The feisty brunette is backed into yet another corner by a hopeful girl. However, this one isn't so attractive. "So I hear you're looking for a date to the dance? Funny, I am too." The girl tries to wink but instead looks like she's having a seizure.
"Actually, I'm—"
"Taken!" someone interjects.
Santana freezes. She recognizes that voice.
"Get lost, She-Hulk," Puck smirks. The burly girl scowls before staggering off, flipping Puck the bird over her shoulder. "You're welcome," he says, grinning.
Santana sneers before walking past him. "Fuck off, Puck."
"Whoa, no need to hate." He walks swiftly, trying to catch up with her.
"You beat up my girlfriend."
"Okay, I'm sorry about that. I just sort of lost it and saw red."
Suddenly, Santana tosses him a sultry grin. "Well Puck, if you're that sorry..." she purrs seductively, running her hand up his arm.
His eyes widen as he watches her hand. "Yeah?"
She leans forward to whisper in his ear, and his eyes close in anticipation. Suddenly, she smacks the side of his head. "Then you need to apologize to Brittany."
His eyes shoot open when she pushes him away harshly before rushing away from him. "No way in hell!"
Detention sucks. Just Brittany, Puck, some emo kid, and Mrs. Doosenbury...not the best combination.
"Hey Pierce," Puck whispers, trying not to wake the sleeping teacher. Brittany, who is trying to balance a pencil on her nose, lets it fall in order to raise an eyebrow in Puck's direction. "So you're single now, huh?" he asks suggestively.
"Are you hitting on me?"
"Well, you are pretty hot, and I'm pretty sure I'm the only guy on the football team you haven't slept with."
"Yeah, there's a reason for that." Brittany snorts. "By the way, have you had any trouble performing? I hope I did some permanent damage."
"Fortunately for you, everything works perfectly. Feel free to test it out anytime you want," he smirks.
"Fuck off, Puck." She returns her attention to her pencil.
"It's okay to miss her, y'know. I know I do." Brittany goes rigid as she takes in his words. "She actually cares about you too, which is more than I can say for myself." When did Puck become so cynical? Not knowing what to say, the blonde stays silent, refusing to look at the mohawked boy. He isn't looking at her either. Suddenly, he gives a dry, humorless laugh. "It's funny, I actually thought she liked me, and that she was just using you to make me jealous. Guess I was wrong."
"Hmph, you have no idea," she scoffs.
"You think you have it bad? After we broke up, she didn't even acknowledge me."
"Your point?"
Puck scowls at her. "My point is, after you guys broke up, she told me to apologize to you. It's obvious she still cares about you." Brittany's heart races, and she suddenly feels giddy. Santana cares about her? Hold on, though. What the hell does Puck know about Santana's feelings? "Whatever, you don't have to believe me. I don't like you, you don't like me. It's been that way forever."
"Hey, you two! Be quiet!" Mrs. Doosenbury suddenly yells, obviously awake from her nap.
"Sorry, Mrs. Doosenbury!" they chime simultaneously, charming grins in place. The teacher eyes them suspiciously before closing her eyes again.
Deep in thought, Brittany doesn't reply to Puck. Could Santana actually care for her? Sure, with the fake relationship behind them, they have a better understanding of each other, and there is that undeniable chemistry...but could she actually have real feelings?
"So are you going to go to the fundraiser on Saturday?" Puck randomly asks, breaking her out of her thoughts.
"Are you kidding me? Food plus guys and girls in slutty swimsuits? I'm so there." She smiles wickedly. Santana in a tiny bikini? She would never miss that. All the other half-naked people are a plus too, of course.
"You know, I think in another life, we could've been friends," he speculates.
"Not a chance, Puckerman." She grins. He rolls his eyes playfully, and she wonders for a second if he might be right.
"Alright, detention dismissed! I don't want to see any of you back here again!"
Eager to escape, Brittany immediately stands up, grabs her jacket, and rushes to the door.
"See you Saturday, Pierce! I'll save you a hot dog."
Brittany finds herself in a completely empty hallway. Before she can take a step, she is pushed harshly into the lockers, like Santana did before the fight on Friday.
Except the one who shoved her isn't Santana. It's that girl she was on a date with at Breadstix, the one who slapped her because she was allegedly dating Santana. Next thing Brittany knows, their lips are mashed into each other, the girl's tongue sloppily searching for her own. Brittany half-fakes a moan when the girl bites a little too hard on her lip. Usually, she thinks aggressiveness is sexy, but with this girl, it's all wrong.
"Now that you're single, I think we should have a do-over of our date," she purrs, kissing Brittany's neck and probably leaving marks. "And this time, we can skip dinner."
