
The Spanish teacher eyes her with something in his eye, probably curiosity because she speaks Spanish too. "You're Lopez right?"
I can feel her rolling her eyes at him. "Yes." She answers.
He smiles at her. "Okay then, you're paired with Pierce." He says, crossing his arms together. "And that's it class—go say hi because you only have 3 minutes left."
There's shuffling all around the room and I stay frozen in my seat, contemplating if I should stand up and go to Santana or wait for her here. I'm nibbling on my lower lip as I slowly turn around in my seat and look at my crush.
She's just sitting there, playing with her nails while listening to the group beside her and I can see that she has no plan on walking to me. So I sigh, gather my things and stand up to go to her when my book falls. Groaning, I bend down to pick it up just as the bell rings and my eyes widen as I snap my body back up and avert my eyes around the room, looking for Santana.
Too busy finding her is a bad thing because now she's right beside me and before I know it, she's bumping her shoulder against my own as she decides to pass by me. I fall back on my seat and whimper.
"Too slow blondie." She says, smirking at me before going out of the room, leaving me in a chair that's halfway down because she bumped me too hard. It's a good thing I was holding on to the edge of the table or I'd fall.
Looking up at the ceiling, I close my eyes and let out a deep sigh. Santana Lopez is definitely going to be the death of me, and I don't mind at all.
6am. Saturday morning.
That's when I got my first ever text from Santana. I was jogging through the park when I got the text, it alerted when the song blasting through my phones stopped playing. I come to slow jog at the end of the corner and stop by the playground as I pluck out my phone from the iPod belt strap around my right arm.
Panting, I slide my phone open and read the text.
My house. Now.
I don't stop panting as I wipe the sweat out of my forehead and look around me at the empty park. It's 6am in the morning and Santana just texted me to come over her house. Who in the world wants someone to come to their house at 6am in the morning? And for sex too? Oh god, I just ran and now I'm being called to have sex with her in the morning? Should I say I'll be there around an hour and rest and shower first?
Another ring from my phone.
And any minute late, I'm kicking you out of the house.
With wide eyes, I start running to the direction of Santana's house. It's a good thing her house is somewhat near this park as well. Let's just say.
I feel my heart beating out of my chest as I see Santana's house that's 6 houses down the long road of homes. I'm panting so hard and I really just want to stop jogging because I've been jogging for over an hour when before I knew it, I'm outside her house and removing my earphones.
Taking deep breaths, I steady myself as I cup my cheeks and feel how warm it is. I should've just texted her I went out on a jog and could go home to get my car but I guess I was scared she was actually going to get me kicked out of her house. Also because I'm whipped and well, yeah.
"What did you do? Run a marathon?" Santana chided at me as she walks out of the front door in just short shorts and a tank top. I'm still crouching on my knees, taking many deep breaths but I still manage to rotate my head to her with an open mouth.
"I—" I panted, my lungs going nuts. "I—I was out on a jog." I replied, explaining myself as to why I'm in this current state.
She arches an eyebrow at me and gives me an amused stare. "And you couldn't just take your car?" she asks like it was the most obvious thing to do.
After another exhale, I stand up and scratch the back of my neck, blushing. "I kind of walked to the park." I mumbled, shy.
Santana hums, clucking her tongue before eyeing me up and down and I really want to just cover myself because I'm just in a sports bra and short Nike shorts. She smirks though, obviously loving what I'm wearing—or should I say half-wearing and licks her lips sensually.
"Well I'm not complaining." She husks, brown eyes turning a dark shade as I gulp at her stare, feeling very—uncomfortable.
"S-So you asked for me?" I ask, wanting to change the subject because if she wants to have sex now, I need to at least catch a few breaths.
But then Santana's eyes change to a different shade. I could probably tell you all the emotions Santana goes through just by the change in her eye color. It's fascinating for me to know this and I cant help but realize more and more that I am definitely in love with her.
"I did, but don't get too cocky because you're not getting into my pants—" she says, holding a finger up. "—Not yet at least."
