A/N: This started out as a one - shot. I know have at least two more sequels planned lol This has become epic. So I've decided not to kid myself and properly named this one fic. Sorry for any confusion, I have just combined "Go with the Flow" and "Rectified Mistakes" as part of one fic. I am currently almost finished the third part.
Hope you enjoy :) Please review.
And a note to any fans of my other work, if you want to know why I've been gone for so long, check out my profile :)
Quinn Fabray was furious.
It had started out like a typical evening of studying and Cheerio choreography. They made a bed of blankets on the floor in the evening with Quinn in the center of the bed. She woke up in the middle of the night shocked to find that she was no longer between them and that what had woken her was an odd whimpering sound behind her. They were making out!
Were they insane? They hadn't any alcohol, Quinn was sure of that since Brittany's mother didn't keep anything around. They were a respectable Christian family and Quinn would have neither been allowed nor inclined to want to sleep over unless they were to be trusted. The parents were out of the house, but that shouldn't have been a problem. There had been sleepovers for years and nothing like this had ever happened.
Now Quinn was desperately trying to figure out what to do while Santana and Brittany made noises. Completely inappropriate sighing noises. And someone kept brushing up against her back! The outrage was so sharp she wanted to smother them both with her pillow.
Really, it was stupid. She'd seen the two make out after a few drinks to impress the guys. She did not approve but it was the typical thing girls did. Quinn herself had enough status and power within the school that she did not need to resort to such pathetic endeavours for attention. If anything, she had to actively seek out ways to not garner attention. Making out with another girl was beneath her.
But to do this while she was the only one in the room? Sober? That was unacceptable.
Blood rushed to her head. They weren't making out. Quinn's jaw went slack from surprise. Her body heat rose and she felt a little dizzy, parts of her brain misfiring. She could have sworn Santana just shushed Brittany but that was ridiculous. They would never do this to her. It was social suicide of epic proportions. No one would ever willingly let Quinn Fabray grab this much ammunition. She had to be hallucinating.
There was another noise. A slow, wet sloshing to go with the uneven breathing.
Now she was mortified and sickened. There was a pulse between her legs that aggravated her. Her body was betraying her and she fought it desperately, trying to work up the courage to tell them to stop. To let them know she was awake so they could thankfully cease and desist.
Brittany's breath hitched as Santana must have done something particularly interesting.
Quinn contemplated jumping out the window, turning around and slapping them, or just kicking the person now writhing behind her. She was offended that this somehow turned her body on. She was also angry that they would violate her trust in them this way. And a small part of herself - that she struggled to ignore – was scandalized that Quinn Fabray was being ignored. She was the one in charge. She called all the shots. Her name, face and body were enough to get her anything she wanted from people. Though she tried not to be too prideful or vain, she knew she was hot and desirable. People wanted sex with Quinn; they did not have sex and ignore her when she was right next to them.
"Oh... oh oh-"
Brittany suddenly went muffled, like she was gagged. Quinn felt her blush deepen and she broke out into a sweat as she could hear them start moving faster. She tried to zone them out but her eyes shot open wide and she felt herself grow very wet as Brittany's breathing went sharp and ragged, breaking off into a strangled moan and all movement went still.
Quinn's own body finally relaxed when everything went quiet, though she was still horrified by the steady throbbing between her legs. She tried to dismiss it as her being a virgin and therefore easily aroused by anything.
"My turn...." She could hear the smirk in Santana's voice and she stifled the urge to groan in exasperation. The sexual frustration was bad enough as it was and now she felt stupid trying to interrupt them this late.
"Umm... but what about Quinn?"
"What about Quinn? She sleeps like a fucking log, you know that." There was some shifting.
"Oh I know.... but...."
"Well she's awake now and I feel bad cause she can't sleep. Can we move to another room?"
Quinn was certain that she and Santana had never been more in sync than they had been at that moment. Both went rigid, minds went blank and both needed a minute to reassess the situation. Quinn probably ruined that moment went she started internally screaming with embarrassment.
No one said anything. Quinn because she was humiliated, Santana because she was stricken and Brittany because she was comfortably waiting for a response. She was sated so she was not particularly worried, though she wanted to take care of Santana too.
