She's Got My Heart [4/?]
Title: She's Got My Heart
Author: gabbie217 & bloodxfuck
Rating: R/NC-17
Pairings: Rachel/Brittany/Santana; Quinn/Finn; Eventual Rachel/Brittany/Santana/Quinn
Summary: Quinn's world and sexuality are turned upside down when three damaged foster-home girls enter her life. Can she save them?
Spoiler Alert: None. AU.
Author's Note: This was written in an RP so it may be rough. And sexytimes will happen so be warned.
Santana gave a quiet gasp when Rachel pulled her into the closet. It was cramped and not really designed to fit three people, so Santana's hip was flush against Rachel's stomach and Brittany was pressed into her side. Turning her head, Santana smiled and leaned in to kiss Brittany, sliding her tongue across her bottom lip.
Shivering, Brittany automatically opened her mouth and granted Santana access. She threaded one hand into the Latina's hair to pull her closer-if possible. The other reached around to hold onto Rachel.
Taking out her pent up jealousy, Rachel began working on Santana's neck and chest. She clamped her teeth down on Santana's skin and applied pressure. She swiped her tongue across the flesh before sucking. Santana was hers. Brittany was hers.
While her mouth was busy, Rachel's hands slid teasingly up Santana's thigh. She let out a moan when her fingers arrived at where the Latina's legs met. "Are you wet baby?"
Santana gasped against Brittany's mouth, tilting her head back as her muscles fluttered under Rachel's touch. "Mhm," she moaned, low and long because nothing made her hotter than when Rachel talked like that. Her hands needed something to do, so Santana slid one under Brittany's shirt and kneaded her palm against her toned stomach.
"Who're you wet for baby? Huh? Who gets you hot?" Rachel growled. Satisfied with the soon-to-be dark hickey. She rubbed through Santana's jeans, tilting her head so she could find the sensitive part of Santana's neck.
A hum bubbled up from the depths of Brittany's stomach as Santana dragged her hand across her skin. She greedily fixed her lips to Santana's again, fisting the dark locks even tighter in her hand. She couldn't get enough of her fiery girlfriend.
"You do," Santana said lustily, her voice rough. She pushed her hand further up Brittany's shirt and fumbled with it, trying to pull it off the blonde. At the same time she pushed up against Rachel, her body just doing what came natural with the girls she loved.
Brittany helped removed her shirt and then worked on getting Santana shirtless-again.
"That's right," Rachel said approvingly. She unsnapped Santana's jeans and smiled giddily. She loved it when her fingers were buried deep within her girlfriends. "You're mine," Rachel said before sliding her hand into Santana's underwear. Three of her fingers slid along the folds of Santana's sex before plunging into her. "All mine," she purred as the wetness of Santana coated her fingers, allowing her to slide in and out easily.
Once the borrowed grey shirt was off Santana, Brittany licked her lips. She coasted her hands along Santana's abs. They then travelled up to cup Santana's breasts. Brittany used her thumb to massage through the bra and her mouth to mark the side of Santana's neck.
Santana couldn't breathe from the ecstasy of being touched. Rachel and Brittany were the only people in the world who could make her feel this way. Her hips started rocking against Rachel's hand, trying to fuck herself even harder with her girlfriend's fingers. Santana knotted her hand in Brittany's hair and pulled her head up so she could suck her bottom lip into her mouth, teeth gently burrowing into the soft flesh.
Whining, Brittany's eyes fluttered shut. She loved hearing the smacking sounds of fingers pumping in and out of a pussy. And she loved feeling the sharpness of Santana's teeth. Brittany rubbed herself against Santana, desperately needing friction on her aching center.
Rachel smirked as Santana's hips began rocking more frantically. "You like that baby? You like riding my fingers, don't you?" Rachel leaned up to whisper in Santana's ear. "I bet you love being fucked by my fingers. Isn't that right?"
Squirming, Santana's breath started coming in pants. She was close to the edge at this point. She reached down and laid her hand over Rachel's through the friction of her jeans. She pushed back against Brittany, losing her mind from Rachel's fingers inside her.
