Summary: Fill for the GKM. "Santana wants to get her sweet lady kisses on- of course she does, she's had Brittany pressed against her for the last few hours, and she's not made of stone- but at the moment, it really, really hurts to move." Brittana. Sweet!sex. SOLOSMU#1 IT'S BACK BITCHEZ!

Warning: You guys already know, there's gonna be Brittana fucking. But this story is pretty tame.

A/N: HELLOOOO everyone! :D Happy Wanky Wednesday! Since so many of you expressed sadness at the Summer of Smut being over, as promised, here is the Solstice of Smut to tide you over! Since I didn't actually put a dent in my GKM prompt folder, seven smutty fics will be coming your way between today and the 20th, in preparation for the actual Solstice on the 21st of December. And if THAT'S not enough smut for you beautiful perverts, right after this ends, the author gang and I will be dropping a round of smutty holiday fics on you. Happy December, bitches!

As always, thanks for reading my shit! If you want to keep up with the Solstice of Smut, follow the SOLOSMU tag on tumblr, or you can follow me at xandylytex, but honestly, I don't know why anyone would want to follow me because I seriously just weep over my Brittana feels all day err'y day. Whatever, Brittana forever.

Well okay I guess I'll shut up now! YESS!

Happy wanking! 8)~

"What do you ladies think?" Brittany asks enthusiastically. "One more time?"

A collective groan rises up from her teammates in response, and Brittany grins. If there's one thing she loves to do, it's troll her fellow Troubletones. She knows they're tired- they've been practicing for Sectionals for the last three hours, running through and perfecting the choreography for their routines. They're under a lot of pressure, going up against their former teammates on the New Directions- who will be scrutinizing them harshly, no doubt- and being a newly-formed all-female show choir. They have to do good if they want to earn any kind of prestige. But going by the way they've been practicing, there's no doubt in Brittany's mind that they have what it takes- so long as their judges agree. Their routine is pretty close to perfect right now.

Still, Brittany loves trolling.

"Girl, if we run through that routine one more time," Mercedes starts in between gasps for air, "there won't be any of us left to compete because we. Will. Have. Died." She waves her towel at Brittany in emphasis from her spot on the floor, leaning against the wall, before she pats sweat from her brow with it. Her legs are stretched out in front of her, and she struggles to catch her breath in between long sips from her water bottle.

Brittany looks around and notices that all the other girls are in a similar state of exhaustion, even-

"I hate to say it, B, but I agree with Wheezy," Santana says, sounding a little breathless as she sinks to the floor, legs trembling. "I don't think I can do that routine again."

"Besides, I was perfect anyways," Sugar agrees with a shrug. She leans heavily against the wall, which is really just a huge mirror, and at Santana and Mercedes's baffled looks, she defends, "What? I was."

Before Santana can respond with something harsh, Brittany cuts her off with a neutral, "Okay. Let's stop for today, then."

The other girls murmur their consent; Mercedes offers up a low, "Praise." Slowly, like zombies clawing their way up from shallow graves, her teammates begin gathering up their belongings, keys, bags, and towels from various spots around the edges of the room. Mercedes reminds them about a meeting with Shelby later in the week as they pack up their things, groaning in discomfort from tired, sore muscles.

Brittany watches them, feeling like the only one who's not tired- in fact, she's ready to go again, and she's disappointed her fellow Cheerios aren't. Then again, she's been dancing all her life, and she never feels worn out after, no matter how long or intense the routine, and today is no different. She's buzzing. She feels pumped, her nerves tingling with excitement. She's got tons of energy, and for some reason, she feels a little- or a lot- turned on, and it's no secret why; the routine they'd been practicing involved having her girlfriend pressed very close to her. She can still feel Santana's hand in hers, trusting Brittany to lead her; the way her body rolls when Brittany dips her; the way Brittany's thigh presses between her legs, her warmth- all of it has her feeling like she's on fire, and inconspicuously her eyes dart over to her girlfriend, who's lying back on the cool wood of the dance floor, recovering.

Brittany traces her eyes over Santana's bare stomach, up to her chest, which rises and falls with her breaths, and pauses on her cleavage, which is glistening with sweat. She licks her lips as she imagines tasting the salty skin with her tongue, of kissing her way across the valley of her full breasts, which are encased in a tight purple sports bra. As her eyes continue to roam, she feels a surge of desire hit her, and her fingers twitch, aching to touch. Reluctantly, she tears her gaze away and focuses her attention on her exiting teammates instead. She swallows hard, moving to the door to escort them out of her house.

