Thank you to all the lovely people who are reading, following, have reviewed, and favorited this vaginally frustrating collection of one shots. You are awesome times twelve. I'm sure you know that but I thought I would reiterate your awesomeness. :D Self-esteem is important you know and in this next one shot, Santana has PLENTY of it! Happy reading! :)
Chapter 2: But Not Enough
"Ma'am, do you have insurance?"
"Fuck NO!"
"Could you refrain from using such language in this office please?"
"Could you not ask me if I have insurance every fucking time I come in this pile of shit place? HMM? The answer two weeks ago when I was having my blood test done was NO! And the answer now is NO! I do NOT have insurance nor will I be getting insurance; even though I could afford it, just to SPITE you. You little fatassed know it all BITCH!"
You should have seen this chicks face. It was like I had taken an elephant sized dump in the middle of the office.
Complete and utter shock.
-Two minutes later-
While that annoying lady was sobbing on her coworkers shoulder, I took a seat in the waiting area. Here is my opinion on waiting: NO. Me and waiting just don't GO together. We're like oil and water or ice cream and mustard. Waiting causes me to get antsy. This antsyness manifests itself eventually into ... Let's just say I've been known to have a slight temper problem...
"WHERE ARE THE FUCKING MAGAZINES AROUND THIS SHITHOLE?!" The woman across from me glared the most annoyed glare I had ever seen. "What? Why are you staring? Oh yes right, you're visualizing me naked. Well then, proceed. May I suggest starting with the breast area and then going down? I've heard the trip is a rather scenic one." She gave me a look that said 'You are the most disgusting pervert I have ever met and I hope you get felt up by rabid monkeys and then vomited on by a giraffe.'
Yes, her look said every one of those things. Her expressions expressed themselves very well. With that being said, my middle finger also magically decided to express itself. I'd always tried to give my body parts the freedom to do as they pleased; which would explain my often hard nipples. Anyway... One of the stupidass ladies that worked there got me a magazine. Which magazine you ask?
"Better Homes and Gardens? Who the FUCK reads this shit? Do I look like Martha Stewart?"
"No, you've probably been to jail more times. But, I mean jails a vacation for you right? Getting violated by all those very very VERY desperate women." The expressive look woman remarked.
"You should learn how to sit and look pretty. Talking is a cockblock for you."
"Cockblock? I thought you were gay?"
"Oh I am, but I take it that you're not."
"Why do you say that?"
"We would be fucking by now if you were." And there was that look again.
"You have to be the least polite person I have ever met. EVER."
"Listen...what's your name?"
"Quinn."
"Bitch," Her nostrils flared. "When you look like I do you don't HAVE to be nice. Being nice is for fatasses. If you're ugly then you have to make up for it. Considering my physical situation, I don't need to pretend like I give a fuck. I don't CARE and at least I am HONEST about it. You on the other hand are just a frigid bitch and I'm sure that's working out just wonderfully for you and the unfortunate sexually frustrated soul you're dating. And you may say to yourself, 'How does she know I'm not single?' I know because every single thing about you screams that you are the type of girl that can't be single for more than five minutes even though you only put out aka lay there a maximum of three times a year and it's so intensely vanilla that your partner has to think about somebody more interesting while they are attempting to bang your dead fish like body. And that somebody that they are thinking about is somebody like me." I then turned the page of Better Homes and Gardens as if I were actually reading it.
"My sex life is NONE of your business!"
"You're right, but even if it was, you would have nothing to share. Why? Because you are a stuck up bitch."
"Says the HUGE BITCH!"
"Well DUH. You must be a rocket scientist. My bitchiness comes from my extreme honesty. When I see someone who has the brain power of a wet fart I tend to inform them about it. Why? Because I like to. It causes me oodles of joy. Putting people down is my right and if I wish to exercise it then so be it."
"No matter what the consequences."
"When you look like this..." I pointed to my face. "There are no consequences."
"Santana Hudson?" I stood up. "Hello, my name is Tina."
"Why do you people tell us patients your names? Do you think we retain this useless information?"
