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istheresomebodywhocanimagine · 6 years ago

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I Have Confidence (SMUT)

anonymous said: bitch u better FEED me some Ben smut you’re like one of the only good writers in this fan base and I throw it BACK for Ben so idk do something with drunk y/n and ben and it’s playful and y/n is kinda needy or literally write whatever u want I’ll fucking cash app u sis I’m desperate!

(a/n: OMG I am 100% flattered that you think I’m one of the greats I literally feel like im in such a small corner of the fanbase bc im such a dweeb but that makes me cry happy tears THANK U. also yes i know i’ve already had a roger imagine w battleSHIPS in it but.... this is battleSHOTS bitch. NOW BACK TO UR REGULAR SCHEDULED BEN SMUT yall got spoiled w the fluff from the last post)

(p.s. u can still venmo/cash app me if u want im a broke college student pls spare change ma’am)

“Battleshots? You Americans are fucking mental, I swear.”

Ben was seated across the table from you, cross-legged on the chair that was currently actually a bit too warm for comfort. Both of you were out on his balcony, sitting at a table that was lit only by the late evening sun and the light streaming out of the door that led into his house.

You’d fashioned two makeshift Battleshots boards out of two small pizza boxes, seeing as you’d ordered pizza in tonight and the boxes had reminded you of your favorite party game. There was a grid on the bottom and top, and you each had 9 shot glasses filled with different liquors placed on the board in formations of 4, 3, and 2, just like the game of Battleships.

“It’s fun, don’t knock it til you try it,” you warned, peeking over the top of the box that was propped up on a cup and smiling. Ben’s curious green eyes met yours, and he laughed as he saw you stick your tongue out at him. “Winner finishes shots, or loser finishes winner’s shots? Your choice.”

“I say winner doesn’t have to finish their shots, that’s only fair.” He then sat back in his chair and pursed his lips, thinking for a moment. “I don’t want loser to finish the winner’s shots either, because I don’t think you can handle more than 9 shots.”

“Oh? Someone’s got a big head, don’t they?” you teased, raising an eyebrow and rolling your eyes playfully as he shrugged, smiling smugly.

“I have confidence in my abilities.” An exaggerated groan left your mouth as you flipped him off, trying not to laugh at how cocky he was being. “In all aspects of life,” he added with an eyebrow wiggle, making you pretend to gag as you waved your hand dismissively at him.

“I don’t want to hear about your sex life right now, Ben.”

“Why not? You seemed to enjoy my sex life a lot a couple nights ago.” A blush crept across your cheeks as you grabbed the decorative pillow you’d bought for him that was resting on the chair next to you, throwing it at him as he tried to imitate your moans.

He caught the pillow, laughing, and put it right back where it belonged as he gave you a knowing look. “You’re a pervert,” you mumbled, sitting up in your chair and grabbing your marker as you moved your cup of orange juice closer – you were using it as a chaser, while Ben opted for some kind of soda you hadn’t paid attention to.

You began the game of Battleshots, neck and neck with Ben throughout the first part until you both only had three shots left. You weren’t feeling anything yet, probably having taken the shots too close together, but you knew it would hit you soon. Standing up was something you were starting to fear.

But then Ben knocked out your last three in three successive rounds while you missed the rest of his, and you accepted defeat with only mild complaining as Ben cheered loudly, ever the gracious winner.

“I’ll take my winnings in cash or check, whichever works,” he teased, making you groan and climb up off your chair. Yep. There it was. You felt a warmth spread throughout your body and a dizziness overtake you as you stood, and you had to grab onto the chair next to you to ground yourself for a moment.

“Oof…. I’ve never lost this game,” you admitted sheepishly, Ben’s chuckles turning into cackles of laughter as he went to open the door for you, watching you make your way inside as best as you could. He was feeling something, but by no means was he as tipsy as you – if anything, he just felt a slight buzz, while you were verging on actually being drunk if you drank anything else.

Ben followed you as you headed to the kitchen to get yourself a water, and you glared at him as he continued to tease you, obviously in a great mood from winning. “Do you need help getting the water open? You’re a right mess, Ms. Second Place.”

“Oh, shut up,” you grumbled, taking a drink of the water and flipping him off as you leaned back against the counter.