After all, the sooner they leave, the sooner she can have Santana to herself.

When Brittany comes back a few minutes later, Santana hasn't moved from her prone position, and it makes her grin- partly because she finds it adorable that Santana pushed herself so hard in their routine, and partly because now they are completely alone. Without the fear of being caught staring by her teammates, Brittany pauses and allows her eyes to wander over her splayed-out girlfriend once more, being a lot more obvious in her leering. Santana has her eyes closed, and doesn't notice the way Brittany bites her lip as her gaze travels across her stomach and down over her legs, which are adorned in tight, black dance pants that end at her knee, exposing her firm, toned calves.

Playfully, Brittany steps closer and nudges her bare toes against Santana's thigh. Santana groans in response to her touch but doesn't open her eyes. "Britt…"

"San," Brittany returns teasingly. She giggles as Santana furrows her eyebrows, cringing as she tries to shift her leg away. "Let's go upstairs, baby…"

Santana sighs as Brittany continues to stroke her foot flirtatiously along her thigh, making it rather obvious what her intentions are once she gets Santana upstairs. Santana wants to get her sweet lady kisses on- of course she does, she's had Brittany pressed against her for the last few hours, and she's not made of stone- but at the moment, it really hurts to move. She's just started feeling like her heart isn't about to explode, and her breathing has returned to normal, but she'd rather not push it.

"San," Brittany insists, prompting Santana crack an eye open. She finds Brittany standing over her, looking at her with that dark, charged look she always has after dancing, and at the knowledge that Brittany is not going to let her just die right there on the studio floor, Santana makes a valiant attempt to sit up, cringing as every muscle screams at her in pain. She immediately collapses back to the wooden dance floor, feeling stiff and miserable.

At the sight of her girlfriend in obvious discomfort, Brittany sinks to the floor, lying down next to her. "Pobrecita," she teases, and Santana shoots her an unamused look, though Brittany can see a smile fighting to appear at the corner of her mouth.

"Funny, baby. I'm in real pain here," Santana whines.

"Of course you are," Brittany teases, leaning forward to press a wet, lingering kiss to Santana's jaw. "I guess being Captain of the Cheerios has made you soft."

Santana gasps in shock and attempts to pull away, but then her body reminds her, hey, I'm exhausted, and she groans. "Rude."

Brittany laughs against her cheek before leaving another kiss there, then begins moving her kisses lower, down to Santana's neck. Santana shivers at the grazing touch.

"Brittany," she breathes. The blonde swipes her tongue beneath her ear and she sucks in a heavy breath. "Shit." Brittany giggles sexily against her neck, opening her mouth to make her kisses a lot more sexual, and Santana squirms in response, feeling her body heating up rapidly, despite having just started to cool down from rehearsal.

"You felt so good moving against me," Brittany whispers throatily in her ear, and her hand slides along Santana's stomach, which tenses at her touch. "When we do the dance at Sectionals, it's all I'm going to be thinking about- how incredible you feel."

Santana closes her eyes again and groans. She makes a supreme effort to touch Brittany, sliding her hand across the smooth floor and onto Brittany's bare thigh resting near hers. She strokes her fingers along her skin, remembering the way her thigh felt pressed against her center as they danced, and she squeezes her eyes shut as Brittany begins to suck on her earlobe.

Santana turns her head to face Brittany, who brings their mouths together, her lips pressing against hers sweetly. Brittany kisses her, slow and deep, gently sucking on her lower lip every so often. Her blunt fingernails scrape across Santana's stomach lightly, and Santana arches up, tightening her grip on Brittany's thigh. She tilts her head into the kiss, opening her mouth to find Brittany's tongue, but as she leans further into her girlfriend's body, her upper back protests and she sinks down, wincing.

"Oh, honey," Brittany coos.

"Sorry, B," Santana says sheepishly. "I-"

"Shh," Brittany hushes her before kissing her hotly, but tenderly. She strokes soothing circles against Santana's stomach with her hand, and Santana relaxes against the floor. "Let me take care of you, baby."

Nodding, Santana releases Brittany's thigh and lies back, watching as Brittany smiles at her, her expression adoring and fond, and Santana feels her heart swell and pound at the thought of Brittany being so sweet and perfect to her, always.

