The Beautiful Game (Smutty Outtake)
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Brittany/Santana
Rating: NC-17
Words: ~1.5k
Note: This is pretty much straight up smut, so reading the first part is probably unnecessary. Back story: it’s a college soccer AU, where Quinn breaks her arm and Brittany is Santana’s team’s new goal keeper. After their first meeting and practice, Brittany and Santana have sex. This is that sex.
They dropped down together on Santana’s bed, a tangle of lips and limbs and wet heat. Santana tugged Brittany’s shirt off, humming approval into a kiss that made her whole body warm. Brittany’s fingers hooked into the waistband of her shorts, and Santana slid her palms up her ribs to unhook her bra.
Brittany's giggle was a pant of hot breath into her mouth. “You work fast.”
Santana made a noncommittal sound, groaning mentally. Of course she would want to talk during; she was friends with Berry. Oh, god, Berry. Telling her how literally she'd taken the 'please be nice to Brittany' comment was going to make her week. Santana let out a surprised yelp as Brittany toppled her onto her back, but there were fingers dancing over her skin and a knee parting her legs, and she couldn't think to protest.
"Come on, keep up," Brittany told her, and her eyes were sparkling with pure entertainment. "I'm at least five steps ahead of you right now." Santana would have protested that, because, hello, she was still in her bra and Brittany was wonderfully topless. Except Brittany still had her shorts on, and the delicious pressure of her knee against slick heat told her that somehow Brittany had managed to pull ahead when she wasn’t paying attention. Santana tried to scowl at her, because damn it, she hated losing, but Brittany grinned and rolled her hips, and Santana’s head tipped backwards, her eyes widening. Brittany laughed, and this time Santana did manage the scowl.
“What’re you laughing at?”
“Your face is funny.”
Okay, that was just too far. Santana used a considerable amount of effort to flip them over, glaring down at Brittany’s pink smile. “My face is not funny.”
“Okay,” Brittany said complacently, but it was the surprised delight in her eyes that mollified her. “Is it okay if I say your face is pretty, or are you gonna roll us off the bed? Because I’d really rather stay on the bed. Carpet burn, y’know,” Brittany added, as Santana gave that some serious contemplation.
“I guess that’d be okay,” she said finally, unable to stop herself from smiling through her faked reluctance.
“Your face is really pretty,” Brittany told her, her smile softening.
“Thanks,” Santana said, her face warming as Brittany put two fingers to the corner of her mouth. The motion felt too serious for what this was, and when Brittany lifted herself up to press a kiss to her lips, Santana purposefully tightened her hands in her hair, deepening the kiss until Brittany’s lips were making soft smiling noises of appreciation instead of words.
“It’s just that I wasn’t expecting to like you,” Brittany said. Holy shit. How was she still talking when Santana had her pants down around her ankles? This was getting ridiculous. Santana resolutely ignored her, focussing instead on running a hand up in between her thighs. “Uhm… Rach was talking like you were Godzilla or something, but you’re totally not scary at all.” Santana paused, her lips hovering over damp skin.
“Okay, can you not talk about Rachel Berry when I’m about to go down on you? Least sexy thing ever.”
Brittany giggled. “Sorry, sorry, keep going.” Santana sighed, and Brittany shivered at the warm air. “Rach is pretty hot though.”
“Oh my god,” Santana groaned, her forehead hitting Brittany’s hip bone. Brittany giggled again. “This is all kinds of wrong. You need to quit talking if I’ve got any hope of getting off.”
“Hmm?” Brittany asked, twisting so that the hand that had been creeping down Santana's side for the last few minutes could fill her so suddenly that she lost the thread of conversation. She jerked into Brittany’s hand, a low moan shocked from her lungs. “What was that sorry?” Brittany asked again, pulling out for just long enough for Santana to lick her lips and open her mouth before she thrust back inside, adding another finger. She flipped them back over, her hand angling in a way that made Santana scrabble for words, for a place to put her hands, for air. Her thumb started a quick insistent circling around her clit, and Santana's hips jolted towards her, keening as her orgasm took her by complete surprise. “Brittany wins,” Brittany said happily, licking her fingers clean.
“That is so... what. You can’t just--” Santana stared at her with wide eyes. That had taken so little time that it was actually embarrassing. Jesus Christ her whole body was shaking, this was ridiculous.