Everyone was basically waiting for Quinn. Quinn was trying to play dead. It only prolonged her suffering but she really had no idea what else to do.
It was then Santana gathered her bearings and made a decision. She trusted Brittany's assertion that the head cheerleader was awake. Brittany could be scarily sharp sometimes.
They could all pretend nothing happened and she would have to bear the burden of Fabray having enough ammunition to obliterate her status at school. Hoping Quinn would – out of the kindness of her cold heart – keep their secret. Or Santana had to level the playing field. Santana didn't trust Quinn. They weren't very good friends and it frustrated her to no end that the other girl bested her in every damn thing and was in control of everyone. People submitted to Quinn, herself included. It pissed her off because she never saw herself as weak or compliant.
Quinn made a surprised choking noise when she suddenly found herself flat on her back with Santana straddling her waist. The Latina had been wearing a pair of short shorts before bed but was now only clad in her thong and t-shirt.
"What the hell are you doing?!" She hissed, forgetting she was supposed to pretend she had been asleep the whole time.
Santana liked the look of Quinn in that moment. Eyes wide as saucers, arms curled protectively around herself, so nervous and confused, it made Santana feel more confident.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"Santana wants to know why you didn't let us know you were awake. We would have stopped you know." Quinn jerked her head away from the sight of Santana's smug little grin to see Brittany watching her with mildly amused eyes. She had propped herself up on an elbow wearing nothing but her bra. Quite literally, she was only wearing a bra.
Quinn's Christian mind had a conniption.
"Why the hell didn't you stop when you knew I was awake?" she shot back, still completely disoriented by the situation.
"Don't yell at her." Santana warned, her eyes narrowing. Before Quinn could retort Brittany got up on her knees and ran a soothing hand along Santana's arm.
"It's alright. She's just uncomfortable because she's never had to deal with this kind of thing before." She turned to Quinn when Santana's shoulders relaxed. "I'm sorry Quinn, I was distracted. Besides when you didn't tell us to stop I figured you must not mind so much."
"Mind? Mind that my friends are going lesbo right next to me while I sleep? Now why would I mind that? Have you both lost your minds? This-this-this is wrong!" She sputtered as Santana rolled her eyes.
"We aren't lesbians ok? We like to have sex."
"And normally you sleep right through it. You're such a heavy sleeper Quinn."
Quinn gaped at the blonde.
"Wha – how? How many times have... What?"
Santana could see that Brittany wasn't really helping matters. She needed to take matters into her own hands.
"Quinn you didn't stop us because you liked it." She didn't have Brittany's knack for reading people but she figured that since Brittany wasn't correcting her she was right. But she had to continue before the throbbing vein that suddenly appeared on Quinn's forehead burst.
"It's like this... it's not even real sex you know, no penis or anything. We're allowed to have sex with girls."
"No you're not!" Quinn snarled. "That is not how it works and you know it."
"Oh give me a break, it releases tension ok? Not everyone can be as frigid as you are Quinn; some of us have needs and don't want to pray before kissing on the cheek." She ground herself into Quinn's hips for effect and was startled when the head cheerleader inhaled sharply and arched her back.
"Hmmm.... maybe not so frigid...." Santana trailed off, a familiar heat building at the crux of her thighs while Quinn fought the disturbing sensations that assaulted her.
"What-" but she didn't get to finish her thought because Santana was suddenly pinning her arms down at her sides and was kissing her.
It was a vicious, angry kiss that would leave Quinn's lips swollen and bruised. The ferocity surprised her and her mouth parted involuntarily allowing the Latina room for her tongue. Her feelings were a jumbled cacophony each one demanding her attention until she could no longer understand herself. She wanted to convince herself she wasn't enjoying it, to tear Santana to pieces for trying this on her and at the same time she wanted to jerk Santana closer. Her body hummed with lust while Santana dominated the kiss, it was like nothing she had ever felt before. Finn was adorable but for the first time prayer was the last thing on her mind.
Everything about her life was restriction, inhibition and control of herself and others. Santana was trying to take control from her and in a moment of pure senility it suddenly became very important to Quinn that she take charge. What they were doing didn't matter; all that mattered was who came out on top.