My blue eyes narrow on her in question. "Why do you want me here then?" I ask, biting my inner cheek.
Santana side-eyes me from where she stands and crosses her arms together. "I heard something." She replies.
This makes me even more confused. "You heard something?" I ask, repeating her words.
She nods her head a couple of times. "Yes. I heard something, blondie." She hisses, rolling her eyes. "Around 4am there was some rustling going on in the kitchen and I couldn't get any sleep." She mumbles, looking away—probably embarrassed.
So cute.
I smile at her, sniffling a giggle. "Wait—were you scared?—"
She snaps her head back at me and glares. "I wasn't scared." She growled, teeth gritting together. "I just didn't want to die yet." She counters back simply, shrugging her shoulders.
"B-But did something happen then?"
Santana nibbles on her bottom lip. "I don't know, I didn't check the kitchen." She mutters, not bothering to look back at my eyes that were just admiring her post-bed morning look. "Like—what if I went in and checked? I wouldn't be talking to you right now if there was some hobo trying to get on my body." She huffs, rolling her eyes.
But I can see through her, she's really scared, as in frighteningly scared. And who wouldn't be? Her parents left her alone in the house almost all her life and of course she'd be scared with no company—even if she's used to it.
I tilt my head to the side and offer her a sweet but also shy, smile. "You're scared." I point out, giggling.
Santana's eyes widen at me. "I am not." She growls with a fixed glare. "I just need bait."
That gets me confused. "Bait?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows.
She smirks at me and nods. "You heard me, I need bait." She says again, chuckling. "As in, you—blondie—are my bait to check if there's a burglar in my house."
Okay, what the hell?
"So—how are you able to go out of your house when there's a burglar in yours?" I ask some more because Santana's situation is totally confusing me. "Is this some kind of prank?" I gasp, eyes wide in alert.
Santana slaps my arm though, and rolls her eyes at me.
When did she get so close?
"Oh chill out would you? Who pranks a loser at 6am in the goddamn morning?"
True that.
"And—my kitchen's in the back door end—the stairs from my room is in the front so I kind of dashed out here." She explains with a few hand gestures. "So are you going to get in there and get killed for me or what?" she huffs, stomping her feet down.
I arch an eyebrow at her. "I don't want to die yet." I mumble jokingly, grinning at Santana's expression because she's totally scared. And I know there's not a burglar inside—how do I know that? I'm going to counter back her statement, who steals things from a house at 4-6am in the morning? Bright morning.
She shrugs her shoulders at me. "Better now than later." She bites back, turning to look at the front door of her house as my jaw drops at her reply.
Is she for real?
"I'd rather die later—" I say absentmindedly, tapping my chin. "—After I get married, have kids and start my career as the only and best white-blonde rapper in the world."
Santana just gives me a what-the-fuck look. "That's your dream for the future?"
I smirk and snicker at her. "Not the rapper, I was joking." I replied, hoping to make her laugh but her face is just not moving.
"Okay—" she drags, cocking her hip to the side. "Can you now go in and meet your death now please?"
I shake my head furiously, wanting to play this on some more. "No, it never said in our contract to die for the other." I stated, biting my inner cheek—it's a habit of mine.
Although, Santana doesn't look too happy at me saying 'no' to her. "It said to do whatever the other wants you to do—" she fights back with a smug smirk.
"—for sexual reasons only." I correctly added, laughing as I see Santana's jaw drop again.
Shaking her head, Santana brings her hands up and says, "Okay do you want me to add that rule then blondie? Because I can add rules."
That's when I decided to stop playing around as I roll my eyes at her and giggle. "Fine, I'll go in." I say, walking pass her.
Santana cups her mouth and whispers loudly, "Rest in peace."
Pouting at her, I grab her hand and ignore the feeling of sparks flying over my eyelids as I drag Santana towards her front door too—which is kind of a struggle because she's kicking me away from her.
"What the fuck are you doing blondie?" she screams, trying her hardest to pull out of my grip. "I didn't say I'd die with you."