She gave me one of those tight 'I really want to tell this slut off but if I do I might get fired' smiles. It was the desired effect. She pretended I didn't say anything and led me to my doctor's office. "She will be with you in a minute. Please take off your clothes and put this robe on over your undergarments."
"This is just an excuse for you guys to see me naked." That was honestly supposed to be amusing. But instead of finding amusement in my rather clever and delightful comment, she just glared.
"I won't be seeing anything. Just the doctor. Please change." With that she left the room. I concluded that she was lonely and needed some help in the 'sexual tension relief' department. Hopefully, some poor soul with incredibly low standards will donate their time to help her.
I quickly changed into the required white robe and made my best attempts to hop on the fucking sitting dealybobber. The issue is that I am SHORT. I'm not fucking LeBron James, I can't jump a mile! Whoever designed those things is an assholes times thirty-five! A few knocks were heard. "Come in." I responded. I heard the door open and then quickly click again. I didn't turn around; I was too focused on conquering the bench thingy.
"Please sit on the bench." No, I had NEVER thought OF THAT! Who would ever think that they were supposed to sit on the examination bench? What a concept!
"Why do you think I'm out of breath?! I've been trying to get on this thing for the last five minutes! The bastard that designed this contraption was NOT thinking of short people when he did it."
"Who said it was a man?" I heard papers shuffling. "It could have easily been an inconsiderate woman."
"No women are too thoughtful AND typically shorter, it was a dude." I tried to hop on it again but the only thing I managed to accomplish was stubbing my toe. How? Don't ask me, the whole thing happened extremely fast. I saw my whole life flash before my eyes as I plummeted to the ground. "FUCK!"
"Are you okay?"
"You're right! A woman designed this piece of shit! YOU!" I pointed at her accusingly. "This was your plan! You want to fuck me up so bad that I end up having a concussion so you can jack up my bill!" She stood over me and looked down at me in a warm yet professional manner.
"You know, that's a very good idea. For that, I'll help you up." She extended her hand and I grabbed it. Of course I looked for the obvious thing. I mentally cursed. "Why did you just curse? Did you actually hurt something?"
Okay, maybe not so mentally.
"No, I'm fine."
Really, I was looking to see if she was married and I noticed that she didn't have a ring...Now you are wondering why I cursed huh? Well, I just felt like it. I'm sure you get the need to spontaneously yell 'Fuck' or 'I'm on the pussy patrol!' too. Don't judge me you bastard. No, don't think of not listening to my ramblings now that I've just insulted you. This story gets JUICIER! You'd be a moron not to continue! I mean sure, you're a bastard but not a moron, right?
"Okay, let's help you up on the bench." She ever so smartassishly pulled out a step on the bench. I glared at her while she clearly struggled to not smirk at me.
"Know it all." And the smirk finally broke through.
"Please get on the bench so we can begin..." She scanned through my records while I used the step to magically arrive on top of the bench. Once this happened I finally took a minute to actually take a good look at this doctor. It turns out that unlike the majority of the people I had seen that day, she was worth the energy it took to look. I didn't get that immediate sick feeling upon viewing her face. I really didn't want to be at the doctor feeling nauseous BECAUSE of the doctor. That would perturb me greatly.
"Okay Ms. Hudson..."
"Call me Santana."
"All right, I'm Dr. Pierce, nice to meet you." We shook hands, which lead me to conclude that she had soft skin. This was yet another thing to add to my 'Reasons why Dr. Pierce is not repulsive list.'
1) She didn't cause me to become instantly violently ill upon viewing her face.
2) She had soft skin
3) Her stethoscope was going down her shirt.
"We will start out with...what? Is something wrong?"
After making the visual trip from her face down to the area in which the stethoscope had invaded, I had determined the next thing on my list.
4) She was filled with femaleness, otherwise known as female endowment, AKA BOOBS. I've been known to prefer humans with boobs versus ones without. I feel that explains my marriage to Finn.
"Nothing's wrong. Everything's perfect." I grinned far too brightly.
