this is my first real smut fic so i'm kind of freaking out.
you love me, i love you harder
Rachel knows she's ready.
She knows in her gut that finally – finally – she's ready to give herself to Finn in every way possible. When things start getting heated, she doesn't want to stop anymore; she wants to feel him everywhere – around her, inside of her. She flushes a little at the thought.
And then she feels guilt fill her stomach when she thinks of her previous failed attempt to be intimate with Finn. He was perfect – making her dinner, setting the mood, being prepared – and he stopped her, grabbed her wrist, asked her, "Why now?"
And she told him, told him about Artie saying she couldn't pretend to lose her virginity when, in reality, she hadn't lost it. He'd frowned and stood up, saying that he needed a minute. And she'd hurt him, and she regrets it so much.
But now the play is over, and now she's sure that she's ready to give herself to Finn completely – simply because she loves him and she wants to be with him in every possible aspect of their relationship, including sex.
So she takes a deep breath as she stands on his doorstep, her hand shaking as she knocks on the wood. She hears his heavy footsteps, and then the door swings open. He surveys her carefully.
"Hi," she squeaks out. His shirt seems to hug his torso just right, his hair slightly mussed up, and she just wants him, so badly. Her heart pounds in her chest, and she's just so nervous.
He doesn't say anything, just looks at her with sad eyes.
"I – I got your flowers," she adds. "They were beautiful."
"You were really good," he says, his voice flat.
"Can I come in?" she asks.
He sighs, and he looks so vulnerable, but he steps aside to let her in the house.
She frowns, following him into the living room. "Where is everybody?" she asks, unfastening her pink traveling cape.
He doesn't look at her, staring determinedly at anywhere but her face. "Uh, Kurt's out with Blaine, and – and Burt and Carole left right after the show for Toledo. I guess they've got a meet and greet in the morning so… they're spending the night."
"Why didn't you stay for the afte rparty?" she asks gently. "I – I know you're still mad at me about the other night, but—"
"He didn't like me," Finn cuts across, hurt in his voice, subtle, but there. A muscle tenses in his jaw.
"What?" she asks. "Who?"
"The recruiter," he says heavily, sounding like he's trying not to cry. He tells her about how he waited after the game, how the recruiter told him he probably wouldn't play football beyond high school. His voice breaks, and Rachel can practically feel his devastation.
He's still staring at the floor when he's finished, and Rachel scoots closer to him on the couch. "I don't – I don't understand what any of this means—"
"It means I suck!" He stands up abruptly, anger and pain laced in his voice. "It means I'm gonna be stuck here forever! The recruiter's not going to recruit me. He said I – I'd reached my ceiling—"
"There are other colleges," she says soothingly, because she hates seeing him so broken and she has to say something.
"Like there are other schools for you besides NYADA?" he asks, his voice getting louder and louder. "I'm not good enough!"
She wants to hold him to her and tell him everything will be okay but she senses he's not done yet, and he's not.
"I'm not a good enough quarterback to get a scholarship, I'm not a good enough singer to get into NYADA, it's all over for me!"
She can't take it anymore. "Stop it," she insists as he collapses into a chair, kneeling down in front of him, hands on his knees as he buries his head in his hands. "Finn, look at me."
He complies, his sad brown eyes meeting her dark ones.
"Your dreams are not dead, okay?" she says. "You've just grown out of them. You have to find new ones now."
"I don't know how," he mutters dejectedly.
"Then we'll figure it out together," she tells him, her fingers rubbing smalls circles on his kneecap. "You're special," she continues. He's still looking at her, still sad, but she knows she's getting through to him. "And you know how I know that? Because I'm going to give you something that no one else is ever going to get."
His brow furrows in confusion, and in answer, she leans forward and presses her lips against his, her hand looping around his neck to keep him close.
"You don't need to do this, okay?" he says, still looking dejected as he pulls away. "The play's over, there's no point—"
"No," she insists, "the point is – is I was wrong and stupid and immature and, probably not for the last time, lost in my ambition, and…" She looks at him, trying to convey all of her feelings without words.
"And now?" he asks quietly.
She shrugs slightly. "And now I'm just a girl… here with a boy that she loves… and wanting to remember this moment for the rest of her life."
It seems to be a good enough answer for him, and this time, he's the one who leans forward to capture her mouth with his own. She snakes her arm around his neck once more, her fingers tangling in his hair. She feels his hands slide down her dress, resting on either side of her zipper as he presses her more tightly to him.
They pull apart, breathing heavily, and he gives her a small smile. "You're sure?" he asks.
"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," she whispers in reply.
His grin widens, and he kisses her again, his tongue sliding easily into her mouth, his fingers playing with the zipper of her dress. She lets out a little breathy moan as he moves his ministrations to her neck, gripping his shoulders as his hands slight down to rest just above her butt.
"I love you," he murmurs against her skin, and she sighs contentedly, his name on her lips. She feels him smile.