She's really taking this non-burglary seriously.
And its funny because if we were surrounded by our batchmates, I'd never have the guts to talk normally to Santana and even drag her inside her house. And I guess the same goes for her because she'd never talk to me in front of others, just only when we're alone—I know she feels comfy.
We're halfway near her kitchen when she stops and grabs one of the handles by the kitchen door, halting my movements. "Wha—"
"Listen here blondie—" she growls, glaring right at my blue eyes. "—Let go of me or I'm going to beat you up."
I try to hold my laughter at her. "Santana—there's nothing wro—"
"I said let go." She barks, eyes pleading at me but also angry at me. "I'm going to call the police."
I grinned at her for this. "Why didn't you do that in the first place?" I ask, chuckling as Santana's face pales in realization and then blushes while avoiding my stare. I know why she's blushing, and I think I'm blushing too because I have the biggest smile on my face.
Why? Because she thought of me, she called me, and only me when she thought there was a person inside her house. And usually, you'd call the police but no, she thought of me first.
"Don't get it to your head." She huffs, suddenly knowing what I'm thinking. "I actually didn't call the police 'cuz they're gonna ask me why I live alone and I'm turning 18 months later so this isn't legal." She excused herself which, I would believe if she didn't blush seconds ago.
"Right." I drag, clucking my tongue as I let go of her wrist. "Wish me luck then." I joke, swiveling on the balls of my feet as I open her kitchen door and examine the place.
Empty. See? No burglar—
Thump.
"Fuck."
It's Black. White. Color—what am I saying? Oh that's right I'm dizzy because somebody—just punched me on the face. Ugh, that hurt. Is that blood? Shit, my nose is bleeding. Wow, I'm dizzy—like really dizzy—is that Santana? Oh god—no, the guy's going to her, I should stop—woah.
Blinking my eyes a couple of times to adjust to the lighting, I groan and crack my stiff neck. I open my eyes and see that I'm inside someone's room. Fuck, am I kidnapped?
"Finally. I was about to leave your fainting body outside on the sidewalk." Says a voice that I'm very much familiar with.
I rub my forehead and sit up on her bed, feeling something stuck on my nose as I cross my eyes and stare down at it. There's a white sticky thing covering my nose.
"It's a cooler." She says, leaning on her door. "Like an ice—you know how high-tech we are nowadays."
Moving my nose up and down, I cringe when it started to sting at some point. "Shit. That hurt." I whine, eyes dropping.
Santana chuckles at me. "Didn't think you could curse so simply, Pierce." She points out, kicking her door close. "And of course it hurts, you got punched good."
I frown at her as I watch her smirk at me in a i-told-you-so manner. So okay, she was right—there was some guy in her kitchen stealing god knows what, but hey—that happens only once in a blue moon.
Speaking of the burglar—
My eyes widen as I look around her room. "Wait, the guy! Where is he?"
Santana shrugs her shoulders and sits on the foot of the bed. "Turns out he was a real hobo. He left as soon as he punched you." she explains, combing her hair. "And lucky for me he just stole the cereal box of Lucky Charms."
I scrunch my eyebrows and look at her like I can't believe all of this happened and now its—10am. My parents would be looking for me if I don't text them soon.
"How do you know?" I ask, trying to keep conversation as I hug my legs close to my upper body.
Santana grins. "He told me."
What?
"What?" I voiced out my thoughts, eyes staring at her like this isn't real. "He just told you?"
She nods her head. "Whatever, he doesn't know the difference between food and jewelry."
I cluck my tongue and hum, that's kind of true.
But as I stay in my post-dazed look, still not quite believing something like this just happened, I didn't notice Santana crawling on top of me until she pulled my legs and pushed my upper body down on her bed—flat. My eyes go wide as I stare at her swing her right leg over me and sit on my crotch.
"San—"
"Kinda got horny with your abs on display today." She confesses, licking her lips as she stares down at my exposed stomach. "Very horny."
That's right, she's kind of obsessed with my abs.