Brittany shifts to all fours above her girlfriend before bending down to kiss her. She explores Santana's mouth for long moments before she slowly moves her kisses down her face, down her neck, down to her collarbone, where she lets her teeth graze and her lips explore. She sucks there a little, eliciting a sharp gasp from the girl beneath her, before she moves even lower to fulfill her earlier desire.

Once she reaches the swell of Santana's breasts, confined tightly in her sports bra, her tongue doesn't hesitate to flick out, and she hums at the taste of Santana's sweat, at the way the salt stings her tongue as she traces it along the curve of her breasts. Brittany nudges her nose in her girlfriend's cleavage and inhales deeply, enjoying the scent of Santana's skin, and the smell of her sweat. It's calming to her, it's familiar. It's Santana, and it makes her sex ache with want.

She reaches up to tug the cup of Santana's sports bra down enough to expose her nipple, then licks at it slowly, feeling it harden beneath her tongue. She sucks it into her mouth, listening to Santana's moan and feeling the way her body arches into her slightly, encouraging her. Brittany smiles against Santana's breast, stroking her tongue over the stiff nipple, and after another few moments, she kisses her way to the other breast, giving it the same treatment.

"That feels so good, Brittany," Santana says, a little breathlessly, above her.

"Yeah?" Brittany murmurs against her skin. She looks up, finding brown eyes watching her. Santana reaches up and lovingly strokes some loose strands of blonde hair from her face before combing her fingers through her hair. Brittany hums at the caress.

"Don't stop," Santana breathes.

Smiling wider, Brittany shakes her head, then refocuses her attention on making Santana feel good. When Santana's hips start bucking up a little, she fixes Santana's sports bra so it doesn't cause her any discomfort, and begins kissing her way down her quivering, firm stomach. Again she lets her teeth scrape against the skin, against Santana's abs, and her tongue darts out to lick at the V of her hips before she opens her mouth there and sucks, slow and deep.

"Fuck, B," Santana hisses; her hand tightens in blonde hair as Brittany sucks at her skin, a light bruise forming beneath her lips. She soothes the sting away with her tongue, then continues kissing just above the hem of Santana's pants. Santana writhes a little as Brittany teases her lips along her lower stomach; she can smell Santana's arousal, and it makes her groan in anticipation. Carefully, she slides her hands under Santana's ass and hooks her fingers into her pants and panties, then lifts her hips up while tugging them down and off. She pulls the fabric down her legs, being cautious not to aggravate Santana's sore muscles, then works her feet free of the clothes.

Once Santana's lower half is naked, she pauses to take in the sight of her, licking her lips at the wetness evident at Santana's center. Her eyes roam over Santana's toned thighs, which are quivering slightly from a mixture of exhaustion and need. She traces her eyes over Santana's stomach and then her sex, which is exposed and ready for her. Brittany's stomach flips at the thought.

"You're so beautiful," she whispers, and even though she can't see it, she knows Santana blushes at the compliment. She crawls back over Santana's body, bending down to kiss her and pressing her bare thigh to Santana's center. She moans at the feeling of Santana's smooth, slick sex against her skin, rocking her hips down as Santana runs her hands along her lower back, whimpering into Brittany's mouth at the pressure.

Brittany's stomach clenches with arousal, and she can't resist the pull to slide her hand down between Santana's legs, rubbing two fingers against her dripping entrance before sliding them upwards to tease at her hard clit. Santana gasps her name, her nails scratching along Brittany's bare lower back, and Brittany hisses in response, her hips rocking down again, despite the lack of friction she finds. She circles her fingers around Santana's clit, dipping them into Santana's tight heat every so often, teasing, and Santana's mouth drops open as she tries to suck in air.

"Fuck," Santana moans. "Brittany."

"You're so wet for me, San," Brittany murmurs against her jaw, pumping her fingers in deeper before pulling out and teasing them over her clit, then repeating the motion. "I can't wait to dance with you at Sectionals," she confesses, feeling breathless as she drives her fingers in hard, over and over, and Santana arches beneath her, grinding her hips up desperately. "I can't wait to show the entire audience that you're mine."

Santana whimpers in response as Brittany pushes deeper, but keeps her tempo steady and slow, building her up gently. She twists her fingers a little and feels Santana clench around her, and she chuckles, panting, "God, you feel so good, Santana." She lifts her head up and catches sight of them in the mirror, and another hard throb of arousal hits her. "You look good, too, baby," she whispers. "Look at us."

