A/N: I needed a break from the depression that is "Forbidden," so here's a fun little one-shot. This is for a GKM fill, and an interesting idea to toy around with, so I decided to write it. I did change the prompt around a little, though.
Prompt (in a nutshell): AU, set in Prom-asaurus. Finn doesn't win Prom King, Brittany does. To Santana's great dismay, Brittany's Prom Queen is Quinn, not her. Brittany and Quinn slow dance as the new leaders of the senior class while Santana watches them with steam practically blowing out of her ears. Brittany's a tease, so she makes sure Santana knows she's having a lot of fun with Quinn (who is not in a wheelchair…AU), and Quinn rolls along for the ride. After their dance is over, Santana pulls Brittany out of the gym and fucks her senseless. Jealous!Santana and Tease!Brittany.
Enjoy!
Spending her senior prom with Brittany was maybe the best choice Santana had ever made. They danced till their faces were crimson and sweat dripped down their backs, and laughed till their voices were hoarse and their minds giddy with ecstasy. There was no other word to describe it other than "perfect"—completely, utterly, and irrevocably perfect. Santana was sure that there was nothing that could ruin this night for her. That is, until the time came to count the votes for Prom King and Queen.
Santana and Quinn had decided to double-count all of the votes, a sort of I-don't-trust-you-so-we're-both-gonna-count-the-votes system that suited them both very well. When they entered the Spanish room with the ballot boxes in their hands, Santana announced that she would begin with the Queen votes first, leaving Quinn the task of counting the King votes. Santana knew how badly Quinn wanted to find out if she had won or not, and it was a sort of payback for a stunt Quinn had pulled earlier this week, when she accidently told the Glee Club about the one time Santana fell from the top of the pyramid and landed square on her ass, earning her the short-lived nickname "Asstana Klutzpez." Short-lived, because anyone who dared utter the name in her presence would be granted a long, demeaning rant about the fact that her legs are much too short for the rest of her body, making her look like some sort of demented troll doll, or that her ears are so big she could almost fly away like Dumbo. Everyone knew not to cross Santana Lopez, and if they did, they immediately knew never to do it again. It was one of her best traits—well, at least in her opinion.
Santana settled in one of the chairs of the back table and set the large glass box in front of her. She noticed as Quinn sported a small pout, her longing eyes on the box in front of Santana. Santana smirked unabashedly to herself. Score one for Lopez, score zero for Fab-gay.
She wasn't so confident anymore as she began to count the votes. It seemed that whenever she got ahead of Quinn, Quinn would jump right back into the battle. The number of votes for her and votes for Quinn was obnoxiously close. The other girl Whatever-Her-Name-Is had absolutely no chance.
Just as her pile of uncounted votes was getting to its end (Santana made a silent prayer to God before unfolding each paper, hoping to get on His good side), Quinn turned around in her chair to face her. She bit her lip and her eyes wandered uncertainly around the room. "I finished counting."
Santana waited for a few moments, but when Quinn didn't go on, she growled, sort of annoyed, "And?"
Quinn looked at her uncomfortably. "Brittany won."
Santana felt her heart jump into her throat with excitement. She couldn't help the ear-to-ear grin that formed on her face with the thought that if Brittany won, then surely she won as well. That was the way prom court worked, right? The couples run together, and they both win and rule the school for the rest of the year. That's how it always happened, right?
Right?
Wrong. As Santana counted the last of the ballots, she realized, a wave of anger and embarrassment washing over her, that Quinn had won by one vote. One. Fucking. Vote. Her mind raced as she thought of a possible way to rig the system, and to make two of Quinn's votes disappear. Just as she was about to hide those two votes in her lap, Quinn turned to her, her eyebrows raised, and said, "Are you done yet? Let me count the Queen votes." And without another word, another chance for Santana to fix this goddamn mess, she swiped the papers into her arms and placed them before her. Santana cursed under her breath. This was not happening. Quinn was not going to be Brittany's Queen.