"Good..." Dr. Pierce looked me up and down suspiciously. She knew something was up and if I was a boy, she most definitely would have been right. "This is just a standard checkup, Santana. You had a blood test last week and everything checked out okay but I just want to see how your overall general health is. Let's see, your last visit with Dr. Tanaka was... SEVEN YEARS AGO!" She gave me a look as if to say 'You shouldn't wait that long to go to the doctor.' I waited that long because I wanted to AVOID TANAKA! The reason you ask? That creepy slimeball had significantly too much hand hair. It was exceedingly distracting. What? I don't care what anyone says, that is a COMPLETELY plausible reason NOT to go to the doctor and I'm sticking with it! Anyway, Dr. FELINE as I had decided to mentally call her since her scrubs had cats on them, had gone through that weird popsicle stick thing, and that looking in your ears thing, and that looking up your nose thing. I was really getting impatient because I wanted her to check out the GOOD areas.
"Okay, I'm going to ask you some personal health questions. I know they are annoying and some are kind of weird and invasive but they are important, okay?" She really could ask me whatever she wanted. Things like 'Would you like to go out with me tonight?' and 'Would you like to skip the bullshit dinner that nobody gives a fuck about and just jump to the good part?' would be preferable questions; but she could ask me whatever tickled her fancy. Fancy tickling sounds lovely, doesn't it?
"All right."
"Okay, do you have any issues sleeping?"
"Nope." She checked off a box on her sheet.
"Do you have shortness of breath when you exercise?" She probably doesn't count applying mascara as exercise ...but considering the fullness of my lashes...she should.
"No, I don't. But I don't exercise often, I naturally just stay like this." I pointed to myself noting my thinness.
"Even so, you really should. Three or four times a week for a half an hour can do wonders for your long term health." I hadn't heard a word of this. Or any of the next questions until...
"Are you sexually active?"
"Depends, will you be in my bed tonight?"
You're jealous of that line, admit it. That line is a guaranteed pussy revealer.
She gave me an unreadable look before she busted out laughing.
"That was a good one!" She pointed at me with her pen. I smiled as if I wasn't being serious. She will learn before long that I am in fact very serious...At least that is the plan.
"AHH this might go with that question. Are you married? It's been so long since you've been to the doctor it says N/A on the sheet." She gave me another judgmental 'Seriously, stop by the office more often' look.
"Yeah, I have a husband." She checked off another box.
"Do you two have a satisfactory sex life?"
"Why do you need to know that?"
"Well, it is a bellwether symptom for many ailments. A lack of satisfactory sex can be caused by clinical depression, sleep deprivation, blood pressure issues, and a few other things..." Like being gay? Cause I know that's what was fucking up mine and my husband's sex life. I got married at eighteen and thought that I really knew what I wanted. But after a few LONG HARD minutes of marriage, I realized that while I DID want to be married, I just didn't want to be to HIM. So, to fix the problem, I cheated on him with my maid of honor. Trust me; the events of that evening were NOT very honorable. But I am strangely proud that it took me less than a day to cheat. It must be some sort of record. However, to my credit, Finn and I were still married five years later. If you don't take any other advice from me take this. The real key to any working marriage is to have sex with lots of people other than your spouse. I can't emphasize that enough.
"Well, we don't have sex very often and when we do it's not that great...but that doesn't really bother me."
"So the lack of intercourse doesn't bring on any sort of depression? Anxiety?"
"No no, not at all."
"Well okay, it is totally normal for some women to have low sex drives..." Did she just question my sex drive? Did that seriously just happen? REALLY? IS SHE SHITTING ME?!
"My sex drive is beyond normal. In fact, I created having a sex drive!" She gave me a quizzical look and perked an eyebrow before laughing again.
"Ah sarcasm! You're very funny Santana."
"I'm NOT BEING SARCASTIC! My sex drive is GREAT!"
"These are just routine questions, no need to get offended." She smirked while seemingly enjoying my irritation.
"Well, I AM offended! I have plenty of SEX!" There went the eyebrow again.
"Are you having sex with men besides your husband? Are you practicing safe sex?" Oh sweet LORD!
"NO!"
"No to which question?"