"And since you're hurt and injured, I'm guessing we can do that nurse-patient kink." She husks, twirling a piece of hair as she stretches over my head and unties my pony. "Plus your after-jogging look is super sexy too."
And with that being said, I'm frozen and speechless as she ducks down and licks the expanse of my neck, biting my ear before pushing back up and leaning down to kiss my lips. I kiss her back and try to make it deeper but she bites my lip as a sign of no.
Furrowing my eyebrows in frustration, Santana moves her lips to my covered nose and kisses it gently, almost like she's scared it might break—but you know what did break? My heart. In a good way. It's crumpling at the sweet gesture and I sigh as I feel my heart beating faster than ever at her again. Always.
Santana sits back up on my lap and smirks. "This is a thank you for being brave for me." She chuckles, wiggling her butt on my crotch as she reaches her right hand out to go under my tight bra when we both stiffen our bodies at the sound of a doorbell going off.
It's silent for a while and I'm kind of sexually frustrated, especially since Santana's clothed pussy is practically on top of my clothed dick. And, also, who won't get frustrated with her fingers touching right below my breasts? And who wouldn't get frustrated with me practically half-naked already.
The door bell rings again.
And then, because Santana's window is open, we hear someone shout from below, "Santana open up!"
It's Quinn.
"Shit." She curses, dropping down so that our foreheads would touch and I'm busy staring at her beautiful face while her mocha brown eyes are closed shut. "Fuck you Fabray." She huffs, licking her lips and I really want to kiss her back—its been a week.
"Santana I know you're awake!" The girl shouts again, right below the window—Quinn must have seen it open. "You texted me a minute ago saying a hobo went inside your house and ran away."
And that breaks my heart.
I thought I was some sort of special person in Santana's brain. I thought she wouldn't tell anyone about this special adventure of ours because it's like a story worth telling your grandchildren. I thought she wouldn't even want to tell anyone I'm in her house because it's against her moto but then that's where the problem hits.
She told Quinn she was alone or else Quinn wouldn't even come here. I wasn't even worth telling to her fellow cheerio friend that I was inside her house, with an aching nose.
I don't know if Santana sensed it—my feelings and all but she sighs, swings her legs out of my body before fixing her hair and walking to the open widow, peeking her head out. "Can you quiet down? A girl's trying to get her sleep here since a hobo decided to be homey in my house at around 4am in the morning." She snarls at Quinn who's probably rolling her eyes at Santana right now.
And ouch, she even lied about me too.
I mean, I should have seen this coming. Santana doesn't want me as a friend, she doesn't want people to know she talks to me and I should slowly accept the fact. And I am getting there, I'm just taking baby steps.
"Well open the door 'cuz I'm coming in." Quinn shouts back and Santana scoffs at her.
"I'm going out." She screams back, turning on the balls of her feet as she bends down and grabs a sweater, pulling it over her tank top. I just lay there, watching here get into comfy clothes before tying her hair up in a bun with my hair tie. She doesn't bother saying anything to me as I bite my lower lip and glance at her through my eyelashes.
"Should I—" I try asking—asking if I should leave or wait or say hi to Quinn with her or whatever.
Santana holds a finger out to me. "Don't make a noise, I don't want Quinn hearing you." she hisses in a low whisper, knowing full well that her window is open and if Quinn were listening intently, she'd hear our voices.
Without anything more said, Santana steps out of her room and I'm licking my lips as I wait for her voice from the open window.
I hear a muffled sound of the front door closing before Santana's saying hi to Quinn. I bet they're hugging and Quinn's asking if she's okay too.
"Yeah I'm good." Came the distant voice of my crush.
"Did he hurt you?" Quinn asks.
I can feel Santana shaking her head. "No, I'm fine Quinn." She states, not wanting anymore questions.
"Do you want to go get some brunch then?"
My eyes widen and I abruptly sit up on bed as I feel a smile tugging on my lips. That's right, Santana didn't eat yet. She probably took care of me since this morning when I got punched in the face and the least I can do is cook her some pancakes right? Yes, that could express my thanks to her—and I touch my covered nose shyly because see? Santana is sweet.
