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sohemotional · 28 days

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That Don't Impress Me Much - A Brittana Fic

Summary: The blonde dancer totally knew the effect she had on her. It was so easy to rile the dark-haired woman up and as she beckoned her closer with a finger, Santana kept gazing at her lips, making it so obvious what she wanted.

She leaned closer, knowing that Santana would feel her breathing against her neck and as she expected, there was a sharp, aroused intake of breath from the Latina.

She even closed her eyes, puckering her lips as if Brittany was going to kiss her.

As if.

“My name is no. My sign is no. My number is no. You need to let it go.”

Brittany is tired of being taken advantage of by selfish, egotistical jerks, so she makes a plan with her friend Tina that she can make some idiot fall for her and then ditch them after she has had her fun. Her plans backfire when she’s swept off her feet by arrogant yet surprisingly sweet celebrity Santana Lopez.

Rating: M

Read More on AO3

***This is a companion piece to my other Brittana AU fic, "My Name Is No (You Need To Let It Go),” which you can find here on tumblr or on AO3

Brittany had just about had enough of fuckboys and fuckgirls.

There she was, sitting alone in a crummy little diner, all by her lonesome on Saturday night, her date nowhere to be found. Being the only hot, young blonde in fishnets, heels so high she was close to God, and a skirt so short it was probably illegal while surrounded by desperate bikers and hicks who licked their lips as they leered at her should have made her feel like she was walking through the valley of the shadow of death. Or maybe she should have felt the way those fish in her dad’s aquarium felt that time Lord Tubbington took up scuba diving as his new hobby.

Instead, Brittany was unfazed. As she water-skied down the highway of life, she had seen it all.

That one old Dolly Parton song her mother and Grandma Rose from St. Olaf used to like so much was playing in the background now. It made her pretty nostalgic for the good old days in the Pierce house. Sometimes Brittany felt this one should have been the soundtrack to her life, if she ever had to choose a replacement for “Candy” by Cameo.

Don't try to cry your way out of this

Don't try to lie or I'll catch you in it

Don't try to make me feel sorry for you

Just because I'm blonde

Don't think I'm dumb

Cause this dumb blonde ain't nobody's fool

When you left you thought I'd sit

An' you thought I'd wait

An' you thought I'd cry

You called me a dumb blonde

Ah, but somehow I lived through it

And you know if there's one thing this blonde has learned

Blondes have more fun

There was nothing Brittany loved more than sex and she knew she was the best. Hoeing was her hobby. If there were competitions for this, she would have won the Olympic Gold medal. In fact, she had won the kissing competition in Lima five years in a row easily, if that meant anything.

Sure fuckboys and fuckgirls were kinda fun, especially when she got them in bed for the fucking part of things but a girl needed some romance in her life too.

After the first few times, she was over them. No one could hold her interest and it seemed like she never held theirs. To them, she was always just stupid bimbo slut Brittany. Good for an easy lay but not for a relationship.

Sure she knew she was hot but Brittany was beginning to wonder why she was never the girl who got flowers or love confessions and marriage proposals made to her. She was never the girl who got her happily ever after.

All she wanted was a cowboy to ride her off into the sunset.

“Tina, he just left me,” She sobbed into the phone as she heard Mike muttering something to his girlfriend in the background that vaguely sounded like him asking where Brittany was. “I’m at the Little Alien Inn!”

So now she was crying because she got ditched again.

“Bad bitches don’t cry.”

At least, that was what Tina told her when she and Mike stopped by to take her home but Brittany wasn’t so sure she was a bad bitch at that moment.

Mike and Tina each grabbed one of her arms, all about dragging her out of the diner in her bra and skirt when she had started to take off her clothes and perform a strip show on top of a table as she often did.

“You must think I’m such a mess.” Brittany sobbed, mascara running down her cheeks. Tina and Mike who were accustomed to picking up Brittany from sleazy bars and motels weren’t particularly surprised by any of this.

“Oh Britt, it’s not you. It’s that vile idiot. You don’t need any of them! Just be your hot girl self. You’re an independent woman who don’t need no man or woman! Hot girl summer and all that.”

Brittany wasn’t so sure about that at the moment. She felt like a codependent woman who was very much in need of a man or woman.

“Maybe Room Temperature Girl Summer?”

Tina shook her head, a long-suffering expression on her face, snorting out an incredulous, unladylike laugh as she passed another tissue to the blonde. She was so accustomed to Brittany’s oddball personality that she had come to expect comments like that from her. Apparently noticing that her tall, blonde friend was moping the night away on their couch with a pout on her face, she took pity on her.

“Here’s an idea: make a game out of it. Make some fuckboy go all crazy for you next time and then you ditch them when you’ve had your fun and laugh in their face.”

“Oh this, I’d pay to see.” Mike chimed in from across the room.

A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of Brittany’s lips as she thought her friends were making a good point.

That night, something hardened inside of her and changed for her.

Tina was right, it was time she had some more self-respect and Brittany began to realize how much more she was worth than just a quick lay in the backseat of someone’s car until they moved on to the next girl.

——

She got her confidence back pretty quickly because if there was one thing about Brittany it was that she didn’t stay depressed for long.

So the next week she was slinking around The Pussy Cat with feline-like confidence and agility, ignoring the men who gawked at her, hissing and cat-calling as she passed by. She didn’t have a care in the world.

Who cared about girlfriends and boyfriends? She was just there to have fun with her friends. So that’s what she was going to do.

She was having such a great time that she really did forget about her troubles.

Then she felt her burning gaze on her from across the room. The stranger in question was a Latina with black hair, equally dark eyes, glowing dark skin, and a very slim but toned build. Her long hair fell in perfectly tousled dark waves.

She didn’t take her eyes off of Brittany once and had her jaw dropped as she took in the sight of the blonde. The blonde had never seen such a clear demonstration of “undressing someone with your eyes” in action.

Brittany couldn’t deny that the woman had this powerful, commanding aura about her.

She paid absolutely no mind to it, humming to herself as she twirled around and rolled her body perfectly in time with the beat. Then she sauntered back to her friends, giggling to herself as she thought of something her cat had done the night before.

Sugar tapped her on the shoulder.

“Oh Britt, you’ve got another admirer. That one is checking you out so hard. She looks like she’s drooling. I can see her boner from over here… ”

Brittany’s friends began to snicker obnoxiously. The blonde smirked and shrugged. It was super obvious that the painfully horny brunette was checking her out the entire time, muttering “Humina, humina,” but Brittany wasn’t bothered one way or another.

“Oh, okay. I just want to dance.”

Tina, Sugar, Marley, and the others were gawking at her. Sugar eventually piped up.

“Don’t you know who that is?! It’s Santana Lopez.”

“Who?”

“Brittany! How do you not know? She’s a celebrity! She was on Bad Girls Club.”

“Oh.”

“She’s openly lesbian too.”

“No duh. I could tell,” Brittany stated dryly, remembering how that woman had stared at her legs and ass. Come to think of it, Santana was still doing that. Brittany shook her head, rolling her eyes fondly at her friend. Sugar was always trying to matchmake her with someone and that girl knew everything about celebrities. She looked down at her nails, inspecting the pale pink polish on them while she knew Santana was checking her out again. “Uh, whatever. So not interested.”

She definitely wasn’t looking for anyone that night but if she managed to torment them, then that was a bonus. Men and some women always seemed to assume that if Brittany was dancing, it meant she was looking for a partner.

“What’s all that noise?” Brittany spoke up, hearing a bit of a commotion. “It’s kind of annoying.”

It turned out that the woman who had been checking her out was being totally loud and obnoxious now. She laughed really loudly, banging her fist on the table and being a total show-off. She threw back drinks until she was visibly red in the face. Then she started to sing as she got up on the table, drawing a crowd until some short woman with a serious expression pulled her back down before she embarrassed herself. She clearly thought she was so desirable and hot.

She probably thought that Brittany didn’t notice how she kept sneaking glances in her direction. A sly smirk came to Brittany’s lips. This woman was such a goofy dork and she was extremely obvious. Brittany had never seen someone who tried so, so hard and was so painfully lacking in self-awareness.

It was almost cute.

Brittany knew this woman’s type just from looking at her. She was also a little psychic.

She could tell this stranger was such a stereotypical arrogant womanizer with an ego the size of a small planet and thought of women as nothing more than warm bodies. She was so vain, she probably looked at herself in every reflective surface she passed. She was so selfish and spoiled that she thought the world revolved around her.

She was totally Brittany’s type.

She didn’t need her though. She was done with playboys forever.

At least that’s what she told herself when she followed her friends over to the bar. She taken a few sips from the strawberry daiquiri in her hand when she began to blink in confusion as a margarita was placed in front of her.

“It’s from that lady over there. She sent this and she asked me to tell you that you’re stunning.”

“Aw, that’s sweet. Tell her I’m so not interested.” Brittany quipped with a sassy flip of her long wavy hair.

Brittany glanced over her shoulder to see Santana waving and giving her this smug smile that made these stupid, cute dimples deepen on both of her cheeks.

Tina and her other friends were just watching her with amusement as Brittany continued to ignore Santana. All of her friends clearly found this so hilarious, though they were supporting her in her decision to completely ignore all the perverts and fuckboys who were trying to get her.

“Wow, Santana’s really going for it. Looks like someone’s dying for your attention.” Mike chuckled.

“Ugh, here we go. I so don’t care. She’s just horny. Why do they always see a woman sitting alone and assume she wants a companion?” The sass was dripping from Brittany’s voice as she tossed her hair back over her shoulder and curled her lip, ignoring the drink Santana sent her. “Newsflash, no thanks.”

Santana kept giving her the eye no matter how much Brittany made it clear that she wasn’t going to fall into her arms. Ugh, Brittany rolled her eyes with exasperation and amusement, couldn’t Ms. Egotistical take a hint?

Apparently not.

“Oh don’t look now, here she comes. She got it bad.” Sugar snorted as everyone began to chuckle at the sight of Santana Lopez swaggering over with her shoulders thrown back.

Brittany had to hand it to her, the woman was the only one who had been brave enough to approach her like this all night.

Too bad the blonde was so not in the mood.

Brittany was feeling bitchy. She knew the routine by now. They all wanted to know her name, her number, her sign… Brittany was curious about whatever sleazy pick-up line Ms. Arrogant was going to give her and she didn’t disappoint.

Santana had this stupid, cute cheesy smirk on her face and her teeth were gleaming white.

She was so typical Hollywood sleaze.

“Hi. You’re gorgeous,” Okay, she was starting off being a little charming with that opening line, Brittany had to admit but she just knew the sleaze would be coming next. “Dayum, Girl. Where’d you learn to dance like that? Who you dancing like that for looking all hot like that?”

Not for you, Jerk :) That’s for sure.

“What I want to know is, what time them legs open?”

Like I haven’t heard that one a million times before…

It was so lame. Even though she was in stunned disbelief, Brittany couldn’t help but notice Santana now and she gave it back to her with a sassy comeback of her own.

“Oh, is that supposed to be a pick up line?”

Brittany was beginning to wonder if Santana had ever actually flirted with a woman before, far less managed to pick up one. There was a flash of lust in her dark eyes when Brittany said that and she looked as if she was about to combust on the spot.

“So, you know, I’m on top of things. Would you like to be one of them?”

Brittany could barely hold back her laugh, cupping a hand over her mouth as she rolled her eyes. Santana continued to puff up her chest and peacock around her, as if she expected Brittany to be totally impressed.

“Ooo, is it hot in here, or is it just you?”

