(no subject)
Title: Your Ex-Lover is Dead
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: PG
Summary: Even though it seems nothings changed, it probably has
Spoilers: It's sometime in the future
“So you wanna join us for wine night later? Bring you own bottle and we’ll be parked in front of Wal*Mart around midnight,” her co-worker mentions, as she clocks out.
“Afraid I can’t, but thanks for the offer,” Santana replies easily, a step behind him.
“Right, you and your girlie gonna get down and dirty tonight?” Tommy questions, giving her a knowing grin. Without hesitation Santana just slaps him in the back of the head before heading out of the store.
Walking into their apartment, Santana dropped her keys and bag on the couch as she made her way toward the kitchen. Looking through the dimly lit fridge, she moved some dishes aside before settling on a container of some left over pasta Brittany had made a few days go. Popping it in the microwave Santana went about to prepare for a grand night of homework and dinner. After the light ‘ding’ she pulls out her plate and places it next to an open textbook. While digging in, she sets about reading the text, stopping to highlight things deemed important. Hours later, her plate lay forgotten as she continued to focus on the text.
Her eyes were tired and her body was sore, it was time for bed. Letting out a yawn, she closes her book, leaves her plate in the sink, and prepares for sleep. She’d been in bed, knocked out, when she feels Brittany slide in next to her. Upon hearing a whispered greeting, she lays a kiss on the back of the other girl’s shoulder and curls in close. Before falling asleep, Santana forces herself to ignore the new scent that’s followed Brittany to their bed; some kind of fruity smelling shit.
It is pitch black when Santana is awoken by soft lips making their way up her neck. Eyes still closed, her hands easily find their way to Brittany’s waist by the time their lips meet. While they kiss, Brittany’s fingers move with precision and purpose, knowing exactly how to make Santana gasp and hold her tighter. Brittany’s lips are suddenly on her shoulder, and soon there are teeth digging in, she can’t help but moan when her entire body jerks forward, into Brittany. Grinding herself against her lover becomes second nature, and for a moment, things being to feel like they once did. It’s not long, before both girls are laying down, taking comfort in each other.
Santana loves how her hands seem to fit perfectly on the curve of Brittany’s waist, or how even in complete darkness she knows for a fact that in seconds Brittany’s finger will start involuntarily drawing unrecognized patterns… ahhh, there it is… somewhere on her body. It’s the feel of Brittany’s leg sandwiched between hers that brings about a contented half-smile. But it’s the moment that she whispers “I love you,” and she feels Brittany give the slightest hint of pause before she hears the same words repeated back. Santana ignores the tone in which its received and just accepts the words. She ignores the fact that when she breathes in the scent of Brittany’s hair, it’s not the smell of jasmine vanilla shampoo, rather it’s… some fruity concoction, her memory reminds her. So instead of saying something, she turns her head slightly, preferring the smell of the remnants of their lovemaking,
Knowing that whatever momentary comfort they had has just disappeared, Santana makes an effort and places a soft kiss on the girls’ forehead, placing another soft kiss on her lips, she scoots down just a tad bit, so that the last kiss softly falls on Brittany’s neck. After, she settles in, an arm around a waist, and revels in the comfort of Brittany pulling her closer. Neither of them will bring up the fact that while Santana seems to be holding on for dear life, Brittany seems to be a little shaky. In the morning, Santana won’t ask why Brittany’s eyes seem so puffy and Brittany won’t mention the small bits of skin she’s lost thanks to Santana’s nails. So they settle in, take comfort from what they can, and fall into a restless sleep.
By mornings’ time, Santana’s the first one to wake, her body has become a body pillow and Brittany’s arms and legs are wrapped around her. The sheets for the most part have been kicked away, and it’s this slightest bit that brings a smile to Santana’s face. While cool mornings existed, Santana’s body, for some reason, seemed to have provided more than enough heat for the both of them. As Brittany had put it many years ago, Santana was her very own electric blanket. For as long as they’d been wrapped in each other, this was how mornings were meant to be.
It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that Brittany came home with a new scent tagged on her, or that when she did laundry it was obvious that certain pairs of panties belonged to neither of them. None of it mattered really, because in the end Brittany would continue to wrap her arms and legs around Santana.