He only laughed, unfazed by your grumpiness as he came over to place his hands on either side of you, effectively trapping you. “Does the winner get a kiss, at least?” He puckered his lips, closing his eyes and waiting for you to close the gap between you two. Scowling, you did the first thing you could think of – pouring some of your water onto his mussy, slightly curly blonde hair. The look of shock on his face was worth it all as he pulled away, gasping and pushing your hand away. “You little-“

“Cry about it,” you interrupted as you sat the water down, shrugging before taking off in a stumbling run and laughing deliriously as he scrambled after you, nearly slipping completely on the puddle of water that had gathered on the kitchen floor.

You made it all the way to the hallway upstairs before Ben caught you – he’d taken the steps two at a time, damn his thighs and stamina – and he grabbed you by the waist, lifting you up into a vice-like grip as you shrieked with drunken laughter, fighting against his arms even though it was clearly pointless.

“You’re gonna get it now!” he laughed breathlessly, carrying you into his bedroom and tossing you down on the bed before pouncing on you immediately, his hands going to your sides to tickle you mercilessly. He wouldn’t stop until you were gasping for air, begging him to give you a break, and even then, he kept his hand resting on your tummy as he fell to the side, grinning over at you. “You look like a mess, love.”

Giggling softly at the amused look on his face, you shook your head before crawling on top of him, straddling his torso before sitting down on his abdomen carefully, only eliciting a small release of air from him before he shifted just slightly to make it more comfortable. “You’re quite a dickhead, making fun of a drunk girl like this.”

His eye roll only made you laugh again, and he grabbed your hips, carefully scooting back so he could sit up and support himself on his elbows. “I feel no remorse, hard to feel bad when I get a pretty girl on my lap because of it.”

Your cheeks turned an even rosier color than the alcohol had already made them as you grinned, shaking your head before leaning down to kiss him gently, mumbling against his lips between kisses. “You’re such a flirt too.”

“Also no regret,” he quipped back calmly, resting a hand on the back of your neck and locking you into the kiss as he laid back on the bed again, taking you with him. Deepening the kiss eagerly, you made a happy noise as you felt the world spinning, half from the liquor and half from the feeling of Ben’s hands sliding up the back of your thighs to come and rest on your ass. When you pressed your ass back into his hands eagerly, he chuckled softly into the kiss, pulling away for a moment to mumble, “Someone’s excited.”

“Shut up, I’m drunk and my boyfriend is hot,” you mumbled right back, grinning before pulling him into an open-mouthed kiss, eliciting a groan from the back of his throat when you swirled your tongue around his, both of you tasting like tequila, while you left him with the taste of orange juice. The sound only made you more desperate to eliminate the layers of clothes between you, so you began tugging at the hem of his sweater, lifting it upwards and off when he reluctantly separated from the kiss and let you sit up.

He did the same with your shirt, tugging it up and off along with your bra before gazing up at you with a desirous glint in his eyes. The blown-out pupils scanned slowly up your torso as Ben chewed on his lower lip, just taking it all in. Shivering at the way his eyes devoured you, you had to finally distract him so he’d remember what he was doing – you circled your hips, grinding down against his increasingly hardening cock, which made his hands fly to your hips and catch them. You came to a stop with an impish grin on your face, and the playful look of disapproval in his face was quickly replaced by another look of lust when he rolled the two of you over, starting to work at the drawstring of the shorts you had on.

“Naughty girl,” he murmured, finally getting your shorts untied before tugging them off with your panties. His hand immediately moved between your legs, two fingers sliding up your folds as he grinned mischievously down at you as you squirmed slightly at the feeling, wanting his fingers inside of you. “You look so pretty right now, baby.”

“Ben, please,” you begged quietly, lifting your hips up against his touch and almost whining as he pulled his hand away, raising an eyebrow.

“Louder?”

“Damn it, Ben, please!” you repeated, pouting when he chuckled at the neediness in your voice. But his fingers returned to your pussy, rubbing your clit achingly slow and replacing the pouting look on your face with a look of relief. Eyelids fluttering closed, you let out a sigh of pure bliss as you relaxed into his touch, and you let out a soft moan of his name as he slid his middle finger into you, pumping it slowly.

