Here's the next update! So, I hate complex relationships and I don't want too much drama because that's for later on in the story (oh spoiler) so I hope you enjoy some Brittany fixing in here. The bet is the least of Brittany's problems anyways. Plus I need them to get to know each other before anything else.
Enjoy!
Title: Bully and Benefits [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 Pierce.
"Hey Britt, caramel or white chocolate?"
I'm playing with the tip of my Starbucks drink as Mike leans forward on his chair, holding up a chunk of the two sweet flavors; Rachel observing us from the side with her eyebrows knitted together.
Narrowing my eyes on the two bars of chocolate, I nudge my chin to the caramel flavored one. "Caramel." I mumble, sighing for probably the nth time that day, my friends easily noticing it.
Rachel leans forward and bops my nose, making me scrunch it up on reflex as she giggles at me. "What's gotten into you, Brittany? Are you okay?"
Mike nods, and offers me a sympathetic look. "Yeah—" he drawls, licking his lips. "You've been like this since you called last week."
I sip my drink to distract myself from their questions and sigh. Unfortunately, I didn't tell Mike about what happened between me and Santana; I tried to, but I ended up crying the entire time when I reached his house, and I was thankful enough he didn't push for it, I don't think I could have handle that.
"It's nothing, I'm just tired." I mumble out as a reply, scratching my messy blonde hair as they look to each other then back at me, not believing a single word coming out of my mouth.
Mike sucks in his lips and frowns. "You can tell us anything, you know?" and when he says this, it makes me think that the 'us' he's saying actually means 'me', and he so desperately wants to know what's going on. Why wouldn't he be? He's my best friend.
I nod my head slowly and smile. "Yes I know, but there's really nothing going on with me right now." I lie, shrugging my shoulders up.
They drop the subject and I'm sulking deeper into my seat as I watch them interact with one another. It's a good Rachel was here, because is she wasn't, Mike would be drilling me with questions—so in silence, I am very thankful for her. I'm just not ready to tell Mike about Santana, or my dilemmas. He's just going to do everything in his power to help and sometimes, he overreacts in his own little ways. Plus, he's having problems with Noah so it's best not to add more to his list.
"Glee club."
Blinking, I narrow my eyes on Rachel.
Mike chuckles and shakes his head. "No thanks, Rachel—as good as you guys sound, I'd love to join but—" he sighs, taking a gulp of his drink while chewing on the chocolate bar. Ew. "—I'm already having problems with my Captainship in the team, joining the Glee club will only piss Coach off and then I'm out, how will I protect you and Britt if that happens?" he reasons out, giving a pointed look to her as Rachel whines.
"You're just a really good dancer." She tells him, throwing her hands in the air. "We need good dancers, most of us on the club are just singers that don't dance—plus a wheel-chaired man, that's a disadvantage."
I scrunch my nose up and blow a whistle. "Doesn't that mean it's an advantage? There's a handicap rule, isn't there?"
Rachel laughs and smiles softly at me. "Unfortunately if you're in a singing choir, it's not a handicap."
Nodding our heads, Mike and I simultaneously take a swing of our drinks with Rachel following ahead. We drop our cups at the same time on the table and sigh.
"Can you believe it's almost mid-term of the school year?" Mike bellows, smiling cheekily. "We're going to go to college in a few months."
I groan and shake my head at him. "No, please—I don't even want to think about college yet."
Rachel frowns at me. "Really? Out of everyone—I'd expect you to want to leave the school and get in college already."
Quirking an eyebrow, I grin in a teasing manner. "Oh? Why me?"
She shrugs her shoulders, pointing a finger up. "One, you're our on-the-run Valedictorian, I'd be excited to have that position." She holds a second finger up. "Two, if Mike says you've been bullied for such a long time, I'd want to leave this hell-hole as soon as ASAP." Lastly, she puts a third one up, waggling her fingers. "Three, you'll be away from Santana."
My shoulders deflate as I bite my lower lip, nibbling on it hard as I let the reality of it sink in. I haven't even thought that far yet, graduating and receiving my diploma then running off to New York or something, away from Santana and her attitude. I didn't even realize that in a couple of months, I will never see her again.
Why do I feel down about that? I should be happy. I should be rejoicing, I should be digging it to every other person's faces that I'm going to be amazing in the outside world and they're going to be serving tables 'till 50 years of age.
But no, I feel almost empty knowing I wont see dark mocha eyes and plump red lips in the future.
Chuckling, I clear my throat. "Yeah—I guess if you put it that way."
Rachel and Mike thankfully doesn't ask too much about my unusual reply, noticing the deepness of my voice as I distract myself again by taking another long sip, pouting when I find my hot chocolate finished. Flashing them a quick look, I scoot my chair back and walk to the cashier when I accidentally bump into someone as said person was walking backwards towards the counter.
"Sorry—"
"Move it—"
Eye wide, I stare at the brown eyes of the girl that's got me jumping in joy and sulking in depression at the same time. I clear my throat and take a deep breath in, telling myself to not show emotion and just ignore her.
But the anger flares in me again as Marley's voice swirls around my head about Santana and her bet.
I lost my virginity to a freaking bet.
Gritting my teeth, I whip my head away from her and go close to the cashier, smiling at the boy who's always been there for my order. I hear a shuffling behind me and before I know it, Santana's leaning on the right side of the counter, digging her eyes on me.
"Will you stop?" I hiss, still not turning to her as I clench my fingers tight into a fist.