She could not be for real. This was the great, powerful celebrity Santana Lopez her friends were in awe of? She really thought she was charming the dress off of Brittany with those corny lines.

Brittany couldn’t wait to tell Tina about this later. She knew her friend would be laughing about it forever.

“Ooo, I’m in trouble.”

Santana as always, was unfazed by Brittany’s ice cold, dismissive attitude. The preppy blonde decided to tease her even more, getting close and poking her finger into Santana’s chest confidently. Brittany couldn’t deny that the way Santana’s eyebrows rose and her lips parted as if she was flustered by the blonde invading her personal space amused her to no end.

“Oh that’s how it is, huh? What’s your name, Pretty Girl?”

Anytime Brittany was snippy towards her, the woman looked at her with obvious arousal written all over her face. She was pushing back her dark hair, trying so, so hard to look all cool and suave but she had this stupid, goofy look of excitement on her face that made it difficult for Brittany not to start giggling. She had to cover her hand over her mouth as she laughed in her face.

The more Brittany acted all aloof and mysterious, the more she turned on Ms. Egomaniac. She swore she saw the woman clenching her thighs together when Brittany gave another sassy response to her.

Brittany had been one of the most popular cheerleaders at school and homecoming queen. She knew how to handle vain, uncouth Santana Lopez types.

Except she had never met anyone quite as hot as Santana before.

Now that she was so physically close to Santana, she couldn’t stop herself from checking the girl out, noticing that she was slightly shorter than her with a toned, slim build that the simple black dress she was wearing displayed so well. Brittany couldn’t help but notice the slight muscle tone in her arms and how radiant her brown skin was.

Santana gave her another smug look, as if she could tell that Brittany liked what she saw. Whatever. If she thought Brittany was just going to give in to her, she had another thing coming.

If there was one thing Brittany knew, it was flirting.

She learned it straight from her blonde, buxom mother, the original harlot and heartbreaker of Lima in her day before she had settled down. If she wanted to, she could get this girl into bed, easy as ABC.

Brittany didn’t even have to try and that’s exactly why she wasn’t gonna let her get what she wanted so easily.

The blonde dancer totally knew the effect she had on her. It was so easy to rile the dark-haired woman up and as she beckoned her closer with a finger, Santana kept gazing at her lips, making it so obvious what she wanted.

She leaned closer, knowing that Santana would feel her breathing against her neck and as she expected, there was a sharp, aroused intake of breath from the Latina.

She even closed her eyes, puckering her lips as if Brittany was going to kiss her.

As if.

“My name is no. My sign is no. My number is no. You need to let it go.”

She couldn’t stop giggling at the sight of Santana frozen in place with her lips sticking out, clearly not expecting this turn of events as Brittany just sang that song to her.

No kisses for you, Hot Shot, She smiled to herself.

Talk about embarrassing. How was Ms. Big Shot Movie Star ever gonna recover from that one?

Brittany was a professional dancer and she could easily outdo everyone in the club but that didn’t seem to stop Santana from trying to keep up with her. She began to dance beside her energetically as Temperature by Sean Paul played.

“You’re cocky. That’s how you dance?” Brittany was in stunned disbelief yet again, amused by the way Santana was being so ridiculous. She was clearly trying so hard to impress her and it was having the opposite effect. Santana was being such a clown and people around them were starting to give them strange looks.

“You like that, huh, Babe?” The woman was all up on her, her arm settling around her waist as she husked into her ear. “You want all up on this, don’t you? I’ll make you feel so good, Princess. Trust me. I’ll make you scream my name.”

Santana’s voice was so hazy and raspy. Brittany felt heat rush to her face, right up her neck to her ears, shocked by what she heard… and kind of intrigued. Santana couldn’t really think Brittany would give in just from that locker room talk. She didn’t want Santana to see how affected she was by her comment but of course, Santana saw everything.

Apparently the woman noticed the blush on Brittany’s face too and she was amused.

“Is that so?” She challenged, making sure to flutter her eyelashes.

“You bet. I think we should get to know each other better. Preferably with way less clothes on.”

Was that the best Santana had?

“Hmm, oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? What else?”

“Roses are red, violets are fine. You be a six and I’ll be a nine.”

Santana might have been the funniest person to ever exist. She couldn’t be for real.

“Mm hm. Is that all?”

The celebrity began to tell her all about what she wanted to do with her when she got her in bed, making her appreciation for Brittany’s ass obvious. She wasn’t expecting her to grind up on her like that. The feeling of Santana’s hips moving against hers and her husky voice against her ear made it kind of hard for her to remember that she wasn’t supposed to give in to her.

She was such a horny jerk and Brittany’s jaw dropped in disbelief at how crude she was being as the blush in her cheeks intensified.

Santana was just a little too excited, acting as if she was entitled to getting into Brittany’s pants and that just wouldn’t do. At least not until Brittany was ready for that. If she decided she wanted her. Brittany was gonna have to remind her to back off a little until she wined and dined her enough - if Brittany deigned to allow her to.

She wagged a finger.

“Nuh uh. I don’t think so.”

She needed to extract herself from Santana’s arms. So she raised her knee the way she saw on a TV show about women defending themselves from muggers and got her right up in the area between her legs.

Not in a fun way either.

Santana’s eyes went comically wide in stunned disbelief and she took a tumble on her ass.

“Did I do that? Oops! My Bad!” She giggled with faux-innocence, not meaning a word of it.

Brittany walked back over to her friends victoriously as they clapped and cheered for her. In fact, almost the entire club had stopped to watch the whole spectacle as Santana struggled to regain her dignity.

“Brittany, I am so proud of you. You are the ultimate boss, oh my God!” Tina congratulated her then turned back to her phone. “Santana Lopez getting clamslammed and kneed right in the vagina by a mystery woman is already trending on Twitter.”

“You’re not leaving with her?” Sugar looked shocked when the blonde waltzed over, making her exit. Brittany not going home with someone, especially someone like Santana, was about as rare as a blue moon. “This never happens. She’s just your type. She’s rich, super famous, good-looking, shallow, dumb…”

“Not really. She’s gonna have to try harder if she wants all of this.” Brittany flipped her hair over her shoulder with complete confidence and sass, gesturing to the curves of her body. She knew Santana could hear her. Santana blinked at her stupidly a few times, apparently disoriented by her hotness.

She turned just in time to see Santana limping over to her pathetically.

Brittany was confused. Why was Santana gazing at her in fascination, as if Brittany was the most gorgeous, entrancing being she had ever encountered even though her groin and ego were in a world of hurt?

“What’s your name?”

Maybe it was because Santana was so cute but Brittany couldn’t help but flirt a little despite herself. Maybe she didn’t want their game to be over just yet. They were both sweaty and flushed, somewhat breathless from all the dancing.

“You need to let it go,” She teased, watching Santana closely as the woman attempted to regain her composure and act like she was unaffected. “It’s Brittany.”

____

That would be far from the last she saw of Ms. Can't Take No For An Answer, even if she had humiliated her.

She had never met anyone quite as determined and persistent as Santana Lopez.

Apparently, when the Empress of the Universe wanted something, she always got her way and she wasn’t accustomed to being told “No.”

Apparently Santana was really into the whole prissy mean girl side of Brittany.

She was also the most obvious person on the face of the planet. Brittany snorted when Tina sent her a link to a new article. The headline was pretty interesting.

Santana Lopez Dedicates New Hit Single to Mystery Blonde - Who is “Brittany from The Pussy Cat?”

A video of her giving Santana a swift knee upward to the vaginal area had gone viral as well.

Even Santana’s hardcore fans were amused by it all.

Brittany noticed that Santana had left a bunch of comments on her thirst traps, making it extremely clear what she thought of them. The internet was going crazy making fun of how lusty and obsessed Santana was being but that hadn’t seemed to deter the woman either, despite Brittany ignoring all of her attempts to hit on her.

That Brittany S. Pierce must have some Grade A Prime Pussy for Santana to be simping this hard for her…

“Jesus Christ, the thirst,” Tina chuckled as Mike, Marley and Sugar couldn’t stop giggling beside her on the couch in the blonde’s apartment when she showed them her phone screen. They read yet another private message the woman sent to Brittany that was strongly suggesting what she wanted to do with her. “Goddamn. She really wants you.”

“She’s just horny for me. She’ll get over it.”

I’m just another conquest for her…

“Be honest, do you think she’s attractive?” Sugar asked, raising an eyebrow. “At all?”

She had watched all of Santana’s scenes on Bad Girls Club several times, looked at a bunch of her magazine photoshoots - she figured she needed to do her research, after all - and she even loved her songs that flopped. That didn’t mean anything though. Santana Lopez was just a silly pompous rich girl just like the rest of them.

“I mean, if you’re into the whole disgruntled, awkward cat aesthetic maybe. Her upper lip kinda reminds me of a duck.” She deflected.

Everyone laughed as she said this.

“You definitely should stay away from her. I know Santana well and she’s a total arrogant jerk. She thinks of women as disposable objects.”

“Oh, is she?” Brittany snorted sarcastically. “That’s a shocker. Don’t worry, Tina, believe me you don’t have to worry about me falling for her.”

Brittany’s apartment was so very pink and decorated in such an eccentric way that most people were a little taken aback when they walked in for the first time.

Eventually, her entire living space became crowded with bouquets of pink flowers Santana had sent to her address. She sent ridiculously expensive jewellery, chocolates, and dresses. Brittany didn’t even know how she figured out all of Brittany’s favourite colours and things like that but she wasn’t about to get rid of them… she liked expensive gifts.

She never responded to any of Santana’s gifts, knowing it would drive her insane. Santana got her number from Tina and Mike, who were their mutual friends. Truth be told, Tina had always found Santana annoying anyway and they were more like frenemies as that feeling was mutual, so she was happy to assist Brittany in her plan to troll Santana.

Brittany answered Santana’s calls just enough to toy with her and keep her guessing, then ignored her whenever she felt like it.

It was all part of her plan.

“What am I supposed to do with all of this stuff?” The blonde whined halfheartedly as Lord Tubbington knocked over the growing pile of chocolate boxes.

“You could send it back if you really don’t want it.” Mike suggested with a shrug.

“I would… but pink diamonds are really nice,” Brittany pouted. “I might need another dress too.”

“This almost sounds like one of those sugar daddy type of situations,” The man shook his head at her, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I’m not surprised, since it’s you after all.”

“Except, she won’t be getting any sugar.” Britt winked. Tina smirked at her in agreement, giving her a high five.

“You are the queen of manipulation. You’re really gonna get this woman to spend herself bankrupt, aren’t you? Yes, Girl. I say, use all the power you have to your advantage. Stress that fuckgirl out. Make her work for it, Britt. Make her suffer!”

Sugar, Marley and Jake fell silent, taken aback by the short, gothic woman. Mike glanced over with a nervous expression as he heard Tina’s words, followed by her evil cackle.

“You’re torturing the shit out of her! I love it. Get it, Girl.”

Brittany felt proud.

“Hey, if she wants all this she’s gonna have to work for it.”

“Hey, Britt, I think there’s someone at your door. Must be another delivery from Ms. Egomaniac.” Sugar chimed in.

The tall blonde just shrugged, traipsing over and eventually returning with a new parcel. Brittany blushed reddish pink up to her ears, gasping at a new, skimpy lingerie set that she unwrapped. She held up the light blue, lacy lingerie as her friends began to wolf whistle jokingly and some of them made gagging noises.

