That Time of the Month - Part 2
Title: That Time of the Month
Pairing: Brittany/Santana
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Season 1, probably.
Summary: For this prompt on the glee_kink_meme: Someone requested a continuation of this fill and I was far too happy to oblige. Messy period sex.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.
Author's Notes: Part One here. I have a slightly weird kink that I've shoehorned into all but one of my smut fills. Can you figure out what it is?
---
There was a lot that the Glee Club didn't know about Brittany and Santana. They didn't know about the 7 years' worth of inside jokes that had built up between the two, until they were practically speaking their own language sometimes. They didn't know about the fights they still had occasionally, usually over something stupid, and the great make-ups they had afterwards. They didn't know that every year, the two of them renewed their vows of best-friendship on the anniversary of the day they met, which was totally not gay, by the way, lots of friends do stuff like that (right?). And they definitely, absolutely didn't know that after all this time, even though Brittany was on the pill now, every 3 months their periods still coordinated.
So that morning, when Santana woke up and saw that hers had started, right on time, she did a little mental math, then grabbed some extra tampons on her way out the door.
Sure enough, Brittany was waiting by her locker with a distressed expression on her face. Wordlessly, Santana passed her a bottle of Midol and watched her light up.
For the rest of the day, things progressed the way they normally did when they were both riding the red tide: lots of hand-holding when they were in class together and passing the bottle of painkillers back and forth for when they weren't. Santana took advantage of Coach Sylvester's distraction as she threatened to disembowel a freshman for tripping and spilling soup on one of the Cheerio's tables to slip Tina some money for a bag of M&Ms, and that kept them both going for the rest of the afternoon.
One thing was different from before, though. Last month, when it had just been Santana on the rag, she had had a threesome with Brittany and Puck. It had honestly been some of the best sex of her life, and she was desperate to see if it would still be as good if she was the one giving it. She had been obsessing about it all day, and the more she thought about it, the more turned on she got. Right before her last class of the day, she changed to a pad, to get the ball rolling faster when she was at Brittany's house later.
Unfortunately, she forgot about a last-minute Friday Glee practice.
Fortunately, when they got to Glee, it was obvious that the long day had taken its toll. When Mr. Schue started doo-wopping to 'Barbra Ann,' everybody got up to bop along except Brittany and Santana, who was still holding her hand. But after the first chorus had passed and they were still sitting, the music faltered as everyone turned to look.
"What's wrong?" Mr. Schue asked, looking worried.
"I just don't feel like dancing right now, Mr. Schue," Brittany answered, not meeting his eyes.
"Are you feeling ill?" Rachel piped up. "Because although I believe the nurse has left by now, I'm sure that you could-"
Brittany completely cut her off. "Nah, I just feel kinda down. My period started today."
The reaction was immediate. The girls gave her a look of mixed sympathy and pity, and the boys looked horrified. Kurt in particular had this expression like someone had just taken a shit on his shoes. Mr. Schue tried to look like he wasn't kind of grossed out. "Do you want to go home early?" he asked gently.
Brittany looked worried. "Will you make us do push-ups?" Santana tried not to snort with derision. That was the usual Cheerios punishment: 100 push-ups for every 5 missed minutes of practice. Their Glee teacher would probably have a heart attack at the thought of making his precious little babies do something like that.
Mr. Schue just seemed to take the question as another Brittany-ism. "Uh, no. No push-ups. Just...uh...try to practice your vocals this weekend. Okay?"
Santana practically shot out of her seat. If she got her way, there would be plenty of practicing of vocals. And by that, she meant sex. "Will do. See you later!" She beamed at the club, and almost laughed at their confused glances. Nope, she wasn't cooking up some devious plot, she was just about to get laid. She grabbed her bag and blew the jazz band a kiss, and the trombone player looked like he was about to shit his pants. Barely giving Brittany time to grab her bag, she dragged the other girl out of the room as Brittany waved a weak goodbye.
The usual plan for days like this was to cuddle on the couch, watch Disney movies, and eat chocolate chip cookies until they were ready to puke. This time, though, Santana merely stood in Brittany's living room when the other girl went to use the bathroom. She gave Brittany exactly a minute and a half to take out her tampon and pee before she tried the doorknob.