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: PG
Summary: Even though it seems nothings changed, it probably has
Spoilers: It's sometime in the future
“So you wanna join us for wine night later? Bring you own bottle and we’ll be parked in front of Wal*Mart around midnight,” her co-worker mentions, as she clocks out.
“Afraid I can’t, but thanks for the offer,” Santana replies easily, a step behind him.
“Right, you and your girlie gonna get down and dirty tonight?” Tommy questions, giving her a knowing grin. Without hesitation Santana just slaps him in the back of the head before heading out of the store.
Walking into their apartment, Santana dropped her keys and bag on the couch as she made her way toward the kitchen. Looking through the dimly lit fridge, she moved some dishes aside before settling on a container of some left over pasta Brittany had made a few days go. Popping it in the microwave Santana went about to prepare for a grand night of homework and dinner. After the light ‘ding’ she pulls out her plate and places it next to an open textbook. While digging in, she sets about reading the text, stopping to highlight things deemed important. Hours later, her plate lay forgotten as she continued to focus on the text.
Her eyes were tired and her body was sore, it was time for bed. Letting out a yawn, she closes her book, leaves her plate in the sink, and prepares for sleep. She’d been in bed, knocked out, when she feels Brittany slide in next to her. Upon hearing a whispered greeting, she lays a kiss on the back of the other girl’s shoulder and curls in close. Before falling asleep, Santana forces herself to ignore the new scent that’s followed Brittany to their bed; some kind of fruity smelling shit.
It is pitch black when Santana is awoken by soft lips making their way up her neck. Eyes still closed, her hands easily find their way to Brittany’s waist by the time their lips meet. While they kiss, Brittany’s fingers move with precision and purpose, knowing exactly how to make Santana gasp and hold her tighter. Brittany’s lips are suddenly on her shoulder, and soon there are teeth digging in, she can’t help but moan when her entire body jerks forward, into Brittany. Grinding herself against her lover becomes second nature, and for a moment, things being to feel like they once did. It’s not long, before both girls are laying down, taking comfort in each other.
Santana loves how her hands seem to fit perfectly on the curve of Brittany’s waist, or how even in complete darkness she knows for a fact that in seconds Brittany’s finger will start involuntarily drawing unrecognized patterns… ahhh, there it is… somewhere on her body. It’s the feel of Brittany’s leg sandwiched between hers that brings about a contented half-smile. But it’s the moment that she whispers “I love you,” and she feels Brittany give the slightest hint of pause before she hears the same words repeated back. Santana ignores the tone in which its received and just accepts the words. She ignores the fact that when she breathes in the scent of Brittany’s hair, it’s not the smell of jasmine vanilla shampoo, rather it’s… some fruity concoction, her memory reminds her. So instead of saying something, she turns her head slightly, preferring the smell of the remnants of their lovemaking,
Knowing that whatever momentary comfort they had has just disappeared, Santana makes an effort and places a soft kiss on the girls’ forehead, placing another soft kiss on her lips, she scoots down just a tad bit, so that the last kiss softly falls on Brittany’s neck. After, she settles in, an arm around a waist, and revels in the comfort of Brittany pulling her closer. Neither of them will bring up the fact that while Santana seems to be holding on for dear life, Brittany seems to be a little shaky. In the morning, Santana won’t ask why Brittany’s eyes seem so puffy and Brittany won’t mention the small bits of skin she’s lost thanks to Santana’s nails. So they settle in, take comfort from what they can, and fall into a restless sleep.
By mornings’ time, Santana’s the first one to wake, her body has become a body pillow and Brittany’s arms and legs are wrapped around her. The sheets for the most part have been kicked away, and it’s this slightest bit that brings a smile to Santana’s face. While cool mornings existed, Santana’s body, for some reason, seemed to have provided more than enough heat for the both of them. As Brittany had put it many years ago, Santana was her very own electric blanket. For as long as they’d been wrapped in each other, this was how mornings were meant to be.
It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that Brittany came home with a new scent tagged on her, or that when she did laundry it was obvious that certain pairs of panties belonged to neither of them. None of it mattered really, because in the end Brittany would continue to wrap her arms and legs around Santana.