Against her better judgment, she answered Santana’s call when that familiar number flashed on her phone a few minutes later.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve sending this,” She sniffed, trying to sound bitchy and cold as she told her off. “Do you really think that’s appropriate? You horny bastard.”

Santana was laughing down the line. She was actually laughing, that cheeky bitch.

“You like it, Babe? Gonna put it on and model it just for me, Querida?”

“I am not your��Querida.”

She did like the lingerie a lot but Santana didn’t need to know that. If her ego got any bigger it would probably explode.

She hung up before Santana could answer. Deep down, she knew Santana would love that response even more.

****Read the rest of this story on AO3

#brittana #brittany s. pierce #santana lopez #Brittany Pierce #Glee #Brittana Fanfiction #Santana and Brittany #my fics #My Name is No series #Brittana AU

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words-of-mo · 13 days

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#Glee #Brittana #fanfiction - Chapter 60 of “Tell our story” is finally online! "Santana and Brittany move forward with their baby project, but unexpected events delay their plans."

General synopsis of this fanfic: "A 6 months pregnant Santana tries to sell her Glee TV show project while Brittany runs a successful dance school in L.A. with Mike Chang”. Focuses on Brittana’s personal and professional developments. Sweet, funny but also dramatic at times. Features most of the Glee characters. Rated M.

#brittana #santana lopez #brittany pierce #glee #santanalopez #fanfic #fanfiction #naya rivera #brittanypierce #heather morris #brittana fanfiction #quinn fabray #the unholy trinity #mike chang #dianna agron

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summerkid12 · 8 months

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Hi friends. It's been a while. I know I've been absent and left many things unfinished. I'm going to be completely transparent here as to why I vanished. My cousin who was like my brother (12 days apart) passed away in 2016 of an OD.

Life got hard.

I literally found pleasure in nothing. I stopped talking. Working. Doing anything I loved. I stopped playing soccer and softball. Which is kind of ironic because my cousin was my biggest champion always telling me I was going to be in the World Cup. But it all felt not important because HE was GONE.

Basically, my heart was broken.

Life is never going to be the same without him but, I am learning how to move on. It's different. I think about him every single day. But I know deep down he would not want me to dwell. Maybe it seems trivial that I worry about unfinished FanFiction. But, my stories mean something to me and as a writer I can only hope the words I write mean something to someone.

I have started writing again. I found my spark. I hope that once I am ready to continue on I have the wonderful people (you) along for the ride with me.

<3 summerkid

#brittana fanfiction #summerkid #brittana #glee #santana #summerkid12 #santana lopez #when skies are grey #brittany s pierce #we become who we are when we fall in love

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buffynha · 5 months

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Alone With You

By slaves4hemo

*BRITTANA* Santana is infatuated with Rachel's new roommate. She knows Brittany's dangerous, but is she willing to take the chance? Are Brittany's flirtatious ways just apart of her fun-loving personality or could she actually be interested? Set in New York the summer before their sophomore year of college. Lots of glee characters.

Rated: Fiction M

Genre: Romance/Friendship

Pairing: Santana L., Brittany P.

Status: Complete

Chapters: 30

Words: 152,870

Published: Jun 30, 2012

Updated: Nov 12, 2012

#Alone With You #By slaves4hemo #slaves4hemo #brittana #brittana fanfic #santana lopez #brittany s pierce #brittany s. pierce #brittana fanfiction #fanfiction #brittany pierce #fanfic

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melancholydreamers · 3 months

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My amazingly talented friend wrote this equally amazing fanfic!! Part 2 of “My Name is No” Britt’s POV! Please everyone go show it some love, it’s hilariously funny and endearing, it’s like one of those really cute romcoms!! ✨

* it’s called “That Don’t Impress Me Much” for anyone wondering!!

Here is part 1 as well if you haven’t read it already!!

@sohemotional thank you thank you! This is the best birthday gift ever!! 💖💖

#Brittany is so cheeky in this!!#Britt is THAT girl 😍#Brittana #cute awkward Santana #they are so cute #brittana fanfiction #brittany s. pierce #santana lopez #brittany pierce #the most amazing fic ever!!!#thank you thank you!!!! ahhhh #glee fanfiction #my fav Brittana writer 🙈

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autismtana · 14 days

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[CW: homophobia (covert, overt and internalised, including use of slurs), depiction of mental illness (suicidal ideation, anxiety, depression and disordered eating), one instance of body-shaming, mentions of physical violence, purity culture, birtherism]

#glee #glee fanfiction #santana lopez #quinn fabray #mercedes jones #kurt hummel #brittana fanfiction #slow burn #ao3

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brittanagirlcrush · 8 months

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Brittana, 13

Prompt: Kiss me

Bad Days Made Better

A/N: This story is (eventually) going to fit into Dreams Come True (in progress) and occurs after The Only Dream That Matters.

Hope you like it! Thanks for the prompt :)

Also posted on FF.net

Xoxoxoxoxo Santana walked into the apartment and dropped her keys by the bowl on the cabinet by the door, kicked her shoes off, and dropped her jacket on the arm of the couch on the way to the bedroom. It had been a bad day. No. It had been a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day and she was Alexander. A quick glance at her phone notified her of a new text from Britt.

From: The Wifey

Hi honey! We're just finishing up, be home by 7. Love you.

Santana looked at the time and growled. It was only 6:30. Fine. She stripped down and went into the bathroom, turning the water on as hot as she could stand it.

Xoxoxoxoxo

Brittany walked into the apartment and immediately knew something was wrong. The feeling caused her to pause in the doorway and look around the apartment. Santana's keys were by the bowl instead of in it; she dropped her keys in the bowl then picked up and dropped Santana's into it. Santana's shoes were kicked off by the door; nope, Santana never left them by the door because Lord Tubbington thought they made great scratching posts. Santana's jacket was slung on the arm of the couch. Brittany sighed and picked up Santana's shoes, putting them into the cabinet then moving to hang up Santana's jacket along with her own.

Santana was going to be grumpy.

Speak of her angel … Santana wandered out from the hallway and into the kitchen.

"Hi, honey," Brittany tried to sound upbeat, "how was your day? What are you thinking for dinner?"

Santana grunted a hello and continued into the kitchen. She opened the freezer and grabbed a pint of Ben & Jerry's out of it then reached toward the drawer for a spoon.

Brittany took the ice cream from her hand and put it back in the freezer.

"You are not having ice cream for dinner," she chastised softly. She knew her wife and knew exactly what she needed to do.

"I'm a grown ass woman, I can do what I want."

Brittany wrapped her arms around Santana's waist.

"Kiss me."

Santana looked at her. "What?"

"When your wife comes home, it's customary for you to kiss her. So … kiss me."

Santana leaned up and gave Brittany a quick peck then tried to move away from her but Brittany just tightened her hold.

"Kiss your wife, not your great-aunt at Christmas."

Santana huffed out her annoyance but Brittany could feel the stress sloughing off Santana's shoulders as she leaned up again. Brittany met her half-way and their lips slid together, fitting perfectly, as always. Brittany swiped her tongue over Santana's bottom lip and, after a mico-second's hesitation, Santana complied. Their tongues met and danced and lightly dueled until Brittany felt Santana completely melt into her embrace. The kiss was sensual without being sexual; meant to comfort and soothe, not excite. When Santana's arms slid around Brittany's waist, she moved one of her hands from Santana's back and gently cupped Santana's cheek, softly stroking her thumb over Santana's cheekbone.

When they finally separated, Santana leaned into Brittany's shoulder.

"Hi." Santana murmured softly.

"Hi. Bad day?"

"Better now."

"Wanna talk about it?"

Santana hesitated a moment before nodding. "Yeah."

"Dinner?"

"Thai and couch cuddles?"

"Of course." Brittany released her hold on Santana who separated from her a little unwillingly.

"I'll get some wine." Santana moved off to grab a bottle of white wine and a couple of wine glasses while Brittany dialed the Thai place around the corner to place their order.

She smiled softly at her wife as Santana moved toward the couch and paused. She turned back toward Brittany with a small, apologetic smile on her lips and her eyes soft.

"Thank you. For … yanno … and my shoes and coat and stuff."

Brittany's smile widened. "Always."

#brittana #brittana fanfiction #my fic writing #writing prompt

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lopeirce · 9 months

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Brittana + fanfiction typography? -> I'll Teach You To Dance by @monochromeheartbeat

#i'm just playing with photoshop #idk #i just finished a book and i'm feeling that after book sadness #where you reread it like it's the first time #so like fine #i'll reread itytd for the unteenth time #brittana #brittany pierce #santana lopez #santana lopez pierce #brittany lopez pierce #glee #gifs #mine #brittana fanfiction #i'll teach you to dance #monochromeheartbeat

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wheresmynaya · 5 months

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Blame it on the Mistletoe Ch. 3 | Brittana

A/N - Trying something a little different by creating mood boards for each chapter! They're like little hints before you read so they're fun to make, leveling up from playlist making which I have yet to do for this story...

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & under the cut!

It’s Market Day once again and Santana couldn’t be more thrilled. Market Days are her favorite because twice a week, she gets to go out and see what the vendors are pushing rather than just filling out an order. This Market Day is special though because once a month, the vendors put up stalls and it becomes more like a fair than an actual farmers’ market.

And maybe once upon a time, she would’ve loved to share this with Brittany. She knows she would fit in perfectly with this tight-knit community that treats everyone like family, but not anymore.

This is just for her.

Santana always makes a point to visit her favorite vendor first; Miss Maggie, the Pumpkin Queen. The name apparently comes from the title she won a few years back, biggest pumpkin grown on the East Coast, and although she hasn’t won again since – the name stuck. She grows more than pumpkins though, she offers a variety of squash, but her secret weapon is that she used to be a pastry chef. Once a month, she always surprises Santana with her own creation featuring her prized pumpkins. Miss Maggie says it’s just to keep Santana on her toes in case she decides to come out of retirement and go for her job.

“I’m no pastry chef so the job is as good as yours!” Santana would joke in return.

This day is special for another reason though. In the past few days, Santana finally completed the new menu and the last dish that rounds it all out happens to draw inspiration from a galette Miss Maggie once made for her. Today, she gets to tell Miss Maggie that she named that dish after her.

It’s meant to be a joyous occasion, filled with appreciation she often has a hard time giving, but she skids to a stop when she finds Miss Maggie swept up in conversation with someone else. That someone else happens to be pouring over what is undoubtedly a delectable dessert Miss Maggie has cooked up – a dessert that was meant to be for Santana and Santana alone!

Technically, Miss Maggie is big on sharing but still. The last person Santana wants to share her goodies with right now is Brittany!

“Santana! You’ve made it,” Miss Maggie beams as she welcomes Santana to her stall. They exchange pleasantries, but Santana glares at Brittany from over the old woman’s head. “I was just telling Brittany about our little tradition. She’s new to the area. Brittany, this is Santana. She’s the Executive Chef over at the – ”

“We’ve met,” Santana interrupts. She keeps the smile plastered on her face in front of Miss Maggie. She doesn’t know what it is about the woman, but she reminds her of her abuela. The last thing she wants to do is get on her bad side by seeming rude. “We go way back.”

Brittany grins. “It’s true. Santana and I used to – “

“Work together,” Santana says. Brittany gives her a confused look, but Santana ignores it. “Back when I used to live in the city.”

“Really now? What a small world!” Miss Maggie replies. “Who knew you’d both end up out here?”

“I sure didn’t,” Santana quips.

“Well, it was always part of the plan for me.”

