Written to fill a prompt on the Glee kink meme (smut warning—obviously). The plot is all kinds of messed up. Slutty, deceitful Rachel bothers me, but I tried my best to redeem her as much as the prompt would allow. Also, I don't really write fanfiction, but I've read some lately. If I've unintentionally taken something from somewhere else, I apologize.
Full prompt: "Rachel and Finn are together and everything is great including their sex life. Rachel just can't stop thinking about having sex with Jesse though. She is getting kind of obsessed and decides she needs to do it just once to get it out of her system. She can't risk losing Finn so she comes up with a plan. She invites Jesse over and he can't help himself and ends up forcing himself on her. Rachel tries to fight him off and begs him to stop but she is actually enjoying herself. Bonus points if Finn goes to Rachel's house hears the struggle and walks in as Jesse is getting dressed. If you have Finn beat the shit out of Jesse and comfort Rachel I'll love you forever!"
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Like every obsession in Rachel Berry's life, it began innocently enough. A simple question, followed by a nagging sense of curiosity and regret…and suddenly she could think of nothing else. It really had less to do with him and more to do with her own feeling of inadequacy. The only thing Rachel hated more than a missed opportunity was failure, and somehow he came to represent both in her mind. But even if she recognized how irrational her feelings were, the "what if" was enough to drive her absolutely insane.
It all started when Rachel found out about Finn and Santana. It wasn't so much that her boyfriend had slept with the sluttiest girl at McKinley High…although she had insisted he receive a clean bill of health if he ever hoped to share more than a duet during Glee practice. No, it was the lying that really got to her.
Okay, so she hadn't been completely honest either. But that was different…wasn't it? Of course it was. Finn's lie was totally worse than her claiming she had slept with Jesse. Why exactly had she lied about that, anyway? It seemed so crazy and unnecessary—especially now that she was forced to admit her virginity was indeed still intact. That's when it hit her. Why did I not have sex with Jesse when I had the chance? He may have betrayed all of us in the end, but I didn't know that at the time. And his voice…it's enough to make any girl throw caution (and panties) to the wind…
That was three weeks ago, and in that time Finn had more than made up for his indiscretion. Rachel squirms in her desk, her body already anticipating the next time they can be alone. Who would have guessed sex with Finn could be so amazing? She can hardly remember life before the mind-blowing trysts they've managed to carry out in some interesting places (the choir room and backstage being two of Rachel's personal favorites). She crosses and uncrosses her legs for the hundredth time while desperately trying to focus on Mr. Schue's lecture. Someone averaging three to four orgasms a day should not be this horny, but Rachel spends every moment of her life wanting something. And right now? Well, right now she wants…Jesse St. James.
There is no doubt about it: Rachel's heart belongs to one Mr. Finn Hudson. Considering the last few weeks, every other part of her practically belongs to him too. But even as her body shudders underneath Finn's, head thrashing and lungs gasping for breath, she can't help but wonder. What would it…what would Jesse feel like? Nothing−and more importantly no one−can possibly feel better than this, but how can she ever be certain? And then there is something else−something that even she doesn't want to consider, but it claws at her subconscious nonetheless. Very few girls can measure up to Santana Lopez in the sack. Not that Rachel wants to be a dirty whore, but her previous lack of experience is a bigger issue than she cares to admit. What if she isn't the best at something? And worse yet, what if Finn realizes it? At least sleeping with Jesse would have evened out the playing field, so to speak.
Of course Jesse's devastatingly good looks may have something to do with Rachel's obsession, but she won't let herself go there. She can't think about the way he used to look at her, how the intensity of his gaze always managed to stir something deep within. The feeling wasn't anything close to love (she knows that now) but it certainly left her weak in the knees. None of that matters any more, and for the first time everything seems to be going right. Everything, that is, except for a frustrating question that reverberates in the back of her mind again and again. What if…
Finn is nothing short of amazing, even if he does need an occasional push in the right direction. Honestly, the relationship works because of their different personalities, not in spite of them. Rachel motivates Finn to strive for his personal best, and Finn helps her reign in the crazy. A relationship with Jesse would be a constant power struggle, neither of them willing to compromise and both feeding each other's penchant for drama and histrionics. Everyone knows that too much passion can be a bad thing. But in the bedroom…well, all of that intensity has the potential to be explosive. No! Rachel, get a grip. You have to stop this.