Rachel drove her fingers as fast as she could, pressing her thumb against the swollen and needy nud of Santana's clit. The Latina gasped and her hips gave a short buck as her toes tried to curl in her boots. Rachel felt a thrill as she stepped closer and Santana's thigh rubbed on her own. Rachel positioned herself, and lost in her own need, began dry humping the slender thigh.
Groaning as Santana ground up on her, Brittany freed her hands to grasp Santana's waist for better leverage. She gyrated her hips, and threw her head back in ecstasy.
A whine started in the back of Santana's throat as Rachel fucked her harder, fingers drilling deep. She was moments away from coming, she just needed something to shove her over that last rise. She reached out and grabbed Rachel by the waist, digging her fingers into her girlfriend's soft skin as she slid her own hand under Rachel's skirt-short for easier access-and found the warmth of her panties.
Shuddering as her dripping sex was touched through her panties, Rachel looked straight at Santana without breaking her tempo. "I wants to come on your fingers. And I wants to do it now!" Rachel slipped into how they used to talk, voice low, knowing full well it only turned Santana on further.
That sexy voice of Rachel's was all Brittany needed. She bit down on Santana's shoulder, having always been a screamer. Santana trembled at Rachel's voice and gave a soft cry as Brittany's teeth sank into her skin. It was the push she needed, the pain and the pleasure at once making her come. She gasped as she rode the wave of her orgasm.
Brittany whimpered as she continued rubbing against Santana and started to unravel at the seams. She pressed her forehead against Santana's skin and closed her eyes as her orgasm shook her. She thought about what they'd do later at home, when they could fit mouths to breasts and make each other feel good for however long it took for all three to be sated.
Turned on as she was, watching Brittany and Santana come was enough for Rachel to experience pleasure. She watched as her two girls shook with exhaustion, sweaty sultry looks on their faces. Rachel slowly slid her fingers out and offered one to Santana and one to Brittany. The third she left for herself. This was their little ritual to make sure all three girls got the same amount of attention equally. Plus, it was hot as hell having two different warm mouths wrapped around her fingers.
Santana watched Brittany lick Rachel's fingers after her, then the Latina leaned over and kissed Brittany full on her mouth, savouring the taste of herself.
"I think..." Santana mumbled with a slow smirk when she released her girlfriend. "I think we're late for class."
"I'm sure we can blame it on getting lost," Rachel giggled. She always forgot her fears and insecurities after sex with her girls. Well, not completely. Despite her stomach practically begging for food, Rachel still refused to eat. You couldn't trust anything, but most especially you couldn't trust food. It was too easy to slip poison or drugs into it. To make her into a victim again. The last time had been because the girls got caught between two warring and dangerous people, only one of them with honour but the other without scruples. Rachel and Brittany had both been used to make a statement, an example. They wouldn't let it happen again.
Brittany smiled and wrapped her arms around her two girlfriends. An extremely faint "I love you" slipped out her lips. Who needed class? In a few minutes Brittany knew all three girls would be able to go at it again. Surely that was better then listening to some lame teacher give a lecture on things they would never need to know.
Smiling, still a little out of breath, Santana pressed her lips against Brittany's bare shoulder and said, "I love you too, B." She tried to pull Rachel closer but accidentally knocked over a mop which toppled and narrowily missed hitting Rachel. "We need to find a better closet," she said, smirking. "This one's a little too small for us."
"I'll leave that to you," Rachel said wryly.
"I'll find somewhere nice and private," Santana promised, licking her lips. They tasted like her girlfriends, their mouths, their skin.
"I guess we should go to class now," Rachel said and looked down at herself. She giggled. "We look like... like sex." Rachel tugged her shirt down, smoothed out her skirt, and tried not to think about what state her hair was in. Good thing they didn't wear lipstick. Clear lipgloss and chapstick blended together nicely.
Having spoken past her quota for the month, Brittany opted to smile, not giving her opinion. She raised a hand and gestured at Santana's neck and chest. There was no way Santana could hide that.