Santana made a noise of surprise, vaguely aware of Brittany's gasp, when Quinn deftly flipped their positions in one fluid move. People take for granted just how fit and flexible one has to be as Head Cheerleader.
When Santana opened her eyes she was infuriated. She was on her back, her legs wrapped around Quinn's hips and she didn't even have enough time to realise the head Cheerio had already pinned her arms above her head.
"Wow." She could hear Brittany sigh and it only pissed her off more that the girl she slept with would react that way to her rival.
Quinn hovered over her, her delicate, almost aristocratic features nicely defined by the street light coming in from the window. She was wearing a shirt and pyjama shorts but she radiated a thick air of confidence that can only come from having tasted true power. Any taste Santana ever had was Quinn's leftovers or whatever crumbs the head cheerleader deigned to allow her.
Quinn sneered at her, rolling her hips like a feral cat and hitting Santana in just the right spot. She gasped and as much as she hated Quinn in that moment she instinctively responded to the other girl's presence. Her defiance fizzled away and she turned her head slightly exposing her throat and giving in. Quinn was in charge, everything was back to square one.
Except Quinn had no idea what she was really doing. She hadn't been thinking clearly when she decided to pin Santana. Her only objective had been to win and now that Santana had given up her bravado fell short. What, exactly, did two women do to one another?
Her mask of confidence promptly fell apart and she stared at Santana blankly. Brittany made it worse by rubbing small circles on her back.
Santana noticed the look and blatantly laughed in Quinn's face before she roughly pulled Quinn down to the floor, her movements nowhere near as graceful as Quinn's but just as effective. She threw Brittany a glance and the blond girl quickly jumped in to kiss Quinn senseless while Santana got to work taking off the shorts and underwear, pausing only to admire the lacy G string.
Quinn made a noise of protest but it was quickly swallowed up by Brittany's mouth. She wasn't like Santana; her kisses were more languid and sensual, making it really difficult for Quinn to focus, which was the point.
But when she felt Santana spread her legs wider, her nails digging harshly into her thighs, and positioning herself between Quinn's legs. She couldn't help but stiffen, her own hold on Brittany tightening. She was scared. She had never done something like this before and wasn't accustomed to walking into a situation ignorant and unprepared. While she had never contemplated doing things to a girl and had fantasized about her perfect first time with a boy, she didn't want it to be Santana touching her there for the first time and have the whole thing be one angry attack.
Brittany paused and looked up at Santana reproachfully. The other girl raised an incredulous eyebrow and they had some quiet communication while Quinn struggled with herself on what she was doing. She didn't understand how Brittany seemed to have such influence over Santana; the blond girl never struck her as particularly strong.
It ended with Santana sighing, her grip loosened and she crawled up Quinn's body to lean in for a kiss, ignoring the defensive way Quinn jerked her head back and away. She held Quinn's chin and leaned in for another kiss, this time there was no anger, mainly curiosity. Quinn relaxed and started exploring Santana's mouth too; there was tension and struggle for dominance but none of the hate.
Santana acquiesced because she realised Quinn really was getting scared. She was no damn rapist. If she wanted to beat Quinn it had to be on territory where the girl excelled or it was no victory at all. Quinn started getting aroused again, even excited when Santana cupped her breast and kneaded it. She was still rough but Quinn felt safer. She moaned when the girl slipped her hand up her shirt and pinched a nipple.
For Quinn the entire thing was surreal. Santana started trailing her kisses along Quinn's neck and collarbone, moving further south while Brittany, satisfied by their truce, moved alongside them and returned to capture Quinn's lips.
She was absolutely coated by the time Santana finally made her way down to the flushed, aching heat between her legs.
Santana moaned at her first taste, barely able to catch Quinn's keening in the background. She hadn't expected Quinn to be this responsive and it was no small amount of arrogance that she fully credited herself with making the almighty Fabray soaked. She explored slowly, taking her time and trusting Brittany to keep Quinn in check.