"We should take this upstairs," he mutters, but she shakes her head.
"No," she whispers. "Here."
"Here?" he asks, pulling back to look at her.
She smiles, nodding. "On the floor. Kurt's gone, and so are Burt and Carole and… I don't know, it just feels right."
He grins, kissing her again, once, twice, three times, before standing up and moving her off to the side.
"Where are you going?" she pouts, immediately missing his hands on her skin.
"Blankets," he says, going over to the linen closet between the kitchen and the living room. "And pillows."
Her eyes shine and her heart swells. She beams at him.
"I just want you to be as comfortable as possible," he explains, carrying two pillows and a comforter into the living room, setting them in front of the couch. "I just… I really want this to be perfect."
"It will be," Rachel assures him. "Because it's with you."
He gives her a nervous smile, and she smiles back, grabbing the pillows from him and laying them down on the floor. He spreads the comforter out, smoothing it down until she grabs his hands with her own.
"I'm ready," she says quietly.
He nods. "Yeah, me, too."
She knows he's thinking of this as his first time, too, and it is their first time together, so she beams as she leans over to kiss him. He scoots closer to her, deepening the kiss, his hand tangling in her hair. She reaches under his sweater (but over his undershirt), her hands running across the muscles of his stomach. He groans a little bit into her mouth, and she smiles, tugging at the hem of his sweater with her fingers.
He pulls away momentarily to help her shuck it off of him, his lips crashing back into hers as soon as his sweater is on the floor. His hand goes to the zipper on the back of her dress, and he pulls away to look at her, his gaze questioning. She gives a slight nod, gripping the back of his neck and kissing him fiercely. He kisses back, his fingers fumbling with her zipper, but he manages to grasp it, slowly sliding it down. She breaks the kiss to shimmy out of the dress, until she's in nothing but the silver slip she was wearing underneath.
"Let's get under the blanket," she suggests in a throaty whisper, pressing a kiss in the hollow beneath his ear, and he nods mutely. She takes his hand, pulling back the comforter so they can both crawl underneath. He reaches down to cover both halves of their lower bodies with the blanket, and Rachel's heart pounds in her chest – not with nervousness, but with excitement.
She's ready for this. She's honestly and truly ready.
He rests a shaking hand on her blanket-covered hip, taking a deep breath as he meets her gaze.
"I love you," she reminds him, holding up her hand and lacing his fingers with hers.
"I love you, too," he replies. She leans over and kisses him, her tongue dancing with his, and he rests their entwined hands on his chest. Slowly, she extracts her fingers, tracing the material of the shirt until it ends, sliding her hand underneath so she's touching the bare skin of his stomach. She runs her fingers up his chest then around to the muscles of his back, trying to memorize every contour, every ridge. She traces the trail of hair from his belly button to where it disappears underneath his jeans, her fingers gently tugging at the button of his fly. She manages to get it undone, daftly sliding down his zipper, her hand grazing his already prominent erection.
He groans into her mouth as she slides his jeans down his legs. He kicks them off, his own hand sliding under the covers to rest on her bare thigh, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her skin.
(She's so glad she remembered to shave that morning.)
They're both still wearing too many clothes, and the heat from the fire is starting to set in, so she tugs impatiently on his t-shirt. He pulls away from her briefly to hold up his arms so she can remove it completely, and then her hands are on his bare chest as well as her lips, pressing kisses to every square inch of skin she can reach.
"You have to know how attractive you are," she says between kisses, lacing their fingers together once more. "That you really are the hottest guy in school." She looks up to see that he's blushing, so she adds, "But you're mine. No one else gets to see you like this. Just me."
He grins, cupping her chin and pulling her face up so he can capture her lips with his. "Deal," he whispers. "As long as I'm the only one who gets to see you like this."
Her heart pounds because she's never heard him sound so sexy, and she presses a kiss to the tip of his nose. "Always," she promises. "It's always been yours." She rests her chin on his chest, looking up at him, and he strokes her hair gently, a small smile on his lips.
"I love you so much right now," he says quietly.
She smiles, pressing another kiss to his chest. "Finn?"
"Make love to me."
He grins, flipping them over so suddenly he's hovering over her, pressing kisses to her neck and collarbone, causing her to giggle.
He presses his lips against her bare shoulder, slowly moving one strap down, then the other. She shivers, even though the room is unnaturally warm. He gently nips at her skin, soothing the bite with his tongue. His hands slide up her legs, underneath her slip, tracing the outline of her underwear. She moans a little bit when he cups her through her underwear, and she's sure he can already feel how wet she is. He presses another kiss just about the swell of her breasts, and he slides her slip up farther. She holds her arms up so he can sweep it over her head, tossing it in the ever-growing-pile.
Suddenly, she feels very self-conscious. He hovers above her, his breathing as rapid as her own, his eyes studying her nearly-naked body. Part of her wants to cover up, but the other part is excited to share this part of herself with him – to share every part.