But she was. After she counted the King votes, and saw, to her surprise, that Brittany had won by a landslide, Quinn turned to her with the biggest and most annoying smile she had ever seen. "I won!" she squealed, giggling in delight and making Santana really want to slap her hard across her porcelain-doll face. All she could do, however, was sit in her chair and clench her jaw closed in frustration. Quinn, being the vengeful bitch that she is, smirked knowingly at Santana and said, slowly and seductively, "Really sucks that I'm gonna dance the big dance with your girlfriend, doesn't it?"
Santana balled up her fists in her lap, trying to think of a snappy Santana-Lopez retort, but for once, she was at a loss for words. Perhaps because she was too distracted by the thought of Quinn's hands on her girlfriend, or perhaps because all she wished to do at that moment was take Quinn to the floor and beat the shit out of her. Knowing that this would only earn her a one-way ticket out of prom, she settled for sending Quinn the most venomous glare she could muster, which, to her immense irritation, only made the latter's grin grow wider. Quinn let out a victorious laugh, and with a blood-boiling wink, left the Spanish room.
It's not that Santana really hated Quinn, although at this moment it certainly seemed like it. They were friends. Well, maybe frenemies. There were times when they got along really well, what with them both being the queens of the school and having the same bitchy attitude. Right now, however, Santana was more than willing to call Quinn her personal arch nemesis.
With a final little frustrated sigh of defeat, Santana walked back to the gym, deciding that whatever happens, she's Santana fucking Lopez, and she has to keep her cool. Her reputation was on the line—she was not willing to go back to that dark place somewhere lower in the social pyramid, where she lingered for a while after Finn had outed her. No, she had just won her spot back as the school's top bitch, and she was not willing to let that go, especially without a fight.
When she arrived at the gym, everybody was already gathered around the stage, and Principal Figgins was explaining something about how they shouldn't panic, but there was an army of rabid raccoons living on the school's roof, and that the problem had yet to be terminated. He also warned that anyone who tried to keep one of those raccoons as their own personal deadly weapon would be suspended immediately. With that, he let a smile form on his face and invited the prom court up to the stage.
Santana mentally prepared herself briefly before strutting to the stage with her head up high and taking her place beside Quinn, who was smirking naughtily. Santana ignored her and turned her gaze to Brittany, who was clapping her hands excitedly with a completely heartwarming grin spread across her lips. For a moment, Santana forgot the disaster that was about to come, and lost herself in her love for her girlfriend, as the latter jumped delightedly in her spot and flashed her a thumbs-up. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
Principal Figgins asked the students to be silent, and then cleared his throat. "Your choice of Prom King for this senior class is…" He opened the little note and let out a content sigh. "Brittany Pierce!"
The students erupted into cheers and applause, and Brittany looked so happy that she could almost grow wings and take flight. Well, maybe that's what she was trying to do, because she was jumping up and down so high now that it was a surprise she was even able to land on her feet. Only Brittany and her mad dancing skills could manage that. She finally stood still when Kurt, last year's Prom Queen, placed the large crown on her head. She turned her head to Santana, her smile wider than it had ever been, melting Santana's heart. Only Brittany ever provoked such feelings in her.
The crowd calmed and Principal Figgins cleared his throat again. Santana heard Quinn stifle a giggle beside her, and it took every ounce of her willpower not to send her fist across the imbecile's face. Brittany turned curiously to them, waiting to see who her Prom Queen would be. Figgins began, "And now, what you've all really been waiting for, Prom Queen… Your senior Prom Queen is…" He unfolded the paper. "Quinn Fabray!"
Once again, the students erupted into cheers, and Santana rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. She noticed how Brittany's face fell briefly, but as Kurt laid the crown on an annoyingly smug Quinn's head, Brittany's frown turned into a mischievous smirk. Santana could almost see the gears turning behind her eyes and the only thing she could think was Oh, no.
Figgins announced that now the King and Queen would have their first dance, and Brittany, faux-gentleman, offered Quinn her hand and led her to the center of the dance floor. Santana rolled her eyes again and followed them, making sure to get a clear view as the music started.
Santana thought she would be okay at first. I mean, it was just one dance, right? She would only have to suffer this blasphemy for a few minutes, and then it would be over. Piece of cake for the girl who owned the school.
Yeah…not so much.