Santana scoffs. “What would you know about sticking to a plan?”

“Well if you’d return a phone call or text, maybe I could tell you?”

Miss Maggie then interrupts the bickering with a plate of pie she had set aside for Santana. “Enough of whatever that is, try this. What did you think, Brittany? Five stars?”

“Absolutely! That was delicious,” Brittany compliments. “You’ll love it, Santana.”

Santana forgoes a reply and instead takes a bite to keep from starting another argument with Miss Maggie present. But Brittany’s right, the pie is delicious. So velvety and rich, the crust is delicately flakey and cooked to perfection. It reminds her of why she was so excited to come to Market Day in the first place!

But the moment is kind of ruined with Brittany standing there, awaiting a reaction as if she baked the damn pie herself.

Nevertheless, Santana smiles warmly at the woman. “Miss Maggie, you’ve outdone yourself. This is amazing.”

“Oh good! I’m glad you like it,” Miss Maggie beams before toddling to the back of her stall. “I baked another for you to take back, let me get it. Share with Quinn this time!”

“I won’t make any promises,” Santana calls out to her.

Meanwhile, Brittany frowns. “Who’s Quinn?”

“My new lady lover,” Santana lies. “We’re very serious. Might even open up a restaurant together once we’re done unpacking our Uhauls.”

Brittany’s eyes widen but Miss Maggie ruins the fun by returning with another pie.

“Quinn is Santana’s Sous Chef,” She tells Brittany as she passes it off to Santana. “She’s a sweet girl with pink hair. She actually grew up here, her family owns the lemon orchard.”

Santana didn’t actually know that about Quinn but it totally makes sense now. The girl knows her way around a preserved lemon.

Brittany seems to be intrigued too. “So you’re dating your Sous Chef?”

Miss Maggie is equally surprised. “You’re dating Quinn?”

Of course, that’s the perfect moment for said Sous Chef to return from picking up the turnip order. She stares at the three women with a perplexed look, the produce box weighing heavily in her arms. “Who’s dating me?”

“Apparently Santana.”

“We’re dating?” Quinn asks her. She glances at Brittany and purses her lips. “And you are?”

“I’m – “

“No one,” Santana quickly interrupts. “No one is dating anyone, especially not Quinn.”

“Uh rude. People date me,” Quinn mutters. “You know what, I’m going to put this in the truck.”

“Take your pie too,” Santana grumbles and sets the pie on top of her box.

This is what Santana was worried about; Brittany coming back and inserting herself into this life she’s made without her. She came here today to have a moment with Miss Maggie, but instead she’s doing this!

“So I’m going to go,” Brittany says, possibly getting the point that she has outstayed her welcome. “I have a few things to pick up for service but it was lovely meeting you, Miss Maggie.”

“You too, Brittany! If you need any help finding things, go to that little building with the red roof. Sam will sort it out.”

Brittany thanks her then looks at Santana one last time. “I’ll see you around, San.”

Santana fights the way the old nickname causes her stomach to flip. She even fights the way her fingers twitch to reach out when Brittany brushes past. It’s such an odd feeling; being so overcome with frustration and yet still longing to just shove their differences aside and kiss her.

Love is so weird.

“She’s a sweetheart,” Miss Maggie mentions with a knowing smirk on her face.

“Don’t let the sweetness fool you, she can be such a little shit.”

“What’d she do to get on your bad side? Put too many sprinkles on your ice cream cone?”

“Ugh, I hate sprinkles.” Santana dismisses as she looks over her shoulder, wondering if she can spot Brittany at a nearby stall. She swears she can still hear her voice. No, she’s mad at her and there will be no looking!

“Some sprinkles would probably do you good,” Miss Maggie tells her.

“Well I don’t want any of Brittany’s.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Miss Maggie laughs. “What’s this about you not returning her calls?”

“That’s too long of a story and I’m not here to talk about that.” Santana goes rummaging through her bag for the new menu in hopes of deflecting. “I’ve got something for you.”

At first, Miss Maggie only admires the dishes’ descriptions, pointing out which she can’t wait to try. It’s not until she reaches the very last line that she realizes what makes this menu so unique.

“My galette?”

“Yeah. I thought I’d test my baking skills. Couldn’t be that hard,” Santana jokes. “I’d love for you to come in on opening night. I saved a table just for you.”

“Of course, I’d love to! I’ll put it in my calendar right now,” Miss Maggie tells her happily as she gets her phone. “I’m so honored!”

“I’m pretty sure I nailed it, but I’m open to feedback,” Santana says. “Only if it comes from you.”

Miss Maggie laughs along with Santana before going off to put the menu someplace safe, telling her how she can’t wait to show it off to her husband once she gets home.

“Hey Chef! Turnips are away. Ready to get the rest?” Quinn asks as she returns.

Santana nods and bids her goodbyes to Miss Maggie while Quinn does the same, mentioning she can’t wait to try the pie once they get back to the restaurant. The pair continue moving through the market, shopping for the rest of the produce on the list. They make quick work crossing items off and sampling vendors special offerings as they go.

They’re onto the last two items of their list so they might as well divide and conquer. Quinn heads down to have a look at the heirloom tomatoes while Santana follows up on the carrots – except there seems to be an issue when Santana arrives to see her usual vendor’s display of Dutch rainbow carrots has been wiped clean.

“Hey Santana!” Scott greets from over his shoulder. He’s busy packing away what looks to be the last of his stock. Since when did she have to pre-order? Nevermind, surely something can be arranged for her.

“Hey Scott, busy morning?”

“Surprisingly, yes!” Scott grins when he turns around to face her. “Went through everything I brought.”

“Of course you would. They’re the best, grown by the best too,” Santana flirts. It’s not her best work but it’s Scott. The guy blushes whenever Santana’s around, he just about faints when she makes eye contact.

“Thanks Santana. That really means a lot!” He starts to fidget, growing embarrassingly shy. “This here is the last of the rainbow.”

“So those wouldn’t happen to be for me,” Santana asks, smiling devilishly sweet. “Would they?”

Scott’s smile droops into a frown. “Sorry Santana. These are spoken for already. I have the regular Dutch carrots though?”

“No, that won’t do,” Santana replies. Honestly, she could probably work with it. It’s not ideal since solely orange would throw off the whole plating of the dish. She combs her fingers through her hair in a seemingly panicked way. “That won’t do at all, Scott. Your rainbow carrots are the star of my dish. You sure there’s nothing you can do for me?”

Scott’s gripping the box tightly, looking conflicted as ever. “I mean I could see I could split it? The customer hasn’t paid yet, she just needed to take out some cash.”

“Perfect,” Santana flashes him a pretty smile. “If she hasn’t paid for it then how about I – “

“What do you think you’re doing, Santana?” Santana whips around to find Brittany with her arms crossed. “Those are mine.”

“Uh no, you haven’t paid for them so technically they’re not.”

“Are you joking?” Brittany can’t help but laugh. “I just had to get some cash. I didn’t know no one takes card here.”

“Sounds like a personal problem to me. You should’ve been more prepared.” Santana reaches in her bag and takes out a few bills. “How much do I owe you, Scott?”

“Oh well,” Scott looks awkwardly between the two. “Brittany was sort of here first.”

“And then she left without paying.”

“I have the money now though.”

“I’ve been had the money,” Santana argues. “You never had to wait on me, Scott.”

“Come on, Santana.” Brittany drops her arms to her sides and pouts. “Are you really trying to steal my carrots?”

Once upon a time, that pout rendered Santana helpless. Every. Damn. Time. And honestly, the longer she stares at those blue eyes and how her bottom lip is just slightly jutted out, trembling a little for a dramatic touch…she could cave. Hell, she could pay for the damn carrots herself and gift them to Brittany at this rate!

“No.” Santana squeezes her eyes shut and only opens them again when she’s sure she’s only looking at Scott. “How much did she pay?”

Scott still looks unsure as he rubs the back of his neck. “Well, thirty for the rest of these bunches.”

“I’ll give you forty.”

“Really, Santana?”

“Yup! I’ve got forty dollars right here,” Santana fans herself with the bills. “I didn’t even have to make you wait, Scott.”

“That’s not really how this works,” He says.

“Okay. You drive a hard bargain. I’ll make it forty-five.”

“Santana!” Brittany chastises. “Seriously?”

“Fifty then.”

“Sixty!”

Santana’s eyes widen but Brittany only stands her ground. “You started this.”

“Ladies, please. I can always make a separate delivery later in the week?”

“Sixty-five!”

“Seventy!”

“Eighty!”

“One hun–“

“Chef!” Quinn arrives in the nick of time. She looks between her and Brittany with a puzzled look on her face. “You’re not actually going to blow our budget on this? Scott, let’s talk.”

With Quinn there to mediate, Santana decides she’ll just stick with the regular Dutch carrots and Scott will set aside the rainbow for next delivery. Brittany wins this round, but that’s the only one she’ll be forfeiting!

“We’ll need to establish some ground rules if you’re going to be here,” Santana tells Brittany as they head back to the parking lot with their produce. Quinn walks in the middle of them acting as a barrier, still struggling to catch onto why there seems to be beef between them.

“Like sharing?”

“Like get your own suppliers,” Santana corrects.

“How? We’re in the middle of nowhere. There aren’t many to choose from.”

“Maybe you should leave.”

“You don’t mean that,” Brittany says so softly Santana almost didn’t hear it. When she suddenly stops walking, so does Santana and Quinn but Brittany looks at Quinn with uncertainty. “Do you mind?”

“Anything you have to say to me, you can say to her.”

“So you are dating then?”

“No!” Santana and Quinn say in unison.

“Awesome, then could we have some privacy, Quinn?” Brittany asks politely although Santana knows her patience is running thin. “Please.”

Quinn doesn’t move though, just shifts her calculated gaze between the two until something seems to click and a knowing grin starts to spread. “Yeah, okay. I’ll load this into the truck.”

Santana waits until Quinn’s in the truck before she attempts addressing this mess, but Brittany beats her to it.

“Santana…” Brittany says her name tiredly. “I’m not going anywhere so we’re going to have to come to an agreement or something. You know we’ll have to share vendors and I don’t want to make things hard for us.”

Santana can’t help but laugh at the irony. “Really now?”

“Yes, really. So maybe you can finally take me up on my dinner offer and we can talk about it?”

“I’m not talking with you about this over dinner. This is business, you need to schedule a meeting.”

“Okay. When are you free?”

“Never.”

“Never?”

“I’m a very busy woman. Who knows when I’ll have a free day.”

“Okay. So you’re too mad at me to have dinner and now you’re too busy for me to discuss business?” Brittany recounts, “Sounds like you’re avoiding me and that’s not fair.”

Santana arches her brow at that. “Fair? What isn’t fair is that you popped up out of the blue, opened a restaurant down the road from me and you expect me to be okay with it! Britt, you did this.”

“I know that which is why I’m trying to fix it but you aren’t letting me because you love a grudge.”

“I do not.”

“You so do. All of this would’ve been cleared up weeks ago if you didn’t,” Brittany tells her.

Santana huffs as she crosses her arms protectively over her chest. She doesn’t hold grudges. She learns from the lessons life teaches her and she adapts so she never gets fucked over again. That’s not a grudge.

Brittany watches her for a moment, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You’re still cute when you’re grumpy though so I will keep trying.”

Santana grits her teeth hard to keep from reacting to Brittany’s little comment. She doesn’t need that reassurance; she knows she’s a catch but it’s Brittany at the end of the day and she’ll always have a soft spot for her.