Santana blows out a breath and I feel her playing with the tips of her fingers, flicking the dust away from her nails. "Stop what?" she replies dumbly, and I feel her smirking smugly at me which is such a piss off.
Rolling my eyes, I accept the change of my drink's payment and walk to the claiming area, frowning when Santana follows by me after throwing her card to the guy whilst muttering the words "something—something latte." I didn't bother hearing anymore.
Tapping my foot impatiently on the tiled floors, I examine the mahogany table with feigned interest as Santana opens her mouth to speak again. "Don't forget, you're still my tutor." She whispers and I can't help but turn to her with furrowed eyebrows.
She gulps and flicks her hair to the opposite side, shrugging her shoulders up. "We have a Zoology test next week and I don't know shit—"
I narrow my eyes on her as she says a bad word and she stops, clamping her mouth shut with an irritated look on her face.
Hopefully, she's irritated at herself and not at me.
"Look, I said what I had to say and now—now I'm asking you to be my tutor because I'm going to lose my Captain position, and I can't have that." she hisses, leaning close to me as I step away a bit and tap my fingers on the table, trying to seem uninterested as Santana frowns.
It's really funny how the captains of our school are trying to get kicked out of their positions. Has it always been like this in McKinley?
I lick my lips and face her, blankly. "Are you being mean again?" I huff, noticing her walls start to build up.
She shakes her head. "No—you know after last time that I can never be mean to you." she mumbles, almost shy at her own words as she slams her head with a closed fist. I try not to smile.
But, I keep my composure and narrow my eyes on her again. I wasn't talking about me, she should know that since yesterday in school I saw her throwing five slushy hits on the wheelchair guy Rachel talked about from glee, making him have a massive explosion. He left blue slushy wheel trails around school after the hit and Santana's lucky the principal thought it was a science project, which—now that I think about it, is stupid.
"Not me, Santana—I know what you've been doing lately."
She scoffs and rolls her eyes. "What? Mack deserved that since she did it to me when I was a kid."
I feel my eyebrows arching up. "And what did you do to Mack?" I didn't hear about any Mack attack from Santana, maybe this happened today but I was too preoccupied to know about it.
She shrugs her shoulders like it wasn't a big deal and smirks. "Bitch run around school in a towel today—not my fault she forgot the rule of No leaving clothes unattended while showering in the lockers." She laughs, body shaking at the memory as I frown at her.
After a while, it dies down and her jaw drops at my disappointed face. "What? I didn't say I'd stop being mean to others. I have rage, and I need to let it out." She points out, crossing her arms together.
I sigh, and take my drink, about to walk away and just go when Santana's voice stops me again.
"Brittany, in all things, I do need help in that test." She whispers, and I can hear the plead in her voice and I know I shouldn't just let her be in her studies, so I spin around and suck in my lips for some confidence.
"Okay." I say, clucking my tongue. "But it's strictly professional, I come over to your—"
"—I was thinking yours—" she cuts in, eyes wide as I arch an eyebrow, slowly nodding.
"Mine then," I hum, tapping my foot. "And we just study, no talking about whatever your explanations are or whatever, just studying."
She squares her shoulders and smirks. "Totes." Before walking away and out of the shop as I sigh and feel myself floating away into an endless sky because yeah—that's honestly where I want to be right now, in the sky, with no problems in the world.
Looking at the door she just went through, I nibble on my lower lip and walk back to our table, smiling at my friends as they play around with their whip cream.
God, I wish my life were that simple and fun.
The room to my door opens as I unplug my earphones and lean back, smiling sweetly at my mother as she brings in a couple of oreos, milk and cereal.
"Hey sweet cheeks." She husks, winking at me while kicking the door close with her boot, placing the tray of goodness on my side desk as I spin on my seat and stand up.
Leaning in for a quick peck on her cheek as a greeting, I snatch an oreo and nibble on it while watching my mom grab a piece of her own. "Santana's coming over." I mumble through chewing teeth.
Her eyebrows quirk up and she smirks smugly at me as I roll my eyes. "Oh?" she chuckles, rubbing her cheek. "The smoking hot Latin'a?" she asks for confirmation as I try to hide my blush away from her which fails due to my pale skin.
"In about 10 minutes or so, she'll be knocking." I ignore her last statement, whisking through my room to dump trash away because even if we're in weird terms, I still don't like it when guests see my room all dirty and messed up.
My mom giggles and leans to hold on to the doorknob, shrugging her shoulders up. "Well, I think she's early today." She hums, making me twist my neck to her to ask what she meant when all of a sudden she opens the door revealing Santana, wearing casual clothes, hair neatly combed down with curls in the end.
It never blows me away how beautiful Santana is.
"I'll leave you two be darling's." she teases, pulling Santana further inside the room as she skips out and waves a final time before disappearing into the halls of our home.
There's a bit of an awkward silence as I nibble on my lower lip and gesture for her to close the door which—after a minute or two, she does so—the only noise in the room being the closing sound.
Tapping my foot, I smile weakly at her. "Hi Santana." I greet her, not wanting to make this awkward since I'm actually going to tutor her in a few minutes.
She clucks her tongue and returns the smile, a bit terrified though. "Hey, uhm—sorry I'm early, I came by Anna's and decided 10 minutes was too long to wait." She rants, shrugging her duffel bag off as she bends down to bring out the books needed for the test, cradling it on her arms.