Not even ten seconds had passed, and they were already pressed so close against one another that not even a hair could get between them. Quinn wrapped her arms around Brittany's neck, setting her head on her shoulder, while Brittany's hands found their ways to Quinn's hips and her thumbs traced small circles over her dress. Santana felt her face grow hotter. That was what Brittany did with her and she was not okay with seeing this be done to someone else. Especially not Quinn.
As the song progressed, their hold only became more intimate. They were starting to develop a rhythm of subtle thrusts into their hips, and at one point, when Brittany's back was turned to Santana, Quinn had raised her head just enough to catch Santana's eyes as she placed a soft kiss on Brittany's neck. What the fuck? Santana stood motionless with her mouth hanging open and rage building up inside her. Didn't Quinn say she was not that into that?
Whatever Quinn said, Santana was absolutely not willing to let her experiment with her girlfriend. But knowing that she'd only make a fool of herself if she yanked Brittany away from that haughty bitch, she only bit her tongue and let a low growl form in her throat.
What came next, Santana was completely unprepared for. As they turned further and Brittany faced her, she sent her tongue out to lick Quinn's earlobe and then caught it between her teeth, her eyes flicking open to stare straight at Santana. Santana felt her jaw drop again and her face burn, not willing to believe the sight before her. Her Brittany was seducing someone else? Not. Fucking. Cool.
Just as she was about to throw pride out the window and march right between the horrendous sight before her, the song ended and the students began to clap respectfully. Quinn and Brittany stayed attached for a few more moments before Quinn finally pulled away, turning back to face Santana for the sole purpose of throwing a triumphant smirk her way. Santana fumed, her nails biting into the palms of her hands and her determined eyes set on Brittany. She strode straight at her, Brittany's eyes playful and completely unfazed by her girlfriend's very obvious fury.
Santana grabbed her wrist forcefully and growled into her ear, "Classroom or bathroom stall, your choice."
Brittany feigned indecisiveness and tapped her finger on her chin. "Hmm…"
Santana's growl grew louder, and a naughty grin spread across Brittany's face. "I guess I'd prefer the classroom."
Without another word, Santana pulled Brittany out of the gym and into the first empty classroom she could find. She slammed the door behind them, and Brittany turned to the room, her expression thoughtful, as if she was trying to decide which table she would like to be fucked on.
Santana couldn't possibly care less which table it was on, so she shoved Brittany to the nearest one and crashed their lips together, breathing deeply into the hard kiss as her hands held Brittany's hips possessively. She forced her tongue in Brittany's mouth, and Brittany giggled, massaging her tongue calmly against Santana's anxious one. Santana pulled Brittany's bottom lip between her teeth and bit down hard, earning a soft moan from Brittany. She trailed frenzied kisses along Brittany's jawline, then down her neck, and pushed Brittany back until she was sitting on the table. Suddenly, Brittany spoke from above her. "You're green."
Santana froze, her mouth mid-sloppy kiss, and leaned back until she was looking Brittany in the eyes. "I'm what?"
"Green," Brittany repeated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It's another word for jealous. I learned it from a book called Cats United. One of the cats was green, and until they explained that green also means jealous, I thought that the cat was actually in the color green. I considered dyeing Lord Tubbington's fur green after that, because he's always jealous, but he's been a little upset with me lately since the last time I took his cigarettes away, and—"
"Brittany," Santana said flatly. "As much as I would love to hear about Lord Tubbington and his green fur, now's really not the time."
Brittany looked at her for a moment, and then shrugged, and Santana took that as her cue to continue from where she had left off. Just when she was about to unhook Brittany's fake bowtie, Brittany spoke again. "I love it when you're a chipmunk."
Santana froze again, her jaw dropping and her eyes blinking in disbelief. "What?" She raised herself to eyelevel with Brittany once again.
Brittany let a small smile form on her lips. "When I was dancing with Quinn, you looked so adorable. You reminded me of a chipmunk, the way your cheeks puffed out and your lips were in a pout. I really wanted to fold you up and put you in my pocket."
Santana stared at her incredulously. Only Brittany. As much as she loved Brittany's random spouts of quirkiness, she was really not in the mood for them right now. She had just been given the shock of her life back there on the dance floor, and she was far beyond determined to win her pride and her girlfriend back. Sighing softly and shaking her head lightly, she said, "I promise you, Britt, that you can tell me all about chipmunks and green fur and whatever-the-hell-else you want. But right now—"
"Sex," Brittany said knowingly, her sheepish smile turning into that heart-stopping smirk again.
