A/N: Someone had to do it.

This idea has been bouncing around my head for awhile and I wanted to get it out before I forgot about it. My other story will be updated after I figure out what direction I want it to go—suggestions are always welcomed.

I think fem!Puck would be like Santana, and actually be regretful for her actions.

Guess I lied about school, huh?

The morning he wakes up, he doesn't remember much.

There is a pounding in his head—like his brain is trying to thrash itself out of his skull—and his eyes are throbbing within their sockets.

His stomach roils in protest at any movement he makes, small spasms holding him down to his bed. There's an aftertaste in his mouth that he's trying to ignore to help avoid the inevitable puking fest soon to come after. He places an arm across his eyes to block the sunlight flitting into to the room, taking slow, even breaths to calm his body down.

The air is cool on his fevered skin and he concentrates on the slow rise of hairs and goosebumbs trailing his exposed skin. It's slow, but as seconds turn into minutes and bile rests at the back of his throat, Gwen Fabray makes the realization that he is very, very naked.

"Get out."

And, apparently, not alone.

He feels a small hand grip at his bicep, sharp and manicured nails digging into the heated flesh. Gwen removes his arm from his face and meets the angry and tear-stained face of one Natalia Puckerman. He stares blearily at her as dark eyes glare at him, her gaze filled with hate.

"Leave," she repeats the command. He notices she also has no clothes on.

The teen freezes and pales. Gwen feels the headache intensify ten-fold, and now he's willing to puke everywhere.

"Out."

The girl tightens her grip more and he can feel the skin break under her talons.

"O-oh God, Na….Nattie, I'm so—"

She doesn't let him finish, shoving him over the edge of his own bed before screaming "GET THE FUCK AWAY NOW!"

Landing in a pile of clothes that might belong to him, he swiftly grabs them and rushes to put them back on—his aching body barely hindering his efforts. He's got his pants on and working on the shirt when Gwen turns to check on Natalia; the girl has her arms wrapped around her legs and face buried in her knees.

He doesn't know what to say.

The boy can't remember the night's events, no matter how fast his alcohol-induced mind tries to remember.

He feels a hole in his chest, raw and fresh from being torn open sometime the night before, maybe even earlier. Possibly the very moment he cheated on his girlfriend.

He can't feel his heartbeat. There's no sound of the muscle pumping blood through his body, and his stomach clenches from something that has nothing to do with the alcohol he consumed.

"Franny…." He whispers, heartbroken. Natalia's body suddenly shakes and he thinks she's crying. He reaches a hand to touch her, calm her down, maybe comfort her, but her voice stops him.

"Don't even think about it. Just leave…..please?"

She sounds like a lost child and Gwen hates himself even more. Sleeping with his girlfriend's best friend wasn't enough, but he was probably a total bastard to the poor girl while drunk. He silently pulls the shirt over his head and walks to his door. He turns only a few feet away from his destination and stares at the sobbing girl sadly.

"I'm sorry," Gwen whispers softly before leaving the room.

His apology makes her cry harder.

He doesn't remember last night. Doesn't remember how much he filled her heart with something akin to love.

But she certainly does.

She remembers the way the brown in his eyes were bright stars across the expanse of a green sky, the two colors blending towards the edges of his pupils to make beautiful gold flecks, and how both eyes burned with clouded desire.

She remembers he was, is, a true gentleman, unlike most of the men she has had the displeasure of sleeping with (her current boyfriend, Rodrigo, sometimes graced this list when both were in a foul mood and dirty, rough sex was a solution). He never pushed her head at an awkward angle so they could avoid eachother's gazes, or force her into a painful position for his maximum pleasure. He did the exact opposite.

He positioned her so she was reclined against the pillows, and he did his best not lay any weight on her by holding himself up on his arms. He whispered the question if she wanted to do 'this', the stench of the vodka shots she'd given him earlier tickled her nostrils. She giggled, entirely sober, thinking him absolutely adorable in his drunken state.

She remembers how his eyes never left hers, how he placed a hot, large palm on her cheek to keep her from looking away as he whispered the words she desperately wanted to hear from anyone after an extremely crappy day with Sue Sylvester and the Cheerios.

"You're beautiful, Nattie—" he placed soft kisses on her face, starting with her obnoxious Jewish nose—"so beautiful." His chaste kissing continued, covering every inch, except her lips.

She remembers she started crying after he said she was beautiful. He continued saying it, over and over again, staring into her eyes as if to prove the statement, and she started to outright bawl. When it was over, he did not crush her under his body like so many had done so before and instead loosely held her against his chest, after placing a very platonic kiss on her waiting lips and leaving the breathy words, "I can't love you."

She remembers the anger that swelled in her chest that came after those words; how fast it left her exhausted body as quickly as it came. Her thoughts quickly shifted to her best friend, Franny Hudson, and the horror and regret that spread through her at the thought of the sweet, simple girl made Natalia sick.

She remembers the tears that led her to a restless sleep, and the self-loathing that instantly consumed her being.

When she woke up, Natalia could not look at Gwen without seeing Franny's bright and smiling face, and the image only became clearer when he also woke up. God, she hated herself more than anyone she hated before, and that was hard when one knew the extent of Natalia Puckerman's detestation.

She had taken her best friend's boyfriend's virginity because she was caught up in her selfishness, and just wanted an attractive playmate to blow some steam. She and Rodrigo had broken up, again, earlier that week due to something about money and boredom. Coach Sylvester had blatantly called her a cow and threatened to throw Natalia off the squad if she didn't lose the fat and additional weight. She was hurt, angry, and looking to either beat someone up or a good fuck. Obviously, she chose the latter.

Sitting on Gwen Fabray's bed, Natalia wishes she could turn back time and stop her idiotic self from ruining the perfect fairytale romance and the only stable, reliable friendship she currently has.

She jerks her head up, a small detail playing itself in her mind that would most likely lead to more trouble with everyone. Gwen, in is incapacitated state, did not have a condom. Natalia, anxious to start, reassured the blonde football player he did in fact have one on and didn't need to worry about silly little things like that.

"Oh my God," Natalia's voice cracks and she smacks her forehead against her bony knees, "can this get any worse?"

Too soon, her life had turned to ruins too soon. Next Monday, she'll have to meet with Franny, Rodrigo, and undoubtedly Gwen. This couldn't get any worse.

At least, that's what Natalia prayed for.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Just a head's up, not every character will be genderbent, Sue being an example. Each chapter will come with a new summary, and will most likely be connected loosely together. This is not a chaptered story; I want to remind everyone of that. Next one will most likely feature a fem!Kurt and fem!Finn. Yeah, it's gonna be awesome.