A/N: I really appreciate the response this got.. so I decided to go ahead with it.
It's got plot now, so.. expect angst.
The first seven chapters or so will be shorter and build up towards the bulk of the story.
This is the last chapter Quinn will be pregnant in, so if that isn't your thing, this is the end. I wouldn't have written this chapter with her pregnant if it didn't serve a purpose, because I know it's kind of weird to think of pregnant sex lol.
Also, not all of the chapters will be primarily focusing on Quinn's third person POV, there will be plenty from Brittany and Santana's too. I don't want anyone to get mad because I used the Santana/Brittany character tags and think I'm only going to write it with focus on Quinn.
And.. I want to be very clear: this is a story about the THREE of them being together, it's not a Brittana story, or Quinntana, or Quitt, even though there will be TONS of those pairings over the evolution of their relationship. So.. if you're in this for some epic Brittana, or even Quinntana, look elsewhere.
I hope everybody enjoys this, because I'm having too much fun writing it.
Quinn was having a shitty day.
She hadn't been able to fit into the last of her loose jeans today, and Puck's mom had started talking about letting her wear some of her clothes.
She looked like an oversized bag lady, because she was wearing a sundress that bunched up around her belly and was too short in the front. She needed to break down and buy clothes for pregnant women, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Somehow, that just made it feel too real. As it was, she felt like her body had been taken over by an alien invader and she would never get it back. Quinn resented herself, her baby, and the entire world on this day.
Not to mention the fact that she couldn't stop thinking about the encounter she had had with Brittany and Santana a few weeks before. Sometimes, when she lied in bed beside a snoring, stinking Puckerman and she couldn't sleep because her back ached and her hips hurt and her chest burned, she wondered if the experience had all been a dream. It had been so surreal and strangely perfect, and the fact that the other two girls had been so casual and cavalier about it only added to the sense that it was some kind of fantasy.
She wanted to do it again, and even though the desire should have scared her – or worried her, or alarmed her, or something – it didn't, and it was all she could think about. But Quinn didn't want to seem too.. eager. She didn't want to seem pathetic. Quinn saw the way that boys followed Brittany and Santana around, and she saw the way that the pair degraded and derided them. Quinn didn't want any part of that. It was too embarrassing, and even if she was pregnant, she still had some dignity to maintain.. it occurred to her that it mattered what Santana and Brittany thought about her, even though she wasn't sure that had been entirely true before their little escapade. She decided to not approach them about it again, even though her hormones were going crazy and she felt restless every day.
All of her resolve on the matter of avoiding the subject whenever possible quickly dissolved, however, when she came across Brittany later that day, after school let out.
The sight made Quinn stop in her tracks and then quickly backpedal, even though she couldn't tear her eyes away. Eventually, shock made her abruptly turn around in the hallway and then go in the opposite direction, and before she even knew where she was going, she pushed open the swinging door that separated the Cheerios locker room from the rest of the school.
Quinn was immediately hit with the smell of chlorine, sanitizer, and the sweet, moist aroma of various body washes and shampoos. Quinn regretted entering the locker room the second that she did, because it reminded her of everything she had lost. It also reminded her that if Sue Sylvester found her in here, she would probably have a shit fit.
Still, she was already there. Might as well do what she came here to do.
Quinn wasn't even sure what that was, exactly.
She found Santana in front of the wall of mirrors, brushing out her hair and pressing her lips together to even out a coat of lipstick. Santana had changed out of her Cheerios uniform and into a snug green dress with knee-high black boots. She glanced up, a little bit startled, when Quinn appeared in the reflection behind her, but her face immediately flashed on a smile.
"Hey, Q. Long time no see. Did you miss the place that bad?"
Quinn repressed the urge to roll her eyes and then asked, "Are you and Brittany having a fight?"
Santana frowned, sat her hairbrush down, and began affixing bobby pins to her hair. "No. Why?"
Quinn narrowed her eyes and then looked away from Santana. "I just saw her making out with Macy Greenberg in the hallway.."
Santana grimaced, and then began applying mascara. "She could pick hotter people.. but really, Brittany's like, addicted to kissing."
Hearing Santana say that made a flood of heat flash through Quinn's body. She couldn't help the way she shuddered, slightly, at the memory of Brittany's mouth locked onto hers. It made her muscles tighten and her spine straighten.
She took in Santana again, appraising, and then narrowed her eyes. "And you're going on a date with somebody..?"
Santana smiled. "Yep. Adam Townsend, the varsity basketball captain."
Quinn crossed her arms and frowned.
Santana glanced at her in the reflection of the mirror and then a giant grin broke out on her face. "Aw, Quinn. Are you jealous?"
It made Quinn's face darken with color, and she turned her head away. "No."
Santana chuckled, replaced the mascara wand, and then used her fingertips to pinch away the clumps. "You are." She said it as a simple statement, and left no room for argument. She turned around to face Quinn after wiping off the excess mascara on a piece of toilet paper. "I never would have taken you for the type to enjoy the lady lovin', Quinn. I must say. It's a bit of a surprise."
Quinn shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Santana's direct gaze. She didn't like the way her body was warm from embarrassment or the fact that just having Santana look at her that way made something tighten and loosen inside of her all at once.