"I am NOT having sex with other men!" Dr. FELINE gave me a strange facial expression before everything clicked in her brain, which resulted in her mouthing 'OH'.
"Does your husband know about these women? Is there more than one?"
"Why is this important?"
"Well Santana, this is now not just about your sexual health but about your husbands. If you are having sex with multiple different women that your husband has no knowledge of and then you have sex with him...How little it may be... If you have not properly protected yourself you could be passing the possible ramifications of this on to him."
"He knows. He sleeps with other women too. We have an open marriage. We both take the proper precautions." Soo... I may have just lied a tad because we don't actually have an open marriage; at least HE doesn't think so. I have different opinions... Mainly that we do.
"And this arrangement has worked for how long?"
"Five years."
"No sexual health issues?"
"Nope."
"Okay, that answers a few of my other questions."
"Like if I will sleep with you?" She smirked.
"That was funnier when I thought you were attracted to men."
"I am attracted to men." Okay, I lied again. Why am I suddenly lying so much? "But I'm also attracted to women."
"I see." She continued writing on my records sheet.
"I wear a size 8 shoe in case you need that info too."
"Thank you, it's good to know that your feet are proportionate to the rest of your body."
"Yes, I'm quite anatomically correct."
"And I'll check yes on the 'high self-esteem' option..." I couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic, truthful, or flirting. She had this steely professional lady look about her (minus the cat scrubs). I personally found it hot.
"That would be wise. Would you check the same box for yourself?" She gave me an odd expression.
"This really is about you Mrs..."
"It's Santana and it's a simple question. You know that me and my husband barely have sex. Why can't I be allowed to know a small tidbit about you?"
"Fine, I wear a size 8 1/2 shoe."
"You're cute, you know that? Sitting there all self assured in your doctor's gear with a stethoscope going down your shirt..." She immediately looked down and turned a little red. She then went to remove it but stopped when she noticed I was watching. "You know it would be easier to remove if you just unbuttoned your shirt." She turned an even redder shade and I smirked mischievously at her in return.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you." It wasn't a question.
"Yes, highly." We locked eyes for a moment. She then gave me this look that said 'Are you REALLY going to stare at me while I remove this thing?' The look I responded with said 'Most definitely, and I plan on doing so in the most blatant manner possible.' She rolled her eyes and stuck her hand in her shirt; slowly pulling out the stethoscope. Something about the pace she did it at told me she was doing it sensuously on purpose to see what my reaction would be. Never had I known that removing a stethoscope from one's cleavage could be so alluring.
"Happy?" She proudly showed me the end of the heart hearing medical device.
"You could make me happier by checking my heartbeat." Dr. FELINE shyly smiled. I could tell that she didn't want to, but nevertheless was enjoying this. She was having a harder and harder time pretending that she didn't.
"I don't think so Santana."
"So that thing is worthy of your breasts but not of my heart? What if I sweetened the deal and said you could do the same to my breasts?"
"I'm your doctor, I don't even notice that you have breasts."
"So you don't want to check them for lumps? That's just irresponsible!" She grinned and bit her bottom lip.
"You're the biggest flirt I've ever met."
"I'm the best too." She shook her head in disbelief. "Oh come on, admit it."
"Yeah, probably."
"I'm the best at other things as well."
She rolled her pretty eyes and scoffed.
"Now you're just being foul. I'm your doctor and this is a purely professional relationship we have, understand?"
"Yes, and I'm strictly business. So let's get down to it." I patted the space beside me on the examination bench.
"Please stop."
"You like it. You like that I'm coming on to you." My brain went RIGHT in the toilet upon saying that last sentence. What? Oh your brain went in the toilet TOO. And if it didn't well...It has now! You're very VERY welcome.
"None of that even matters. No trust can be broken between us. I am only here to make sure that you are in great physical condition."
"What better way to test that out than by giving my body a test drive?" I am GOING to wear this woman DOWN. She will be mine and there WILL be hot lab coat containing sex. I will make SURE of it!
"Santana..."
"Dr. Feline. Come on, you must be in heat." She tried soooo hard not to smile... but it was a true failure. She enjoyed my horny cheesiness no matter how much she didn't want to. Some things can't be helped.