If Rachel has learned anything in her sixteen years, it's that problems don't solve themselves. This current fixation is futile−not to mention unhealthy−and it's only a matter of time before it interferes with her personal relationships. Luckily, taking initiative is one of her many talents. Something has to be done…and soon.
The plan is just to talk. Perhaps seeing him in person will shatter the romanticized, hyper‐ sexualized image that keeps her awake at night and constantly aroused. Maybe he'll bring back the hurt and humiliation, because as crazy as it sounds, at this point even heartache seems more bearable than the unsatisfied ache between her legs. One way or another, Rachel has to get Jesse St. James out of her head.
Finn can never know.
It's easy enough to invite Jesse over the following weekend. She didn't expect him home until Thanksgiving, but for some reason he's spending fall break in Lima. Her dads are out of town yet again, and under normal circumstances Rachel would be highly pissed that her boyfriend is off somewhere with the football team. Today, however, she's more than grateful for his absence (and instantly feels guilty for it). Jesse had been surprisingly receptive to the meeting, immediately agreeing to come over when she called. It was almost as if he wanted to see her as badly as she wanted−needed−to see him…
Don't be stupid. He made it perfectly clear that he doesn't care about me. But even if he did, I'm with Finn now. I love Finn…
It takes Rachel ten seconds to realize this is a bad idea. Meeting him face-to-face−standing mere inches away from that arrogant smirk and smoldering, fuck me eyes−was somehow supposed to diminish her desire? Stupid girl. She struggles to regain control and invites him in. Heat radiates throughout her body, cheeks burning as a flood of arousal seeps through her panties. When he opens his mouth to speak, her tongue inadvertently darts out to moisten her dry lips. And when she hears that voice, so deep and self-assured, the fire raging deep within her belly swells to a throbbing ache.
It doesn't help that he knows exactly what to say. The apology is so sincere, his tone so earnest and full of regret. How could she not forgive him? Even after what he did−the humiliation, the heartbreak, the betrayal−she's falling under his spell all over again.
Before she realizes it, they're sitting on her bed listening to music. His leg brushes against hers, and she swallows hard. This is a mistake. Why are we on my bed, of all places? It would be so easy for him to reach over…for me to run my fingers through that gorgeous hair. Oh God…Jesse, please touch me…
When a hand grazes her naked thigh, fingers inching their way to the hem of her skirt, Rachel chalks it up to an overactive imagination. But then his breath is warm against her neck. "I've missed you, Rachel." Jesse buries his nose in her hair and breathes in the sweet, clean scent of her shampoo. Yeah, he's definitely missed being this close to her. Girls are constantly throwing themselves at him (because let's face it, he's fucking Jesse St. James) but there is something about this girl that drives him crazy. She's annoying and high strung and so fucking sexy. He hasn't been able to get those short skirts and knee socks and that voice out of his head for months. There is no way she's turning him down again, especially considering he traveled all the way from Los Angeles to see her. He's not leaving Ohio without fucking Rachel Berry.
Rachel's heart is beating so fast she thinks she may literally have a heart attack. Jesse begins sucking on her neck, his tongue licking a trail from her collar bone and flicking against a sensitive earlobe. She can't think; it's just too much to take in. Suddenly skilled fingers are slipping beneath soaked cotton, and Oh! Oh my God…right there. Oh Jesse, please…this feels incredible! She can't help the moan that escapes her lips, nor can she stop herself from grinding against his hand. His fingers are circling her throbbing clit now, and it takes everything in her not to beg for more. "Mmm Rachel, you're so wet for me. Admit it. You've missed me too, haven't you?" With that, he thrusts a finger inside her, his thumb still working the taut bundle of nerves. She's so tight and wet and he nearly comes right there.