And Quinn? Santana's totally going to reject her. I mean, I'm sure she is. Because she wouldn't leave me at her home, especially when she's horny. She said she was horny.
So with a quick dash out of her room, I ran down her stairs and hesitantly go inside her kitchen once again, opening up a couple of drawers and cabinets for the pancake mix. After the 5th cabinet, I found it and I squeal in joy, pulling it out and throwing it near the stove. I shimmy my butt and do some sort of foot dancing on the way to the stove and switch it on. Cooking makes me dance—like its so fun to cook while dancing and it's a really big habit of mine.
I think of a song and grab kitchen tools and boom, I'm dancing.
It's not too hard to find the pans and as soon as I'm pouring all the contents to make the batter in the bowl, I hear the front door opening and closing then footsteps approaching the kitchen.
"Okay, I'm not afraid to face you this time hobo—" Santana's voice stops as she kicks the door open with a broom on her hand, eyeing me wearily. "Blondie?" she says, dropping the broom.
I flick my hair back and smile at her shyly as I finished mixing the batter, my free hand just over the pan on the stove to check if it's hot enough.
"What're you doing in my kitchen?" she huffs, crossing her arms just below her chest, clearly not happy to see me by the stove—cooking something for her. Isn't this what ladies want? For them to be cooked for?
"I told you not to go out of my room." She scolds me, cocking her hips to the side while planting her hands there next.
I shake my head and slightly grinned. "No, you said not to make a sound." I correct her, grabbing a wooden spoon to mix the batter more well.
Santana's eyes glints into something and this is a new shade, something I haven't seen before.
"Right—" she drawls, clucking her tongue. "But I didn't say you could cook inside my fucking kitchen too."
Placing the bowl on top of the kitchen counter—I blush upon remembering our activities there—I lean on the palm of my hands and tilt my head to the side. "I—I just wanted to express my thanks—for taking care of me." I stutter out, nibbling on my lower lip.
She stares at the bowl and frowns at me, clearly not satisfied. "And you show your thanks by using my food in my kitchen?" she asks me back, trying to tell me that I did something rude.
Was it rude?
I lick my lips and play with the already-done batter. "I didn't think of it in a bad way…" I say lowly, and what's going through my head right now is that I have no words. Santana's just really different and unreal right now.
Santana clears her throat to dismiss the awkward silence and steps forward, the only thing separating us is the counter. "Okay, look Blondie, you can show your thanks by cleaning up this mess and getting out of my house."
Wait, she's kicking me out?—Again? And because of Quinn—again.
I snap my head up and frown at her. She can't do this when I'm trying to make an effort. "What? Why?" I ask sadly even though I already knew why.
Just keep the conversation going Brittany.
Santana shrugs her shoulders and nudges her chin to the front door of her house. "Quinn and I are going to eat breakfast, so there's no need for that." she replies, narrowing her eyes on the bowl of batter. "Unless you want to eat it—but I'm not leaving you in my house alone." She scoffs, and it makes me upset to think she doesn't feel safe with me in her house.
"B-But Santana…" I try, doing my best to make her stay and not pick Quinn. "I—I can cook you pancakes…" I mumble out, tucking a loose strand of hair.
Santana eyes me, and there's a bit of a silence before she smacks her lips and taps the counter with her fingers. "Yeah well, I didn't ask you to." She fires back but her usual tense voice is somewhat pleading, like she's pleading for me not to be sweet to her and cook her pancakes.
"But I want to." I fire back, biting my inner cheek. "Please stay?" I beg, closing my eyes for a second.
I'm really praying she cares—but no, me begging her to stay seemed to explode something inside of her.
"Okay did you not hear me blondie?" she hisses, slamming her hands down. "I. Am. Going. To. Eat. With. Quinn—my bestie." She says with each word intensely. "And correct me if I'm wrong but you on the other hand, are not my bestie."