“Sorry,” Brittany said, dipping her head. Her lips brushed up against Santana’s, and her kiss was slow and concerned. “I thought you liked fast. We can go slower, if you want.”
“No,” Santana said, hearing the roughness in her own voice, surprised at just how much she needed to see Brittany’s face tense with pleasure. She kissed her again, fierce and possessing, guiding her back down against the pillows. As soon as she left her lips to skate her fingers down her body though --
“So what high school did you go to?”
“Oh my god, are you kidding me right now?”
“Well, I don’t know what high school you went to. Don’t you think that’s weird?”
“Not really at all,” Santana muttered, deciding that she was actually going to ignore her this time.
“I mean, I like to talk when I’m bored.”
“You’re-” Santana spluttered, looking up to find Brittany giggling at her. Santana held her gaze for a moment, then smirked. Alright. “I went to the same high school as Quinn,” she said, her fingers playing with the top of Brittany’s curls. This time, she was watching Brittany’s face, and she noticed the way all of Brittany’s attention was on the progress of her hand.
“You - oh - I thought you didn’t like talking about Rachel and Quinn?” Santana’s fingers brushed over smooth skin, watching as Brittany’s eyes fluttered closed.
“Just Rachel. Quinn’s hot.”
“She totally is. Th…that’s how I met.” The rest of Brittany’s words got caught in her throat. Santana hummed against her thigh, scraping her teeth over a freckle and flicking her tongue out.
“How you met?” Santana prodded, smirking. Maybe Brittany was on to something; this talking thing wasn't the worst idea in the world.
“How Rach and I met Q,” Brittany managed, and Santana looked up from what she was doing with her fingers to find herself caught in Brittany’s smile, and the flush of her chest, and the intensity in her eyes. “I was like, hitting on her, and Rach came over and she was s’posed to be helping, only then Q liked her more.” She looked so upset over it that Santana had to laugh.
“That’s insulting.”
“It totally was, don’t stop, please,” Brittany sighed, her flush spreading as Santana curled her fingers and gently circled Brittany’s clit with her thumb. Brittany looked ridiculously pretty right now; her pale pink nipples were pebbled, and the light from her window painted her in a soft glow that made her look almost unreal. Santana’s movements slowed, wanting to make this last, because Brittany was captivating like this, with her blue eyes darkened and half-lidded as she watched her. She was the prettiest thing Santana had ever seen, and weirdly enough, she actually seemed to like her. There wasn’t any reason for her to; Santana was pretty sure she hadn’t done anything to encourage that sort of thing. Most of the time she was pretty sure even her best friend didn’t like her, so to have that just handed over was unexpected, but not completely unwelcome.
Brittany’s thighs tightened. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” Brittany said, and Santana smiled against her hip.
“I won’t,” she said softly, leaning to lick a path up her quivering thigh. Brittany whimpered, clasping her hands behind her head in a seemingly relaxed manner, as if the rest of her body wasn’t drawn taut.
Santana’s fingers curled and twisted, and when her tongue flicked out just above them, the groan that was torn from Brittany’s mouth made Santana shiver bodily. The pace of her fingers built steadily, until Brittany’s skin reddened and dampened, and the only sounds in the room were the slick push and pull of Santana’s fingers and Brittany’s breathy panting. When she came, it was with a whimper swallowed in the back of her throat and her hands shooting out to clutch at the pillows. Santana's movements slowed, her heart thudding uncomfortably fast against her ribs, kissing Brittany's thigh and feeling her twitch in response. Brittany giggled, her face flushed and her smile huge, and although she wasn't sure what was funny, Santana couldn't help but laugh with her.
It was only when Santana was looking at the satisfied, sleepy smile on Brittany’s lips as she curled up around her that she realised that she was cuddling. After sex. In her own bed. It was a bizarre feeling, because this was something she’d always vehemently tried to avoid. She’d never thought that she was the kind of person to enjoy this, and she’d always been fine with that. She’d never felt this weird hope before, like this might develop into something that would mean that she could have this for longer than a night. She gave a small hum of contentment as Brittany’s fingers sifted through her hair, closing her eyes and deciding that maybe the whole Quinn breaking her arm thing wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened, letting the warmth from Brittany’s body seep underneath her skin.