"Jesse…don't…" Don't stop, Jesse…don't ever stop. "I…we can't…" she manages to gasp out between moans. The words die on her tongue as another finger joins the first. She is completely lost in the moment, her head thrown back and legs trembling while he pumps and twists his fingers deep inside of her. "You know you want this as much as I do. Come on Rach, let go for once," he breathes in her ear.
Rach. The name sounds so strange coming from Jesse's lips. Only Finn calls her that.
Finn! Oh my God, what am I doing? It takes every ounce of strength left in her quivering body, but she pushes Jesse's hand away. "No, Jesse. I'm so sorry that I let myself get, uh…carried away. But I'm with Finn now. I−I think you should leave."
He looks at her in disbelief before the infamous smirk returns. Grabbing her wrist, he places her hand over his obvious arousal. Rachel shivers at the hardness straining beneath her fingertips. "Finn Hudson can't walk without tripping over his own feet. You can't tell me that talentless, uncoordinated amateur can satisfy you the way that I can."
Rachel flies off the bed in an instant, her eyes narrowing as she jabs a finger in his face. "I'll have you know that Finn can and does satisfy me! Quite often. On this very bed, in fact…" Her voice is shrill and indignant. How dare he insult Finn and make presumptions about her sex life? If he only knew…
She sees the animalistic hunger in Jesse's eyes as he towers above her, his hands grabbing her shoulders and roughly forcing her onto the bed. He yanks her legs apart and runs a hand across her drenched panties. "Don't be such a drama queen, Rachel. You know you want me," he hisses before ripping her blouse open and violently tugging at her bra. She gasps as his lips crash into hers. He's holding her arms above her head, his fingers biting into her wrists, and her hips buck when she feels his hardness between her thighs.
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Finn can't hide his goofy grin as he climbs into the driver's seat. Lately it seems permanently plastered to his face, and it has everything to do with his awesome girlfriend.
A few months ago, he would have called any dude who ditched his teammates to hang out with some girl a pussy‐whipped traitor. That's definitely what the football team is saying about him right now−or worse. He had given some lame excuse about helping his mom with a yard sale, but judging from their dirty looks (not to mention Puck's knowing smirk and vulgar hand gesture) the guys knew exactly where he was going. Whatever. They can think and say what they want. As long as he's with Rachel, he really doesn't care.
That's right. Finn Hudson doesn't care what others think of him. That's because he isn't just going to hang out with some girl. Rachel is his girl, and he's fucking crazy about her−every last controlling, high maintenance, talented, pushy, beautiful, and perfect inch of her. In fact, he's pretty sure he's like, in love with her and stuff.
Sure, Rachel can be a bit much sometimes…even for him. She's always using big words he doesn't understand and making him watch Barbra Streisand movies and forcing him to practice a Glee number for hours when all he really wants to do is rip off her clothes and practice a different kind of dance. But it's totally worth it, because being with her makes him so happy that sometimes he thinks he may just explode or have a heart attack or burst into a million little pieces. On top of that, his vocabulary has improved and he's discovered that Streisand chick can really sing (although no one compares to his girl). When Rachel flashes that gorgeous smile of hers, Finn knows he would do anything in the world to make her happy.
Shit. Now he's thinking about her mouth…and how warm and wet and amazing it feels wrapped around his cock. He never would have guessed Rachel would love sex so much. Yeah, she'd said that stuff at the celibacy club meeting, but he didn't really believe her. It took awhile to get into her pants, but ever since their first time she can hardly go two minutes without physical contact (except when she's performing of course, because there is still something Rachel loves more than sex).