Laughing, I try to keep my face stoic because yeah, we're still in weird terms but damn it, Santana's too adorable when she's shy. She should be a mean person again so I don't have to keep on laughing and be cold to her instead.
"It's okay—" I drawl, licking my lips as I walk closer to her, brushing my hair behind my ear as I read the titles on the cover of her books, realizing they looked familiar. "—Better early than on time right?" I joke, trying to bring some good vibes into this because I don't like teaching people when I'm sad or mad.
Santana half-grins and pokes out her tongue to wet her dry lips. "It's actually better late than never, Brittany." She corrects me, leaning on her right leg.
It amuses me ever since she started calling me by my name, sometimes I'd think it wasn't actually real but most times, I get happier with her noticing me in a different way instead of as her prey.
"I know." I reply, tugging my lips up into a smile. "Is it alright with you if we study on the floor? I don't have any extra chairs." I motioned to my working desk where only one chair was tucked in, it wasn't like I was going to offer it to her and teach her by standing up—that'd make me tired. Plus, it was more fine getting cozy on the cold tiles of my room.
She nods her head. "Whatever suits you." her eyes go to the walls of my room, examining each spot like she's trying to memorize them as I go to crouch down when suddenly, I look out to my glass windows that lead to my balcony and smirk. "Is that you and your mom?" she asks me, pointing to a picture where I was riding my mom's favorite horse.
Giggling, I nod. "Yeah—first time riding Betsy." I tell her, recalling that day oh so clearly in my head.
"Betsy?" she repeats, confused.
I nudge my chin back to the picture. "That's the horse's name—I know, not so original, but if you get to know my mom, she's the most unoriginal person out there." I laugh, getting lost in my thoughts to even notice Santana staring at me. "—Like, she named me Brittany, totally not original."
Santana smirks and licks her lips. "I don't know, Brittany's kind of like the perfect name for you, it's unique to me—so uh, yeah—shit." She slaps her forehead and groans, peeking at me through the gaps of her fingers. "I'm becoming a sap, what have you done to me?" she gasps, shaking her head to herself.
I couldn't keep it in as I throw my head back and let out a bellowed laugh, clutching on to my stomach as Santana joins in. "Stop doing that." I scold her, after we calmed down.
Her eyebrows bunch up together and she tilts her head to the side. "Stop what?" she asks, confusion written all over her face.
I sigh and eye her with sadness. "Stop making me not mad at you." I huff, crossing my arms together as I avoid her gaze, tapping on my foot impatiently as I nudge my chin to the door window of my room. "Let's go study in the balcony instead—I need, some air."
Walking to the side-desk, I grab the tray of goodness and stomp to the outside, using my elbow to open it as I feel Santana following behind me. Slowly, I place the tray down on the floor and walk back in to grab a big blanket. I set it nicely on the ground and watch as Santana kicks her sneakers off and crouch down to lay on her abdomen, pulling out some of the books.
I quirk my eyebrow at her. "I'm waiting for the assault." I tease, settling in front of her by leaning back on the railings.
Santana peeks up through her book and I sense her frowning at me. "What assault?" she asks, flipping to the next page like she was actually reading.
I shrug my shoulders and grin. "We're out in the open, aren't you scared someone might see us?" I joke, running my hand through my blonde locks as I ignore the panging feeling in my chest at how true it actually is.
Santana shuffles to sit Indian style as she reaches out her hand to grip my wrist and tug me forward. Hesitantly, I follow her and look up through my eyelashes at dark mocha orbs that are just so beautiful.
Taking a deep breath, she exhales after. "Look, I get it. I'm a bitch, but Brittany, please know that I mean well when I'm outside of McKinley." She tells me, eyes pleading for me to believe her as I gulp hard on my throat.
"Sorry, force of habit." I mumble, talking about how I think of everything in a bad way with Santana, how I know that she's about to build all her walls up again and hurt me.
She smiles softly at me and lets go of my wrist, going back to her first position as she grabs her book. "I don't blame you, I end up ruining everything all the time." She sighs, playing with the end corner of the cover page.
Shaking my thoughts away, I grab another book and tell her to put the one she's holding down, saying we should start with the family groups of the birds first because that's probably what Mrs. Jones will put most on the test. Like I said, I wasn't lying when I say I know her type of quizzes, I'm pretty sure 90% out of those questions are about birds and their types and families and movements. Then the last 10% would be about the natural habitats of a few other animals, which I can name the cheetah, the lion and the zebra.
Damn, I'm such a nerd.
"So we start with birds." I tell her slowly, flipping the book to face her as I point at the humming bird. "We're going to memorize each family the bird belongs to, and their offsprings." I set it down and watch as she rests her head on top of her palms, intently staring at the book as she reads the information. "Read what it says here and I'll just get you some water." I mumble, noticing one glass on the tray as I stand up and walk out, stumbling a bit on the stairs since I'm such a klutz before I'm gliding through the open door of my kitchen.
And of fucking course, my mom had to be inside, reading the newspaper—well, more like playing scrabble. She tips her glasses above her forehead like it was shades and smirks at me. "What? Done already?" she teases, waggling her eyebrows as I blush and roll my eyes on her.
"We're studying, Mom." I grunt, hiding my flushed face as I open the fridge and bend down to find the bottled waters we store inside.
My mom chuckles and slides by the fridge, tapping the metal handle. "Oh? Is that what ye'r children call it these days?" she coos, pumping her chest out. "Studying" she snarls, air quoting the words as I lean back and frown at her.
