
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/155490.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Glee
  Relationship:
      Rachel_Berry/Will_Schuester
  Character:
      Will_Schuester, Rachel_Berry
  Additional Tags:
      Teacher-Student_Relationship, Porn_Battle
  Collections:
      Porn_Battle_XI_(Eleven_Days_of_Porn)
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-01-24 Words: 1561
****** how hard we try ******
by myrifique
Summary
     So maybe he's her teacher. That doesn't mean he can take the high
     road just like that, okay. The high road is fucking high.
Notes
     Written for the Porn Battle XI, prompt Will/Rachel - jealousy.
"So, you're dating Puckerman now?" Will asks, with a hint of pettiness in his
voice. The smile she's been wearing ever since Puck left the room tempers down
to a straight line, and her brows furrow with annoyance.
"I'm not dating him. We're friends, we're going to talk from time to time," she
replies defensively.
He snorts. "Talk, huh? From where I'm standing, it sounded more like flirting."
He knows he's being ridiculous - as ridiculous as a boy that would actually be
her age. He just can't seem to help himself.
"Well, what were you expecting? Did you think I was going to join a nunnery for
the remainder of my high school years? I'm not going to just wait around until
I'm at an acceptable age for you, Mr Schuester."
It's like a punch to the gut. He didn't expect her to bring it up - neither of
them ever did, after all. The memory of their kiss floods back to his mind -
how she was about to leave his house, how the Christmas lights had looked
around her face, how she had stood up on her toes to kiss him. How he had
pulled them both inside, to hide them from view, instead of stopping her like
he should have done. How her mouth felt against his, strong and soft at the
same time, how it had taken him every ounce of willpower he had to stop. She
had looked betrayed as he told her that this couldn't happen, that she was too
young, that she was his student.
"You kissed back," she had said before slamming the door.
He shakes his head to clear the memories, and stumbles through a reply. "Why
wouldn't you wait? I am.”
"You are?" she asks, incredulous. "You're waiting for me to graduate?" He had
hoped she'd turn soft at the confession, but it only seemed to anger her more.
"And why would you do that?" she finally explodes. "Do you really think I'm
going to hang around here once I'm out of high school? You of all people should
know that Lima, Ohio is not big enough to contain me!"
"Me of all people? Yeah, I thought I'd run straight for Broadway too, you know.
But in case you didn't notice, I'm still here!"
"Oh don't you do that, don't you project your failures on me-" and then she's
not talking any more because he's kissing her, swallowing the rest of her
protest. She reacts instantly, pressing her mouth against his, and it's like
they're still fighting, both of them pushing against each other until they win.
He throws her arms around her and brings her closer roughly, and she claws at
his chest, like a wild animal in his arms. His fingers press hard on her hips,
like he wants to leave his mark on her, to bruise her skin with the shape of
his hands.
"How dare you," she says when they part for a second, before attacking his
mouth again, her hands on the back of his neck, her nails digging into his
skin. He opens his mouth to answer and she slips her tongue inside, angrily
barging in, and he tangles his own with hers, pushing and twisting like he
wants to hurt her. She moans into his mouth and it sends a jolt through him,
his cock twitching.
Maybe she feels it, or maybe she's just angry enough to actually want to have
hate-sex with him. Whatever the reason, she opens her legs and wraps one of
them around him, pressing against him, closer. He groans and backs her against
the wall, knocking the air out of her. She's wearing one of her impossibly
short skirts, and parting her legs like that makes it ride up, and she's
practically grinding against him in her underwear.
He's about to lose his mind.
Trying to go for the lesser of two evils - he can't fuck her against the wall,
he can't fuck a student against a classroom wall, he can't fuck Rachel
anywhere, he can't -, he pushes on the leg that's wrapped around him until
she's back on her two feet, and he follows the line of her thigh with his hand,
scraping his fingernails on the soft skin, until he reaches her underwear.