Santana buttoned up her jeans and grinned at Brittany, knowing she probably had fresh hickies. "I should've brought a scarf."
"We'll just have to be more prepared next time," Rachel said calmly. She knew there would be a next time. They all had needs. And their lives had taught them that there was no "later" and no "tomorrow" guaranteed. It was do or die basically. "And make sure you find somewhere for us with a lock, S. I don't want any pervy blondes bursting in on us," Rachel added before sweeping out of the closet as dramatically as she could with having little to no room to storm out.
Brittany raised an eyebrow and smiled to herself. It seems Quinn had made quite the impression on her girls. Brittany followed her girlfriends out of the closet. They searched for their class in silence, occasionally smirking at each other and looking at their sex-rumpled selves. Santana slid one hand into the back pocket of Brittany's jeans and linked their arms as they walked. The Latina was ready for another go round, wishing they had more time and more space than a closet. She wasn't exactly patient when it came to need.
They finally found their class and Santana went in first. Brittany came in last, behind Rachel. She immediately noticed that the petite girl wasn't happy, and she knew why. Sitting in the back of the class...
"Quidd," Rachel growled quietly.
Quinn didn't reply. She was just cursing her luck that the three of them had walked into the class. She'd hoped the rest of her morning would be peaceful.
The teacher had watched Santana, Rachel, and Brittany walk in but she finally reacted. "Girls, you're late." She was halfway to giving them all dirty looks, but Santana quelled it with a dangerous glance in the woman's direction.
"Give us a break. We're new," Santana said, shrugging her shoulders. Teachers always rubbed her the wrong way; they assumed because they were foster kids that they were idiots.
The teacher opened her mouth but then closed it again. Not like she could punish the new kids for getting lost. That excuse always worked. It was after a few days that Santana had to start getting more creative with her lies. She'd used the death in the family card enough times to know it worked more often than not. Santana smirked at Brittany and squeezed her girlfriend's hand. They only had to last the rest of the day.
There were three empty seats at the back of the class, just one row behind that Quinn Fabray chick. Rachel immediately turned bitchy and jealous, even though she was the only one allowed to have her way with her girlfriends. Rachel was sure her knuckles were going to split open. She knew she was being a little ridiculous but there was nothing she was willing to do about it. She ignored the teacher and stalked to the last three seats. She took the one closest to the Quinn the perv, to keep a close eye on her.
Quinn's lips parted of their own accord when she noticed the way Rachel's shirt was rumpled. She swallowed thickly and tried not to look at the petite brunette. But it was hard not to notice the way she kept glaring daggers from her eyes.
Brittany clung to Santana's hand. New schools were always hard. The teachers always pushed to get her to talk and the students acted like she was a freakshow.
Rachel was vaguely aware of Santana putting pencil and paper in front of her. She knew she should be taking notes. But she also knew she could copy off Santana later on. Just because they had a rough upbringing did not mean the girls slacked off. You got an easier time in the foster system if you were a good student. Rachel's attention was on every single girl in the room. Apparently Quidd wasn't the only lesbigay in the room that was fascinated with her girlfriends. She felt like announcing loudly: see those hickies? That's right, bitches! I own this! But she didn't. It was their first day. She would allow the examining. Unless it was from Quidd.
Quinn dutifully tore her gaze away from the girls seated at the desks beside her and focused on what was in front of her. One new kid on their own was interesting, usually, but three girls-who looked like Rachel, Santana, and Brittany-were a whole new animal.
Playing footsie with Brittany, Santana stared at her work and read the material on autopilot. As the rest of the class settled into their work, the boys and girls of McKinley went back to their own business. Rachel was sure they were being talked about and analyzed but at least no one was gawking at them. The bell rang soon enough and, satisfied with the way things had turned out for this class, Rachel graciously smiled at Quidd. She had to reward the blonde somehow but she wasn't about to go and talk to the girl or something.
Quinn took her time before leaving the class, so the three girls could file out before her. She'd had her fill of them for the day. Maybe she'd actively try to avoid them; they only seemed to cause trouble, anyway.