"No, we're actually studying Mom." I whimper, slapping my forehead as she continues to laugh at me. "And why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be at work with Dad?" I sigh, giving up on her, as she never stops teasing me.
She frowns at me and sticks her tongue out, playfully signaling that she's disgusted by my dad, which is far from true. "I need to get away from your old man." She chides, puffing out her cheeks. "We haven't even had sex late—"
Throwing my hands up in the air, I grab the bottled water and run to the stairs whilst yelling out, "Didn't need to hear that!" as I skip back into my room and go to the balcony, shocked to find Santana snoring on top of the open book I gave her.
We just started—barely even 4 minutes, and she's asleep already? Boy, I have a lot of tutoring to do.
I slump down on the blanket-floor and smile offhandedly, reaching behind me to grab my phone as I open it and go to my photo album. I stop to a familiar picture and nearly giggle out loud when I come across the picture I took of her when she fell asleep inside my car that fateful day. She was so pissed, she snapped at me and said all these confusing words so now I'm starting to wonder what she'd do now if I did the same thing.
Eyebrows arching in curiosity, I shuffle closer to her drooling face and snicker softly, bringing my phone up to get a good angle as I turn on the flash switch. Sticking my tongue out in concentration, I click the snap button and watch as it flashed a bright light and took a picture of the adorable brunette.
Santana's nose scrunches up and she blinks a couple of times before her eyes widens considerably large. She shoots up as I scoot my body away from her and hide my phone, Santana's hand not so discreetly wiping the drool out of her face as she narrows her eyes on me.
"Did you just take a picture of me?" she asks, lips forming into a scowl as I was about to tell myself that see, she hasn't changed at all before I see her smirking at me. "Because you better make sure that's a sexy one—" she jokes, winking at me before re-opening the book to the page I left her on, frowning when she sees her drool stain. "Oh gross."
My eyes soften and my expressions falter as I observe her every move, sighing out a defeated exhale as I tilt my head to the side and offer her a bottle. "Drink?" I ask, smiling weakly at my bully.
Santana grins and nods her head, taking it with her long fingers as they accidentally touch mine and send jolts all over my body. "Thanks, I'm thirsty as fuck."
Quirking my eyebrows at her, I cross my arms together. "And why would you be thirsty? We didn't even finish 10 minutes of class."
She avoids my stare and looks out the balcony's railings, absentmindedly playing with the tips of her hair as she shrugs her shoulders. "I came from practice."
"Practice?"
Humming, she turns to me with a tired gaze. "Yeah, weekend training with the Cheerios is hell, we started since 7am." She whines, rubbing her forehead as my eyes bulge out of its sockets whilst grabbing my phone to check what time it is now.
My jaw drops at the realization that it's about 4pm. "Santana—you trained for like 9 hours straight—" my words get cut off by the sound of her body falling down on the pile of books again, mouth agape with light snores coming out of her thin lips.
Why did she even want to have tutor with me if it's clearly obvious that's she tired? Her arms are flailed around everywhere, nearly taking the whole space of the blanket as she grunts in her sleep.
So that's why she brought a duffel bag, but I also told her we could also do tomorrow so why didn't she just go home? Then I realized she was so persistent in our text messages to see me today.
Smiling, I shake my head at her and go back inside my room to grab another sheet of blanket and two pillows, balancing them with one arm as I drape her body with a comfy one, separating her books away as I cradle her head up and slide the soft pillow under her, watching as she balls up as soon as her head hits the soft cushion.
I place the books back inside her duffel bag and return to leaning against the railings of my balcony, opening the page to my favorite book as I snatch another piece of oreo from my mother's tray. I'm about to get up and grab a different book instead when I hear Santana shuffling.
I was going to tease her on being so light-weight when my eyes stop to stare at Santana's body crawling to me, my cheeks flushing red as she drops her head to my lap, pushing my legs to a flat position and then covering herself with the blanket, using the pillow as a cuddle buddy as she tangles it with her legs.
My jaw drops, and I feel my throat thickening. "Sa-Santana—"
She shakes her head, peeking at me with a frown on her face. "Move, and I'll yell." She threatens me with a not-so scary consequence, snuggling up further as my right hand drops to her mass of hair around my thighs, softly playing with her smooth dark hair.
Shouldn't I be mad at her? Dammit, Brittany.
"Chocolate."
I remove my book from my lap and stare quizzically at the still sleeping Santana. It's already 8pm and she's been sleeping for hours.
Waiting, I continue to play with her dark locks, getting accustomed to its softness.
"Chocolate cake."
I try to stifle my laughter as I continue to watch her, amused. "Chocolate cake?" I couldn't help but repeat her words, wondering how far this can go.
Santana groans and shakes her head which she shouldn't do since I'm wearing very thin shorts and now is not the greatest time to get a hard on. Blushing because I already am starting to have one, I curse at myself for getting so turned on whenever Santana is here and bite my lip, thinking of anything disgusting enough to seize my arousal. It'd also be awkward for Santana to wake up with a boner as a pillow.
"Chocolate cake and—" she snorts, causing me to laugh whilst I cover my mouth, not expecting that outburst. "—and crayons." She whispers, sucking her lips in as I shake my head in disbelief.
"Okay." I hum, nodding my head as she starts to say other weird things in deep sleep. "That's great, Santana." I laugh, scrunching my nose up when I feel a vibration coming from my phone. This seems to wake Santana up.