"It doesn't surprise me about you," Quinn said, trying to sound annoyed but failing.
Santana didn't take the bait. She just lifted an eyebrow and then slowly pushed away from the edge of the counter. Quinn watched her nervously as she took a few leisurely steps, and then she froze when she felt Santana's breath on the back of her neck.
"I can't stop thinking about it, you know," Santana breathed. Quinn shivered and her whole body clenched. She swallowed and forced herself to breathe out of her nose. "I keep imagining fucking you like that.. it gets me wet." Quinn's eyes slammed shut and she let out a desperate, airy gasp when she felt Santana's lips just slightly graze the area behind her ear. She didn't even have to check to know that her panties were soaked, and it was just from Santana whispering. Santana smiled, her breath whooshed out on a small laugh, and then Quinn felt Santana's hand drag a hot trail down her spine, fingers touching along the ridges. It made her shudder.
"Shit," Quinn said, and bit her lip.
"Oooh, you like it," Santana said, and Quinn closed her eyes against the wave of humiliation that crashed down on her. She hated being so obvious about it. She might as well be a boy with a boner.
"Any time you want it, blondie," Santana said with a smirk, stepping back around Quinn. She was smiling and it made Quinn feel a little less mortified, because Santana's face was kind, even if she was giving Quinn a hard time. "But we'll probably need to wait until you're done cooking that thing."
Quinn frowned, puzzled. She subconsciously placed a palm flat against her belly, and looked at Santana. "Why? I sorta thought.. you know.. that you liked it."
Santana rolled her eyes but she was still smiling. "Sure, I think you're super sexy like that." She gave Quinn a full-body once over that made her blush. "I really dig your tits and ass. But I mean.." Santana trailed off and her expression changed, and something about it made Quinn's whole body feel paralyzed. "The way I want to fuck you.. it might break your kid or something." Santana's easy smile transformed into a smirk, because she knew she was completely in control of the situation and it delighted her, a little bit, to see Quinn Fabray so undone.
Quinn was blushing furiously now and she looked away from Santana. How did she do that? How could Santana make it feel like she was touching her, just by looking at her? Quinn had never felt anything like it before, and she realized her heart was pounding painfully in her chest. She cleared her throat, trying to distract herself. "Yeah, okay."
Santana tilted her head and threw one last smile at Quinn. "And don't sweat it too much about me and Britt doing our thing… we'll always make time for you. You're a fine piece of ass, Quinn Fabray." Santana said, and then she turned and walked away.
Quinn watched her go, the way she walked like she owned the earth and knew that nobody would ever challenge her for it. Quinn remembered what it was like to feel that way, how it was to be on top and feel invincible.
She didn't understand why, but her heart felt hollow and numb inside of her. Santana had only been honest; in fact, she had paid Quinn a compliment. Coming from someone like Santana, Quinn should be flattered.. especially if Santana still found her attractive, even like this.
Quinn didn't want to admit it, not aloud and not even silently to herself, but she had wanted Santana to consider her more than just a piece of ass.
Quinn should have known better. That's all she was, or ever would be, to anyone.
The next Friday was hard for Quinn. The weeks were crawling by, inching in closer and closer to her due date, and she was fighting constantly with Puck and everyone else, it felt like. There were days – more and more frequently, now – that she felt so alone she wondered if anyone would miss her if she suddenly disappeared. But Quinn knew those thoughts were pointless.. all she had to do was look down, and she realized she wasn't alone. She was never, ever alone.
Thoughts about what to do with her baby, with Puck, and with her life were constantly on her mind. She wondered when, if ever, she would start to feel maternal about the thing growing inside of her. She didn't. In fact, she felt the opposite of loving and maternal – she felt obligated and annoyed and angry. More than once, she wished.. well, she wished a lot of things, and dwelling on them was futile. Quinn had made her choice, and now she had to live with it.
Quinn knew she was going to give the baby up for adoption. Puck could nag and rant and argue all he wanted, but Quinn had known from the moment her situation changed – when her baby's dad went from being Finn Hudson to Noah Puckerman – that this baby would find another home, and (she hoped) her life would eventually go back to normal, or as normal as it could be.
Puck didn't like that idea, and he was too much of an idiot to see things her way. Puck's mom was worse. Quinn felt hounded every single day into agreeing to keep the baby, to give it Puck's last name, to stay and live with them and let Puck pretend to be a father to it. Quinn could just imagine how that would go. Puck would come home on the weekends, so shitfaced he could hardly stand, while Quinn was stuck covered in piss and shit and vomit, and her whole life would eventually spiral into a never-ending cycle of resentment and rage.
Quinn had enough resentment and rage now, before another person was in the picture; she couldn't imagine what would happen if she were the sole caregiver to a tiny human.
Quinn had read, somewhere, that stress was bad for the baby. Quinn wondered if all the stress in her body would result in her baby having a harelip or something. Her luck, it would come out with some kind of deformity and then no one would want it.