Brittany jumped when the door opened and Santana entered, almost dropping the pad in her hand. "Jeez, S, you scared me," she admitted. "It's a good thing I'm on the toilet, because I almost-"
"I want to try it," Santana said, and immediately regretted it. Not because she didn't want to have sex with Brittany, but because she knew that there was a certain way to talk to the other girl, and leaving sentences open for interpretation like that was not it.
There was a pause as Brittany mulled this over. Finally, she shifted a little. "If you really need to go, S, then you just need to wait for a little while longer."
"No, I..." Santana sighed a little. "Do you remember last month? When I got my period? And you and Puck..."
There was another pause. Santana waited patiently until realization slowly dawned in Brittany's eyes. "Oh, you want to try..." She used her free hand to gesture at herself.
Santana nodded, and Brittany smiled slowly. "So you wanna get your red wings?" she asked, trailing her hand up her thigh to the edge of her skirt. Santana nodded again, making a mental note to check later and see if there was a special word for a fetish for having period sex, because if there was, Brittany definitely had it.
"Not on the toilet," she said, because that was just gross. And she really didn't want to have to root for old sheets or whatever all over Brittany's house, so... "Get in the shower." Even as she said it, she started to take off her shirt. Brittany nodded enthusiastically, toeing off her shoes and socks.
Santana waited until she had stepped in the shower before removing her last item of clothing, her panties. As she bent down and threw them onto the bathroom floor, she could feel a drop of blood sliding down her leg. Brittany undressed while still sitting on the toilet, and then made a quick leap into the tub once she was fully nude.
There was a moment as Santana just stood and took in the sight of Brittany, all long legs and blonde hair, a small flush already dusting her neck and chest. She wanted - no, needed - to feel Brittany's warm strong hands, to hear her gasps and moans, to touch her soft, smooth skin. She leaned forward and gently pushed Brittany into the tile wall, pressing gentle kisses on her cheeks and nose. Brittany giggled and rested her hands on Santana's hips, squeezing her eyes shut like a little kid.
Brittany gave a small, happy hum when Santana moved to her jaw and neck, still showering her in little kisses. She squirmed and laughed when Santana hovered near her collarbone, a ticklish spot. As Santana began to move lower and lower, down Brittany's sternum and stomach, her giggles were mixed in with deep, slightly shaky breaths. Santana fell to her knees and pressed one more kiss to the patch of neatly-trimmed pubic hair, and Brittany gave another little hum, this one more pleading.
Santana sat back on her heels for a moment. There were a few drops of blood trailing down the insides of Brittany's thighs, the rich red color a stark contrast to Brittany's pale skin. Santana leaned down and licked one, from just above Brittany's knee, and she could feel the other girl's shiver. From this close, she could see goosebumps spread in a wave, all over Brittany's legs.
The smell was sharp and strong, different in a weird way from the usual heady scent that Santana usually thought of as Brittany's aroused smell. She licked her lips, trying to see if the taste was different, too, but there was only a coppery aftertaste, hovering in the back of her throat. Shrugging, Santana leaned forward again and drew her tongue up along the trail the drop of blood had made, up the silky skin on the inside of Brittany's thigh. Brittany shivered again, bracing both hands on the wall behind her and shuffling her feet to either side, making more room for Santana.
From here, the smell was even stronger, almost overwhelming. Santana ducked her head and licked along Brittany's slit, from back to front. Her mouth was immediately filled with that strong salt and copper flavor. Above her, Brittany gave another pleading whine. Santana had expected to be a little grossed out, but the taste of blood in her mouth was surprisingly arousing. There was just something so primal and dirty about it. She wanted to taste more, to feel that sick sweet heat on her lips. She rested one hand above Brittany's knee and reached up with the other, drawing apart the other girl's outer folds.
There was a lot of blood pooled around her entrance, but she and Brittany had always been very heavy on the first day. Even as she watched, a few drops rolled down her fingers and palm, leaving tracks down to her wrist. Brittany whined again and rolled her hips down a little, begging Santana wordlessly. Santana slid her fingers through that slick warmth, up to Brittany's clit and back down again, and Brittany took a long, shuddering breath. When she slowly eased two fingers inside of Brittany's tight, impossibly wet hole and back out again, they were completely covered in blood, dripping down her hand and wrist. Brittany moaned and rocked her hips again.