I whimper at her words.
"Now I appreciate you being here as my bait for that hobo—" she chuckles sarcastically. "—but I'd appreciate it even more if you go and take that batter with you—out of my house. Comprende?"
I stay there, unmoving before our silence is interrupted by the insistent knocking on the door. Quinn was getting impatient.
"Look, Quinn's waiting. I'll call you when I call you." she ends with a huff, pushing off the counter as she leaves me there with a lonely batter bowl—and her footsteps going up to her room being the only thing evading my ears.
Leaning back to calm myself, I bite my lip and shake my head. I have to snap out of this, being her servant—slave—whatever. I deserve to spend time with Santana. I deserve to spend time with her because I'm a better friend than Quinn—I know I am, Quinn talks badly about Santana behind her back and that's not what best friends are. Mike and I are what you call best friends. So, with determined eyes, I clench my fists and stomp my way towards the front door, ready to tell Quinn to go home because Santana is eating breakfast with me.
Just as my fingers hold the door knob, I feel someone pulling my shorts hard and throwing me away, making me land on Santana's carpet floor in the living room. I groan because my nose landed on the ground too and then I peek up at Santana who's staring at me with the widest eyes I've ever seen.
"Santana?" comes the muffled voice of Quinn Fabray.
She glares at me and points at my face. "What the fuck is your problem." She hisses lowly, hoping to not make Quinn hear. "I'm just putting on my shoes!" she then yells, her tan ear pressing against the door to hear any signs of Quinn wanting to go in.
"Okay, hurry up." Then the echoes of her shoes go away before Santana's glaring back at me again.
"When I leave, you better leave." She hisses, gritting her teeth.
I frown at her, push myself up and grab her cheeks, leaning down to give her a rough kiss.
And I know she moaned, I heard her so—and it makes me smirk because even if she hates me, she can't handle me. I know she gets weak with my kisses so when I disconnect our lips and stare back at her brown eyes, they're brighter. Bright in joy. So I take a deep breath and say,
"We have a rule that says we always have to be available for the person when she needs you—" I ramble, feeling my heartbeat quicken. "A-And, I need you." I tell her, pushing her to cancel with Quinn.
Santana's staring at me though, rather intensely.
It's so intense that her shoulders deflate and I'm about to skip to the kitchen and finish her breakfast and then fine—have sex with her because it's part of the rules when all of a sudden, I feel her push me back by my abs.
I frown. She can't say no.
She exhales and doesn't dare look at me as she says, "Rule 8." She states, straightening up her back. Is she really going to start a new rule? "Don't interfere with the other if she's trying to make a move on her crush." She says softly, making my face pale.
"W—ait, you—you like Quinn?" I ask, exasperated.
Santana doesn't say anything, she almost looks confused. Shrugging her shoulders, she nods. "Yeah—" she stutters, nodding her head again. "—Long time crush. So uhm now you know… so see ya blondie." She mutters, opening the door and giving me one last look before closing it.
I fall to the wall and slide down 'till my butt hits the floor.
Shouldn't that rule be applicable to me too? She shouldn't interfere when I'm making a move on her because… I have a crush on her.
Lips trembling, I fight my tears away and sob.
Santana Lopez.
Everybody knows I'm the top bitch of this school, I own this place—and one thing I own too is the blonde nerd chatting away with Mike the great Chang on their cafeteria table. That's right, I owns that girl with the bluest eyes in this school. Like it or not, she's great at sex.
And she's—well, great at being nice too. She's a nerd after all. Like nobody's ever wanted to cook pancakes for me before or come to my house at 6am because some hobo likes my Luck Charms cereal—but yeah, Blondie's different. But only in a slave kind of way. If there was a slave competition I'd say she wins it all.
And just like that day with her in my house again, I really wanted to get away from her. I don't know why but seeing her cook pancakes for me just really annoyed me. So I said I was going to have brunch with Quinn—but fuck, I forgot she's smart and nerdy so she just had to pull out one of the rules.