He can practically feel her tight little pussy clenching around him now, her moans and cries of "Oh Finn…harder, please!" more beautiful than any ballad she could sing. He's already hard just thinking about it−and that's something else that seems permanent these days. He grips the steering wheel in frustration. Fuck! This is not the time to get stuck behind every slow driver in town. Taking a deep breath, he struggles to keep his mind out of the gutter. Mailman. Think of the mailman…
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Rachel doesn't want this. That's what she keeps telling herself, but Jesse's hands and lips and tongue are everywhere. It's too much and not enough and every fiber of her being is silently begging him to take her. He has her trapped beneath his powerful body, her arms pinned above her head, and she couldn't escape if she wanted to. Oh God, I don't want to. Something about relinquishing control−the vulnerability and excitement of being completely at his mercy−has every nerve exposed and quivering with desire.
Guilt won't let her fully succumb to his touch. She struggles to bite back the moans and still her undulating hips, as if feigning resistance somehow absolves her of the act. But when he captures a hardened nipple between his teeth, his tongue flicking out to soothe the sensitive skin there, she instinctively rolls her hips into his and whimpers.
It doesn't go unnoticed. Jesse can feel her wet heat even through layers of clothing, and he knows she wants this as much as he does. "Drop the act, Rachel. You want me to fuck you. Say it. Tell me you want me," he demands as his mouth continues its assault on her neck and breasts.
I want you, Jesse. God I want you! Please, fuck me…
"No Jesse, we can't do this. I…I love Finn. I can't help that my body responds to certain stimuli. It's merely a biological reaction−nothing more," she sputters, her walls tightening and yearning to feel his fingers, his tongue, his cock…anything that will give her the release she so desperately needs.
Oh, she's good−he'll give her that. But even the most seasoned actress would find it impossible to resist his touch. Rachel may say one thing, but her responsive body and the lust in her eyes say another. He's going with the latter on this one.
Letting go of her tiny wrists, Jesse rolls over and pulls away from Rachel's trembling body. Panic and disappointment flash in her eyes, and he chuckles. He grabs her waist, rolling her over and effectively pinning her arms underneath. Suddenly he's jerking her panties down to her knees, and before she can protest he runs a finger along her sopping slit. She thrusts her ass toward him, his finger pressing ever so gently on her highly sensitized clit. When she hears the clinking of a belt buckle, the anticipation almost brings her to tears.
He doesn't enter her immediately. That would be too easy, and he wants her begging for it. Instead, he runs the tip of his painfully hard cock through her wet folds, one hand gripping himself while the other angles her hips for better access. He circles the tiny bundle of nerves several times before resting at her entrance. It takes a whole lot of self‐restraint, but he stops moving and waits.
"Jesse!"
It's only one word, and it isn't the plea he had hoped for. But hearing his name fall from those perfect lips, her voice breathless and hoarse with desire, makes something primitive within him snap. He groans at the sight before him: Rachel fucking Berry, the girl who has driven him crazy since the moment she opened her mouth to sing, with her short plaid skirt hiked around her waist, cotton panties pulled down to her black knee socks, ass in the air and glistening core resting against the head of his cock. He thrusts forward and for a moment everything goes black.
Rachel comes with a loud cry as soon as Jesse enters her. But then he begins to move, and somehow she needs more. There is nothing gentle about their lovemaking. In fact, it shouldn't be called that at all. It's hard, rough, and dirty fucking. His fingers are digging into her hips, and she can already feel the bruises forming. Just when she thinks her body can't take any more, his fingers find her clit and she buries her face in the mattress, biting down to stifle her screams.
"Don't you dare hide from me," Jesse growls, fisting her hair in his hand and yanking her head back to get a clear view of those gorgeous brown eyes…which happen to be clamped shut at the moment. "Open your eyes, Rachel. I want to see that beautiful face of yours when you come. And you're going to come so fucking hard," he groans and buries his teeth into the sensitive flesh of her neck.
The delicious pressure between her thighs intensifies before exploding into wave upon wave of white hot pleasure, her muscles contracting and mind reeling from the sheer force of it all. Jesse continues to thrust against that spot, his fingers work their magic, and Oh! Oh my God…yes! Jesse, please!…suddenly Rachel is coming again, her orgasm and the reality of what she's done hitting her like a ton of bricks. The blinding pleasure, the aching muscles, the sickening guilt…it's all just too much.