Still, despite the fact that her average, daily life was enough to drive most people to drink, Quinn considered herself a strong person. She made it to class every morning, regardless of the overwhelming nausea that crippled her even now, nearly into her eighth month of pregnancy. She continued making straight As, and she kept up with the glee club, learning how to dance and sing with the thirty extra pounds that clung between her ribs and hips and made her feel like a walking bus, and which made every movement more complicated. She tried to remain optimistic about herself and the future of her body, even though now her nipples were a weird brown color and were three times larger than they had been pre-pregnancy, and she couldn't imagine anyone ever finding her sexy again. She wondered if her belly button would ever go back to being normal, or if it would stay smoothed out forever.
It took a lot to trip up Quinn Fabray. She prided herself on that. Knocked up at sixteen? No sweat. Homeless and disowned? Not a big deal. Deprived of bacon products for the last two months? Okay, kind of a problem, but working through it.
The point was, Quinn was kind of like an indomitable force, and even if she had crazy, hormone-fueled rages once in a while, she was still probably the most even-tempered and level-headed person she knew.
That's why it made absolutely no sense that something so petty sent her into a chaos of blinding tears, incapacitating her beyond normal functions other than sitting and sobbing.
Quinn Fabray does not care about the plebein opinions of the mouth-breathers crawling the halls of McKinley, but all it took was one rude, off-the-cuff comment.. one sneer, one shitty little glare out of the corner of some nobody's self-righteous eye, and Quinn was stumbling through a haze of tears and searching for the first deserted classroom she could find. She barely made it into the empty chair before collapsed in a barrage of tears and choking gasps, her chest burning with all the shame and self-loathing that had been building for half a year, but that she'd never let herself fully indulge in.
Quinn stayed locked in that stuffy classroom for the rest of the day. She didn't know how long she cried, but her whole body felt wrung out and tortured by it. It had to be because she was retaining water or something, because Quinn seriously didn't think it was possible to cry for this long without dehydrating or passing out. Her head was cotton-y and her face was swollen, and every time she caught her breath, another freshet of tears would well up in her eyes and spill down her cheeks. It felt like, for a while, that the only thing that existed to Quinn was her own sadness, and it was huge enough to fill up the whole world.
Quinn startled when she heard the door push open, and she could only make out the blurry outline of Cheerios uniforms. It made her bury her hands in her face, unwilling to submit to the scrutiny of anyone she used to share space on the squad with.
"Quinn?" It was Brittany's voice.
"Britt-? Wha—" Santana stopped mid-sentence, and Quinn heard the door pushed open further. She heard the soft tapping noises of the pair of them stepping into the room, and the soft thud as the door fell against its frame.
The only sound in the room was Quinn sniffling and sobbing, and even though she hadn't been aware of it before the two of them entered, Quinn knew she was crying loudly. Her throat was hoarse and her lungs hurt from the strength of her crying. She felt shaky and weak, and still, she couldn't stop.
"Here, Q," Santana murmured, and Quinn felt Santana's soft, sure hands pulling at her hair, tugging it away from her face and then up in a sloppy ponytail. Quinn felt a rush of air against her hot, swollen cheeks and neck, and then Santana's hands began rubbing at her shoulders. They were soothing and strong, like Santana knew Quinn couldn't abide tentative or uncertain touches.
Then Quinn felt something against her face, and she peeked up to see Brittany wiping at the sopping puddle of tears with a paper towel. Quinn looked into Brittany's eyes and the unveiled kindness there made Quinn feel like her heart was splitting in half. She almost buried her face in her hands again, as her chest heaved and sobbed, but Brittany's fingers deftly caught her wrists and then, once Quinn had stopped struggling, Brittany continued to wipe at Quinn's face.
Quinn just watched Brittany, and gradually her tears dried up. She saw the way Brittany's eyes scanned over her face, and felt the gentle way Brittany pressed the paper towel against her cheeks and beneath her eyes, and underneath her nose. Santana's palms kept rubbing a persistent pressure against Quinn's shoulders, and then, before Quinn knew it, she wasn't crying anymore.
"God," Quinn said, even though it came out all stuffy and thick. "I'm a mess."
Brittany's face softened, though she didn't smile. Quinn felt a hot flare of embarrassment at being caught like this – a helpless, bawling mass – by the only two people that she still respected, and whose respect she craved. It made her feel weak and exposed. Just the thought of it was enough to make her cry again, but Brittany seemed to sense it – or maybe she just saw Quinn's face trembling again – and Brittany cupped Quinn's cheek with her palm, and it steadied her. Quinn sucked in a deep breath through her lips and then she let it out on a whoosh, and she tried to find that place inside of her that was untouchable.
Santana leaned down and pressed her cheek against Quinn's from behind, and Quinn felt everything inside of her unwind. It was almost like she found the calm within the storm, and even though it wasn't her own usual numbing place – it still gave her strength.
"Whose ass do I gotta kick?" Santana murmured, quietly against Quinn's face. The way she could feel Santana's jaw move and her lips tickle made Quinn smile, though blearily.
"Nobody. Crazy pregnant lady tears." Quinn offered with a shrug.
"Hmm." Santana straightened, her tone implying that she didn't quite believe Quinn. "Well, if it's Puck, then don't hesitate to let me know. He's been on my list for a while now. Just give me a reason."