"Oh god." She groans, rubbing her tired eyes. "What time is it?" she asks, looking out at the cold night as I try not to smile at her adorable bed hair.
"8pm." I reply smoothly, switching my phone off as I sent a reply to Mike who's asking if I'm free tomorrow.
Santana groans some more and flops down on my lap, body tensing before she's pushing herself up by her elbows, staring at me with shock in her face.
Pouting, I tilt my head to the side. "What?" I mutter, nibbling on my lower lip as she grins.
She points down to my crotch and winks playfully. "Hard already?" she teases; bunching her shoulders up as I thank the heavens it's nighttime and she can't see me blushing.
I swat her hand away from where it lays above my torso and stick my tongue out to her. "I can't control my arousal, Santana." I huff, crossing my arms together. "Can you scoot? I'm still mad at you—"
"—But I'm hot." She cuts in, waggling her eyebrows as I narrow my eyes on her.
"Excuse me?" I reply, confused.
She rolls her eyes like I should get what she's trying to say. "Remember last time you were pissed at me? You said I was hot but still mad at me." She explains with a few hand gestures. "I should thank my parents for making me gorgeous since it seems to steam out the anger from you." she snickers, bopping my nose as I glare at her.
"No, even if you're hot, I can still be mad at you." I point out, crossing my legs together as Santana gives me this look that says Oh yeah?
She looks past me and plays with her fingers, subtly ducking her chin down as she blows out a cold air. "I know I promised not to talk about it, but I really want to." She whines, peeking at me through her long lashes.
I stare at her and shake my head, chewing on my lower lip as I feel the signs of it getting choppy—I've been biting it a couple of times today. "Sorry Santana, I've set boundaries, and I hope you can respect that." I whisper out, sucking in a breath I didn't know I was losing. "It just really hurts."
She rubs at her eye lids, fighting off the sleep she still needs and tilts her chin up strongly. "I know, I'm not asking for your forgiveness—" she scoots closer to me, leaning by the railings. "—yet." She adds, making me half-smile.
And I guess I shouldn't overreact on this, she did say the reason why she didn't tell Quinn and the others about the bet is because she wanted to protect me, but it was more than that. It's the fact that she agreed to this bet that got my head in a tornado.
"Fine, say what you have to say." I respond, flattening my palms on my exposed thighs as I feel her eyes piercing through my skull. But I can't, I can't look at her, it'd be too much, I might actually forgive her already.
She reaches out for my hand and slips her slender fingers in between the gaps, intertwining them and making our fingers clasp within each other as I marvel at our contrasting colors. But the other thing is—is that her hand is tensing, like it's scared and terrified to hold me and with that knowledge, I try to let go of her—but no, she keeps a firm hold, battling with her insecurities.
"When I agreed to the bet, I knew it was wrong." She started off, crossing her own legs together as she swings our hands back and forth. "I felt this guilt thing go all over my body—that same guilt that goes through me whenever I hurt you." she confesses, flicking her hair to the side as I subtly glance at her dark orbs.
She lets out a forced laugh. "Which—before, I thought that guilty feeling was me feeling dislike towards you."
Scrunching my eyebrows, I turn to her, confused. "What? You disliked me?"
She nods her head, almost embarrassed. "Yeah—up until you got mad at me for finding out about the bet, I never knew what being guilty felt like—I always ignored it, so every time I threw a slushy at you, I thought the cold sinking feeling I get on my tummy was just my dislike towards you."
"That's hard to understand, Santana." I point out, stopping our hands from swinging as I rub my thumb over her smooth skin. "Really hard to understand." I correct her, nudging her elbow.
Santana chuckles, biting her lower lip. "Yeah, I know—but that's what I felt, and it's weird but when Quinn planned the bet I agreed to it because I thought I'd have a closure on my hatred towards you. Like it'd stop everything and I could move on from it all."
"Closure huh?" I scoff, rolling my eyes.
"It's not nice, knowing what I did but believe me when I say that I regret it so so much." She gasps, puffing out her cheeks. "Okay—let me give you an example," she starts, tapping her chin with a free hand as I wait. "Remember the first time we met? In the playground at Kindergarten?"
My eyes narrow on her and I pout. "Yes, awful move Santana." I scold her lightly, recalling her hard push on me like it was yesterday. "Were you always that rude?"
She rolls her eyes on me and pokes my ribs. "No, that's the thing—that was the very first time I became so mean." She huffs, clucking her tongue as she too recalls the memory so clearly. "I pushed you because I was so mad." She confesses, avoiding my face from its reaction.
But I have no reaction. "Why would you be mad at me if that was the first time we met?"
Santana slams her free hand on her thigh and exhales, body shaking. "I was mad because I thought, "what the hell? How can there be a prettier girl than me? I am the prettiest one in the world."" She mimics her younger voice, waddling her head side to side as my jaw drops on the floor.
After all these years of torment,
The only reply that could come out of my mouth was, "You said what the hell at the age of 4?" I joke, watching as she gasps and slaps my shoulder.
"Anna was a teenager taking care of me okay? I knew a lot more curse words than the rebel down the street."
Smiling, I shake my head at her. "So that was it? You were pissed at me for being prettier than you?" I laugh, still not believing it. Santana was freaking jealous of me in Kinder for topping her in the beauty list, what a child.
Still a child.