After riding out his own pleasure, Jesse runs a hand along Rachel's trembling back and smirks. "What did I tell you, baby? You're so amazing," he whispers, leaning down to place a kiss on her shoulder blade. But her body is actually shaking now, and he hears something that sounds like a strangled sob, and…
Fuck! No, this cannot be happening. No no no. I could have sworn…she seemed so into it. Did I…oh shit, what have I done? Jesse climbs off the bed in shock and gathers his clothes. She totally wanted it…right? There is no way he misread her actions. But then why is she sobbing? He could have any girl he wants, and he would never force himself on anyone. Yeah, he was determined to have Rachel, but only if she wanted him too. And she did. He knows she did. I thought she did…
His heart sinks when he finally gathers enough courage to look at the tiny girl beside him. The torn blouse hangs off her shoulders, and he can already see purplish marks forming on her neck. She timidly pulls up her panties and draws her knees to her chest, careful to avoid his eyes.
Rachel can't bear to look at him. Her chest is tight, her stomach churning and twisting in knots, and she thinks she may throw up. How could I do this to Finn? I love him so much, and it took me so long to get him... She's crying again, and even though she knows it isn't fair to Jesse, she doesn't have the strength to reassure him right now. Of course she had wanted him, and it's wrong to let him think otherwise. But she's too consumed with remorse and thoughts of Finn to say anything but, "You should go."
Jesse turns to leave, too confused and shocked to argue or apologize or do whatever the hell he's supposed to do in this situation. He's so dazed that he doesn't even notice Finn…until a fist collides with the side of his face.
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When Finn pulls into his girlfriend's driveway, he thinks nothing of the unfamiliar SUV parked out front. Her dads are constantly bringing home new vehicles to test them out, even though they always find something wrong and send them back in the end. Such perfectionists. Rachel really didn't stand a chance.
He practically runs to the door, fumbling in his pocket for the key she had given him on their first date. It's pink with a gold star—and so very Rachel. That ridiculous key always makes him smile. I love you, Rach.
Dashing up the stairs, he can barely contain his excitement. What? He hasn't seen her in like, eighteen hours, and that's just too damn long. She'll be thrilled, because even though she hasn't said anything, he knows Rachel secretly resents all the time he spends with the football team. That's okay. He's already thought of a few ways to make it up to her.
He's at the top of the stairs now and…Wait. Is that…? A cold, sinking feeling grips his chest when he hears crying. Rushing to Rachel's bedroom, Finn first sees Jesse St. James, shirt half buttoned and guilt written all over his face. But then his eyes go to her, and he feels sick. The torn shirt, the bruises on her body, the tears—it doesn't take a genius to figure out what's going on. In that moment, Finn finally understands the terms temporary insanity and justifiable homicide. The desire to inflict as much pain as humanly possible takes over. Without thinking, his fist crashes into Jesse's face.
"I'll fucking kill you, you son of a bitch!" Finn moves to strike again, but a tiny hand on his arm stops him cold. Jesse takes advantage of the distraction and runs out of Rachel's bedroom and down the stairs.
"Finn, don't! Please…just hold me," Rachel whispers, wrapping herself around him. He's angry, so fucking angry, and the urge to retaliate—to harm, to kill—is too strong. But then he looks in her eyes, vulnerability and shame shining through the tears, and his love for her wins out. He pulls her up in his arms, swearing that he'll never let anyone hurt her again. "I love you so much, Finn," she breathes, burying her head in his chest and clinging to him for dear life.
Rachel knows how wrong this is. To let Finn think Jesse took advantage of her is unforgivable. And yet the alternative is so much worse. I just can't bear to lose Finn again. Maybe if I don't say anything it isn't really lying? It's totally lying. But more than the deceit she feels horrible for betraying Finn. Her feelings for Jesse weren't real—she knows that now. Merely an irrational obsession that led to the biggest mistake of her life. But this boy right here? He loves her. Now Rachel is positive that she's 100%, head-over-heels in love with him too. And that…well, that makes all the difference.