Santana sighed in relief. "Yes, sex," she mumbled as her lips returned to Brittany's neck, softer at first and then remembering that they had a task, which was to dominate, so they became harsher again. With much difficulty, Santana was finally able to force Brittany's green dress up her thighs, and it pooled around her waist on the table. Her hungry eyes turned to the space between Brittany's legs, which, to her satisfaction, was already damp with arousal.
She caught Brittany's lips in another hurried kiss as her fingers worked to slip Brittany's panties down her thighs and then off of her completely. Without waiting for any form of consent, she shoved two lustful fingers up Brittany's slick core. Brittany let out a little gasp at the very sudden intrusion, but the gasp quickly turned into an eager moan as Santana's fingers began to pump impossibly fast. Her lips still sucking on the place where Brittany's neck connected with her head, Santana's thumb began to draw circles around Brittany's clit, causing the latter to let out a terribly loud but terribly arousing moan. Not moving from her place on Brittany's neck, Santana whispered, "Shh, Britt, there are people out there."
Brittany either couldn't comprehend her words or just didn't care, because another loud moan was quick to follow as her hips began to slide back and forth, rocking the entire table on its creaky legs. Santana sent in a third finger, but was determined to draw this out and not to make Brittany come too quickly. When she felt that Brittany was approaching her orgasm, Santana withdrew her fingers altogether and smirked when Brittany emitted a protesting sound of surprise. She opened her piercing blue eyes and stared at Santana, who just smiled back. "Come on, San…" She canted her hips forward, begging for the blessed touch to return. Santana just continued to smile.
Brittany furrowed her brow in irritation. "I'm sorry, okay? I was only fooling around."
When Santana remained silent, Brittany sighed angrily and spat, "I won't do it again, okay? Can I please have my orgasm now?"
"Yes," Santana replied, a triumphant grin on her face. She slipped her fingers back into Brittany, and all it took was a few thrusts and the curl of her fingers to make Brittany's body squirm in delight, a series of unintelligible words and moans escaping her lips. Santana's grin remained on her face until the last of Brittany's jolts, and she finally pulled out her fingers and brought them to her face, waiting for Brittany to open her eyes. When she did, Santana slid the sodden fingers seductively into her mouth with a soft moan. Brittany's eyes were ablaze.
After she had calmed, Brittany bent down and retrieved her panties, sliding them up her knees and into their place again. She made sure her dress sat well on her, and then began to move toward the door. Santana let out a little sound of surprise. "I—uh—Britt."
Brittany turned around, eyebrows raised innocently. Santana fumbled for words. "Uh—I—you—" She pointed at her sex, still covered by the dress, of course, hoping Brittany would understand her useless attempt at speaking.
The mischievous smirk returned to Brittany's face, spelling only one word—revenge.
Oh, shit.
Just when Santana felt like she was on top again, Brittany practically had her on her knees begging for her touch, and she knew it very well, by the looks of it. She slowly inched toward Santana, biting her bottom lip and playing with the material that was covering her left breast. Santana found herself shivering as thought after insane thought passed through her mind, of what Brittany would do now that she was completely at her discretion. Brittany seemed to be toying with the same thought, her nose crinkling delightedly as she finally closed the gap between their bodies. "Sex?" she asked, her voice deep with desire.
All Santana could do was nod, and she did that furiously, eager to get her point across. It would be so easy for Brittany to leave her hanging like that after the little stunt she had pulled—to just say her goodbyes and leave prom, without one look back at Santana, who'd be writhing on the floor trying to relieve herself of the horrible tension between her legs. If there was one thing Brittany knew how to do, and do well, it was melting the school's number-one badass bitch into a breathless little puppy begging for love.
Brittany brought a thoughtful finger to her chin once again. Santana held her breath in anticipation until it looked like Brittany had finally come to a decision and she said, "Okay, but you have to do something for me first."