"That's Dr. Pierce to you." She spoke with fake authority.
"Baby, I'll call you whatever you want at the peak of orgasm...That is if you can get me there." She folded her arms.
"Is that some sort of challenge?"
"No, not really..." I stared at my fingernails as if this topic was failing to hold my attention. "But I mean it wouldn't matter if it was, would it? You would miserably fail anyway." I shrugged nonchalantly.
"I absolutely would not. I am MORE than qualified to achieve that goal."
"Just because you got A's in anatomy back in med school doesn't mean that you know what to do with it."
"Now you're just being a bitch!"
"A bitch you're intrigued by."
"I am a professional!"
"A professional sex avoider."
"That is NOT true!"
"See what it feels like to have your sex drive questioned?" I gave her a wise all knowing 'You should feel bad about yourself ' expression.
"Come here."
"Baby, I'd could come right where I am if you were closer."
"I thought you said I wasn't capable?"
"I say a lot of things; most of them filthy."
"I've noticed. Now, come HERE."
"No." I folded my arms. Now it seems that I had slightly turned her on. How did I know this? She was just a BIT eager...really though. Not that much.
She ripped off my white robe (and I mean ACTUALLY RIPPED) and showed complete uncaring for my bra as it was quickly thrown into the abyss of the room. It was never to be seen again. She pulled me down from the examination bench and planted one on me roughly. Our hands went everywhere. Generally good places.
Her attire magically found itself all off except for the white coat and stethoscope. I didn't even wait for her to help me out with the rest of my situation. I took everything else I had on off in the least graceful most sex wanting way ever in recorded history. I think she would have made fun of me had the result of my hasteful clothing removal not been hot nakedness...It was slightly distracting for her and led to lascivious groping of my body on her part. Anyway, after essential removal of clothing and horny groping, Brittany lifted me back on the examination table and decided to um... examine me? All I can say is that she was like a hot corrupt OBGYN...and I liked it.
However, I made sure to refrain from expressing high levels of like in an inappropriate volume considering the unprofessionalism of the act we were currently partaking in...
"WOOO YEAH CHECK OUT THAT PUSSY BABY!" For some reason that Beyonce song 'Check on it' popped into my head during that moment...Let's just say my thoughts were a little jumbled. I can't control where my brain goes okay? Don't judge me.
In response to my...delightful comment, she gave me a deadly serious look that stated 'If you want this to continue, you're going to have to shut the fuck up from this point further.' Considering the fire that was going on down south...I nodded in agreement. The last thing I wanted was to end this and then not ever see her again. And I didn't feel that way just because she was HIGHLY fuckable. I felt that way because well...I kinda liked her. She was just as likable as fuckable. And I found out quickly just how fuckable she was...The knuckle deep fingering helped.
"Oh God, I'm gonna come!" She exclaimed. So much for keeping hush hush about our horny examination table sex...But let's not pretend either of us really cared anymore. I had forgot about absolutely everything in the world except for her hot naked on the edge of having the orgasm of the millennium self.
"OH FUCK! SHIT! OH FUCK IT'S SO GOOD!" Add about ten more expletives to that. Her orgasm ripped through her body causing perhaps the sexiest sex flush I had ever seen...and I'd seen a lot of them.
She was definitely not one of those people that was really into laying there and catching her breath. She immediately shoved me off her and repositioned me (seriously, I didn't help at all) on her face. She had to have a rather high lung capacity for what she accomplished...I figured at the time that she ran a lot which would have also explained the hot sexy toned tight body...Oh God, I'm drooling, sorry. Well, I wasn't drooling then, but a hell of a lot of me was pretty damn wet. Her presence, touches, and just overall amazingness caused a lot of excessive sweating. Something about her hot mouth sucking on my...it was almost too much. I'm just gonna be real with you, okay? I was a tad overwhelmed...and I'm NEVER OVERWHELMED.
And I take it back...
She was right and I was WRONG.
SHE KNEW THE FEMALE ANATOMY.