Which is exactly why she needs to go.

“I’ll see you around,” She says over her shoulder as she beelines it for the truck. She doesn’t chance looking back, she knows it’ll just make her want to stay.

Quinn badgers her with questions the entire ride back to the restaurant, thankfully it’s a short drive. Most of it was Quinn replaying the moment she realized who Brittany was while Santana drove in silence anyway.

“Oh good, you’re back!” Rachel says just as she and Quinn return to the kitchen. “We need to talk.”

“Again?” Santana groans. “Can it wait? I’m a little over talking to people I don’t want to.”

“It definitely cannot wait, Santana.” Rachel tells her gravely. “Please join Kurt and I in our office for a little…business discussion.”

Santana lets out an exasperated sigh but does as she is told. After her run in with them about her disruptive music choices, she’d rather not dig herself into a deeper hole. When she enters the office, she finds Kurt waiting while Rachel moves around the desk to sit next to him.

“Please have a seat, Santana.”

Okay, now she’s starting to feel a little uneasy. The sudden professionalism is so off-putting coming from those two, but she takes a seat in front of them and holds her head high.

“What’s this about?” She asks.

“There are rumors circulating and we thought we would go straight to you before entertaining them,” Rachel says seriously.

Santana frowns. “What kind of rumors?”

“Well – “

“Did you start a bidding war at the market?” Kurt asks, going right to the point.

“Oh.” Santana’s oddly relieved but unsure how news traveled so fast. “I don’t know if you would call that a bidding war but yes – I did try to pay a higher price than someone else in order to secure stock that I need to ensure your business keeps on running.”

Rachel facepalms while Kurt only shakes his head.

“What?” Santana asks, “I don’t see a problem.”

“That’s not how things are done here,” Rachel explains. “This is a small town, we’re all about community, togetherness…sharing.”

“Oh please, this is a cutthroat industry.”

“Santana, we’re serious,” Kurt tells her. “Scott was really shaken up by the whole ordeal.”

“So this is Scott’s fault?” Santana asks. “I should’ve known he was a snitch.”

“He’s a concerned citizen,” Rachel insists. “And rightly so considering what happened.”

“What exactly has he said because you’re making it sound like I got into a brawl? I went out there looking for the best stuff, built relationships, networked – all the things that I need to do in order for things to run smoothly here. But when I offer a little extra money because the vendor didn’t come prepared for the extra business, you guys get mad about it?” Santana asks, “Make it make sense to me.”

“It’s not about the money. It’s the way you went about it. We just need you respect the way things are done here, just like you always have,” Kurt says.

“Right. You can’t march on in there and act crazy like that,” Rachel replies. “They’re just carrots!”

“They’re not just carrots. I created the entire dish to highlight those carrots because I’ve spent months listening to Scott go on and on about how this is his best crop yet. I wanted to honor that, that’s what this whole menu is about! I’m supposed to just let someone take them all because what? It’s the neighborly thing to do?” Santana shakes her head. “Nope, screw that. She should’ve ordered in advance or something because those carrots were mine.”

“The extra business is great for the community especially during the holidays,” Rachel says. “These are tough times. We have to support our locals by any means necessary, but that also means spreading a little Christmas cheer while we do it.”

“You don’t even celebrate Christmas.”

“And yet, I know more about it than you do,” Rachel retorts. “We’ll see more tourists coming out this way because of that and because of the recent award. Now, promise us you’ll be welcoming and pleasant to the newcomers.”

“I’m always pleasant,” Santana grumbles.

“Usually you are but you’ve been off your game for weeks,” Kurt replies. “Whatever it is, work it out. The only things we want to hear about you are how amazing the new menu is.”

“Well I don’t know about that now since I’m out of carrots…”

“Santana.”

Santana lets out one last huff before pasting on a smile. “I’ll be as nice as I can be.”

The following week, Santana arrives to Market Day bright and early as she usually does. She’s alone this time, Quinn choosing to hang back in order to organize the walk-in. Really, Santana thinks it’s an excuse to avoid getting caught in the middle of another spat. Not that there will be one this time because Santana’s being…nice.

At least, she’s trying to be.

The universe decides to test that theory when she crosses paths with Brittany again about halfway through her shopping. She looks a little less chipper than the last time she saw her, but she perks up the instant she spots Santana looking her way.

“Hi!” Brittany greets happily. “Cold one this morning, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I don’t remember winters being like this in the city,” Santana replies. She notes Brittany’s knit beanie and smiles. “I can’t believe you still have that.”

“What do you mean? It’s my favorite,” Brittany says. “Well, all the things your abuela knitted for me are my favorite. It’s so warm!”

Santana nods. She tries to avoid walking down memory lane, remembering how her abuela was so excited to meet Brittany and how they spent hours bonding over telenovelas. It’s tough remembering how well Brittany fit into her life back then. It was as if there was a spot for her there all along.

“You okay?” Brittany asks. “I’m almost done here so there’s no need to get grumpy. I’ve left you lots of carrots this time.”

“Thank you,” Santana replies. “I guess it’s important that we work together.”

“We don’t really have a choice but to work something out,” Brittany shrugs. “You know I can’t go anywhere else. We’ll have to share.”

“I know, so I suggest a compromise.”

“Oh,” Brittany looks taken aback. “I was anticipating some pushback.”

“I’m trying something different,” Santana explains. “I’m trying to be nice.”

“Because Santa’s coming to town?”

“Because it’s Christmas,” Santana corrects her. “And because my bosses said I have to.”

Brittany laughs. “Okay. What’s this compromise?”

“We can share vendors and what not,” Santana replies. “But I get first pick.”

Brittany ponders that for a moment before nodding. “I can work with that.”

“That means no sneaky dealings behind each other’s backs. No more bidding wars. When it comes to Market Days, I’ll go first and you go after me.”

“Deal.” Brittany juts out her gloved hand. Santana takes her offered hand and they shake on it, but Brittany hangs on just a little longer. “So does you being nice mean you’re open to having dinner with me?”

Santana shakes her head although she feels a smile forming on her lips. “It’s probably best we keep this strictly business for now. I haven’t even begun to unpack what you being back means for us.”

“We could always unpack that together?”

“I need to get started on this list,” Santana says instead.

“Totally. I’ve got to get this stuff back to the restaurant anyway,” Brittany replies. For once, she actually looks a little dejected. “I’ll see you when I see you.”

And for once, Santana actually feels guilty for brushing her off again.

The next time Santana attends Market Day, it’s at the crack of dawn. She regrets declining Quinn’s offer to attend in her place now that she’s shivering to death in the frigid cold. To make matters worse, she has apparently arrived earlier than the vendor she’s waiting to see.

Everything’s achingly numb. The tip of her nose is probably frostbitten. She wiggles her toes to generate some type of warmth but she can’t even tell if they’re moving. Her thick jacket seems to be doing nothing to help fight off the winter chill.

But then, she spots Brittany and suddenly it doesn’t seem so cold.

“We made one rule and you’re already breaking it,” Santana says as Brittany come to stand beside her. She is holding two Christmasy themed takeaway cups and Santana remembers what she has forgotten.

“I’m not breaking it. You still get first pick,” Brittany chuckles. “I’m here to keep you warm.”

Santana lets out a laugh. “I don’t need you for that.”

“Well, I’m here to keep you company.”

“I don’t need you for that either.”

“Come on, San.” Brittany grins as she passes her one of the cups. “Humor me.”

Santana sighs as she takes the cup. “Only because I’m too cold to think straight.”

“I’ll take it!”

She doesn’t protest when Brittany loops an arm through hers and huddles in close. Santana keeps her hands wrapped around the cup, she can smell the rich chocolatey goodness and takes a sip. With Brittany on her arm and a hot chocolate in her hands, she’s unsure which does a better job of warming her up.

#blame it on the mistletoe #brittana #santana lopez #fanfics #brittany s pierce #brittana fanfiction #biotm #chef brittana au

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sohemotional · 1 year

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My Brittana/Glee Fics - Masterlist

Ongoing/Incomplete Fics

Leo and Aquarius

"Brittany and Santana are like the North Star; you're always going back to each other." - Naya Rivera

A collection of Brittana-themed one shots, some canon compliant-ish, some in AUs, showing Santana and Brittany’s love for each other in every universe.

Read on AO3

Read on FF.Net

The Best Thing That's Ever Been Mine

After her breakup with Brittany, Santana is lonely and struggling to cope with life in the big city. The last thing Santana expects is for Brittany to show up at her door and tell her she’s pregnant with their baby.

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Snow Angel

Santana and her little sister Rachel are rich, spoiled college girls who go to a ski resort during their winter vacation. The siblings aren’t all that athletic but Santana is determined to show off her skills and fails spectacularly. Meeting flirty, super hot ski instructor Brittany makes everything a lot better for her. (Discontinued/On Hiatus)

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A Walking Study In Demonology

Years after the tragic death of their father, Santana asks Rachel to join her on a mission to save their missing mother before it’s too late. Despite being from a family of hunters, Santana can’t seem to resist the allure of a seductive blonde, blue-eyed enchantress called Brittany along the way. Inspired by Supernatural.

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Wildfire

Santana, a firebender and the Crown Princess of the Fire Nation falls in love with ditzy, eccentric airbender Brittany of all people, much to the surprise of the nation. Brittana ATLA AU

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My Love’s Like The Warmth of the Sun (One Shot Anthology)

Part I: Brittany gets a terrible sunburn during a Glee Club field trip to the beach and it's up to Santana to take care of her. Back in their hotel room, the two can't seem to keep their hands off of each other anyway. A collection of summer-themed Brittana one-shots.

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Completed Fics

My Name Is No (You Need to Let It Go)

Santana is an egotistical celebrity who instantly falls head over heels in love with Brittany and tries anything to get her attention but the coy blonde keeps playing hard to get. Can she make Brittany fall for her too?

Read on AO3

That Don't Impress Me Much

Read on AO3

The Ghost in You

Brittany begins flirting with a lonely, mischievous ghost she meets through her Ouija board. Brittana AU Halloween Fic

Read full version on AO3 Read on Tumblr

Are You My Other Mom?/Single Mom!Brittany AU

Brittany’s a single mom with a six year old son who can’t stand any of his mommy’s boyfriends and girlfriends. Now that she’s dating “mommy stealing” Santana, he’s determined to drive her away but Santana has other ideas.

Read on Tumblr

Read on AO3 Read on FF.Net

Tell Her About It

A confused and heartbroken teenaged Santana gets love life advice from an unlikely source on Valentine's Day. Pre-Season 1 Brittana

Read on AO3

My Future Wife

After being dumped by her boyfriend, Brittany, a naïve and innocent girl from the 1980s with a secret time machine in her garage embarks on a quest to find her perfect husband or wife from the future. In modern times, she meets a cynical Santana Lopez who comes from the wrong side of the tracks and doesn't believe true love exists.

Can these two opposites attract? A.k.a. the Glee Meets “Blast From The Past” AU that absolutely no one asked for.

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Grumpy Cat

Brittany is a waitress at an old-fashioned diner and Santana is the grouchiest guest they’ve ever had. Even though everyone warns her away from the bad-tempered woman, the blonde is determined to make Santana smile, if it’s the last thing she does.

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Breaking Girl Code (Two Shot)

Girl Code Rule #1: Don’t fall for your best friend’s sibling. Too bad Brittany has already broken it.

Rachel and Santana are sisters but they couldn’t be more opposite in personality. Much to the preppy good girl’s confusion, Rachel’s cheerleader best friend Brittany has a huge crush on the brunette’s badass older sister and will stop at nothing to get her attention.