Santana let out a little sigh of defeat, preparing herself for anything Brittany was about to request. Brittany noticed the change, giggled delightedly, and said, "It's not anything bad, silly. I just want you to talk in a chipmunk voice."
Santana's eyes rounded in astonishment. She was prepared for anything but that. "I—Britt—"
"It's not that hard, San, come on," Brittany cut her off, shoving her playfully. "Either you do it or I'm leaving." She batted her eyelashes and Santana silently cursed that smile that just won't leave her face.
She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment, feeling the pain throbbing between her thighs. She shook her head, opened her eyes again, and said, in the highest, most chipmunk-y voice she could find, "I am Santana 'Chipmunk' Lopez and I love Brittany S. Pierce."
Brittany squealed in delight, clapping her hands together and grinning like a madman. Santana couldn't help but feel a little twinge of love in her heart, which always warmed instantly whenever Brittany was truly being herself. She even forgot her need for relief for a few seconds. That is, until Brittany was lying on top of her, pinning Santana's back to the table below them and kissing her feverishly.
If Santana thought she was gonna have it easy for the rest of the night, boy, was she wrong. Brittany worked impossibly slow, pulling the dress up tiny bit by tiny bit, peppering kisses here and there, until the dress was off completely and Santana was left vulnerable in nothing but a lace bra and matching panties. Brittany took her time as she slipped Santana's heels off, kissing up the inside of her thigh, so close, and then stopping to glide back up Santana's body and return to her lips. Given this situation anywhere else, Santana wouldn't have minded much. But they were at school, for God's sake, fucking school, and someone could walk in on them at any minute to find Santana Lopez putty and naked beneath her girlfriend. That would so not be cool.
Brittany, however, seemed to be on a completely different page. Apparently, this was as good a place as any for them to be intimate, and her lips lingered on practically every inch of Santana's body until she finally reached behind Santana's back and unhooked her bra. By this time, Santana thought that she might ask for a gun instead of a fuck, because what-the-hell-Brittany-I-am-so-fucking-horny-why-are-you-doing-this-to-me.
Brittany captured one of her nipples between her lips, sucking gently and grinding her body softly against Santana's. Santana considered starting to cry so that Brittany would finally stop teasing her, but oh, my God, who does that? Totally lame.
Losing all patience, Santana brought her hands to Brittany's head and tried to gently force it downwards. Brittany released her nipple with a wet pop, grinning up at her. "Uh-uh-uh!" she sang, her finger wiggling at Santana disapprovingly. Santana grunted in frustration as Brittany continued with her plan of killing Santana through the worst kind of torture and moved to her other breast.
By the time Brittany's lips finally made their way to hover above Santana's sex, Santana had a few rebellious tears slipping down her face, and she had never felt any pain greater than what was going on between her legs at that moment.
Fuck, why did she have to tease Brittany earlier?
Brittany pulled off her panties, painfully slowly, all the while smirking up at an exasperated and utterly exhausted Santana. Finally (Thank-the-God-almighty-in-the-heavens-above-and-his-friends-and-his-friends'-friends-and-their-kids-and-whoever-the-fuck-else-is-up-in-heaven), Brittany lowered her lips to Santana's sex and began to softly suck on her clit. Santana, way beyond caring if anybody heard her, let out possibly the longest moan of her life as her muscles began to relax.
It didn't take much for her to reach her orgasm, given that Brittany had been engaging in foreplay for like fifty hours and left her squirming. When Santana did finally reach her climax, she let out a jumbled rant of Spanish curses mixed with "Thank you thank you thank you thank you," as Brittany gently brought her down from her orgasm. All Santana could do was lie wide open with her jaw hanging loose and a look of ridiculous ecstasy spread across her face, while Brittany admired her work and let out a few satisfied remarks. Like a puppet (Santana seemed to have lost all ability to move her body), Brittany moved Santana until she was back in her red dress, and even combed her fingers through her hair so that it wouldn't be too obvious that they had just had sex. She sat Santana upright on the table, a satisfied grin on her face. "You know what you are, San?" she asked, entranced by the way Santana's eyes fluttered open full of overwhelming love and desire.
"What, Britt?"
Brittany placed a soft peck on her lips. "You're my chipmunk. My adorable, quirky, sexy, perfect little green chipmunk."