Fic: Blacked Out Blur - 2/? (Santana/Quinn/Rachel)
Title:Blacked Out Blur (2/?)
Author: an_an0maly / prettylittlelea
Summary: It’s another Friday night, but not like one any of them have had before.
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn/Santana
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Everything up to and including S3 is fair game, except Finchel aren't together.
Word Count: 10,000+ (currently)
Disclaimer: I, sadly, own nothing.
Author’s Note: I know this has probably already been done, but I thought I’d have a crack at it anyway. Based on Katy Perry's "Last Friday Night (TGIF)".
2/? - Fair Maiden Mine
11:53am Saturday
Trying valiantly to breathe through her nose, while desperately hoping not to make too much noise as to wake her two companions, Rachel’s eyes shifted around the small room. She tried to assess the situation through the throbbing pain behind her eyes and the churning of her stomach. Looking up, she squinted as caught sight of the ends of hanging clothes: skirts, tops, sweater vests, a pant-suit.
Oh.
She could, at the very least, count herself lucky. At least she was inside her own closet and not someone else’s. Rachel mentally congratulated herself for not panicking on waking up in a foreign location. Taking a small breath, her brow furrowed in confusion as she slowly looked from her left to her right. Making sure not to make too many sudden movements, Rachel determinedly searched the floor of her closet for her shoes. They were always perfectly lined up at the base of her closet, but if she was at the base of the closet, then where were her shoes?
The body on Rachel’s left shifted and rolled onto its side, right arm flinging up and over her sleeping head to rest across Rachel’s legs. An elbow now dug into Rachel’s stomach. Holding her breath and willing her body not to move, Rachel waited anxiously for either of her companions to wake.
Thirty seconds ticked by before Rachel slowly let her held breath leave her lungs. Ticking off a mental ‘to-do’ list, Rachel calmed her beating heart, slowed her breathing, and reminded herself of her current location. Now all that was left was to figure out what to do about her hand wedged between Quinn Fabray’s bare legs, and Santana Lopez’s head buried in her equally naked lap.
~*~*~
8:53pm Friday - 15 Hours Earlier
Rachel was thankful the Flat Cap meeting had only run over time by fifteen minutes. Her dads may have agreed to her hosting this month’s meeting, but were adamant that visitors and friends were to vacate the premises well before 9pm. Picking up the last bowl of fried gourd - Rachel always insisted their meetings be authentic in dress and snack food - she carefully carried it to the kitchen, where a take-out container was ready to be filled with the left overs.
Glancing at the clock hanging above the microwave, Rachel smiled and mentally patted herself on the back. She’d managed to clean up the lounge room, put away the food and wipe down the kitchen all before her father’s scheduled text. She did a little hop and a skip in her navy blue dress as she reached for her vibrating phone on the kitchen counter top. Quickly replying to her fathers’ text, she excitedly made her toward the front stairs, ready to change into her pajamas and settle in for the rest of the evening.
Rachel had just placed her foot on the first step when the sound of the doorbell buzzing three times in quick succession halted her ascent. Rachel curiously pressed herself up against the front door and peeked through the peep hole. Frowning, she spied Noah Puckerman and Mike Chang shuffling their feet on her doorstep. Swinging the door open, Rachel opened her mouth ready to question the boys’ impromptu visit when she was suddenly pushed aside by a rolling silver keg of beer.
“Noah Puckerman!” Rachel screeched as she stamped her foot and began to swing her front door closed.
“Yo! Thanks for the location, Rach!” Puck called back with a wave over his head as Mike shouldered the door gently to stop Rachel from closing it on him. He quickly made his way through the entrance carrying a box of cables and a couple of iPods. “Thanks, Rach,” Mike offered her with a grin. “Your stereo through here?” He asked as he tilted his head toward the lounge room.
Confused by their intrusion, Rachel stood stunned and nodded her head at Mike while trying to gather her wits about her. She wasn’t sure what to yell at Puck about first: rolling the keg over her pristine carpet, his sudden uninvited intrusion or the fact he’d seen fit to greet her with a ‘yo’. “What are you two even - ” she managed to get out, swinging the door closed again before it was shoved open and she had to quickly jump back before being hit in the face by the swinging door.
“Can it, Berry,” Santana snapped as she glanced around the Berry’s home. She let her eyes rake over Rachel’s body and her nose scrunched up in obvious disgust. “What the hell are you even wearing?”
Rachel swallowed a lump in her throat and glanced down at her dress. Determined not to let Santana get the better of her in her own home, she crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her chin up at Santana. “I implore you to leave my dwelling this instant!” Rachel demanded, pointing at her open front door, barely taking note of the dozen or so people slipping into her house behind Santana, some of them fellow members of the glee club.
“Are you dressed… as a wench?” Quinn’s voice suddenly asked from beside Rachel’s shoulder causing the shorter brunette to take a step back in fright at Quinn’s sudden appearance. Confused hazel eyes roamed over her body, and Rachel couldn’t stop her hands from smoothing down the front of her dress, tugging gently on the material. “I’m a Fair Maiden,” she replied with a tad uncertainty in her tone.
A snort and short peal of laughter escaped Santana before she pushed Rachel aside and began heading up the stairs. “Come on Virgin Mary, let’s slut you up,” she called out and she waved her hand over her shoulder, signalling for Rachel to follow behind her.
Rachel turned away from the stairs and opened her mouth to protest, but Quinn’s hand on the banister, her looming presence and raised eyebrow caused Rachel to stumble backwards, almost tripping on the bottom step. She quickly gathered the bottom of her skirt and petticoat and trudged begrudgingly up the stairs, the heat of Quinn’s body following closely behind.