Sliding her fingers back inside, Santana curled them just right and Brittany made a high-pitched keening noise. She began to shallowly thrust her fingers in and out, trying to curl them the same way each time, and Brittany moaned with every movement. Leaning up, Santana began to lap at Brittany's clit, pulling a breathless groan from the other girl. She could feel and taste the blood everywhere, dribbling down her chin and tickling her arm. Brittany clutched at her head, fingers tangling in her hair, and rolled her hips, trying to grind down harder into Santana's face.
Her mind was filled with the sound and smell and taste of Brittany, and as the other girl's breaths grew more and more shallow and her movements more frantic, Santana slid her free hand off of Brittany's leg and into herself. She was so wet and ready, she almost came just from her own two fingers, but she settled for leaving them there, merely staving off her own arousal until Brittany was satisfied.
It didn't take long. A few more broad strokes of her tongue, and the other girl was shuddering and gasping above her, clenching so tightly Santana could barely move her fingers. She kept going, drawing it out until Brittany's knees shook with the effort of holding herself up. Finally, though, she stopped to let the other girl breathe.
As Brittany shivered her way through the last of the aftershocks, Santana began to slowly slide her fingers in and out of herself, teasing. She took the opportunity to simply look at Brittany, her mouth slack and open, her face still flushed and sweaty as she breathed heavily. She was so close already, feeling that tingle in her thighs and that tightness in her chest, like she should be holding her breath, but she wanted to wait for Brittany. Finally, slightly dazed blue eyes opened and fixed on hers.
"Are you touching yourself?" Brittany asked, her voice husky and low. Santana could only nod.
Brittany sank to her knees, her face inches from Santana's, long legs and arms all around her. "Stop," she said, and Santana did. She reached down and pulled Santana's hand away from herself, and she couldn't help but whimper, even as Brittany replaced it with her own hand.
Santana clutched at Brittany's arms as the other girl drew fast, hard circles around her clit. She stared at the smear of blood she had just left on Brittany's skin for a moment before her eyes squeezed shut. Her heady moan was cut off by Brittany's mouth on hers, wrapping her up in a sloppy kiss as she came undone.
She panted heavily into Brittany's mouth, riding out the waves of her orgasm. Before it was fully over, Brittany was pushing her again, sliding two fingers inside of her and roughly thumbing at her clit. Santana barely had time to choke out Brittany's name before she was tumbling over the edge again, Brittany's fingers filling her perfectly.
Eventually, Brittany pulled her fingers free. Santana opened glazed eyes to see Brittany's hand, bright red, directly in front of her face. Meeting Brittany's gaze, she leaned forward and sucked a few fingers into her mouth, sucking her own blood off of Brittany's hand. Brittany shivered and panted open-mouthed as she watched.
When Brittany's fingers were mostly clean, Santana let them slide out of her mouth. She finally noticed the way they both looked right now; flushed and breathing heavy, their hair looking like absolute sex, with long stripes of blood marking all the way down Brittany's legs and a large puddle, shockingly red against the white tub, underneath Santana. There was a streak of red on Brittany's bicep and Santana's hands were absolutely coated.
Brittany saw what she was looking at. "It looks like we just killed something," she whispered.
"Yeah," Santana chuckled. She brushed at her cheek and could feel the slick wetness there. "And then I ate it with my teeth."
Reaching out, Brittany cupped her hands on the back of Santana's head and pulled her in for a quick kiss. "You'd make a good vampire," she said.
Santana slid her hands up Brittany's thighs, resting them on her hipbones. "I'll be Angel and you can be Buffy," she said.
"Aren't we more like Willow and Tara?" Brittany asked, frowning slightly.
"This one time? At band camp?" Santana said, trying to make that face from the movie. Brittany threw back her head and laughed.
Later, after they had showered and changed into comfy pajamas, they spooned on the couch and fed each other ice cream while Pirates of the Carribean played in the background. And even later, when Brittany's parents were in the other room, Santana slid her hand inside of Brittany's underwear and fingered her slowly, teasingly, until she bit her fist and whimpered as she came. And as Brittany gently sucked Santana's fingers clean again, Santana thought that maybe getting her period wasn't something she would complain about anymore.