Quinn's smile fully bloomed at that, and she let out a crackled laugh. Brittany was watching her with that open, inquiring face that made Quinn feel like Brittany saw and understood everything Quinn wasn't saying and was just waiting for Quinn to come clean about it. It should have made her uncomfortable, to have someone look at her with such scrutiny – but Brittany's face was warm and comforting, and she couldn't bring herself to draw up all her defenses just yet. She had been so broken just moments before, it would take her time to build her walls again.
"Let's get out of here," Santana said, and she felt Santana reach down and tug her hand. Quinn let herself be drawn up, and she noticed the way Brittany clutched her other hand, palm-to-palm, fingers cupping.
It made Quinn feel strange and wide open to have both of her hands clasped, because she couldn't shield her body with her arms. The three of them probably looked strange walking down the hallway, but now that school was out, there was only the occasional straggler to see. Quinn didn't protest when Santana led them to her car, but she did feel silly at the way Brittany opened the door for her and helped her settle down in the back seat.
Less than an hour later, Quinn found herself sitting in the middle of Santana's bed, and she was eating pizza off a styrofoam plate while Brittany took the old polish off her toenails.
Santana sat behind her, chewing on her own pieces of pizza. Neither of them had asked Quinn about the crying again, and she found herself desperately glad. She was puzzled and humiliated about her break down, and she wanted to completely forget about it.
Quinn hadn't been in this room since that night. It didn't look different. Santana still had clothes piled on the floor, she still had half-melted candles scattered on random surfaces, there were posters and lopsided pictures on the walls, and it smelled like a mixture of incense and Santana's perfume, and the acerbic smell of nail polish remover.
"Which color?" Brittany asked, holding up bottles in lime green and bright pink. Quinn blinked against the neon colors and her lips lifted in an amused smile.
Neither of them were colors she would ever pick for herself, but they were so flamboyantly Brittany, she couldn't help but find herself pleased at the choices. She tilted her head, deliberating, before she finally indicated the pink.
Brittany's face lit up in an excited grin and it made Quinn chuckle. She took the last bite of her olive-and-jalapeno pizza – Santana's favorite, and one that Quinn found particularly delicious now that she was pregnant – and watched Brittany carefully dab the tiny brush against the tip of the bottle before she clutched Quinn's big toe in her fingers. Quinn tried to stay still, because Brittany was concentrating so hard.
She turned her head and gave Santana a brief smile when Santana tugged the empty plate out of her hand. Santana stacked them on the dresser and she started unzipping her Cheerios top. Quinn watched her for a moment before she turned her face away, because she realized Santana intended to get all the way naked before she put on other clothes. She hoped nobody saw the way her eyes went wide, and she was pretty sure they didn't, but now her heart was pounding in her ribcage and she was sure that one of the two of them would hear it.
Santana came back to the bed and sat directly behind Quinn, scooting up until Quinn was nestled between Santana's thighs. Quinn swallowed and froze, feeling the blood rush to her head, and then she let out a puff of relieved air when she realized Santana just wanted to play with her hair.
It didn't stop her from noticing how incredibly warm Santana's crotch was against her lower back, but Quinn tried to ignore it and focus on Brittany, who had moved on the second foot by now.
"You have, like, the perfect hair," Santana said. Quinn closed her eyes and tried not to lean her head into the way Santana was running her fingers from root to tip, dragging out the movement.
"I think you like hair too much," Quinn replied.
Brittany huffed out a little chuckle, and she glanced up and caught Quinn's eye. They shared a smile and Quinn knew that Brittany had accused Santana of the same thing.
"Mm. I like hair in the right places," Santana said, and Quinn laughed nervously. She didn't fully understand what Santana was implying, but by Santana's tone, Quinn knew it was something dirty.
"Really though." Santana said after a moment, still weaving her fingers up and down Quinn's hair. It was making the muscles in Quinn's upper back and shoulders relax, and it started a slow buzz along the nerves in her skin. "It's the best texture. Britt's is really fine, like baby's hair."
"It breaks easily," Brittany offered. She was waving her hands over Quinn's toes, trying to get the nail polish to dry.
"Your hair is pretty, Brittany," Quinn said. "And yours is always so perfect," She added, turning her head to glance at Santana.
Santana used her fingertip to push Quinn's head back straight, and then she began to braid Quinn's hair with quick, sure motions. "You have no idea how much work I have to go through to get it to look even halfway decent."
Brittany smirked again, and Quinn wanted to find out why she was biting back a laugh. She nudged Brittany with her foot and it made Britt glance up. The second they made eye contact, Brittany cracked, and her laughter filled the room.
"What?" Quinn asked, smiling.
"Santana's hair looks like Mufasa's."
"Hey." Santana said, frowning over Quinn's shoulder at Brittany.
Brittany's face immediately fell into a playful pout. "It's cuuuute,"
"Ugh." Santana made a face, and Quinn felt her move to another lock of hair, weaving it back and forth. "Don't call me cute. And it's not cute. Nothing about it is cute. It's a disaster."
Quinn chuckled. "Really? I don't believe you."
Santana shook her head. "You should see it when it rains.."
Brittany made a motion with her hands around her head, indicating a height of hair that Quinn did not think possible.