Sighing, Quinn stuffed her books and papers into her bag and slung the strap over her shoulder. In the hallway people usually made way for her to walk. Even after her pregnancy, she'd managed to rebuild her reputation so she had the same respect as before.
Today no one moved out of her way. Not a single person averted their eyes. They weren't even paying attention to her. Frowning, Quinn walked to her locker and on the way she figured out why no one seemed to care about her. Santana and Rachel and Brittany. They were hogging the limelight, and Quinn couldn't allow that. She bit her lip and stood by her locker for a moment, thinking. She'd find a way to distance the girls from the rest of the student body and outcast them quicker than any slushie could.
As they walked through the halls to their next class, Brittany could hear the words "closet", "all three", "lesbians", "scary", "hot", and the occasional "how does that work?" being tossed around. Brittany refused to listen, though. No matter how interested people were in the beginning they always went away disgusted and angry. So the girls had learned not to even try and explain themselves. It wasn't like they were ever in one place long enough to get attached to anyone. And they very rarely wanted to, anyhow.
But as Brittany passed a tough looking boy who had a ridiculous haircut, Brittany felt herself relax. The gang they used to be in had a man just like that and he had been the nicest gang banger to ever hit the streets. He had died trying to save the girls. Eli Puckerman had been his name. He was always saying something about making up for lost time and past mistakes. Why he had joined a gang to do that... Brittany would never know.
Rachel glanced back at the football player Brittany kept staring at. When he gave her a wink and a cocky smirk, she found herself smiling back instead of rolling her eyes and looking away. There was something so familiar about this boy, yet he was so foreign at the same time.
The last class of the day was the single one where Rachel was alone. She was tense the whole time. Why it was required to take home ec, Rachel would never understand. And to make matters worse, Quidd was sitting at the table in front of her.
Quinn was trying not to be aware of Rachel seated behind her, but she couldn't help it. Her ears strained as she listened to the patches of tense conversation between the petite girl and her pushy partner. Finally Quinn stood up and walked around the desks towards the back of the class to collect a few extra ingredients she didn't need.
She watched Rachel from the corner of her eye, having a better vantage point from where she was standing now. She could see the side of Rachel's face and what looked like anxiety in her expression. Quinn, pretending to be busy, tried putting two and two together.
"Here, taste this," Rachel's cooking partner said with a smile.
Staring at the offered spoon, Rachel felt her chest tighten. Beads of sweat gathered on the back of her neck.
"No thanks," she managed to choke out. Later, when the food was done and ready to eat, Rachel declined her portion. She nearly burst into tears when the teacher tried to convince her to eat. But instead of succumbing, Rachel said she was full from lunch.
This school was trying to kill her, of that Rachel was sure.
The last class was hard for all three girls. Brittany had Santana with her, but not Rachel. And Brittany knew where her girlfriend was. Any class with food spelled disaster for Rachel.
Adding to list of bad things, the teacher simply refused to accept that Brittany didn't talk. In fact, Brittany was sure Santana was going to blow up if the teacher asked one more question. Running away was starting to sound really good.
Santana's knee kept bouncing hard underneath her desk, at times her thigh connecting with the hard wood and making the desk rattle. People probably noticed her agitation, but she could only think about how Rachel was doing without them. She and Brittany knew their girlfriend better than anyone could know another person; Santana could almost feel Rachel's nerves as though they were her own.
Santana looked at Brittany, her mouth tight. To make matters worse the teacher kept prodding and poking and trying to convince Britt to talk, but the blonde just shook her head or shrunk in her seat. Santana could practically see the malicious joy in the teacher's eyes as she tormented Brittany. Santana might have to hurl her chair soon.
The roles were reversed when the teacher finally backed off and gave Brittany some peace. The blonde soothingly rubbed Santana's arm, silently telling her that things would work out. But more than once, Brittany longed to get out of her seat to go to Rachel. Past experience had taught her that being apart was dangerous. Even at school. Especially at school.
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