---
Pairing: Brittany/Santana
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Season 1, probably.
Summary: For this prompt on the glee_kink_meme: Someone requested a continuation of this fill and I was far too happy to oblige. Messy period sex.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.
Author's Notes: Part One here. I have a slightly weird kink that I've shoehorned into all but one of my smut fills. Can you figure out what it is?
---
There was a lot that the Glee Club didn't know about Brittany and Santana. They didn't know about the 7 years' worth of inside jokes that had built up between the two, until they were practically speaking their own language sometimes. They didn't know about the fights they still had occasionally, usually over something stupid, and the great make-ups they had afterwards. They didn't know that every year, the two of them renewed their vows of best-friendship on the anniversary of the day they met, which was totally not gay, by the way, lots of friends do stuff like that (right?). And they definitely, absolutely didn't know that after all this time, even though Brittany was on the pill now, every 3 months their periods still coordinated.
So that morning, when Santana woke up and saw that hers had started, right on time, she did a little mental math, then grabbed some extra tampons on her way out the door.
Sure enough, Brittany was waiting by her locker with a distressed expression on her face. Wordlessly, Santana passed her a bottle of Midol and watched her light up.
For the rest of the day, things progressed the way they normally did when they were both riding the red tide: lots of hand-holding when they were in class together and passing the bottle of painkillers back and forth for when they weren't. Santana took advantage of Coach Sylvester's distraction as she threatened to disembowel a freshman for tripping and spilling soup on one of the Cheerio's tables to slip Tina some money for a bag of M&Ms, and that kept them both going for the rest of the afternoon.
One thing was different from before, though. Last month, when it had just been Santana on the rag, she had had a threesome with Brittany and Puck. It had honestly been some of the best sex of her life, and she was desperate to see if it would still be as good if she was the one giving it. She had been obsessing about it all day, and the more she thought about it, the more turned on she got. Right before her last class of the day, she changed to a pad, to get the ball rolling faster when she was at Brittany's house later.
Unfortunately, she forgot about a last-minute Friday Glee practice.
Fortunately, when they got to Glee, it was obvious that the long day had taken its toll. When Mr. Schue started doo-wopping to 'Barbra Ann,' everybody got up to bop along except Brittany and Santana, who was still holding her hand. But after the first chorus had passed and they were still sitting, the music faltered as everyone turned to look.
"What's wrong?" Mr. Schue asked, looking worried.
"I just don't feel like dancing right now, Mr. Schue," Brittany answered, not meeting his eyes.
"Are you feeling ill?" Rachel piped up. "Because although I believe the nurse has left by now, I'm sure that you could-"
Brittany completely cut her off. "Nah, I just feel kinda down. My period started today."
The reaction was immediate. The girls gave her a look of mixed sympathy and pity, and the boys looked horrified. Kurt in particular had this expression like someone had just taken a shit on his shoes. Mr. Schue tried to look like he wasn't kind of grossed out. "Do you want to go home early?" he asked gently.
Brittany looked worried. "Will you make us do push-ups?" Santana tried not to snort with derision. That was the usual Cheerios punishment: 100 push-ups for every 5 missed minutes of practice. Their Glee teacher would probably have a heart attack at the thought of making his precious little babies do something like that.
Mr. Schue just seemed to take the question as another Brittany-ism. "Uh, no. No push-ups. Just...uh...try to practice your vocals this weekend. Okay?"
Santana practically shot out of her seat. If she got her way, there would be plenty of practicing of vocals. And by that, she meant sex. "Will do. See you later!" She beamed at the club, and almost laughed at their confused glances. Nope, she wasn't cooking up some devious plot, she was just about to get laid. She grabbed her bag and blew the jazz band a kiss, and the trombone player looked like he was about to shit his pants. Barely giving Brittany time to grab her bag, she dragged the other girl out of the room as Brittany waved a weak goodbye.
The usual plan for days like this was to cuddle on the couch, watch Disney movies, and eat chocolate chip cookies until they were ready to puke. This time, though, Santana merely stood in Brittany's living room when the other girl went to use the bathroom. She gave Brittany exactly a minute and a half to take out her tampon and pee before she tried the doorknob.