"It does sometimes resemble an afro," Santana said, with exaggerated pain in her voice.
Quinn laughed.
"Yeah, yeah. Stupid white bitch with her perfect white hair," Santana said, but she was smiling and it reflected in her tone.
Quinn shrugged, and the smile drifted off her face. "It's one of the only things about myself that I can control anymore, so.. I try to make sure it looks good."
"Quinn." Santana said, and her tone was suddenly serious. It made Quinn perk up a little, even though she couldn't see Santana. "You're seriously beautiful, okay?"
Quinn rolled her eyes, even though her cheeks colored. "Yeah right. I'm huge."
Brittany shifted and then tugged Quinn's feet into her lap, and Quinn watched her as she started applying pressure with her thumbs into the meat of her foot. Quinn's head tugged gently as Santana worked to undo the braids.
"Pregnant or not, you're still pretty," Brittany said.
Quinn shrugged. "I don't feel pretty anymore."
Santana sighed, and then she shifted and Quinn didn't realize that Santana could be closer, but all the sudden she was, and now Quinn felt every part of Santana snugged behind her, again, but in an acutely different way than the last time. Santana slowly wrapped her arms around Quinn and she gave her a gentle squeeze, and a moment later Santana's head was resting on Quinn's shoulder.
They both watched Brittany massage Quinn's feet, and then Brittany moved to Quinn's calves.
Quinn wondered if she should feel awkward right now, but she realized that she didn't. Brittany and Santana were paying more attention to her than anyone had in months, and it was refreshing, even if it made her feel a little bit foolish to have them fuss over her like this.
Quinn let her mind drift, and she realized that she was gradually relaxing into Santana, and now her body was leaning into the other girl's, while Brittany progressively worked up Quinn's legs. Quinn slanted Brittany the occasional glance as Brittany nudged between her legs, sliding the material of her dress further upwards, but she'd always get distracted thinking about other things to worry too much about it.
"Quinn," Brittany said suddenly. It made Quinn snap her gaze towards Brittany, who was staring at the juncture between her legs with a look of astonishment on her face. Quinn tensed, alarmed, and she was a moment away from closing her legs when she felt Santana's arms tighten around her. "Are you wet?" Brittany asked, a little bit incredulous.
"Uh.." Quinn gulped a swallow and shifted her face away from Brittany, her cheeks burning. She felt Santana's chest rise and fall on a little chuckle, and now Quinn was mortified. "It's not really that.. umm." Quinn sucked in a breath and tried to find her voice. "It's just something that happens…" Quinn looked around the room, desperately. "…because of the baby."
She felt Santana shake her head. "That's one raunchy baby, Q," Santana teased.
Quinn didn't think it was possible to be more humiliated.
"Why are you looking at my crotch anyway?" Quinn snapped, and she tried to close her legs and lean away from Santana. But Brittany didn't move and Santana didn't loosen her grip around Quinn's torso, and being pregnant meant she couldn't do much in the way of struggle.
Brittany smiled, scrunching her nose. "It was right there. I mean, anyone would have noticed."
Quinn rolled her eyes. "Yeah well, now that we've all had amusement at my expense.. can I please go?"
Brittany's face dropped, and Quinn – even though she was drowning in shame – felt the slightest pang of guilt at being responsible for it. "Do you really want to?"
"Uhh.." Quinn wasn't sure now. She bit her lip and looked around, uncertain.
"You should just let her do it," Santana said, and Quinn could still hear the amusement in her voice. "She's been wanting to for years."
"Do what?" Quinn asked, and she couldn't help the way her voice got higher.
"Kiss you." Brittany said, and she smirked a deviant little smirk.
It made Quinn's insides twist and tighten, and her heart skipped a beat.
"Uhh…" Quinn repeated. She couldn't think straight. "I don't think so, Britt."
Brittany's face fell again.
"Aww, look at her," Santana said, her voice low. Quinn felt goosebumps leap out of her skin at the way Santana shifted until their faces were pressed together again, her lips moving a hair away from Quinn's shoulders.
"Brittany." Quinn said, after swallowing the butterflies that were bouncing around inside of her. "I'm pregnant.. like really pregnant. I don't know if it's appropriate.. or if it'll be comfortable.. or.."
"Those are lame excuses, Quinn," Santana said dismissively. "We don't care that you're pregnant. You're still sexy to us."
"You're still just as pretty to us," Brittany corrected with a stern look at Santana.
"I thought you said.. we'd need to wait," Quinn managed, her voice scratchy and squeaky. She was having the hardest time concentrating because Santana was doing this thing with her legs, where she kept tightening and releasing them against Quinn, and Quinn could feel the muscles bunching against her hips and back.
"I said we'd need to wait," Santana clarified, even though it left Quinn a little confused. "The two of you don't need to. Britt's not rough like me."
"I can be," Brittany admitted, a line forming between her eyebrows.
"You won't be, though," Santana said, and Brittany nodded.
"Oh, God," Quinn huffed. She thought these little conversations between the two of them were clear indications that there was something entirely wrong with the whole setup. What kind of people talked like this before sex?
"What do you say, Q?" Santana asked, gently.