Pairing: Brittany/Santana
Rating: NC-17
Words: ~1.5k
Note: This is pretty much straight up smut, so reading the first part is probably unnecessary. Back story: it’s a college soccer AU, where Quinn breaks her arm and Brittany is Santana’s team’s new goal keeper. After their first meeting and practice, Brittany and Santana have sex. This is that sex.
They dropped down together on Santana’s bed, a tangle of lips and limbs and wet heat. Santana tugged Brittany’s shirt off, humming approval into a kiss that made her whole body warm. Brittany’s fingers hooked into the waistband of her shorts, and Santana slid her palms up her ribs to unhook her bra.
Brittany's giggle was a pant of hot breath into her mouth. “You work fast.”
Santana made a noncommittal sound, groaning mentally. Of course she would want to talk during; she was friends with Berry. Oh, god, Berry. Telling her how literally she'd taken the 'please be nice to Brittany' comment was going to make her week. Santana let out a surprised yelp as Brittany toppled her onto her back, but there were fingers dancing over her skin and a knee parting her legs, and she couldn't think to protest.
"Come on, keep up," Brittany told her, and her eyes were sparkling with pure entertainment. "I'm at least five steps ahead of you right now." Santana would have protested that, because, hello, she was still in her bra and Brittany was wonderfully topless. Except Brittany still had her shorts on, and the delicious pressure of her knee against slick heat told her that somehow Brittany had managed to pull ahead when she wasn’t paying attention. Santana tried to scowl at her, because damn it, she hated losing, but Brittany grinned and rolled her hips, and Santana’s head tipped backwards, her eyes widening. Brittany laughed, and this time Santana did manage the scowl.
“What’re you laughing at?”
“Your face is funny.”
Okay, that was just too far. Santana used a considerable amount of effort to flip them over, glaring down at Brittany’s pink smile. “My face is not funny.”
“Okay,” Brittany said complacently, but it was the surprised delight in her eyes that mollified her. “Is it okay if I say your face is pretty, or are you gonna roll us off the bed? Because I’d really rather stay on the bed. Carpet burn, y’know,” Brittany added, as Santana gave that some serious contemplation.
“I guess that’d be okay,” she said finally, unable to stop herself from smiling through her faked reluctance.
“Your face is really pretty,” Brittany told her, her smile softening.
“Thanks,” Santana said, her face warming as Brittany put two fingers to the corner of her mouth. The motion felt too serious for what this was, and when Brittany lifted herself up to press a kiss to her lips, Santana purposefully tightened her hands in her hair, deepening the kiss until Brittany’s lips were making soft smiling noises of appreciation instead of words.
“It’s just that I wasn’t expecting to like you,” Brittany said. Holy shit. How was she still talking when Santana had her pants down around her ankles? This was getting ridiculous. Santana resolutely ignored her, focussing instead on running a hand up in between her thighs. “Uhm… Rach was talking like you were Godzilla or something, but you’re totally not scary at all.” Santana paused, her lips hovering over damp skin.
“Okay, can you not talk about Rachel Berry when I’m about to go down on you? Least sexy thing ever.”
Brittany giggled. “Sorry, sorry, keep going.” Santana sighed, and Brittany shivered at the warm air. “Rach is pretty hot though.”
“Oh my god,” Santana groaned, her forehead hitting Brittany’s hip bone. Brittany giggled again. “This is all kinds of wrong. You need to quit talking if I’ve got any hope of getting off.”
“Hmm?” Brittany asked, twisting so that the hand that had been creeping down Santana's side for the last few minutes could fill her so suddenly that she lost the thread of conversation. She jerked into Brittany’s hand, a low moan shocked from her lungs. “What was that sorry?” Brittany asked again, pulling out for just long enough for Santana to lick her lips and open her mouth before she thrust back inside, adding another finger. She flipped them back over, her hand angling in a way that made Santana scrabble for words, for a place to put her hands, for air. Her thumb started a quick insistent circling around her clit, and Santana's hips jolted towards her, keening as her orgasm took her by complete surprise. “Brittany wins,” Brittany said happily, licking her fingers clean.
“That is so... what. You can’t just--” Santana stared at her with wide eyes. That had taken so little time that it was actually embarrassing. Jesus Christ her whole body was shaking, this was ridiculous.
