It is kind of debateable as to whether this is Brittana or Pucktana or both so take that in mind when reading this. Please don't yell at me for categorising it as Santana/Brittany. This is just a short little story of mistaken identity.

Italics= Santana

Bold= Puck

Puck was sitting at the back of his Math class, practically catatonic with boredom. The teacher was starting to take on a manner of speaking reminiscent to those in Charlie Brown. He sighed and tapped his pencil on the desk, obnoxiously. He had already pelted JewFro with five paper airplanes that said "You suck" on them, drawn a pornographic picture of Rachel Berry (although it wasn't as good as Quinn's version), and even taken down a couple notes (granted, they were mostly along the lines of "Mr Gordon is a tool" but it was the thought that counted, right?). He sighed and for what seemed like the millionth time that hour he checked his cell for any new texts. He grinned when he saw he was in luck. Santana had sent him a text. And if she was sending him a text, it was probably a sext. Puck was psyched, she had been basically ignoring him for the last little while and whenever they did hang all she wanted to do was complain about Artie taking up all of Brittany's time, which wasn't really cool because Artie was his bro now (sort of). But no girl could resist the Puckasaurus. He grinned lasciviously and opened it.

I'm so horny right now I can't even think straight.

Whoa, getting to the good stuff right away. He went to reply.

Me too, babe

I want to be inside you so bad right now.

Wait, what?

Puck's face heated up and he reread the text several times to make sure he was reading right. Santana couldn't be saying what he thought she was saying.

You mean you want me inside you?

No. Right now all I want is to slip my fingers inside you, curl them until I find that spot and fuck you until you forget your last name.

No one had managed to unnerve Puck this much since the time Rachel had bedazzled his football helmet without asking. He was no prude, but he wasn't into kinky shit like this. Probably. Obviously this was some kind of fantasy for Santana so he would have to let her down easily.

I don't know if that will work for me.

There, a simple "no you can't stick anything into my ass". Now they could get talking about the good stuff.

Tonight it'll have to do, but next week the strap-on comes in and then I'll fuck you so hard that you'll be coming buckets.

Puck looked over his shoulders to see if anyone was seeing this and then shifted uneasily in his seat. Santana ordered a strap-on and everything? She must have really wanted to do this with him. She must have been planning this for awhile. He wasn't gay or anything (this was very important to note), but he was getting kind of... turned on by the whole thing. He's heard that prostate stimulation was supposed to feel really good, I mean he's even heard it called the male g-spot so maybe this wasn't such a weird idea to entertain.

I don't know if I'm ready for that... but tell me what you would do tonight?

This was purely out of curiosity. He wasn't waiting for her reply with baited breath or anything.

I would push you down on your back, where you belong, straddle you, and then start to grind my hips slowly.

Puck's throat was incredibly dry.

...And then?

I would suck and bite at your neck as I reach my fingers down...

He hoped his classmates didn't notice he was practically panting now.

And where do they go?

They circle your clit lightly before plunging into you.

Puck blinked at the screen a few times. Then he remembered earlier that week he had switched his and Brittany's names in the contacts section of Santana's phone as a joke. He felt surprisingly disappointed at the fact. He shrugged it off and went to reply. Even if he wasn't going to have the night he wanted, he could make sure that Brittany did. Plus, Santana's sexts were too hot to erase.