Quinn bit her lip and looked at Brittany uneasily.
Brittany's eyebrows wrinkled and she looked from between Quinn's legs, up to Quinn's face, and then back again. "I don't see what the big deal is.. you're like a beautiful snowflake, you know?"
Quinn did not know. She shook her head.
Brittany frowned deeper. "It's just that you're unique from anyone else, and even if you're bigger or smaller or an alien or a zombie, you're still you, and it's you that I want to kiss. I don't see what anything else has to do with it.." Brittany trailed off.
Santana let out a little laugh, her chest bobbing against Quinn's back. "You have to let her now. That was too adorable."
Quinn agreed, even though she still felt insanely self-conscious about it. "Turn the lights off," She whispered, and she swallowed the way her heart was beating a harsh staccato in her chest, and how nerves jangled and clanged along her palms, making her shift uncomfortably.
Brittany stood up and walked over to flip off the overhead light. It turned the room gloomy, but not entirely dark, because it was only evening and so faint light streamed in from outside. Quinn wanted to tell Brittany to close the curtains, too – but she felt vulnerable revealing how particularly insecure she was. She just watched with growing anxiety as Brittany stripped out of her Cheerios uniform, down to her bra and underwear.
"Do you want me to..?" Quinn gestured to the bed, to the pillows beside Santana and the empty space.
Santana shook her head, and Quinn felt Santana's hair against her cheek and neck. "No, we're staying like this."
Brittany crawled up the bed and Quinn closed her eyes, fighting back the apprehension she felt the closer Brittany got. Her heart was hammering and her blood was pounding in her veins, making her skin heat up and sweat break out in the creases of her body, like at the insides of her elbows and knees.
"Just relax." Santana said, gently, and then she began rubbing the flat of her palms up and down Quinn's arms. Quinn reluctantly let her head fall back until it was resting on Santana's shoulder, and she tried to even out her breathing.
Brittany slipped her fingers up Quinn's dress, and then she was drawing down Quinn's underwear. Quinn felt it stick to the insides of her thighs and she bit her lip, glad that the shadows hid the way her face was burning.
The bed shifted and they were more reclined, and it made Quinn's breath hitch in her throat because she was leaning even more heavily into Santana, and she was worried, because she knew that she was bulky and Santana was the smallest of the three of them. It made her uncomfortable to think she might be squashing her.
But Santana didn't struggle to breathe or move around, and eventually Quinn let her neck muscles relax and she tilted to hide her face in the crook of Santana's neck. Santana kept rubbing her palms lazily up and down Quinn's arms, and the motion was soothing.
Brittany knelt between Quinn's legs, and she was sliding her thumbs over the inside of Quinn's thighs. Quinn felt the bed shift and dip as Brittany wiggled onto her belly, and every muscle in Quinn's body tensed when she realized Brittany's head was now between her legs.
Quinn felt completely paralyzed as Brittany used one finger to stroke against her wetness, parting the lips. Quinn could feel Brittany's faint breaths and, despite herself and how utterly unattractive and painfully awkward she felt, her insides were tightening and she felt like her nerves were fraying on the edges.
"It's pretty," Brittany said. Quinn couldn't see her face, but she knew Santana was smiling down at Brittany. "Your kitty is pretty."
"Oh, my God," Quinn let out on a breath. Santana laughed behind her, and Quinn didn't really blame her. If it wasn't so personal, Quinn was sure that she'd laugh, too.
Quinn didn't have time to think of a response, other than the instant mortification she felt, because Brittany was dipping her head between Quinn's legs and then she felt Brittany's lips kiss against her.
Quinn didn't expect it to feel like it did. She hadn't known what to expect, but it was a gentle and soft feeling, and yet it somehow made everything inside of her ignite into a crazy, maddening fire. Her throat clenched around a strangled sound and she pressed her face even harder into Santana, her fists closing around Santana's knees on either side of her. A whimper slipped out when she felt Brittany draw back and then kiss again, this time firmer, and still with just her lips. She lingered there, kissing the flesh that hid Quinn's clit, and the subtle pressure was delicious and gnawing.
Quinn was slightly startled when she felt Santana's hand wrap around her hair, gently drawing her face back, and then she was swallowed up in the sensation of kissing as Santana's mouth descended on and completely devoured her own. Quinn didn't have time to breathe – the air was frozen and strangled in her lungs – she didn't have time to think, she could only react. And Santana was kissing her the way she had before, with sharp nips of teeth against her lips, her tongue demanding and forceful, little vibrations that were like grunts or growls sounding deep in her throat. Quinn's face immediately felt hot and swollen, because within moments Santana had worked their level of kissing up from passionate to furious.
Santana's mouth caught the shocked, broken gasp when Brittany finally lapped her tongue against Quinn. Her whole body arched into Santana, and Santana's hand tightened in her hair. Quinn's chest panted with the effort to breathe, but Santana was relentless, drawing back for only a split second before she was kissing her again.
Brittany ran the flat of her tongue against the outside of Quinn's lower lips, before she slowly slid further in and her tongue immediately found Quinn's clit. Quinn moaned and finally turned away from Santana, because her head was spinning and she was dizzy and breathless, and she couldn't keep up anymore. Santana immediately pressed her lips against Quinn's neck, and she sucked with a wet, hungry mouth at Quinn's hammering pulse point.