I had to think fast and thus, the most logical and safest way to go—is—is to make a new rule and say you can't interfere with crushes. But gross, Quinn and I are never going to happen. She's straight and I love girls that don't like to cheat on men. And talk behind my back too.
So to my surprise, as I'm sitting here at the cheerios table, one of the girls—a newbie, Marley with bright blue eyes, brings up the nerd to a conversation.
"Don't you guys think Brittany Pierce is pretty?" she asks, eyes twinkling.
Everybody stops eating and stares at her, and I smirk because ha, no one's going to want to talk about Blondie.
"Are you kidding me?" someone suddenly shouts, causing a few others to say it along with her. I frown at this. "Pierce's smoking hot." Bree says, chuckling. "If she were a cheerio, she'd be the hottest one walking around—and that's coming from me." She chides, causing others to nod along.
Marley giggles and puckers her lips a bit. "So why does everyone hate her?"
I try to not say anything and just hear what's going on.
"It's not like we hate her, it's just that she's the nerd and we're the cheerleaders. So we show her that we hate her because that's the system." Quinn explains from beside me with a few hand gestures.
Bree chuckles and nods at that. "That's exactly it. But other than that, she's definitely pretty. I was actually waiting for one of the guy's to start asking her out but they're too scared because of her being a loser."
Kitty jumps into it and points her fork at Marley. "That is also true, they're wimps but I know everyone wants to get inside her pants—even the ladies." She hums, chewing on an apple after saying that.
My frown just gets deeper. They don't even know what she's packing underneath those pants of hers.
"Well lucky are the ladies—" Quinn says, smirking. "Because Brittany is 100% gay."
All the cheerleaders gasp and giggle along, I had to follow with them too.
Marley leans forward on the table and winks at everyone. "Well then guys I guess you all know what I'm doing next." She hums out, wagging her eyebrows as she moves her blue eyes to fucking stare at my loser.
Scowling, I cross my arms together in a threatening motion. "What? Are you going to ask her out?" I scoff, rolling my eyes.
"Maybe." Marley hums, smiling to herself. "I mean, I just came out—and I think Brittany would be a perfect girlfriend." She explains herself, smiling some more.
"What if she doesn't even like you?" I huff out loud, causing others to nod along with me.
Marley smirks at me and I see her blue eyes darkening. "I'll find out then, huh?"
That left me speechless.
No way.
No way is brown-haird blue eyed Barbie going to get my loser.
That Blondie has rights to me only.
"Besides Santana," Bree hums, tilting her head to the side at me. "Didn't you get in her pants already? How is she?"
My eyes drop down and I shuffle in my seat uncomfortably.
Marley all about leans forward and her jaw drops. "You had sex with Pierce?"
I glare at her and grit my teeth. "I did not." I shot back.
Quinn laughs beside me and stops eating her sandwich. "What Santana's trying to say is, she lost the bet and didn't get to sleep with her."
By my left, Kitty frowns. "Wait, there was a bet?"
Quinn hums and nods, making the sweat drop down my neck. "Yup, you don't know about it because you're not seniors. It's a tradition of the senior batch to bet the captain of the team—" she says, pointing at me. "—unto doing something crazy and we bet her to get inside Brittany's pants—which she failed to do so."
Marley gasps. "What happened?"
I shrug my shoulders, feeling my lungs about to crash. "She climbed out of the window while I was undressing myself." I mumble out, saying the same old excuse.
Everybody laughs at this. And Kitty couldn't help but say, "Maybe she doesn't find you attractive Satan."
I don't bother replying to her because I know the truth and her words aren't going to sting me.
But what Marley said, did sting me.
"Well then, I'm going to try on Pierce." She says, smirking as she continues to stare at Blondie who's looking at something Mike the—great Chang is drawing on.
And no, that's not going to happen.
Remember: changing title to Bully and Benefits.
And there you have it! No sexy times here because I want to tease you guys ;) But maybe in the next one right? hehe.
Thanks for all your reviews again! They're amazing!
Keep it coming and I'll write :)
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