The girl in question was certainly struggling to keep Quinn pinned down. Her kisses were getting aggressive; she clearly did not like being teased at the moment. But Brittany was ready; she lifted Quinn's shirt and held Quinn's arms tightly at her sides while she turned her attention to Quinn's breasts. Those lips and teeth drove Quinn wild but she couldn't move without hurting Brittany and no one hurts Brittany. Quinn herself made sure of that daily. To harm Brittany was to face Quinn's personal retribution. It was one of the few things Santana grudgingly admired of Quinn though she would never admit it.
Brittany decided to take her time, leaving as many marks as she could on Quinn's virginal skin. It amazed her that no one got to touch the head cheerleader before. It was sort of humbling to know Quinn trusted her and even Santana with something she seemed to value so much. She didn't know if Quinn would ever let them do this again, so she wanted to make it memorable.
Quinn honestly believed she had died at some point during the night. The problem was deciding based on the torture, if she was in heaven or hell. Her hips rocked over Santana's face, the evil Latina still far too slow and gentle for her liking. She almost wished she could make the other girl mad again.
Santana's head jerked up in shock, Brittany too stopped abruptly.
"Stop teasing and finish me!" She snarled, her tone commanding.
The other two girls were so shocked to hear Quinn curse they hadn't moved.
"What are you both waiting for?!" Her hazel eyes blazed, locking onto Santana's dark ones, trying to ignore the way the girl's chin glistened.
And just like that everything clicked back into place. Santana obediently slid two fingers into Quinn, her mouth clamped firmly on Quinn's sensitive nub. Quinn cried out in half pain as her sex stretched to accommodate the welcomed intrusion. She gave a shaky moan as Santana started a rhythm.
"Oh... oh fuck... oh my... Oh G-" She still had the presence of mind not to call God's attention to this. And she refused to call Santana's name more than she already had.
Brittany felt herself grow damp again, amazed at how turned on she was to hear Quinn swear. The righteous, articulate Quinn Fabray reduced to incoherent cursing.
"Ohhhh fuck yes, that's it. That's.... that's oh.... shit"
Brittany whimpered, for a moment too fixated on Quinn's flushed face and the tensing muscles in her abdomen as she got closer to orgasm. She snapped out of it when Quinn's glassy eyes connected with her own. She practically pounced on Quinn's neck and chest, knowing she was running out of time to mark her territory.
Santana was also having difficulty focussing. She fumbled the rhythm ever so often but Quinn enjoyed herself too much to notice. The sounds and words coming out of the head cheerleader made her light headed. In the back of her mind she knew she had once again reverted to obedience but at that point she couldn't care less.
The heat was getting too intense and Quinn began to wonder if the torture would ever end and whether she wanted it to. Her cries grew louder and more erratic. She was writhing and she no longer knew who was doing what to her. All that mattered was that no one stopped. She was gripping someone's hair and someone else's shoulder. She could have sworn they had switched positions on her at some point.
Then everything reached its peak and Quinn was straining off the floor, every muscle taut and stretched. A hot fluid rushed out of her and coated her ass. Whoever was inside her kept moving - though slower - and she found herself convulsing sporadically as smaller waves of ecstasy struck her.
When it was over she could barely move. Her body had melted and her breathing was deep and lazy. Half asleep she could overhear Santana and Brittney frantically having sex at her feet, trying to take care of their own needs. Quinn frowned mildly, aware that she should do something, like lecture them or... something. She couldn't quite remember. Instead she sluggishly grabbed her shorts. She tried not to look at them in the process but it was inevitable. They were there adjacent to her feet, pressed tightly to one another, hands between each other's legs and pumping in a frenzy. They were also naked.
She woke up a little at that, watching in amazement at the heat between them. Then she forcibly shut her mouth, which embarrassed her since she didn't know it had happened. Irritated with herself and a little jealous that they could do such things without feeling guilty, she used Santana's discarded shirt to wipe some of the wetness off herself. Feeling smug and still a little drugged off the climax, she fumbled into her shorts and lay back down. When they both loudly climaxed but she felt a pull within her sex, but being sated it didn't have the effect it could have had.
She was angry again, jealous of what they had and the fact that she could never have it. In the morning, when the ecstasy became a memory and she had to face another day, she would feel guilty. Quinn Fabray had to be the ideal girl, to retain her power and please everyone, including God. She would pray for forgiveness and resolve to never indulge in this stupidity again, though a part of her wanted to just to show Santana up. Having sex with a girl is nothing, she was fairly confident that if she was heathen she would be quite capable of becoming an excellent lover, one to surpass even two women making love to someone.