"Funny right? That's what I mean—I felt so much dislike for you for being the newest pretty girl that I took it in my care to make sure your life was a living hell."
I lick my lips, sighing. "Remind me to tell every mom with a kinder kid not to make their kid a pretty girl—you know, to avoid the future bullying." I tease as Santana groans, knowing how unbelievable it sounds out of my lips.
"Well, now you know." She ends up replying, bowing her head down. "It's a stupid reason but I was a kid, a kid who wanted it all before and now." She husks and I miss the way she side-eyes me at saying the word "now".
There's a calming silence surrounding us as she starts to swing our hands again, making me half-smile at the actions as I feel her chest taking a deep breath in.
"The bet was the biggest mistake of my life." She goes on, scooting closer to me. "I know that now and—and I'm sorry for making you think you lost your virginity to a stupid bet, Brittany." She rubs her forehead, clearly frustrated at herself. "But believe me when I say that as soon as I kissed you, the bet was the last thing I could think of."
And I do believe her, I'm not supposed to forgive her, I'm not supposed to even believe her so easily but by looking into her eyes, and seeing her vulnerable side, I know that's Santana's way of telling me that she's truly sorry and regretful.
"I'm still mad at you." I end up saying, smiling sadly at her. "You have to work your butt off, Lopez."
She nods her head furiously, licking her lips. "I'll do anything—to be friends with you again." She gulps, eyes twitching.
"Well—" I drawl out, licking the roof of my mouth as I bump our shoulders together. "I'm not the prettiest in the school now so—think you could not push me away this time?" I ask, grinning from ear to ear at the double meaning.
Santana sighs and looks at me deeply with a serious expression on her face. "That's going to be a problem then."
I frown, nearly letting go of her hands at the hurt panging in my chest at Santana's rejection of deciding to push me away again but I'm stuck holding her still when she tightens her grip and tugs me to face her, her dark eyes alluring me.
"Why?" I find myself asking, counting the silver linings in her mocha orbs.
Santana smirks, nearly giggling. "Because I still think you're the prettiest in the school." She exhales, making my whole body jolt at the reply, lips quivering with the need to kiss her.
And honestly? Who wouldn't melt and just give in to that answer?
"—Even prettier than me, now I admit to defeat." She adds, chuckling as I slap her shoulder and roll my eyes.
"You just ruined the moment." I scold her, clucking my tongue as she glances at me through her lashes, smirking.
"Ah—" she hums, nodding her head. "That's me alright, I always ruin the moment." She admits sadly, the swinging of our hands stopping as she uses her fingers to play with my own.
I bump her shoulder and duck down to stare at her deeply. "That is you." I agree, nodding my head as I watch her face sunk down. "—but, you always seem to make up for it in a better way so, you're a lucky one."
She smiles and laughs. "Thanks Brittany, you're a really good friend." She husks, moving to rest her head on top of my right shoulder as she comes closer to me. "You're different and I just want to thank you for changing me." She sighs, kicking my foot gently as I kick it back.
But before I could reply with a witty comment, images of Quinn and the other Cheerios laughing in my face, teasing at me for sleeping with Santana, and Santana, looking at me like I'm a trophy after winning a bet kept surrounding my head as I abruptly let go of her hand and stand up, watching as a million things went through her face as I walk back and forth in the balcony, rubbing my forehead.
"Brittany what's wrong—"
"This isn't right." I sigh, throwing my hands up in the air as she follows to stand in front of me, brown eyes twinkling in the night sky. She reaches out but I shake my head. "Santana, I'm not supposed to forgive you." I hiss, snapping my mouth shut as she steps a foot forward.
"I know, you're not forgiv—"
"Then why does it feel like I am? I told you we'd be studying but look—" I hiss, pointing at the spot we were half-cuddling just a minute ago. "—we talked! You—you explained yourself when clearly I asked you not to." I whimpered, feeling rushed things all over my body. I'm so confused I don't know what to do anymore.
Santana sighs and fights the hesitation, walking up to me and calming me down by grabbing my arms. "Shh," she hushes me, rubbing my skin. "It's okay Brittany—"
Shaking my head, I step away from her, lips quivering because I know I'm about to cry. "I think you should go,"
Eyes wide and pleading, Santana's stays put. "No, what you're doing isn't wrong Brittany."
"Santana, I can't always let you go that easily." I huff, heavily disappointed at myself for always letting things slide—I mean, I didn't make it easy for her the past two weeks and she did explain herself a while ago—and turned all sweet and mushy.
Fuck, I'm not going to stop myself, am I?
"But I'm not going, we don't need to go that far Brittany, I just want to be your friend—and I'm freaking out because I can't be not with you."
I glance at her face and watch as she breaks, showing her more vulnerable side to me as I find myself stepping forward and engulfing her in a tight hug, letting her bury her nose to the crook of my neck as I feel her tears start to dampen my big t-shirt.
"I'm sorry." She chokes, gripping tightly to my top, nearly ripping it into two. "I'm so sorry Brittany—I'll—fuck, I'm sorry."
So I told myself not to think so much, our relationship—friendship, whatever it is, doesn't have to be complicated; it doesn't have to always be about never turning the other cheek. I always hated complex things, so I slowly lead our connected bodies lower to the floor until our knees touch the soft cloth and I'm bringing us down, hugging Santana as she brings her leg over mine's and sobs some more.