Santana turns her head, meeting Brittany's eyes in the reflection of the mirror, and the sight of Brittany on top of her, in control, is enough to push her that much closer to her release. She tightens around Brittany's fingers, squeezing her eyes shut, because the image is going to make her come too soon. Brittany leans down and nips at the hinge of her jaw in response, then says, "I love how you look when I'm fucking you like this. It's all I'm going to think about when we're up on that stage."

Santana moans again, and Brittany keeps up her unhurried pace, pressing kisses to her girlfriend's lips, her chin, her jawline, husking sweet things in her ear (you danced so good today, baby and I'm so proud to be your girlfriend and dance partner and I love you so much) while Santana shakes beneath her, her breath coming in rapid gasps.

"You're gonna come for me," Brittany breathes into her neck. "I can feel you getting close. You're so tight-"

"Uh-huh," Santana pants, her fingers digging into Brittany's back a little harder. Brittany drives into her harder in response, and she cries out, "Fuck- Britt- I'm-"

"Ugh- you're so hot, Santana," Brittany tells her, cradling her closer, squeezing her eyes shut to try and block out the overwhelming feeling of her own arousal pounding between her legs, to try and ignore the urge to fuck Santana hard and fast, to watch her fall apart powerfully. Instead, she keeps her fingers steady, swallowing the dryness in her mouth, and carries Santana over the edge gently. Santana cants her hips up, and Brittany feels her strangle her fingers inside as she comes. She releases a loud breath through her teeth as her body trembles, her nails scratching roughly across Brittany's back, and Brittany hisses through her own clenched teeth, jerking her hips forward, aching. She kisses the hinge of Santana's jaw, trembling for her own release but ignoring it. "So hot," she repeats, her voice low and thick.

Santana doesn't say anything- she's speechless; all she's capable of doing is lying on the floor and catching her breath for long moments while Brittany strokes fingers through her hair and kisses her face. Once Santana calms considerably, Brittany gets up.

"B," Santana protests, turning her head to watch Brittany's steps. "Where are you going? I'm gonna do you."

Brittany grins playfully. "You're a little worn out to be making those kinds of threats, Santana Lopez," she teases as she walks over to the small storage closet attached to the studio and pulls out a blanket and a pillow. She's taken a few naps in here, herself, and she can't blame Santana for not wanting to move, especially now that she's given her a good reason.

"It's not a threat," Santana corrects. "It's most definitely a promise."

Brittany drops back down by her side with the blanket and pillow, smiling adoringly. "Oh, is it?" she purrs, leaning down to lick at Santana's lips.

"Mm-hm." Santana nods; she tries to sit up. She winces, then sinks back down. "Just as soon as I can move again, it's going down."

Brittany laughs and kisses Santana's nose before lifting up her head and sliding the pillow beneath it. "Well, when that happens, I'm going to hold you to it," she says matter-of-factly, throwing the blanket over them and curling up to her girlfriend's side.

"But for now," she breathes against Santana's cheek. "I'm just going to hold you."

Santana chuckles a little, cuddling up to Brittany and smiling. Her eyes slip closed. "As long as I have you, I know I'll stay alive."

Brittany's heart pounds at the reference, and she falls asleep against Santana, grinning from ear to ear.

DID YOU THINK I'D CRUMBLE?

DID YOU THINK I'D LAY DOWN AND DIE?!

OH, NO, NOT I! I WILL SURVIVE!

OH, AS LONG AS I KNOW HOW TO LOVE I KNOW I'LL STAY ALIVE!

Hahah okay, I'm done. For now.

Okay, who misses the Troubletones? Because seriously, that was one of the best things Glee ever did. They totally should have won. I mean, BRITTANGO THO. HOLY FUCK. Ahhh! Never not dying about any of that. :'D

In fact, that's probably why the Troubletones lost- because they killed half the judges with feels, so the only ones left were the ones that don't ship Brittana, and they voted for Nude Erections instead. FUCK THAT MAN.

Anyways! Thanks for reading. Review if you feel like it, but if you don't feel like it, that's cool. I'll see you on the next adventure- which will be tomorrow!

AND NOW A WORD FROM ~OFFICER SAFETY:

I can't imagine that having sex on a wooden dance floor is very comfortable- or sanitary. I mean come on, people just stepped all over that shit. Gross. Obviously, Brittany washed her hands before she came back in the room and fucked her sexy girlfriend, because she's a classy bitch, and you should follow her example if you don't want to give your girl- or yourself- a nasty yeast infection.

And that's all I have to say about that!

PLAY SAFE AND STAY SAFE!

See you soon, pals!