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5 Times Santana and Brittany Didn’t Have a Baby (And One Time They Actually Did) (Two Shot)

Ever since they were six, Brittany has always been planning their future babies but Santana isn’t entirely sure she’s ready to be a mom. Maybe she can be convinced otherwise…

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Put A Ring On It (One Shot, Canon Divergence)

What would happen if Santana had been honest about still having deep feelings for Brittany when the blonde moved on to a new boyfriend? A jealous Santana confronts Brittany and tells her how she really feels after her duel with Sam in the auditorium. An alternative take on 4x13 Diva.

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I Won’t Say I’m In Love (One Shot)

Santana refuses to ever admit she has feelings for Brittany... yet when the bubbly blonde goes on a date with someone else, Santana can't resist following her to "scope out" the competition and makes a total fool of herself when Brittany catches her.

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I’m Just The Villain (One Shot)

After Santana storms out when Rachel and the rest of the New Directions insult her, Brittany is the only one who goes to her. Santana is desperate to know if the girl hates her as much as everyone else seems to. Set during Silly Love Songs.

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Firestarter (Two Shot)

Santana has two secrets that no one in the world can find out about. One is the fact that she’s head over heels in love with her best friend. The other is that she has the superhuman ability to create fire from thin air.

Exposure to a strange, red meteor rock gives Santana the ability to create fire and now it’s threatening to burn her up from the inside out unless she admits her true feelings for Brittany.

Read on AO3 Read on FF.Net (Part II of Kryptonite Verse)

Your Eyes Are Like Starlight Now (One Shot)

Brittany thinks they should go to the Glee Club's Christmas Eve party but grumpy Santana just wants to do Christmas in bed with her girlfriend instead. When Santana turns up the charm, the coy blonde can't resist her lover's seductive side.

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Be Your Teenage Dream Tonight (One Shot)

Brittany and Santana decide to do a duet together after all but on Santana’s terms with the song "Teenage Dream." Their performance doesn't go the way Santana expects. Set during Glee 2x04 Duets.

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Make Love, Not War (Two Shot, AU)

A scandal ensues on Mount Olympus when the least loved deity, Santana, goddess of war, is caught in flagrante delicto with Brittany the goddess of love, who’s married to Artie, god of blacksmiths. Brittana Greek Mythology AU

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The Kissing Disease (One Shot)

When Santana gets the flu, it's up to Brittany to play nurse and make sure she gets better. A sick Santana is a force to be reckoned with but the last thing the blonde girl expects is for her best friend to start confessing her secret love for her in her feverish state. Season 1 Era Brittana

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When A Black Cat Crosses Your Path (One Shot, AU)

Tina puts a hex on Santana and turns her into a cat. The only way to undo the spell and return to her human body is to find someone who loves her and love them in return before the full moon...but who could ever love the aggressive, beastly Santana?

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Supermom

Santana and her babies all come down with a cold at the same time and caring for sick, whiny Lopezes is no easy feat. Supermom Brittany to the rescue!

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Making Out in 7-Eleven (One Shot AU)

Santana has always had a huge crush on her childhood friend's older sister, Brittany but is too shy to admit it. A trip to the local convenience store somehow changes everything. Brittana AU

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Other Glee Fics/Other Ships

Nice Guys Finish First

Golden boy quarterback Finn just wants to run with the popular crowd and that means pulling pranks on Rachel Berry with his friends shouldn’t bother him, right? Except despite what everyone tells him, Finn can’t help but feel guilty. Getting stuck alone with a half naked Rachel Berry in the girls' locker room while trying to rescue her from a humiliating prank wasn’t part of his plan. Pre-Season 1 Finchel AU AO3 Link

Sweet Tooth

Finn is a pastry chef at Carole's Cupcakes who's just trying to make it through the Christmas season while Rachel is a Broadway star playing the lead role in Funny Girl. The two seem to have opposite lives but after an unexpected encounter at the cupcake shop, they discover that they have more in common than you'd think. Finchel AU AO3 Link

I’ll Keep You By My Side (With My Superhuman Might)

Rachel has a habit of getting herself into trouble... good thing her amber-eyed hero is always there to save her in the nick of time.

Years after his falling out with Lex and Lana, Clark is now a happy family man. When Clark and Lois' superpowered teenage son Finn gets close to Lex and Lana's sheltered daughter Rachel, their feuding parents want to keep the two apart. Finchel AU AO3 Link (Part I of Kryptonite Verse)

#my fics #masterlist #brittana #Brittana fanfiction #Glee fanfiction #santana lopez #brittany s. pierce #glee

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words-of-mo · 2 months

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#Glee #Brittana #fanfiction - Chapter 59 of “Tell our story” is finally online! "Brittany struggles to process Santana's unexpected request."

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enchantedsapphiccreations · 1 month

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my ao3 <3

#brittana #ao3 fanfic #glee fanfiction #brittana fanfiction

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buffynha · 7 months

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Blue Creek Lodge

By slaves4hemo

Santana Lopez isn't exactly thrilled to be spending her winter break alone with her Dad in a ski lodge without internet or cell phone reception. The sight of a certain blonde might change her mind, but is she already taken? Santana will have to pull out all the tricks to get her girl. *Brittana winter fic*

Rated: Fiction M

Genre: Romance/Humor

Pairing: Santana L., Brittany P.

Status: Complete

Chapters: 28

Words: 133,386

Published: Dec 1, 2012

Updated: Mar 20, 2013

#Blue Creek Lodge #By slaves4hemo #slaves4hemo #brittana #brittana fanfic #santana lopez #brittany s pierce #fanfic #brittany s. pierce #brittana fanfiction #glee #poster by ohvalerievalerie

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yeastymuffin · 1 month

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It is well into thursday afternoon, the curse of living in Europe i guess, but I'll still post something for the wip wednesday. Thanks for tagging me @paperstomach!! :D

I don't know which one of my mutuals are working on stuff, so if you see this, feel free to share your wips (even if it isn't wednesday) and tag me in it if you want some feedback or just a fun comment ^-^

I have two things I am working on at the moment (three if you include my thesis 🤐) so I'll post both. One being a sapphic Victorian-esque ghost story about a haunted hotel near the beach. The second being my recently revived medieval Brittana fic inspired by this piece of art by @katimanki

At the bottom, below the 'read more' link, is the first chapter of the Brittana fic. It's like 5k words so enjoy! (@unholy-fabray you seemed interested so I'm posting this for u <3)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Premise: Addie and Dolly are riding horseback on the beach. This is the first time they are being honest to eachother about what they are dealing with (Addie being mentally unwell, and Dolly caring deeply for her)

Addie shared a look of deep earnest. A heaviness settled upon hers shoulders. The weight of which her companion shared, for she halted her steed, letting the silence beg for Addie to answer the unspoken question.

“I want to be emaciated.” She said at last. “To feel the same kind of instinctual hunger the gulls feel as a need to drive them up into the sky. That way, and that way alone, could I explain why I feel the way I feel.”

A breath of silence fell between them. The gulls sailed low today, feeding on what tiny creatures hid beneath the surface of the sand. Dolly watched the birds with a naïve kind of curiosity as they spread their wings to glide up each time a wave got to shore with the intent to wipe away all that was before – the rhythm of which never seemed to tire.

“Well then, it must be so.” She spoke. Her face contorted in a stern frown. “But only long enough for you to explain it to me. Then, afterwards, when you sink away in the despair you cried out, let me raise your chin and fill you with love. Let me fill you till it comes out of your nose, and I will wipe away the snot, and hold you, and tell you all can be well. If only you let yourself feel it.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

AAAAAND THE GLEE FIC:

Long Live: chapter one

Throughout the evening the regular folk enters the taverns until a lively buzz of songs sung by drunk rumbles through the streets. Every so often, when a drunkard is kicked out for becoming too rowdy, a passerby would be able to distinctly make out the lyrics of the drinking song as the words roll of tens of stumbling tongues. Where each tavern poured their own ale, so were the songs and festive hymns hand crafted and specific to the place.

The Vulgar Elderberry, known by locals as the most disorderly and unrestrained pub of the city, where middle-aged men go to pick fights and prostitutes make a humble fortune, is as busy as usual. At every hour of the day there is a group of drunk men, but as soon as the sun goes down the benches and stools fill till the early morning sun peeks over the horizon.

Santana, who might as well be wearing Hans Christian Andersen’s red dancing shoes, is having a blast. With only a bat of her eyes a new drink finds its way to her hand. Men are at her feet with every sway of her hips or twirl of the skirt. And they are at her feet in the literal sense since she is up on her third table of the night. Drunkards are watching her from below, tongues nearly rolling out of their mouth and on the sticky surface of the table which has seen the spillage of many a beer.

On the table next to her is a blonde girl she has seen a couple times before. She does not know her name but somehow they always end up at the same tavern and decide to entertain the guests together. Though it is clear the girl does this on a regular basis, dancing into the early hours of the day, Santana thinks she is decently able to keep up in her drunken haze.

The regular bard is strumming away on a lyre, his beautiful song drowned out by the intoxicated attempts of the patrons singing along. Santana has reached the point where the loud chants do not sound loud anymore and the world is engulfed in a blanket of bliss. Yes, this means she sometimes misses a beat or nearly hits one of the guys who is sitting at her table in the face when she kicks her leg up, but hey, she is at the Elderberry. Any visitor is bound to come home with multiple bruises.

At a dark corner of the bar she sees someone dressed in a dark cloak and a blue tunic. The guest has had two mugs of beer at most and has been looking at her intensely all night. Santana, being a glutton for attention and praise, dances harder for every guy staring at her but tonight she has been dancing for this visitor and this visitor alone. Sharp eyes ogle her from under the hood, face inexpressive no matter how suggestive her dancing gets.

If anyone is sober enough to pay attention to the relatively tall visitor in blue, they would notice how out of place the person is. Not only does the person look too old to still be dressed as a squire, the light blue fabric of the tunic is too expensive for any commoner to wear to a pub like this. A night without a fight is rare, and though people like to show off their riches and power in any social setting, the average response to vanity in the Vulgar Elderberry is a punch to the throat. To wear a light blue dyed linen tunic is asking for trouble.

Santana’s eye fucking gets interrupted when she feels a slosh of beer hit her feet. Still dancing, she looks down at the two guys who just toasted too zealous for the state of their motor control. Their spilled toast is all over the table. She shouts a string of curse words at them and not so subtly stomps in the pool of beer, trying to splash them back.

Too drunk or turned on – or both – to care, the men wipe the drops of beer from their face and out of their beards. Two pairs of lust filled eyes look at her, not registering the thundercloud that is forming above Santana’s head. The bald one barks at her like a dog, which encourages another fellow at her table to howl at her. All night, men have whistled and jeered at her but now most guests are unable to remember how much they had to drink. The last bit of Santana’s rationale takes over. Too much exhilaration will lead to men grabbing her for a dance and trying to suck her tongue out of her mouth, which is the last thing she wants.

Helplessly, she looks over at her blonde friend as she twirls, which may not be the best thing to do as she is certain she would trip if asked to walk in a straight line. Still, Santana never said her rationale was logical or the most efficient. After a couple twirls, she finally meets the eyes of her friend who frowns at her, asking what is wrong. Santana nods to her feet where one of the men is trying to grab at her dress to smell it. The girl nods, having understood the cry for help, then looks at her own crowd of drunk men and smiles teasingly.