The girl's hands go to her jeans, unbuttoning them with ease and pulling them down to pool around her ankles. Right in the middle of the hallway. Oh shit, what if someone sees them?
Out of the corner of her eye, Brittany spots someone approaching. Hold on, is that...?
Santana.
Her heart beats erratically at the sight of the head cheerleader, way more than it did when that girl was making out with her. Suddenly, the two of them are yanked apart, Santana tugging harshly at the other brunette's arm and shoving her against the lockers—and not in the sexy way. "You touch her again, and I'll destroy you. Got it?"
Brittany's eyes widen, and she suddenly remembers that her pants are on the floor. "Santana, what are you—"
Still holding the other girl down, Santana interrupts the blonde. "I said, got it?!"
"Yes!" the girl whimpers pathetically.
"Good. Now get the fuck out of here." Giving the girl a strong shove, the brunette watches as she turns the corner and vanishes.
"What the hell was that?" Brittany demands.
"Shut the fuck up," Santana sneers...before forcing their lips together.
To say Brittany is shocked is an understatement. However, she doesn't let that stand in the way, especially when she has the hottest girl in school throwing herself at her. Their tongues meet in wet passion, and all Brittany wants to do is devour her whole, and oh God, did Santana just growl? When the smaller girl pulls away, the blonde pouts. She wants those plump, already-swollen lips back on her right now.
"She marked you." Santana glares at the red marks on Brittany's neck.
"I—fuck!" Brittany exclaims as Santana suddenly pulls her shirt down, stretching and ripping it, in order to gain more access to the blonde's milky white skin. The ravenous look in Santana's eyes is driving Brittany wild. The brunette sucks and bites, leaving prominent bruises on her collarbone and on top of her breasts. Brittany whimpers in protest when Santana's mouth leaves her body again, only to start nibbling at her ear.
"You're mine."
Now this aggressiveness, she likes. The next thing she knows, Brittany is being pulled down fast, but her back doesn't hit hard, cold tile like she expected. Instead, she is met with fluffy, soft bedding and satin red sheets.
Santana's bed.
How did I end up here? Brittany wonders briefly, but all coherent thoughts are erased from her mind as soon as she sees what is hovering above her: a pair of very rambunctious breasts, topped with already-hard nipples, and a smirking Santana. Her dark hair falls in waves, tickling Brittany's equally naked chest.
"Oh my god," Brittany breathes. These are the most perfect breasts she has ever seen.
"With that face, anyone would think you've never seen boobs before," Santana says cockily.
Ignoring her comment, Brittany immediately springs into action, flipping their positions so that she's straddling Santana. Taking one more look at the Latina's gorgeous face, she lowers her head to take an already erect nipple into her mouth, sucking greedily. As Brittany moans at the feeling, the vibrations cause the girl beneath her to writhe and make the sexiest noise.
"Fuck, Britt!" she gasps, her hands finding their way to blonde locks and pushing forward as she arches up. She continues to moan as Brittany swirls her tongue around the hard nub and palms her other breast roughly.
Brittany slips a thigh between Santana's legs, reveling in the wetness she finds there and grinding down on the cheerleader's toned thigh. She knows she should be puzzled by how both of their panties suddenly disappear, but all she can focus on is Santana's moans and her own throbbing clit.
"Harder, Brittany. Please. I need you," Santana whimpers as she rocks harder into Brittany, searching for more of that delicious friction.
Aggressive Santana is hot, but needy Santana is even hotter. As they furiously rub against each other, Brittany is already pathetically close to her orgasm, so when Santana pushes her back before roughly inserting two fingers inside her, she screams in pleasure. It doesn't even matter to her that she isn't in control anymore; all that matters is the amazing orgasm she can feel approaching and the beautiful girl that is about to give it to her. "Oh San...I'm so close. More," she moans. Her chest heaves as Santana thrusts harder in and out of her tight hole. A week of not being touched by anyone but herself is making her feral with need. She pulls the brunette's face down to kiss her sloppily, wanting to scream Santana's name into her mouth when she comes. When Santana's other hand starts to rub her aching clit, she whines desperately, the small circles driving her mad with desire for release.
"Come for me, Britt, " Santana whispers into her mouth, biting down softly on her lip and thrusting her fingers deeper and faster.
Fuck, she can feel it. She's so close. The edge is right there, and—
Brittany's eyes shoot open as her climax hits her. Grunting and whimpering, she tries to stifle the moans that are threatening to escape. Her hips buck into nothing as she shudders, waves of pleasure rolling through her. Finally, she comes down, panting and sweating like she just ran a marathon.
