Title: I'll Never Sleep Again
Author: lps-record
Rating: M (Sex and prescription drug use)
Spoilers: None.
Summary: Ficlet: Kind of a second part to "I'll Never Get Over You" but not really? Brittany POV. Inspired by the Dum Dum Girls "Bedroom Eyes".

A/N: Was going to post this seperately but I didn't :)

Warning: There is mention of Bartie sex, but it's brief.

Glee and it's characters are not mine. All mistakes found in this piece are completely mine.

Please do enjoy.

She absentmindedly stared up at the ceiling of her bedroom, watching the light of the moon cast shadows upon it. She liked to imagine them come to life in a form of an animal or object, her own constellations scrawled haphazardly across the darkness. She mostly blamed the Ambien though. She took them on the nights when thoughts of her became too much and muting them was the only option, specially when he was around. The only thing she hated about them was how long it took for them to hit.

She turned her head and watched her husband's face set deep in slumber. She inched herself away from him. She didn't want to feel the heat of their naked bodies touching. She resented him, and it wasn't his fault, his disability, his incapacitated body. She hated it when he was in the mood to fuck. Throwing her body unto his small manhood, riding him for 5 minutes before he snorted a breath and came inside her. The only way she could come was thinking about her.

Her eyes turned towards her doorway, her mind hazy and in limbo, thinking she had seen the raven girl of her past, the broken woman of the voicemail. She thought she could see those dark brown eyes, those sultry eyes that held so much sensuality they could make her cum in an instant. She missed her, her body, her voice. She missed being fucked and made love to by her. She remembered passionate nights, long nights, of moans, of silky wetness, of smooth, hairless skin. Of soft, feminine, ripples of muscle. She longed for her tan body between her legs thrusting into her with such force, they rocked harshly against whatever surface their hormones had lead them to.

A shiver of pleasure shot from her spine down to her clit as she came to realization that her hand had, by its own accord, settled between her thighs. She let out the subtlest of moans as her middle fingertip grazed over her sensitive bundle of nerves. She circled it in a way that only her and her past lover knew of. She felt herself unconsciously spread her thighs for her invisible lover to settle between. She closed her eyes imagining her clearly, gasping as she remembered that way it used to feel having the Latina's hand caressing her.

She reached behind her to grasp the pillow behind her head, bringing over her face to muffle her screams of pleasure from the man next to her. It was a cheap substitute for the tan shoulder she used to leave her love-bites on.

Her finger circled her entrance, teasing. She hated it when brunette would tease. She would dip inside a centimeter, just enough to drag a pleasurable sigh from her, enough to scratch down her back, just to withdraw them and giggle hotly into her sweaty neck.

"How much do you want me inside of you Brit-Brit?", she would say.

And the blonde would just moan a "Fuck me already, San" into her ear and the Latina would growl in response and thrust inside her with two digits, causing her to arch and hiss her lover's name in pure ecstasy.

She entered herself, imitating that passionate action, groaning her ex-lovers name into the pillow. She rocked her hips against the motion, undulating around her fingers. Her face felt hot and she knew that the Ambien was making her feel everything much more vivildy. She curled her fingers one last time touching that spot, biting a moan into the pillow as her body stilled and then shook in sheer euphoria.

She exhaled, and dropped boneless back into her bed. Her mind was fuzzy and the shapes were starting to disappear. A feeling of gradual desolation settled over her as the visions of her lover vanished. She curled into her pillow yearning for arms to wrap her from behind and comfort her after an intense night. She lived for the moments post sex. Those wore the moments Santana would quietly whisper her love into her ear.

The sunrise was coming. She anticipated it. She wouldn't be trapped between a worlds of reality when the sun was up. She would sleep in hopes Santana would meet her there.