“Sorry,” Brittany said, dipping her head. Her lips brushed up against Santana’s, and her kiss was slow and concerned. “I thought you liked fast. We can go slower, if you want.”
“No,” Santana said, hearing the roughness in her own voice, surprised at just how much she needed to see Brittany’s face tense with pleasure. She kissed her again, fierce and possessing, guiding her back down against the pillows. As soon as she left her lips to skate her fingers down her body though --
“So what high school did you go to?”
“Oh my god, are you kidding me right now?”
“Well, I don’t know what high school you went to. Don’t you think that’s weird?”
“Not really at all,” Santana muttered, deciding that she was actually going to ignore her this time.
“I mean, I like to talk when I’m bored.”
“You’re-” Santana spluttered, looking up to find Brittany giggling at her. Santana held her gaze for a moment, then smirked. Alright. “I went to the same high school as Quinn,” she said, her fingers playing with the top of Brittany’s curls. This time, she was watching Brittany’s face, and she noticed the way all of Brittany’s attention was on the progress of her hand.
“You - oh - I thought you didn’t like talking about Rachel and Quinn?” Santana’s fingers brushed over smooth skin, watching as Brittany’s eyes fluttered closed.
“Just Rachel. Quinn’s hot.”
“She totally is. Th…that’s how I met.” The rest of Brittany’s words got caught in her throat. Santana hummed against her thigh, scraping her teeth over a freckle and flicking her tongue out.
“How you met?” Santana prodded, smirking. Maybe Brittany was on to something; this talking thing wasn't the worst idea in the world.
“How Rach and I met Q,” Brittany managed, and Santana looked up from what she was doing with her fingers to find herself caught in Brittany’s smile, and the flush of her chest, and the intensity in her eyes. “I was like, hitting on her, and Rach came over and she was s’posed to be helping, only then Q liked her more.” She looked so upset over it that Santana had to laugh.
“That’s insulting.”
“It totally was, don’t stop, please,” Brittany sighed, her flush spreading as Santana curled her fingers and gently circled Brittany’s clit with her thumb. Brittany looked ridiculously pretty right now; her pale pink nipples were pebbled, and the light from her window painted her in a soft glow that made her look almost unreal. Santana’s movements slowed, wanting to make this last, because Brittany was captivating like this, with her blue eyes darkened and half-lidded as she watched her. She was the prettiest thing Santana had ever seen, and weirdly enough, she actually seemed to like her. There wasn’t any reason for her to; Santana was pretty sure she hadn’t done anything to encourage that sort of thing. Most of the time she was pretty sure even her best friend didn’t like her, so to have that just handed over was unexpected, but not completely unwelcome.
Brittany’s thighs tightened. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” Brittany said, and Santana smiled against her hip.
“I won’t,” she said softly, leaning to lick a path up her quivering thigh. Brittany whimpered, clasping her hands behind her head in a seemingly relaxed manner, as if the rest of her body wasn’t drawn taut.
Santana’s fingers curled and twisted, and when her tongue flicked out just above them, the groan that was torn from Brittany’s mouth made Santana shiver bodily. The pace of her fingers built steadily, until Brittany’s skin reddened and dampened, and the only sounds in the room were the slick push and pull of Santana’s fingers and Brittany’s breathy panting. When she came, it was with a whimper swallowed in the back of her throat and her hands shooting out to clutch at the pillows. Santana's movements slowed, her heart thudding uncomfortably fast against her ribs, kissing Brittany's thigh and feeling her twitch in response. Brittany giggled, her face flushed and her smile huge, and although she wasn't sure what was funny, Santana couldn't help but laugh with her.
It was only when Santana was looking at the satisfied, sleepy smile on Brittany’s lips as she curled up around her that she realised that she was cuddling. After sex. In her own bed. It was a bizarre feeling, because this was something she’d always vehemently tried to avoid. She’d never thought that she was the kind of person to enjoy this, and she’d always been fine with that. She’d never felt this weird hope before, like this might develop into something that would mean that she could have this for longer than a night. She gave a small hum of contentment as Brittany’s fingers sifted through her hair, closing her eyes and deciding that maybe the whole Quinn breaking her arm thing wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened, letting the warmth from Brittany’s body seep underneath her skin.