Author: an_an0maly / prettylittlelea
Summary: It’s another Friday night, but not like one any of them have had before.
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn/Santana
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Everything up to and including S3 is fair game, except Finchel aren't together.
Word Count: 10,000+ (currently)
Disclaimer: I, sadly, own nothing.
Author’s Note: I know this has probably already been done, but I thought I’d have a crack at it anyway. Based on Katy Perry's "Last Friday Night (TGIF)".
2/? - Fair Maiden Mine
11:53am Saturday
Trying valiantly to breathe through her nose, while desperately hoping not to make too much noise as to wake her two companions, Rachel’s eyes shifted around the small room. She tried to assess the situation through the throbbing pain behind her eyes and the churning of her stomach. Looking up, she squinted as caught sight of the ends of hanging clothes: skirts, tops, sweater vests, a pant-suit.
Oh.
She could, at the very least, count herself lucky. At least she was inside her own closet and not someone else’s. Rachel mentally congratulated herself for not panicking on waking up in a foreign location. Taking a small breath, her brow furrowed in confusion as she slowly looked from her left to her right. Making sure not to make too many sudden movements, Rachel determinedly searched the floor of her closet for her shoes. They were always perfectly lined up at the base of her closet, but if she was at the base of the closet, then where were her shoes?
The body on Rachel’s left shifted and rolled onto its side, right arm flinging up and over her sleeping head to rest across Rachel’s legs. An elbow now dug into Rachel’s stomach. Holding her breath and willing her body not to move, Rachel waited anxiously for either of her companions to wake.
Thirty seconds ticked by before Rachel slowly let her held breath leave her lungs. Ticking off a mental ‘to-do’ list, Rachel calmed her beating heart, slowed her breathing, and reminded herself of her current location. Now all that was left was to figure out what to do about her hand wedged between Quinn Fabray’s bare legs, and Santana Lopez’s head buried in her equally naked lap.
~*~*~
8:53pm Friday - 15 Hours Earlier
Rachel was thankful the Flat Cap meeting had only run over time by fifteen minutes. Her dads may have agreed to her hosting this month’s meeting, but were adamant that visitors and friends were to vacate the premises well before 9pm. Picking up the last bowl of fried gourd - Rachel always insisted their meetings be authentic in dress and snack food - she carefully carried it to the kitchen, where a take-out container was ready to be filled with the left overs.
Glancing at the clock hanging above the microwave, Rachel smiled and mentally patted herself on the back. She’d managed to clean up the lounge room, put away the food and wipe down the kitchen all before her father’s scheduled text. She did a little hop and a skip in her navy blue dress as she reached for her vibrating phone on the kitchen counter top. Quickly replying to her fathers’ text, she excitedly made her toward the front stairs, ready to change into her pajamas and settle in for the rest of the evening.
Rachel had just placed her foot on the first step when the sound of the doorbell buzzing three times in quick succession halted her ascent. Rachel curiously pressed herself up against the front door and peeked through the peep hole. Frowning, she spied Noah Puckerman and Mike Chang shuffling their feet on her doorstep. Swinging the door open, Rachel opened her mouth ready to question the boys’ impromptu visit when she was suddenly pushed aside by a rolling silver keg of beer.
“Noah Puckerman!” Rachel screeched as she stamped her foot and began to swing her front door closed.
“Yo! Thanks for the location, Rach!” Puck called back with a wave over his head as Mike shouldered the door gently to stop Rachel from closing it on him. He quickly made his way through the entrance carrying a box of cables and a couple of iPods. “Thanks, Rach,” Mike offered her with a grin. “Your stereo through here?” He asked as he tilted his head toward the lounge room.
Confused by their intrusion, Rachel stood stunned and nodded her head at Mike while trying to gather her wits about her. She wasn’t sure what to yell at Puck about first: rolling the keg over her pristine carpet, his sudden uninvited intrusion or the fact he’d seen fit to greet her with a ‘yo’. “What are you two even - ” she managed to get out, swinging the door closed again before it was shoved open and she had to quickly jump back before being hit in the face by the swinging door.
“Can it, Berry,” Santana snapped as she glanced around the Berry’s home. She let her eyes rake over Rachel’s body and her nose scrunched up in obvious disgust. “What the hell are you even wearing?”
Rachel swallowed a lump in her throat and glanced down at her dress. Determined not to let Santana get the better of her in her own home, she crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her chin up at Santana. “I implore you to leave my dwelling this instant!” Rachel demanded, pointing at her open front door, barely taking note of the dozen or so people slipping into her house behind Santana, some of them fellow members of the glee club.
“Are you dressed… as a wench?” Quinn’s voice suddenly asked from beside Rachel’s shoulder causing the shorter brunette to take a step back in fright at Quinn’s sudden appearance. Confused hazel eyes roamed over her body, and Rachel couldn’t stop her hands from smoothing down the front of her dress, tugging gently on the material. “I’m a Fair Maiden,” she replied with a tad uncertainty in her tone.
A snort and short peal of laughter escaped Santana before she pushed Rachel aside and began heading up the stairs. “Come on Virgin Mary, let’s slut you up,” she called out and she waved her hand over her shoulder, signalling for Rachel to follow behind her.
Rachel turned away from the stairs and opened her mouth to protest, but Quinn’s hand on the banister, her looming presence and raised eyebrow caused Rachel to stumble backwards, almost tripping on the bottom step. She quickly gathered the bottom of her skirt and petticoat and trudged begrudgingly up the stairs, the heat of Quinn’s body following closely behind.