Brittany jumped when the door opened and Santana entered, almost dropping the pad in her hand. "Jeez, S, you scared me," she admitted. "It's a good thing I'm on the toilet, because I almost-"
"I want to try it," Santana said, and immediately regretted it. Not because she didn't want to have sex with Brittany, but because she knew that there was a certain way to talk to the other girl, and leaving sentences open for interpretation like that was not it.
There was a pause as Brittany mulled this over. Finally, she shifted a little. "If you really need to go, S, then you just need to wait for a little while longer."
"No, I..." Santana sighed a little. "Do you remember last month? When I got my period? And you and Puck..."
There was another pause. Santana waited patiently until realization slowly dawned in Brittany's eyes. "Oh, you want to try..." She used her free hand to gesture at herself.
Santana nodded, and Brittany smiled slowly. "So you wanna get your red wings?" she asked, trailing her hand up her thigh to the edge of her skirt. Santana nodded again, making a mental note to check later and see if there was a special word for a fetish for having period sex, because if there was, Brittany definitely had it.
"Not on the toilet," she said, because that was just gross. And she really didn't want to have to root for old sheets or whatever all over Brittany's house, so... "Get in the shower." Even as she said it, she started to take off her shirt. Brittany nodded enthusiastically, toeing off her shoes and socks.
Santana waited until she had stepped in the shower before removing her last item of clothing, her panties. As she bent down and threw them onto the bathroom floor, she could feel a drop of blood sliding down her leg. Brittany undressed while still sitting on the toilet, and then made a quick leap into the tub once she was fully nude.
There was a moment as Santana just stood and took in the sight of Brittany, all long legs and blonde hair, a small flush already dusting her neck and chest. She wanted - no, needed - to feel Brittany's warm strong hands, to hear her gasps and moans, to touch her soft, smooth skin. She leaned forward and gently pushed Brittany into the tile wall, pressing gentle kisses on her cheeks and nose. Brittany giggled and rested her hands on Santana's hips, squeezing her eyes shut like a little kid.
Brittany gave a small, happy hum when Santana moved to her jaw and neck, still showering her in little kisses. She squirmed and laughed when Santana hovered near her collarbone, a ticklish spot. As Santana began to move lower and lower, down Brittany's sternum and stomach, her giggles were mixed in with deep, slightly shaky breaths. Santana fell to her knees and pressed one more kiss to the patch of neatly-trimmed pubic hair, and Brittany gave another little hum, this one more pleading.
Santana sat back on her heels for a moment. There were a few drops of blood trailing down the insides of Brittany's thighs, the rich red color a stark contrast to Brittany's pale skin. Santana leaned down and licked one, from just above Brittany's knee, and she could feel the other girl's shiver. From this close, she could see goosebumps spread in a wave, all over Brittany's legs.
The smell was sharp and strong, different in a weird way from the usual heady scent that Santana usually thought of as Brittany's aroused smell. She licked her lips, trying to see if the taste was different, too, but there was only a coppery aftertaste, hovering in the back of her throat. Shrugging, Santana leaned forward again and drew her tongue up along the trail the drop of blood had made, up the silky skin on the inside of Brittany's thigh. Brittany shivered again, bracing both hands on the wall behind her and shuffling her feet to either side, making more room for Santana.
From here, the smell was even stronger, almost overwhelming. Santana ducked her head and licked along Brittany's slit, from back to front. Her mouth was immediately filled with that strong salt and copper flavor. Above her, Brittany gave another pleading whine. Santana had expected to be a little grossed out, but the taste of blood in her mouth was surprisingly arousing. There was just something so primal and dirty about it. She wanted to taste more, to feel that sick sweet heat on her lips. She rested one hand above Brittany's knee and reached up with the other, drawing apart the other girl's outer folds.
There was a lot of blood pooled around her entrance, but she and Brittany had always been very heavy on the first day. Even as she watched, a few drops rolled down her fingers and palm, leaving tracks down to her wrist. Brittany whined again and rolled her hips down a little, begging Santana wordlessly. Santana slid her fingers through that slick warmth, up to Brittany's clit and back down again, and Brittany took a long, shuddering breath. When she slowly eased two fingers inside of Brittany's tight, impossibly wet hole and back out again, they were completely covered in blood, dripping down her hand and wrist. Brittany moaned and rocked her hips again.
