(Previously called No!)
Santana Lopez X Fem OC
2023 Glee Fanfiction Honorable Mention Award Winner for Best Santana Book
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Madison Blue Casper had never experienced true love, her head filled with dreams shared with her best friend, Kurt. Yearnin...
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Brittany Pierce was a lot of things.
She was a cheerleader. A dancer. A mind filled with wonderful, and colorful, ideas to better the world into something only she could think was the definition of perfect. It hardly mattered if there was any rhyme or reason to it all. It only mattered that someone in her life was happy, and being so meant Brittany was grinning ear-to-ear in the background.
These facts alone made Santana's entire stomach flip after flip as she finished the job she needed done for Miss Sylvester and forced Finn to buy her dinner and give her a ride home. Well, not to her home, at least. And Santana didn't even prefer what she ordered for dinner. All her mind could think about was Brittany Pierce, her best friend, sitting on Madison Casper's bed trying to show her how to masterbate all because kids were talking openly about being banged this Friday. Even Mr. Schuester and Miss Pillsbury–gross!
"Are you sure this is where you want me to drop you off?" Finn asked, parking on the curb of Madison Casper's home. The lights were off and no vehicles were in the driveway. Other than a faint light inside toward the back of the house, it seemed as if the Caspers weren't home, or peacefully asleep. "It is a little late."
"No, this is good." Santana unbuckled and opened the car door.
She climbed out and slammed the door without another word, leaving Finn with his depressing regrets for sleeping with her. It made her feel vile, much like how Puckerman always left her feeling–unsatisfied, unhappy, and unrecognizable in a mirror to her own eyes. Maybe one day she'd experience that sexual rush people speak of in all those online forums where they talk about enjoying having sex instead of having sex to find a reason to enjoy life.
At that point, Santana wasn't even enjoying life or sex. It was, as Finn said, nothing because it meant nothing. Could that possibly be Santana's issue? Her sexual frustrations all realigning back to where her frustration stems? Santana enjoyed sleeping with Brittany. That was an all time new experience-earned type of enjoyment, but still something was always missing.
As she rounded toward the front of the house from the stone path through the garden, Santana looked back over her shoulder to see Finn already driving away. He was such a gentleman–telling her he wasn't satisfied, forgetting her name and saying Rachel's name in bed. Oh, and who could forget this? Driving away and leaving the Hispanic girl creeping around a rich, white neighborhood alone in the dark like some burglar.
Santana fixed her messy hair in the window's reflection and pressed her thumb over the doorbell. She waited patiently, or as patiently as she could. It felt as if she had been standing there an hour before Balto's fat head came bounding toward the door.