Not that two women can make love, she added to herself. That thought made her sad for some reason. She had Finn and that would be enough.
Brittney showed up and lay down by her left side, Santana spooning the blond from behind. Quinn cleared her throat.
"Alright." She wished her voice didn't sound so husky; it really took away from the impact of her words. "So we're all in this together now. You're safe Santana." She noted the way the Latina went still and was glad she could pinpoint exactly why they had done this. Well, exactly why her friends did this, she still wasn't sure why she specifically decided to allow this but she didn't want to think about it.
"So, we're all in this together. Fine. Tomorrow everything goes back to normal." The air of control returned to her, she was back on familiar footing. "We will never speak of this again. I don't even want to hear a joke about this. This never happened. I will not be sleeping over here again..." she hesitated at the wounded noise Brittany made. "Well... if I ever do decide to do another sleepover, and I'm not saying I will..." She wondered just how Brittany had made it under her skin enough to make her compromise her demands. The girl was a tad unnerving.
"You will not be having sex while I am around. I don't care what you do – although you must be aware that this is highly immoral and wrong – so long as I am not around for it. This never happened."
At that she turned away from them, her mind clouded from the orgasm. Ignoring what had happened wasn't so difficult when one was drunk off sex. She fell asleep fairly quickly.
Almost a half hour later Santana leaned into Brittney and whispered.
"Is she asleep?" As if Brittney had some sixth sense about these things.
She started playing with Brittney's hair but the girl didn't respond.
"What you said, before, did you mean it?"
"Umm you're going to have to be more specific Brit."
"You said what we do isn't real sex."
Santana stopped moving but she could make out the outline of Brittney fingering one of the blankets. They had been friends for a long time so she could tell Brittney was hurt.
"I... uhh...." she didn't know what to say. The last thing she wanted to do was define what they were doing but she couldn't just let it drop now that Brittney was hurt. "Y-you're the only girl I do this with. I mean, outside of Quinn just now." She blurted nervously.
"Umm well...." She tried to come up with something else. "I would... I would be upset.... if you told me we had to stop."
"Oh." But she could hear the smile in Brittney's voice and felt relieved.
"And you know I was only saying that cause of Quinn." Anger rose in her chest. That woman was always screwing things up for her.
"You're mad at her. And sulky."
"I am not sulky."
"Ok." Brittney waited, making Santana feel guilty for snapping.
"It's just... she's always... in charge. Why does she always have to be in charge?" She huffed.
"Well she needs to be in charge." Brittney whispered back. "You don't want to be like that. It's very sad."
Santana didn't see how sad it could be. Quinn had everything. And it upset her that Brittney would side with Quinn.
"No one will ever top Quinn Fabray." She sighed and turned away from Brittney.
Brittney wasn't sure that was true. She paid more attention to people than others gave her credit for. And she could see that at least one person threatened Quinn. She could see it in the way Quinn went out of her way to control the girl, keep her down and subdued. Never had anyone inspired such desperate, vicious cruelty in the head cheerleader. Literally, Brittney could not name anyone else Quinn went so far out of her way to abuse. And she knew why.
Rachel Berry was not controllable. She was a powerful beacon of ambition and positivity. Quinn was a cultivated persona, her strengths developed and nurtured, sensitive to the changing tide of social hierarchy. Rachel was a natural force to be reckoned with. Her bold personality made her an immovable but impenetrable target. Quinn couldn't break her and it was terrifying her. She didn't understand Rachel, one of the few who would not bow before her and the only one to actually thrive off Quinn's attempt.
Quinn, Brittney mused, was also probably unsettled by the fact that Rachel seemed to hold no ill will toward the cruel girl. She didn't obey any of the rules and that's all Quinn understood, obeying the rules. She had to be in control even if she didn't want to be and she could never fully trust someone to be in charge of her.
So Brittney cuddled up to her pouting Santana, happy to know that there were Rachel Berry's in the world who could – hopefully – one day teach the Quinn's of the world, the joys of submitting.