"God, you're so beautiful," he whispers, lowering his head to her breast. She sucks in a breath as his tongue swirls around her nipple, his other hand coming up to knead her other breast. She grips his hair frantically, pushing him against her. "I plan on showing you just how beautiful you are," he whispers as he switches sides, paying equal attention to the other breast. She moans out his name, fingers still tangled in his hair as he trails kisses down her abdomen. His fingers play with the waistband of her panties.
"F – Finn," she says breathlessly. "C – Condom—"
"Shit," he mutters. "Mine are, uh, upstairs."
"Purse," she manages to choke out.
He grins, pressing a kiss against her nose, standing up and walking across the room to get her small handbag. She misses his skin against hers, but he's back within seconds, hastily opening the condom wrapper.
Rachel laughs, grabbing his wrists gently. "I love you," she reiterates.
"I love you, too," he replies, pressing his lips sweetly against hers.
She raises herself onto her knees, shimmying out of her panties. She takes in a deep breath when she manages to get them all the way off, conscious that he's finally seeing all of her.
"So beautiful," he mutters again, his hands resting on her waist as he kisses her once more.
Rachel smiles as she pulls away, running her hand down his arm. "Your turn," she whispers, dropping her hand down to experimentally grip his erection through his boxers. He lets out a guttural moan, his hand wrapping around her wrist. "I – I might… you know… if you do too much of that," he warns, his voice low.
She grins, pleased that she has such an effect on him. "Okay," she whispers, gently tugging his boxers down instead. He helps her remove them completely, stepping out of them so they're both exposed, both completely bare. She gets a good look at him – at all of him – and (besides briefly wondering how he's possibly going to fit) thinks she's never seen anything more beautiful.
"Let's lay down," she whispers.
"Yeah – yeah, alright," he manages to get out.
She lays back down on the comforter and he hovers over her once more, his hands shaking as he removes the condom from the wrapper.
"Here," she whispers. "Let me."
He nods, and she takes the condom from him, rolling it onto his length. He involuntarily bucks into her hand, and she smiles up at him.
"Ready?" he asks, his voice shaking.
She nods. "Ready," she affirms.
He gently parts her legs, she guides him to her, and slowly, he pushes into her.
"I'm so sorry," he hisses when her face scrunches up in pain. "I – I didn't mean to—"
"No, no, it's okay," she assures him, taking his palm and kissing it. "Just – just give me a minute." She takes a deep breath, then she intertwines her fingers with Finn's again. "Alright," she says. "Alright, keep going."
"I love you," he says, then he pushes in further, filling her completely. She can feel him everywhere at once: around her, inside of her. She feels whole, like they truly share one mind, one heart, one soul.
He slowly, agonizingly pulls back out, then in, as if he's afraid she'll break.
"You can go faster, Finn," she tells him, reaching up to cup his cheek. "I'm okay."
"Are – are you sure?"
"Yes," she insists. "Please."
He nods, thrusting back into her, and she sighs in contentment. He groans, burying his head in her hair, and she wraps her arms around him, breathing heavily as she tries to keep him as close as possible. She feels so connected to him. She feels nothing but pure love.
Finn topples over the edge after a few more thrusts, and she kisses his face, his shoulder, his chest as he comes down from his high. They stay like that for a few moments, his face buried in the crook of her neck and shoulder, her arms still around him, their bodies connected in the most intimate way possible.
He pulls out of her, rolling over so he doesn't crush her, and she curls into his side, not wanting to lose contact with him. "That was…" He trails off, still breathing heavily.
"It was," she agrees happily.
"I'm sorry you didn't—"
"It's okay," she says quickly. "Girls rarely do, the first time, I think." She pauses. "We'll just have to practice."
He presses a kiss against her hair. "We will?"
She grins. "Oh, yes," she tells him. "We'll have to practice a lot."
"God, I love you," he says, tilting her chin up so he can envelope her mouth with his.
"I love you, too," she giggles, pecking his lips once more.
"Do you feel, uh, different?" Finn asks her, arm still around her shoulder.
"Yes," she replies. "I'm not exactly sore or anything – I suspect that will come tomorrow – but I feel… whole. I feel so much right now, so much love. For you."
He kisses her forehead.
"I'm so glad my first time was with you," she whispers. "So, so glad."
"Me, too," he whispers back.
She sighs, wrapping an arm around his waist, and she rests her head on his chest. "We should practice some more," she says, eyes twinkling.
"Wh – right now?" he squeaks out.
"Unless you don't want to," she says, sighing dramatically and rolling onto her back.
She squeals when he suddenly turns so he's on top of her, pinning her arms above her head. "I want to," he growls, kissing her fiercely.
She smiles under his lips.
i hope this wasn't horrendous, and it would mean a lot to me if you left a review! :)