She teased the hell out of me downstairs to the point that I had to beg her to just get to the motherfucking God damn point and once she got to the point she sure as hell made her point.
Not only did she know that female anatomy...She must have invented it. Whatever the case, she invented this activity, that's for sure. After I came down for the orgasm that just wouldn't quit...A lot more teasing happened. When I tried to make my case that I needed a second in between rounds, she just gave me this look that screamed 'Well, that ain't gonna happen'. Somehow, she understood my body better than I did because she knew that I had another one (or twelve) in me...But I guess if anyone was gonna know, it was gonna be her. I mean, she did examine the area pretty thoroughly.
From this point further there was a lot of hot naked sweaty primal grinding, and then rhythmic scissoring, and then even MORE hot naked sweaty primal grinding...Okay, maybe it was scissoring and then grinding and then... You know what? I don't actually recall, I was too busy orgasming and having my eyes roll back to really register what the fuck was going on. Honestly, she could have told me afterwords that we went to Jupiter and I would have believed her. The woman had powers. Speaking of powerful things...
She recklessly pushed me down on the table and began her second round of oral examinations...I mean she had to make sure the area was healthy, and what better way than to double check? One can never be too sure. When I started arching and screaming out incoherent things I think it was pretty obvious that that area as well as her tongue were pretty damn healthy.
It was about this time that we inconveniently heard some knocking on the door but when you've got knockers right in front of you...The sound version just fails to peak your attention. However, this knocking was then followed by voices...Which still failed to stop what was going on between the hot doctor lady and me.
That proved to be a rather unfortunate.
"DR. PIERCE?!" Tina screeched in surprise.
"BRITTANY?!" The woman, who looked vaguely familiar standing beside Tina yelled in a mixture of shock and furiousness.
"Hey, it's BITCH!" The lady, I now remembered to be the bitchy woman named Quinn from the lobby gave me a death glare. She was so mad that she turned bright red. Like fire extinguisher red. She looked like a tomato with hair...In a dress a five year old girl would wear to church.
Brittany decided that this moment was the opportune time to use the greatest excuse known to man and womankind.
"Quinn and Tina," Dr. Pierce began. "This is NOT what it looks like." How I LOVE that excuse! The reason I heart it so much is because if you ever find yourself using it it is 99.999999% of the time EXACTLY what it looks like. And this was DEFINITELY what it looked like...In fact, it was even MORE than what it looked like.
"I can't BELIEVE you're having SEX with a patient! AND Of all patients you pick HER?!" Tina almost seemed more pissed off than Quinn aka BITCH.
"Dr. Pierce," I decided right then was the best possible time to start speaking again. "Why is bitch here?"
"MY NAME IS NOT BITCH! AND I AM HER FUCKING GIRLFRIEND YOU STUPID FLOOZIE!" I may be a floozie and I may not be the sharpest knife in the shed but...wait...What was my point again?
"Wow...You have REALLY bad taste in women, Pierce." I remarked. "REALLY bad taste."
"You could say THAT again." Tina agreed while looking at me in pure disgust.
"We will be TALKING Brittany and I better see you at home RIGHT after work! If you are NOT I will FIND you! Don't even THINK OF FUCKING WITH ME!" Well, clearly she wasn't. That's why her and I were having sex, not her and Quinn. After BITCH's statement, Brittany got this look on her face that said 'Oh goody, talking which will lead to nagging, then screaming, with some yelling, and then more screaming, and then finally crying with a touch of wheezing...That sounds FUN and orgasmless.'
"Jesus Christ you're a BITCH, BITCH."
"MY NAME IS NOT FUCKING BITCH! YOU'RE THE GOD DAMN HOME WREAKING BITCH HERE!" I shrugged in all my naked entangled in the sexy doctor glory.
"We've gone OVER this! I KNOW!"
After Quinn and Tina stomped out and some male nurse named 'Stoner Brett' just stood there and pointed and laughed at us for about ten minutes...We were finally left alone. It was quiet for quite some time until,
"My girlfriends gonna kill me tonight."
"Well, I'm sure as hell not going to tell her."
"That WAS my girlfriend Santana! Weren't you LISTENING?"