Combing through dark locks of hair, I feel her slowly stop shaking and breaking, her muttered words coming to a halt as I sense her exhaustion from the whole day bursting through her body. Santana's tired, she's been doing so many things today and she's out of energy. I know so because as soon as I slowly let go of her body, she grips me tighter and drifts off to sleep a second after loosening her grip.
Rubbing her back up and down, I place a light kiss on her forehead and smile at the scent of her gorgeous hair.
I don't need to complicate things; we don't need to think so much about it. I just need to start clean with her, we're starting over. As friends—It's going to be hard to forget but I know Santana's trying her best so as of now, I'll keep my distance and get to know her other self, her true self so that in the near future, we can be more than friends. Which I've been wanting since forever.
Waking up to a bad case of the stiff neck is not something good to feel on a Sunday morning—but, waking up to a crossed legged Santana with my mom's guitar around her neck is something good to admire on a Sunday morning.
"You finally woke up." She teases, smirking that smirk as I push myself up by my hands, rubbing the drowsiness away from my lids as I gave the girl a half-smile, narrowing my eyes on the guitar.
"How'd you get that?" I ask, tilting my head to the side as I feel the blanket we used falling down my chest.
Santana taps her fingers on the instrument and shrugs her shoulders up. "It was by your door so I thought it was okay to borrow—?" she hums, asking for my permission silently as I roll my eyes and nod.
"It's my mother's." I tell her as she continues to fix the tunings. "I guess she left it in my room the other day."
Grinning, Santana winks at me. "Good thing she did because I get to do this now."
Furrowing my eyebrows, I bunch the blanket up to my chest and lean back on the railings, trying to ignore the heat of the sun as I shield my face with one hand. "Do what?"
She smirks and strums down a few cords, creating this melodic tune as I sigh at the feeling. Santana giggles at me and strums again, humming a tune as I throw my head back gently and look up at the sky.
"Well, sometimes I go out by myself—"
Body waking up, I feel my cheeks blushing and my heart racing at the smooth velvet voice of Santana, it was so soft—so alluring and I can't help but stare at her deeply as she sings a once upbeat and fast song and turn it into something like a country tune—like it was made for it. Amazing.
"And I look across the water, oh—
And I think of all the things, what you're doing,
And in my head I paint a picture,"
Her face scrunches up when she hits the note of the last word, swinging her arm up to point at the sky for a moment before going back down to strum again. It was so soothing to hear her voice, almost like I'm floating on the clouds and she's the angel with a harp.
"Since I've come on home,
Well my body's been a mess—"
She wiggles her chest, causing spurs of laughter to come out of my mouth as I clap my hands, impressed. Santana grins.
"And I've missed your blonde hair,
And the way you like to sweater—"
Okay, I know the lyrics of that song, and it does not have the words blonde and sweater in it, and I most definitely noticed the way she stopped to say sweater in a non-singing voice, almost like she's teasing me as I roll my eyes at her creativity, nudging my chin for her to go on because I'm interested.
Laughing, Santana taps on the wooden portion of the guitar.
"Wont you come on over
Stop making a sap out of me,
Why don't you come on over—Brit—Valerie."
There's a smirk on her face as she winks at me playfully, knowing full well what she's doing as she belts out the next lines, "Valerie" about three times with a soft tune, singing the chorus with a rasp in her voice.
With a lick of her lips, Santana stops her strumming and decides to pluck on the strings for some added effect to her next made-up lines.
"Did you have to go to me,
Made me feel like a lovely dame, did you get a good lawyer—"
Scrunching up my nose, I stifle a giggle—Did she just say I made her feel like a lady?
"I hope you didn't catch a tan,
I hope you find the right woman, who'll be there for ya'"
Side-eyeing me, I see her gulping down hard.
"Are you shopping anywhere,
Changed the color of your hair, are you busy?
And did you have to pay that fine
That you were dodging all the time, are you still mad at me?"
She jokes, clucking her tongue as I feel my shoulders shaking in mild amusement. She's about to continue but I stop her, crawling forward to touch her hand and stop it from using the guitar as Santana smiles at me through her long black lashes that I may be jealous of.
"I get it." I tease, grinning from ear to ear. "You like the way I wear sweaters."
Santana smirks and nods her head furiously. "Totally, you're the only person I know that probably has billions of sweaters inside her closet."
Slapping her shoulder, I fake a gasp. "Whatever, that means I'm one of a kind." I huff, crossing my arms together as Santana places the guitar a foot away from us before snuggling close to me, burying her face close to my exposed neck.
"Yeah you are." She agrees, nodding.
Before we could brisk further into each other's arms, the balcony's window bursts open with my mom in only a sports bra and tight cycling shorts, I feel Santana's heart beating fast and I frown, trying to get a good look at her because is it just me or does Santana have a mini-crush on my mom?
"Howdy teenagers making kinky sex on the balcony." She greets us, unplugging her earphones as she smirks that half-smirk of hers where only one side goes up.
Blushing, I slap my forehead with my free hand that's not around Santana's waist. "Mom—" I hiss, sending daggers to her thick skull. "We are not having sex."
Santana sits up and shakes her head profusely. "I would neve—"
She scoffs, and waves a hand at us. "Oh please, of course the both of you got ditty on the dirty" she hums, winking at us. "—I know when my Britt-Britt is a virgin or not anymore, god knows what she moans at in the middle of the night, 'Santana oh—'"
Throwing my hands in the air, I throw a pillow at my mom, hitting her straight in the face as I feel Santana's eyes staring at me as I blush a deeper shade of red. "Mom, why are you here?" I ask, closing my eyes for a second when Santana giggles and leans in close to whisper the words,
"You had a sex dream of me?"