"Oh, fuck, fuck," Quinn panted, squeezing her fists and pressing them against Santana's knees. Brittany's tongue was soothing and gentle, but she kept working it over Quinn's nub, and it made Quinn's entire lower half tighten and pound with her heartbeat. She felt so swollen and hot and wet, and Brittany's tongue was slippery and soft and it was probably one of the most amazing things she had ever experienced.
It contrasted brutally with the way Santana was attacking Quinn's neck, using the one hand gripping Quinn's head to lean and tilt it, giving Santana access to all the dips and hollows. She continuously sucked and nipped, and every time Santana's tongue found a new spot, Quinn bit back a whine and a whimper. She was rocking her hips, now, as best she could, because the pressure inside of her was building rapidly.
Quinn couldn't help the way she yelped when Santana suddenly licked the shell of her ear, the flash of heat followed by the feel of Santana's breath as she whispered, "You're so fucking hot,"
Quinn shuddered and rolled her hips, biting back a groan. Brittany was teasing her, pulling back the second she sensed Quinn was close to toppling, and she'd apply soft, gentle kisses against the inside of Quinn's thighs.
"Oh, God, Brittany," Quinn sobbed, after she had come so close to tipping over the edge, and then Brittany pulled away, pecking against the outside of Quinn and along her legs. She shifted, writhing against the bed, pressing hard into Santana and the mattress.
"Stop teasing her, Britt," Santana whispered, before she pulled Quinn's face back towards hers for another kiss.
Abruptly, Quinn felt Brittany's mouth close over the entirety of her clit, and that sensation alone made her squeak and jolt, but then Brittany began to suck, and Quinn was shuddering and sobbing out incoherent, mindless things. Her body worked wildly against Brittany, and everything inside of her twisted and clenched until she was hanging, motionless, for a long instant. Brittany sucked harder and flicked her tongue over Quinn's clit and it sent her crashing, trembling and quivering, her legs shaking. Quinn hid her face against Santana again, her breaths exploding from between her lips and her arms clutching desperately for anything to hold onto. This time, as she slowly came down, it was Santana's arms that circled her and held her.
Brittany pulled back and kissed against Quinn's thighs gently, waiting for the tremors to quiet before she shifted fully away. Quinn's legs slid lifelessly against the bed, and she stirred when she felt Santana sliding beneath her.
She did it so deftly that Quinn wasn't sure entirely how it happened. One moment Santana was cradling her against her body, and the next, Quinn was lying flat on a pillow, and Santana was snaking over her towards Brittany.
She watched as, in a blur and a flash, Santana's pajamas were discarded. The two of them were kissing in a frenzy, and Quinn could almost taste the lust in the air. She was rapt, as always, watching Santana kiss Brittany, her hands running over every inch of Brittany's skin, while Brittany just clutched her hands in Santana's hair and held on, like Santana was a force of nature and Brittany had no choice but to go along with it.
They were both kneeling on the bed in their underwear, and Santana was sliding her hands along Brittany's ribs and hips, around her back, down to her ass, and back up again. Their kissing was making thick, moist noises in the silence of the room, and just watching them was making Quinn heat up again.
"Off. Take it off." Santana muttered against Brittany. She kept darting her hands up behind Brittany's back, trying to undo her bra clasp, but Brittany would shake her head and pull away until Santana became distracted with kissing again.
"Britt." Santana whined, and Quinn saw the way Santana's hands were groping more desperately. "I need to feel you."
Brittany slowly peeled herself away from Santana, and she gave her a heavy, lidded look. Santana was panting and her hair was a mess, and her lips were swollen and red.
"Lay down." Brittany said.
Santana bit her lip, and Quinn could tell she was struggling with indecision. Quinn had no idea what it was about, but she got the feeling that this was something the two of them had struggled over before.
"Brittany.." Santana whined again, but Brittany just shook her head and used her palms to gently push Santana down flat against the mattress.
Quinn laid on the bed and just watched, unable to look away, and feeling like she couldn't join because she hadn't been asked.
Santana watched as Brittany slowly unhooked her bra, keeping her eyes glued to Santana's face. Quinn heard Santana's breath hitch in her throat when Brittany slowly slid her panties down, and then she was naked. Santana moved to pull Brittany on top of her, but Brittany stayed out of reach, dodging Santana's seeking hands. Santana huffed in frustration and jerked her hips up when Brittany reached down to remove her own underwear.
Santana curled up and undid her own bra, tossing it on the floor. She flopped back down on the mattress, almost in defeat, spreading her arms out and giving Brittany a pointed, albeit annoyed, look.
Brittany flashed a triumphant grin at Santana, and then she slid on top of her, pressing their bodies flush together.
They kissed for many long minutes, and Quinn was starting to feel that uncomfortable, intruding feeling she got the last time this happened.. she felt excluded, and worse, like a pervert, because watching the pair of them kiss naked was more arousing than she ever thought possible.
Brittany's hand drifted down Santana's body, and their kiss broke when Santana groaned, because Brittany was drawing up one of Santana's thighs until her foot was resting flat against the bed.