She's wearing white cotton panties, and it reminds him of how young she is,
right before he presses his fingers on her. She gasps. She rolls her hips,
pushing down on his hand; her eyes are closed and she throws her head back. She
looks beautiful.
She opens her legs again and the cotton moves, and suddenly he's touching skin,
warm on his fingers. "Come on," she whispers, and it sounds like a taunt. So he
pushes the underwear aside and plunges a finger inside her. She rewards him
with a "Oh," her voice breathless and musical. She's so wet, and tight, and she
moves on his finger like she's dancing, thrusting her hips in time with the
rhythm he's setting. He flicks his thumb on her clit, and she moans harder.
"I want- Please-" she says as she opens her eyes, her hands suddenly flying to
his pants. She undoes his belt buckle and unzips his pants before he realizes
what she's doing, his mind still on the feeling of her around him, but then she
sneaks a hand down his underwear and wraps her fingers around his cock.
"Rachel," he says, and he's not sure if it's a warning or a plea for more.
"Mr Schuester," she mimicks, and she still sounds angry. She jerks him off with
quick movements, like she's trying to prove a point. Her hands are
inexperienced on him, her rhythm erratic, but it only makes it better, thinking
about how this is probably the first time she's done that, ever. He slips
another finger inside of her and she cries out.
"Fuck me, Mr Schuester," she says, her voice breathless, and his cock twitches
in her hands at her crude language.
"You know I won't, Rachel," he says, and he tries to move his fingers with more
dexterity, to apologize for disappointing her.
"Noah would do it," she says, looking into his eyes, a small smirk on her face.
The idea makes him not want to apologize for anything anymore. His hand
tightens around her arm until he’s holding her in a vice-like grip. This is a
fight, he remembers. And Rachel fights viciously.
"Would he," he says, bucking his hips against her hands.
"Oh yeah," she says, and she's still smirking, still looking right at him. He
knows what she's doing, he's not stupid. But, damn her, it's working. "He'd
fuck me right against this wall, thrusting into me until we both came, and I'd
scream his name."
"Oh, I'm sure you would," and he moves his fingers faster, going in and out of
her. He considers dropping to his knees to lick her off, ready to do anything
to make her shut up.
"I'd be so wet and tight around him, he wouldn't want to leave once he's inside
me, and we'd fuck here all day," and fucking hell.
"All right, you want to fuck?" he asks and then he's picking her up, and she
lets out a squeal, surprised for a second. She regains her composure quickly,
though, wrapping her legs around his waist, her arms heavy on his shoulders.
"Then we'll fuck," and he pushes in, his cock finding her entrance instantly.
He’s deep inside her before he even has time to wonder what the hell he’s
doing.
"Oh my god," she says, and she's impossibly tight around him. He revels in the
warmth of her, his cock pulsating inside her. He wonders for a second if he's
hurt her, but she thrusts her hips towards him, like she wants more. So he
pushes in and out again, holding her up with his arms, her back against the
wall. She can’t move much but she compensates by clenching her inner muscles
around him, and it's like she's vibrating on his cock, and he almost laughs -
it's so musical of her. He moves again, and he feels her tightening
rhythmically, and he knows she must be close.
"Say my name," he growls, and she opens his eyes, looking confused. "Say it,"
he repeats as he pushes inside her, harder.
"Will," she breathes out. "Will," she says again, stronger, higher.
"You're mine," he says, and she looks at him with wild eyes before kissing him.
"Mine," he repeats as she throws her head back and moans harder, and he feels
her tightening around him, her orgasm taking over her like the triumphant note
at the end of a solo. She sounds beautiful as she comes, crying out, a touch of
hoarseness in her musicality. He pushes once more and he's coming inside her,
his mind lost in the sensation, filling her whole, loving her.
They stay still for a minute. His arms start getting tired from supporting her,
but he doesn't want to move, doesn't want to think about what will happen when
she'll be down on the ground once more, when he'll have to leave the warmth of
her. When he'll just be the teacher who fucked his student against the
classroom wall. So he closes his eyes, resting his forehead against hers, and
breathes out.
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