Licking her lips, my mom brings her feet up to show her marvelous high-heeled cowboy boots. "I'm off for a joggin'" she chides, puffing out her chest as I turn to see Santana staring at them. Seriously?
"You're jogging with your boots on?" I ask, disbelieving. "I know you're true to your kind being a cowgirl and all, but—you don't jog in boots Mom." She was so unbelievable.
She shrugs her shoulders and crosses her arms together. "Doesn't matter—with me joggin' around, men and women wont be seeing my boots, they'd be watching these titties bouncing." She gestures to her breasts and I roll my eyes. Of course, that's her plan. "It's all about the boobs Brittany, not the boots."
Santana nods her head. "I agree with you wholly Mrs. Pierce." She drools, mouth agape while staring at my mom's chest as I slap her arm and glare hard.
"Okay, now don't have too much fun under the covers, you dirty snixes—" she coos, waving at both of us as I sit up some more and crack my neck to the side.
"Why would you jog now though?" I ask, still wondering why she'd do something so unusual, in other times—my mom would just use the treadmill inside the master's bedroom. She's too lazy to head out and possibly get hit by a car since she's so clumsy.
Smirking, my mom points to my door. "So when I come home all sweaty, ye'r dad's finally going to have sex with me." She jokes as I feel my face paling at the image of both of them, throwing the last pillow to her direction as I miss and she's off laughing out in the hallways.
"You're mom should be the queen of America." Santana blurts out, eyes twinkling with awe.
I shake my head. "Oh god no."
But before I could say anything else, Santana's eyes darken and she turns to me with the biggest grin on her face, licking her lips seductively. "You had a sex dream about me." She husks, tan fingers going down to play with the edge of my shorts as I gulp heavily, pushing my arousal down.
"S-Santana, don't—"
She leans in super close and nibbles on my earlobe, making my cock twitch inside with want and need. "Care to tell me what happened in that dream?" she whispers lowly, licking the spot where she bit.
I shake my head and whimpered, clenching my fists tightly as she goes to my neck and uses her teeth to gnaw at my pulse point, sending shock waves all over my body. "Fuck."
"Is that it? We just fucked?" she teased, inching closer to the buttons of my shorts. I try thinking of certain gross things to quell my arousal but Santana's hands are very distracting, especially with them poking on my clothed tip. "I want to know what kind of fucking we did."
Cursing, I grab her hands and look at her in the eyes. "Santana, friends." I remind her, arching my eyebrow up as I watch her lustful orbs turn a shade lighter.
She gasps and groans, shaking her head to herself in disappoint. "Damn, sorry Brittany, I'm like a sex-freak, I don't know when to stop." She confesses, nibbling on her lower lip as I smile at her because yeah, I totally know that. "And don't think I want to go back to being fuck buddies, I respect you more than that—and I'd like to say we're friends."
We grin at each other and she holds up her pinky to eye level. "I swear to not treat you badly anymore—" she whispers, wiggling her pinky left and right.
I cluck my tongue and suck in my lips for what I'm about to reply. "Even inside of school?" I ask shyly, shoulders deflating when I see her eyes cast down on me.
Glancing up, she frowns. "I'm sorry Brittany—I can't—"
I nod my head and silence her by intertwining our pinkies together. "I get it," I rub my free hand on her own with soft caress. "Just—no more bets."
Santana nods her head like it's not attached to her neck and it nearly makes me bawl out in laughter. "Yes, of course—I promise, I meant everything I said to you, Brittany. I want to do this right now."
"And I believe you Santana."
She grins and bops my nose, staring down at my lips as I lose my self-control and almost close the gap when a piece of something hits me straight in the back of my head. Groaning, I rub the sore spot and look out the railings, frowning when I see my mom below holding a couple of nuts in hand.
"And you said you weren't sexing it up." She screams from below, catching the attention of our neighbor as she trips on her own two feet while walking her dog around. I gasp and narrow my eyes on my mom as she flicks the poor lady off. "See ya, Britt-Britt" she blows a kiss and turns to start her jog and as I turn back to Santana, jaw-dropping.
"So hot." She mumbles absentmindedly, staring at my mom as she goes farther and farther away.
Crossing my arms together, I grab her pinky and link it with mine again but only tighter this time, which gets her attention. "Swear to me you wont ogle my mom too." I huff, arching a daring eyebrow at her.
Her face playfully pales and she lets out a whimper, "But that's hard, she's like—"
"No, don't even finish that."
Laughing, Santana tilts our foreheads together and nods. "Fine, no ogling at your smoking hot mother."
I lick my lips and scoot back, giving us a friendly space while chuckling. "Awesome."
Out of the corner of my house, I don't see Mike walking up to our porch with wide eyes, staring at me and Santana's connected foreheads and intertwined fingers.
Yay some fluff and fixing, that's great! And I watch the first episode of season 5 again and I'm inspired by a certain couple in that ep for the upcoming chapters. Guess who.
What you all think Marley's going to do is a twisted version, not the she'll tell everyone and embarrass Brittany, nope. But it's a huge factor that she knows.
Also, I'm actually laughing pretty hard on the Brittany and Blaine promo scene. It's so hilarious, I made fun up of it instead of hating because it's just too funny.
Tell me how you feel!
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