"Oh, God, Britt," Santana groaned, rolling her hips. She clenched her eyes shut and lifted her arms to press her palms into the dip of her eyes, biting back another moan when she felt Brittany shift and adjust between her legs.
Quinn had no idea what was going on. She didn't have a good view of it, because it was dark, and Santana's raised leg blocked most of it. But she could see Brittany shifting, and then they both let out long, loud, breathy moans when Brittany rocked a deliberate and steady motion against Santana.
Quinn's heart went from sedated to racing in less than a second. Her eyes grew wide and she stared with a mixture of shock and disbelief as Brittany rocked again, making them both grunt. Then Brittany was picking up speed, rolling her hips into Santana until it was just a flurry of motion, and the pair of them were sobbing out desperate sounds, filling up the air with slick, wet noises.
Quinn squeezed her thighs together and tried to ignore the way her insides trembled, looking up from the area where their hips were pressed against each other and then to Brittany's face. Santana was still hiding behind her palms, and Quinn could see that she had her bottom lip trapped firmly between her teeth.
Quinn could sense Brittany's breathing change, and her own body tensed in anticipation.
Brittany lifted up and used her hand to tug Santana's arms away from her face. Santana's eyes were still clenched tightly shut, and Brittany slowed down her pace until Santana was whimpering and thrashing, pushing against Brittany and grinding desperately.
"Look at me," Brittany whispered. Santana turned her head, on the pillow, and Quinn could see her swallow. "Santana," Brittany said softly, using the palm of her hand to tilt Santana's head back upwards. "Look at me."
Slowly, Santana opened her eyes, and Quinn had no idea what Brittany saw there. She was too far away, and the angle wasn't right, but it made her heart twist and drop nonetheless. She huddled into herself and pressed the palm of her hand against her lips, to stop herself from making any noise, terrified that it might interrupt or disturb them.
With her eyes locked onto Santana's, Brittany sped up again, and Santana's breath hitched unevenly. Quinn could see Santana struggle against the urge to close her eyes, because her eyelids kept fluttering.
Santana could only withstand it for a few moments before she drew her arms up around Brittany and pulled Brittany down, flush against her, hugging her tightly and pressing her face into Brittany's shoulder. Quinn could see Santana's body shudder and tremble, and a second later Brittany let out a thin, whining cry, her hips writhing and thrusting haphazardly into Santana. Santana began thrashing, too, and her cries were muffled against Brittany's shoulder.
It looked like it took forever for them to stop moving. Quinn was squirming uncomfortably on the bed by the time they finally did, and she could still hear their loud breaths and see the way their ribs expanded and collapsed rhythmically against one another.
Santana couldn't stop trembling. Her arms were wrapped around Brittany in a vice-grip, and when Brittany tried to pull away, Santana made a small, high-pitched noise and burrowed harder against her.
Quinn knew that whatever Santana was feeling was overwhelming.. and she quickly rolled over, facing away from them.
Quinn wondered what it would be like, to love someone the way Santana loved Brittany, or to be loved by someone like that. Even if she had never heard them say it to each other, Quinn knew it was true. It made her heart hurt for peculiar, unnamed reasons.
Quinn heard Santana whisper, hoarsely, in Spanish, and Brittany hummed and the bed shifted and moved. Quinn wished she could see what they were doing. She imagined Brittany was kissing Santana's face, because she liked to do that. She wondered if Santana was crying.
It felt like ages, but it was probably only a few moments, before Quinn felt Brittany's weight settle behind her. "Come here, Quinn," Brittany said quietly.
Slowly, reluctantly, Quinn rolled over, and was surprised to see Santana next to her, instead of Brittany. Santana had her back to Quinn, with her face buried against Brittany's neck. Brittany faced Quinn and she reached out, tugging at Quinn until she scooted closer to Santana.
Quinn didn't get as close to Santana as Brittany would have liked, Quinn was sure, both because of her giant baby belly and because Santana was still trembling, and Quinn didn't know how to deal with that. Santana was always so strong.. so fierce and wild and angry. Quinn didn't know how to deal with a shivering, undone Santana, who clutched at Brittany and continued to murmur broken Spanish into the cusp of Brittany's neck.
Quinn slid tentatively until her lower body was pressed against Santana's, and Santana immediately lifted her legs so that Quinn's feet could entwine with hers. Gently, Quinn rested a hand against Santana's side, on her ribs, and she figured that was the best she could do. She glanced up, meeting Brittany's gaze, and even though Quinn had a swarm of conflicting emotions running through her, she couldn't help but smile back when Brittany smiled into her eyes.
Brittany lifted her hand and cupped Quinn's cheek, resting it there, before she drifted it upwards to smooth back Quinn's hair. It was a gentle, caring motion. Almost loving.
Quinn fell asleep this time trying to puzzle out what it meant, if anything, and why her mind couldn't get over the idea that her two best friends were in love with each other, and that possibly she was falling in love with them.
I do fun stuff on Tumblr sometimes, like post previews of the next chapters. So… you can follow me if you want. missmandamargo dot tumblr dot com.
Review? I'd appreciate it. :)