What the hell happened? She finished the most awkward detention ever, then went home, fell asleep...and had a dream. A sex dream. She just had a fucking sex dream about Santana. Not wanting to believe that she came from a dream, Brittany has to admit that that was one of the best orgasms she's ever had, and her sex is still throbbing with want. There is no way she can fall back asleep feeling like this, and it's too late to take an extremely cold shower.
Mind made up, Brittany lays back on her sweat-drenched pillow, shamefully thinking about warm brown eyes, full lips, plump breasts, firm buttcheeks, and toned legs as her hand slides down her toned stomach to her soaking core. As she plunges two fingers into herself, biting her lip to keep from moaning, she only knows one thing for sure: she can't deny her attraction to Santana any longer.
Leaning against the lockers, Brittany watches Santana as the girl walks down the hallway. Actually, it's more like she's running—probably away from the group of people that are following her around like lovesick puppies. Damn, she looks hot when she's mad. After last night's dream, the blonde's attraction to the Latina is borderline uncontrollable. It's a wonder that she doesn't just take the girl on the floor right there.
Santana looks absolutely livid as people keep asking her to be their date. Brittany's eyes narrow at the admirers. Don't they know that they don't have a chance in hell with her? They are nothing but a bunch of average, run-of-the-mill losers, while the Latina is at the top of the food chain. She deserves so much better. Suddenly, Santana's scowl transforms into a sexy little smirk as she gets closer to Brittany, who gladly returns the favor, blatantly looking her up and down and biting her bottom lip. Then, Santana winks, and the blonde averts her eyes as her heart stutters.
"Santana, will you—" a hopeful boy with a large amount of pimples starts.
"Fucking no!" Santana yells, completely at the end of her rope. After her little "I'm waiting for the right person" line, everyone seems to think that they have a chance of being that person. "Can you all just leave me the fuck alone? I promise that I will not be going to Homecoming with any of you, and if you come near me again, I will go all Lima Heights on your asses!" she growls at her followers. With fear (and lingering attraction) in their eyes, they finally disperse.
Relieved to have a break from the chaos, Santana rubs her temples and sighs heavily. The day is almost over, and Brittany hasn't even spoken to her. She'd hoped by keeping those people around, she'd make the blonde jealous, but nothing has seemed to work, not even her super hot wink.
"Hey S, what's up?" Quinn asks, seemingly popping up out of nowhere.
Startled, Santana jumps. "Jesus, Q! Don't scare me like that!"
"So has Britt asked you to the dance yet?"
"What? N-no. Why would you think that?"
"Wait, you don't want her to ask you?"
"No!" Santana reacts instinctively. "I mean, I don't know."
"So you do want her to ask you?"
"Well, I guess it would be nice if she did, but I could never actually go with her."
"Why not?" Quinn asks incredulously.
"Because she's a girl. My parents would disown me if I went to a dance with a girl, and also, I don't even know if I'm into girls."
"Okay, first of all, screw your parents. They need to stop dictating your life, and you need to start living it. Secondly, didn't you just tell me yesterday that you have a crush on Brittany?"
"Well yeah, but what if it's just a phase? What if I'm just attracted to her, because she's one of the only people that has ever stood up to me, and I find people with control over me sort of hot?"
Quinn's eyebrows scrunch up in confusion and frustration. "In that case, why don't you have a crush on me?"
"Gross, Q."
"No, I'm serious," she starts, determined to make her friend consider this seriously. "I stand up to you, and in a weird way, I have some power over you, so why don't you like me?"
"That doesn't even make sense, Quinn."
"Yes, it does."
"No, it do—"
"Who has the most influence over the student body?"
"Me, duh."
"And who else?"
"...Brittany?"
"Yes. And who is the person that both of you come crying to when you need advice, guidance, and support?"
Santana's eyes widen in realization. "Shit. Nerd's got a point..."
"That's right. So let me ask you again, why don't you like me?" Hands on her hips, Quinn waits for an answer, but Santana just looks shyly at the ground. The blonde rolls her eyes. "You don't like me, because it doesn't matter if Brittany stands up for you, or if she carries a bigger stick than you do. You like her for her, vagina and all. It's not a phase, so stop being such a goddamn pussy and accept that you want to fuck her brains out!"
Santana has never heard such a colorful array of words come out of Quinn's mouth, and she's so shocked that her jaw is practically on the floor.
Composing herself, Quinn starts to walk away, but not before pushing her friend one last time. "Now, why don't you think long and hard about that when you stare longingly at Brittany in Drama today, okay?"