Sliding her fingers back inside, Santana curled them just right and Brittany made a high-pitched keening noise. She began to shallowly thrust her fingers in and out, trying to curl them the same way each time, and Brittany moaned with every movement. Leaning up, Santana began to lap at Brittany's clit, pulling a breathless groan from the other girl. She could feel and taste the blood everywhere, dribbling down her chin and tickling her arm. Brittany clutched at her head, fingers tangling in her hair, and rolled her hips, trying to grind down harder into Santana's face.
Her mind was filled with the sound and smell and taste of Brittany, and as the other girl's breaths grew more and more shallow and her movements more frantic, Santana slid her free hand off of Brittany's leg and into herself. She was so wet and ready, she almost came just from her own two fingers, but she settled for leaving them there, merely staving off her own arousal until Brittany was satisfied.
It didn't take long. A few more broad strokes of her tongue, and the other girl was shuddering and gasping above her, clenching so tightly Santana could barely move her fingers. She kept going, drawing it out until Brittany's knees shook with the effort of holding herself up. Finally, though, she stopped to let the other girl breathe.
As Brittany shivered her way through the last of the aftershocks, Santana began to slowly slide her fingers in and out of herself, teasing. She took the opportunity to simply look at Brittany, her mouth slack and open, her face still flushed and sweaty as she breathed heavily. She was so close already, feeling that tingle in her thighs and that tightness in her chest, like she should be holding her breath, but she wanted to wait for Brittany. Finally, slightly dazed blue eyes opened and fixed on hers.
"Are you touching yourself?" Brittany asked, her voice husky and low. Santana could only nod.
Brittany sank to her knees, her face inches from Santana's, long legs and arms all around her. "Stop," she said, and Santana did. She reached down and pulled Santana's hand away from herself, and she couldn't help but whimper, even as Brittany replaced it with her own hand.
Santana clutched at Brittany's arms as the other girl drew fast, hard circles around her clit. She stared at the smear of blood she had just left on Brittany's skin for a moment before her eyes squeezed shut. Her heady moan was cut off by Brittany's mouth on hers, wrapping her up in a sloppy kiss as she came undone.
She panted heavily into Brittany's mouth, riding out the waves of her orgasm. Before it was fully over, Brittany was pushing her again, sliding two fingers inside of her and roughly thumbing at her clit. Santana barely had time to choke out Brittany's name before she was tumbling over the edge again, Brittany's fingers filling her perfectly.
Eventually, Brittany pulled her fingers free. Santana opened glazed eyes to see Brittany's hand, bright red, directly in front of her face. Meeting Brittany's gaze, she leaned forward and sucked a few fingers into her mouth, sucking her own blood off of Brittany's hand. Brittany shivered and panted open-mouthed as she watched.
When Brittany's fingers were mostly clean, Santana let them slide out of her mouth. She finally noticed the way they both looked right now; flushed and breathing heavy, their hair looking like absolute sex, with long stripes of blood marking all the way down Brittany's legs and a large puddle, shockingly red against the white tub, underneath Santana. There was a streak of red on Brittany's bicep and Santana's hands were absolutely coated.
Brittany saw what she was looking at. "It looks like we just killed something," she whispered.
"Yeah," Santana chuckled. She brushed at her cheek and could feel the slick wetness there. "And then I ate it with my teeth."
Reaching out, Brittany cupped her hands on the back of Santana's head and pulled her in for a quick kiss. "You'd make a good vampire," she said.
Santana slid her hands up Brittany's thighs, resting them on her hipbones. "I'll be Angel and you can be Buffy," she said.
"Aren't we more like Willow and Tara?" Brittany asked, frowning slightly.
"This one time? At band camp?" Santana said, trying to make that face from the movie. Brittany threw back her head and laughed.
Later, after they had showered and changed into comfy pajamas, they spooned on the couch and fed each other ice cream while Pirates of the Carribean played in the background. And even later, when Brittany's parents were in the other room, Santana slid her hand inside of Brittany's underwear and fingered her slowly, teasingly, until she bit her fist and whimpered as she came. And as Brittany gently sucked Santana's fingers clean again, Santana thought that maybe getting her period wasn't something she would complain about anymore.
---