“Me and my friend here are kind of getting bored.” The girl shouts. Santana is barely able to make out what is trying to say despite their close proximity. The men at her feet perk up, ready to serve this nymph anything as long as it gets her to keep dancing for them.

One guy jumps up on the bench and props one of his feet on the table. He extends an arm and reaches out for the girl. She places her hand in his outstretched hand. He grabs it tenderly and kisses it. Despite the softness of the kiss, which feels out of place seeing the tavern they are in, it is the lewdest thing Santana has seen all evening. She gawks at the sight. There might as well have been two people going at it doggy style on the table next to her.

“Two ale for these lovely broads who have been entertaining us all evening.” The guy screams at the bar.

“It’s on the house!” the bartender yells back as he puts two large mugs on the dark oak surface of the bar. An ocean of hands reaches out to bring the mugs to their destination.

A hand grabs Santana’s lower arm. Ready to fight off a man who cannot keep his hands to himself, Santana spins around to face her assailant, fist in the air ready to punch a bloody nose. To her surprise, it is the girl. She is leaning dangerously far forward and beckons for Santana to join her on her table. Assisted by a steady tug, she jumps over to the table. Delighted when her shoes do not stick to the table top, a luxury her old table did not have.

The girl does not let go of her. Repositioning her hand instead and intertwines their fingers together, her other hand finds Santana’s waist. The blonde turns her head and screams something at the bard. Santana is too drunk to hear it, overwhelmed by the sudden close proximity and the intense brown eyes the girl has.

“Dance with me.” She says. And Santana does.

Never before has she danced a peasant partner dance. After a minute of stepping on toes and legs tangling in skirts, she understands the rhythm of the dance. She smiles brightly at her partner when she figures it out. The girl grins back, all shiny teeth and pink lips.

Beneath her, the men’s clapping slowly increases. Santana dances like it is the only thing she has ever done in her life. Her body moves on its own, keeping up with the pace that grows faster by the second.

They hop and twirl and shimmy. Without looking away from the girl, Santana knows her whirling her red dress and the orange dress of her partner creates for an impressive sight. Two flames growing brighter and brighter in an endless waltz until they burn up together.

They dance on and on. The muscles in her legs are screaming at her to stop, but Santana cannot help it. If this is where she dies, dancing on a table in a disgustingly dirty tavern, so be it. May the heavens find her exhausted soul and realise that for once she enjoyed what she was doing with every fibre of her being.

One of the gods must have heard her death wish, as in the next second one of Santana’s feet slips off the table and she nearly tumbles into the lap of a sweaty, overweight guy. The only thing keeping her on her podium is the blonde girl who instantly drags her back on her feet.

The delirium of her aching body is taking over, or perhaps she is a lot more drunk than she thought she was. An all-consuming laughter bubbles up from her stomach and leaves her body. She looks like a maniac, but she cannot find the energy to care. There is no one here able to scold her for her unruly behaviour. The chest pressed against hers starts moving in shocks. The girl, too, is laughing hysterically.

She needs a full minute to get her laughter under control. Suddenly, as the last hiccups of her giggle die down, she realises she is still clinging to the girl who is sweaty and hot under her grip. A droplet of sweat rolls down the girl’s neck and pools behind her collarbone. Aware of the heaving chest pressed against hers, and the inappropriate intimacy Santana lets go. Albeit hesitantly.

The girl smiles at her, bright eyed, then turns to the men at their feet. “Where are those beers? I feel hot!” She knows exactly how to play a crowd.

“Yes you are!” A guy screams from a couple tables over.

A large mug filled to the brim is pressed in Santana’s hand by the girl. Her head is spinning. If she drinks this and keeps on dancing, she will sleep in the gutter tonight. Having sweat off half of her body weight, Santana takes a big gulp of her beer. She cringes when the lukewarm liquid fills her mouth, having expected the beer to be cold.

“Chug! Chug! Chug!” A guy with a sophisticated moustache chants. He must be a notary of some sorts during the day.

The blonde nudges Santana with her hip and lifts her mug suggestively. Not really caring much for her future self, Santana lifts her own mug with a devilish grin. They toast clumsily, spilling a fair amount as the mugs hit and start chugging.

From across the room, Santana makes eye contact with the peculiar visitor as she chugs her beer. Wanton from dancing, Santana decides to do something she has never done before. With her free hand, she undoes two buttons of her dress, showing off her cleavage. Nearly finished with her beer, she pulls the mug away from her mouth ‘accidentally’ spilling the remainder which drips down her chin and disappears between her breasts.

The cheers of the crowd beneath her leave her cold. Still, Santana bites away her smugness. She caught the visitor biting her lip and fumbling with the belt, hands restless from seeing Santana act all licentious. The victorious smile on her face is hard to supress so she turns to her still nameless friend and focuses her attention on her.

Her heart is running in circles behind her ribcage and kicking up a storm. A heat is growing from deep within and burns her up from the inside. It is dizzying. Santana feels like she can puke at any moment.

The girl says something.

“What?” Santana asks confused.

“It’s Quinn.” The girl repeats. Santana blinks. She does not remember asking the girl for her name, but she must have. Whilst she struggled to keep the content in her stomach inside, her body must have taken over and made small talk. Like when her mind goes away to that special place where she can run away on the back of a horse and ride into the sunset, while her body is talking about the current affairs of the kingdom with some stuck up duke.

“Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?” Quinn asks. Her eyes warm with worry. Santana wishes she can take her home. Quinn seems like a person you can be truly honest with, who would not judge you for the demons in your head.

Santana shakes her thoughts away. She forces herself to take a couple deep breaths. “Yeah, I’m good. The dancing wore me out.” She says. “I’m San- Rosario. Rosario San Cruz I think we’ve met before.”

“Quinn Fabray.” Quinn grabs her hand and spins her around. The soft fabric of Santana’s red dress undulates in graceful waves as she twirls. “We have. I remember because I never had a dance partner that’s able to keep up with me the way you do.”

“Why thank you.” Santana says demure, instinctively bowing elegantly as she takes the compliment. As Santana comes back up she bites her tongue to keep from smiling too hard. Though it’s too late. This Quinn girl has already brought out her cheek dimples. Santana hates them. She is usually pretty good at showing off a certain emotion when really she is feeling something else, but when her cheek dimples show, everyone can see she is truly happy in and out. Information which she prefers not to give away.

Quinn takes Santana’s mug with one hand and holds her other hand up invitingly. “May I have another dance with you, Rosario?” She says with an accent mocking the highbrow and royals.

“But of course you may.” Santana grabs the hand, responding in the same accent.

Quinn regards her, then pecks a kiss to each of the mugs and throws them behind her without looking, like a bride throwing her bouquet. Men dive after the mugs, deeming them worth more than jewellery. Not even a peregrine falcon diving after its prey is as fast.

The bard is playing a joyful song, Quinn sings along softly as she leads Santana. Santana cannot fully commit to the dance however, she keeps one eye on the men fighting over the mug - not trusting it will simply blow over. The tension she had tried escaping by going here has returned. The tiny demon running around in her skull is pulling on all the strings, creating doom scenarios of what could happen. Ranging from a simple barfight to a dragon ripping the roof of the tavern and burning them all alive.

“Stop thinking.” Quinn points out sharply. “This is the third time you’ve stepped on my foot and your eyes keep darting to the side. I know for a fact you’re not distracted by a handsome knight.”

Santana frowns at what Quinn might be implying. “What? I totally like knights.”

“Yeah, who doesn’t?” Quinn lets go of her for a second to do her own little freestyle whilst she stares at the guy whose hand she kissed earlier. “But I don’t see them here. Just enjoy the moment. Worries are for tomorrow.”

Quinn’s hands find her body again and she leads them into a high tempo waltz. Santana gets twirled around again, seemingly Quinn’s favourite move, and lets her thoughts fly away from her as she spins around.

In anticipation of the dip Quinn leads her into she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. Arms stretched out dramatically, she fully trusts the hands around her waist to not drop her. Her long, dark hair nearly brushes the table top. Her flair for the dramatics is appreciated as whistles and shouts fill the air, shortly drowning out the music.

Then she is pulled back up, rougher than she expected. A yelp escapes her mouth as she crashes into Quinn. Instinctively, her feet position themselves so she is ready to waltz away but the lead does not come. Quinn is looking at something behind her then hisses in her ear. “Duck.”

Before Santana can ask what is going on, firm hands grab her shoulders and she is pushed downwards. With a thud she falls on her ass on the table top. Tears jump in her eyes at the sharp pain that shoots up her spine. Her skin will be bruised for a week. One foot is in the lap of a passed out drunk guy. Carefully, she tries to remove her foot and crawl of the table. A heavy body crashes into her and nimbly slides off the table.

“There is no time to be nice.” Quinn chides. Rudely, she drags Santana to her feet and checks her over. By then, Santana realises the side of the table they are on is empty, aside for the passed out guy. The gears in her head are turning as she looks around. People are chanting, not the regular songs, but cheering and howling. Instead of the low notes of a mostly male choir, deep aggravated grunts fill the air.

The chanting, together with the groups forming between the tables click in Santana’s head. There are fights happening. Multiple.

“I knew the mugs were going to cause trouble.” Santana says to no one in particular as she looks at the fight at the opposite side of the table. A shoe flies through the air and hits a guy who had previously nursed his beer unbothered. Agitated from the beer that spilled all over his tunic he grabs the shoe and throws it back, hitting a different bystander in the face. The bystander makes a face that can only be described as an toad blown up with anger, and stalks towards the guy with heavy steps, nearly stumbling over a nearby bench.

“Good for you genius. We have to go.” Quinn snipes. Her hand locks around Santana’s forearm. With difficulty, Santana keeps up with the swift pace with which Quinn moves through the maze of tables and drunk, fighting barbarians. The closer they get to the exit, the rowdier things become.

The tavern has been filled to the brim the whole evening. Multiple fights are breaking out and escalating. In the chaos of fallen benches, mugs flying through the air and people being pushed over or stumbling away in a drunken stupor, it is hard for two women to fight their way through the crowd. Quinn pushes herself in the slowly moving stream of exiting people, attempting to pull Santana with her.

“Wait!” Santana shouts at Quinn. “I’m missing someone.”

“Forget it.” Quinn shouts back over her shoulder. “We need to leave now or a guy unruly from fighting thinks he needs a victory prize.”

Santana looks back but her vision gets blocked by two tall guys behind her, seemingly brothers. All around her are sweaty bodies. The air smells of barf and wet, dirty clothes. Her arms are pressed to her body. If people are not careful she will be crushed like grain in a mill. The only thing that is keeping her from fully panicking is the death grip Quinn has on her.

All of a sudden the pushing from behind stops, but before she can look behind her to see what happened, a strong arm wraps around her waist. She is yanked out of Quinn’s grip and dragged backwards. She screams in surprise, then a second animalistic scream leaves her throat fuelled by pure anxiety.

Quinn was right. A burly guy who has had too much to drink thinks he owns the world and anyone in it. In order to truly feel like the king he is, he needs his little princess to entertain him. And he has decided Santana will be that princess.

Her whole body stiffens. She is a drawn bow ready to let go. This is yet another guy who thinks she is only good for one thing. His audacity is as big as a dragon and his regard for the thoughts and feelings of others is as true as the existence of gnomes – just a fable. He is a dirty pig, just like the rest of the scum that fills this tavern each night. In a blind fit of rage, she turns around and punches the guy square in the face. Then adds another punch at the nose, for good measure.