"Oh yes, right. Well I kinda tuned her out. I'm sure you do that the majority of the time right? Her voice is like a perpetual recording of nails on a chalkboard that has been played on full blast through a bullhorn."
"Just shut up about my girlfriend!" She untangled her legs from mine. I was rather displeased with that action.
"Oh PLEASE! Like you really want her! You had sex with ME! You think I'm HOT! You can't possibly think that of HER."
"You can't tell me how to FEEL! Besides...You just have a lot of…You contain a lot of... Fuckability..." I think she expected me to get mad but my only response was,
"I can't deny that." She rolled her eyes.
"Your husband doesn't REALLY know you do this, does he?
"Nope, when I'm gone he thinks I'm out bowling." She busted out in ruckus laughter. "Hey! I might have bowling talent!"
"Nope, you're just in the gutter all the time."
"So I'm smut, but you like it and don't try to deny it."
"Who says I would?" There was a moment of silence. "Is that seriously the best excuse you could come up with? BOWLING?"
"Of course not, I just didn't need to come up with a better one. Now, with you, I had to put in effort to get you to disrobe...and it was worth it. Putting in any effort with my husband is pretty pointless."
"Putting in effort with my girlfriend is also kind of pointless. However, I would have come up with a much better excuse than that."
"Nobody questioned her smarts; she's just frigid and bitchy."
"You're a bitch too."
"For the last time! I KNOW! But I'm not frigid. I'd say that makes me a step up for you. Admit it, I am."
"I will NOT admit that. Like I said, you're just fuckable."
"One, there should not be a JUST behind any word describing my fuckability. It is astounding how fuckable I am; it's nothing to poo poo at. And secondly, I am more than just unbearably sexy. I make a wonderful spouse." Because she was either insane or insensitive, or both...she snorted.
"A wonderful spouse? You cheat on your husband regularly! I wouldn't call that a wonderful spouse."
"You cheated on your girlfriend!"
"First of all, I did NOT claim to be a wonderful spouse. And secondly, I've only cheated ONE time in a two year relationship. It's not like I'm a repeat offender. AND we're not MARRIED nor am I lying to her about my sexuality."
"Oh get off your high horse woman! You're a slimeball just like me! Why can't you see that we should be slimy TOGETHER?!"
"I don't think that has EVER been phrased more terribly in the history of phrasing things. And I wouldn't even consider myself to be good with words but even I could do better than that. One time I asked Quinn's mom if I could have desert because I love moist cake." Don't let her distract you by being cute Santana. Don't Let her!
"Why are you being so difficult?"
"Santana," She sighed. "I have another appointment soon. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
"You can't be serious?!"
"What? Did you think we were going to be together forever?"
"Kinda...Well, at least until the sex slows down."
"Out!"
"Fine fine," I got up and dusted my naked self off. We both redressed in awkward silence. "Will you just admit one thing?" I stared at her questioningly in all seriousness.
"What would you like me to admit?"
"Admit you like me." And she was kind enough to give me the real answer.
"I do, but I love her." I nodded.
"But,"
"But?"
"But not enough, Brittany." I wrote my number down and put it in her open palm. She glanced down at her hand for a few seconds before she closed her fingers around the paper and then whispered,
"But not enough."
*Drives Pussy Patrol Truck* I'm giving out...tickets. LOL I hope you enjoyed this outrageously long insanely cursy chapter. I had a blast writing it. I happen to have a thing for reviews in the same way Santana has a thing for hot doctors in cat print scrubs. I think they're delicious :D
12-1-12 Authors note: In case anyone was wondering (I got a few questions about this), Santana in this chapter was based on 'Duets' Santana. Shes an absurdly exaggerated HBO version (meaning lots of cursing) of herself. The characterization is based on two of her quotes: "I wants to get my mack on" + "I don't mean to be a bitch. well, yeah, actually I do." Brittany is exaggerated 'Born this Way aka shirt locker' Brittany. Basically, a bit more stern and well spoken than she typically is. I thought these two versions would be funny together so that's why I wrote it. Thank you for reading, new update soon. :)