Instantaneously, the person lets go of her and grabs at their face. Then throws the hood they are wearing off their face. Two angry and confused blue eyes stare back at her.

“Santana, what the hell?”

“Oh my god Britt I’m so sorry.” Shocked, Santana clasps two hands over her mouth.

Brittany, her self-acclaimed bodyguard and partner in crime, is standing in front of her. Blood seeps from her nose and between her fingers down her chin, dripping on her sky blue tunic. It will suck to wash the blood out later.

“What did I tell you? If something happens. You find me and we take the back exit.” Brittany’s tone is razor sharp despite her the slightly nasal tone from pinching her nose. It cuts through Santana’s heartstrings. Never before has her friend ever been this angry with her, and Santana has gotten entangled in big messes.

Santana nods quietly. Even her mother’s tyrannical scolding has never hurt as much as this. She grabs Brittany’s clean, outstretched hand and lets herself be lead outside. Whether Brittany has threatened the bartender or has found a way to pull some strings Santana does not know. Regardless, they exit through a hatch in the basement through which the beer barrels are transported.

The side street is quiet. There is a light drizzle but Santana refuses to wear the cloak Brittany offers her. She tells herself it is because Brittany will need it later on, as she will face the elements face first as they ride back home on their horse, not because she feels ashamed therefore refusing any comfort.

Brittany holds her close as they walk to the stable. The bleeding has stopped, but she sports a dark red moustache on her upper lip. More smears of blood cover her chin, cheeks and hand. Santana’s ears are buzzing and the ground sways like the sea. She hopes she will not have to puke later the evening, or worse, wake up in the middle of the night and having to find a tub to puke in. Besides her obvious drunk ailment, she is aware of her exhaustion. She just wants to cling to Brittany as she rides, maybe cry a little, and lay in bed.

They do not share a single word until they reach the stable. By that time, her intensely beating heart as calmed down, and the rush and fear from the last few moments in the tavern feel like a dream. In spite of that, Santana still knows it really happened. With every step she takes, she is reminded through a growing bruise on her ass. She sighs as Brittany pulls her pockets inside out for a pair of keys.

“I’m sorry.” Punching Brittany square in the face is not something she ever thought she would do. The shame and hurt inside her do not subside. On the contrary, they keep growing. Santana knows she did something very, very wrong.

Brittany sticks the key in the lock and pushes open the heavy stable door. “I should be sorry. For stealing these keys of the stableboy. He probably got into a lot of trouble for losing these.” Brittany jingles the keys. She grabs a burning oil lamp that hangs on a nearby hook and turns it up, leading them to Fleetwood.

The gelding is chewing his hay loudly. Being the glutton he is, he attempts to take a couple last bites as Brittany pulls him from the stable. Santana watches with her arms crossed as Brittany tightens the girth. She is swaying lightly on her feet, too intoxicated to stand still. They left Fleetwood in his tack with the knowledge they would be back within a couple hours and wanting to leave as soon as possible - maybe even fleeing from a scene.

“After you, my lady.” Brittany bows elegantly as she lets Santana get on first.

A bit unstable, Santana climbs on the back of the tall, grey dappled horse. She has climbed on many a steed with a dress, but alcohol is a consistent humbler and makes even the greats question their skill if they consume enough. Once she sits secure with both her legs on one side Brittany leads the horse outside by the reins and locks the stable again. She then pushes the keys through a gap between two planks of the door.

It is as if they were never there.

Santana is staring at the stars when she feels the saddle underneath her shake. Brittany climbs on behind her. She watches as Brittany makes her red dress disappear by pulling the dark cloak over her legs, protecting her from the cold of the night. A warm hand splays over her stomach, pressing her into the squire’s body. Unconsciously, Santana chooses to believe Brittany wants to feel her close, and that it’s not an act to keep her from slipping off the horse’s back.

With the slightest pressure of Brittany’s feet, Fleetwood takes off in the direction of the castle. His heavy hooves echo through the narrow city streets, a nuisance to anyone who is not vast asleep. Santana cannot muster up enough energy to care, both her body and mind exhausted from drinking and dancing.

“I danced the whole night.” Santana mumbles as soon as they reach the edge of the city. Fleetwood steps sound muffled on the dirt. The words fall off her tongue with difficulty, the muscle too ungainly to pronounce words properly.

Brittany nudges her cheek with her nose. She hums. “That you did.”

“And, I made a friend.”

“You always make friends. You’re very charming.”

“Yeah but, she’s a real friend.” Santana turns to face Brittany, since she is sitting sideways on the horse she does not have to turn much. Nonetheless, the hand around her waist clings on tighter, making sure she does not fall off. “Like… We talked. We had a connection.”

“Sounds amazing.” Brittany deadpans, her focus on the dark trail ahead as she encourages Fleetwood to counter.

“You don’t have to hold on so tight.” The grip of the hand on her hip is bordering on painful. “I’m drunk. Not dumb. I can sit on a horse.” The grip slackens, albeit a little bit.

By the time they reach the castle, Santana is sure she is not imagining the tension between her and her best friend. Normally, Brittany would guide Fleetwood in an easy canter once they leave town until they reach the open field. From there, they would watch the lights on the castle walls grow bigger, Fleetwood walking at his own pace.

Brittany would reminisce about funny figures she saw at the bar or how she won the rigged game of dice. Santana would giggle, perhaps even laugh vehemently in that way only Brittany can make her laugh. She would ask how she did it, how does one cheat the cheater. Brittany would stay silent, and smile a smug smile that makes Santana melt like cream on a warm cake. In those moments, with her head nestled underneath Brittany’s chin as she listens and the light of the stars guiding them home, Santana feels normal.

Any sane person would argue it is extremely dangerous, two girls on a horse in the middle of an open field at night. Raiders or anyone who is uncivilised enough to attack random people could easily sneak up on them and overpower them. Perhaps it is exactly that, the fear of being raided, something any peasant on a trip fears, is what makes her feel normal. Between the castle walls, there is always one pair of eyes on her at least. Where the most vile thing that can happen is someone dropping her new gown on the floor. There, the things she fears most being Miss Corcoran’s lectures about taxes or her father finding out about her nightly escapades, which don’t seem so bad when compared to being held at knifepoint in the dark.

Besides the couple sentences they spoke at the beginning of the ride, they have not talked at all. Brittany forced Fleetwood to canter home without taking a rest, making no effort to enjoy the nighttime through laughs.

Santana feels like an intruder as she watches Brittany remove the tack and makes Fleetwood comfortable for the night. She lingers in the walkway between the stables and pretends to be busy with one of Fleetwood’s neighbours. When the horse retreats her head and there is nothing around Santana can distract herself with. She mumbles an apology.

“What?” Brittany sticks her head out of the stable she is in.

“I’m sorry.” Santana repeats, supressing her usual jeering. She never repeats an apology. She barely even apologises for things in the first place. So, if Brittany can simply accept her apology that angry feeling in the pit of her stomach will go away and they can both sleep soundly.

For a moment they just stare at each other. Brittany’s face is blank, but Santana knows she is thinking. She can tell by the way Brittany keeps tapping the handle of the bucket she is holding with her index finger. She is bothered.

Brittany sighs deeply, closing her eyes for a moment. “It’s okay. It just… hurts.” She flashes a forced smile.

They confronted the problem, talked about it, and Santana apologised. Perhaps not in that order, but it doesn’t matter. Things are a-okay again, starting now. There is totally no reason for tension anymore, Santana decides.

“Yeah.” Santana lets out a shaky breath. “Let me at least clean you up.”

As response she gets a smirk that blooms into a toothy grin. And now Santana knows things truly are okay again.

Quietly Brittany shuts the door that leads to the kitchen. Santana lights up a discarded oil lamp and searches for some rags in drawers. Which, despite the light of the lamp, is hindered by darkness. She grabs the empty air next to a handle on multiple occasions. Once she finds a clean rag, she dips the cloth in a vat of water that stands off to the side and walks back over to Brittany who perched herself on the table. Next to Brittany is a tray covered by clean cloths, the surface of which billowed by the pastries underneath.

“Do you really think they’ll miss one or two?”

“Mercedes worked really hard on them. They’re for the feast tomorrow.” Santana puts the oil lamp on the table and brings up the damp cloth to brush of the dried blood. “Or tonight, I guess.”

“Another one of those stupid dinner parties? Didn’t you have one a couple days ago?” Brittany scrunches her face. The cold cloth uncomfortable against her skin.

“I did.” Santana responds factually. “My parents are inviting all the princes from neighbouring kingdoms and hope I like one. That way no more stupid knights die from Sapphian. Apparently she already has 110 documented deaths since she first appeared, not counting the peasants she kills when she raids the nearby towns. Half of those deaths are our own knights.”

“Never come between a dragon and her treasure.” Brittany says solemnly, then grins.

“You’re so weird.” Santana scoffs, feigning annoyance.

Brittany wraps her legs around Santana’s waist and pulls her close, locking her feet together at the ankles. “You love it.” She teases.

Santana hums in agreement. She ignores whatever Brittany is doing with her hair. She assumes the squire is braiding the strand of hair, judging by the repetitive tugging on the left side of her forehead. When she deems Brittany clean, she grabs a dry part of the rag and wipes off the damp skin.

Brittany pulls a face of disgust and lifts her head backwards, away from the dusty cloth, and wipes her lips with the back of her hand. “It’s good. You know I hate that.”

“You prefer staying wet?”

Instantly, she regrets her word choice. Brittany bursts out laughing. Santana punches her lightly in the stomach, directly in a patch of dried blood. She wipes her knuckles clean, an annoyed frown on her face.

“The gods punish immediately.” Brittany smirks. She sits back, leaning on her elbows. She has this smug twinkle in her eyes that messes with Santana’s head. She hates it, and Brittany is very much aware of that. The legs around her hips tense up, squeezing slightly in a teasing manner.

Brittany stares at her for a while. The light of the lamp reflects in the corner of her eyes and highlights a few loose strands of hair. This observation jogs Santana’s memory. She looks down to see a tiny, messily braided tuft of hair. She picks it up to get a closer look.

“You know Tina is going to brush it out in the morning, right?”

Brittany shrugs. “’s our little secret.”

For a few seconds Santana simply stares at her. “I am way too drunk for riddles right now.”

“I meant,” Brittany sits up and reaches over towards the tray of pastries and grabs two, “that only we know who ate these.” She bites into her enthusiastically, spilling crumbs all over the table and her lap. She presses the other one to Santana’s lips, waiting for her to bite it.

Santana gives her one of her ‘are you serious’ stares but bites when Brittany keeps pressing. She moans obscenely when the flavours of the icing and the berry filling blend in her mouth. She stuffs the rest of the pastry in her mouth.

“These are so good.”

“Told you we should try them.”

Santana rolls her eyes. Not knowing what to do with her hands, she plants them on Brittany’s warm thighs. “You always want a bite of everything when there is food available. You’re always hungry.”

“Yeah, but these are Mercedes’ pastries, so they make me like, extra hungry.” Brittany waggles her eyebrows.

“Weirdo.” Santana says through a yawn. She wants to touch the tip of Brittany’s nose lovingly but instead presses her finger into the cheek beside it. She frowns, annoyed with her own failure to perform a simple task. Brittany watches her for a moment, then jerks into action.

“Let’s get you to bed, my lady.” She says solemnly. Her feet untangle and drop to the side, finally freeing Santana from her leg trap.

As they sneak to Santana’s room, Santana anticipates getting her cuddle on; The only thing that will help her survive the tedious dinner tomorrow.

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