As Ben finger-fucked you almost lazily slow, he pulled your legs over his shoulders one by one, laying stomach-down on the bed and trailing wet, open-mouthed love bites along the inside of your thighs. Then, the feeling of his mouth latching onto your clit made you moan out in surprise, and you ran a hand back through his damp blonde hair and giggled drunkenly as you remembered the water you’d left on the counter. “Fucking water,” you mumbled to yourself, pressing a hand to your forehead and laughing at how feverish you felt from the alcohol.

“Not funny,” he mumbled as he pressed another kiss to the inside of your thigh, and you were prevented from making a smartass remark by the simultaneous addition of another finger to your pussy and Ben’s tongue pressing against your clit, then flicking against it rapidly.

“Ohmygod, nevermind, you’re so right,” you breathed out, and you could hear Ben snicker to himself before he attached his lips to your clit again, sucking hard and eliciting an embarrassingly whorish moan from you. “Fuck you,” you mumbled once you’d stopped seeing stars for the moment, Ben’s fingers curling up inside of you and making you whimper softly in pleasure.

“That’s the plan.” His comebacks were rapid-fire today, and you thanked everything holy that you’d been blessed with such a keeper as he moved his lips up to your tummy, trailing kisses all the way up to your breasts. He used a third finger to slowly stretch you out as he began to suck on the skin of one of your breasts, purposefully trying to leave a hickey as small moans and whines left your lips.

You were unable to control your vocalizations as his fingers thrust in and out of you, and you did whine needily as he retracted them, leaving you feeling empty again. But he was already off the bed, grabbing a condom from the nightstand as you sat up shakily on your elbows, glancing at his jeans and biting your lip. You’d barely helped him out at all, you were so drunkenly focused on your own pleasure. “Do you need me to-“

“Nope,” he replied, popping the p as he unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers and kicking them off as he revealed he was already completely hard. You raised an eyebrow as he crawled back between your legs, backing you up to the pillows and rolling the latex onto his cock. “Hate to admit it, but those little sounds you make when I eat you out? Drive me fucking bonkers, honestly.”

A wide grin crossed over your face, and he rolled his eyes playfully as he took you by your sides, flipping you over so you were facedown against the mattress. As you raised your hips a bit, Ben met you in the middle, sliding his condom-covered cock between your folds and biting his lip. “Aw, not gonna let me see you fuck me?” you whined, Ben groaning as he shook his head, lining himself up.

“God, no,” he muttered, sliding into you and making you moan out lowly as he filled you, digging his stocky, strong fingers into your hips to hold you still when he almost bottomed out. “Can’t stand seeing you that smug right now,” he teased, making you laugh weakly as you tried to focus on his voice, not the fact that he was nearly balls deep in you.

“What? You get to be smug when you win, but I-“

Ben didn’t give you the chance to finish as he pulled out, then snapped his hips back forwards again. That effectively shut you up, instead making you bury your face in a pillow so the entire world wouldn’t hear you moan loudly at the sudden sensation. “You’re such an ass,” you panted when you finally regained your senses, and Ben chuckled knowingly as he began to thrust again, your eyes fluttering shut.

“I know,” he replied quietly, his thrusts shaking his gravelly voice as he moved a hand to your hair, pulling it all into his hand as he fucked into you. The only thing keeping you on balance and stopping the room from spinning was the tight grip you had on the comforter, which was the only grounding presence at the moment besides Ben’s increasingly tight grip on your hair.

The room was filled with the sound of skin on skin and wanton moans as Ben took you from behind, your legs nearly failing to keep you up several times when his thrusts sped up or slowed down. When he sped up, he’d let out little curses and grunts in that deep tone of his as he pounded into you, but when he’d slow down, his deliberate, angled thrusts would nearly overwhelm your senses.

When a particularly deep thrust made you moan out his name loudly, an undying smirk graced Ben’s lips as he continued to bottom out in you, pleased with the way he was turning you into a moaning mess and also dangerously close to becoming a moaning mess himself. As he neared his orgasm, he’d started to push your face more and more into the mattress, your cheek forced into the soft expanse of the comforter as his thrusts got sloppier and more desperate.

“I fucking love you,” he mumbled out at one point, and you grinned before letting out something that was a mixture of a laugh and a moan, pressing your hips back to meet his thrusts eagerly.

“I love you too, Ben,” you replied as sweetly as you could muster – which was hard, considering the situation – and he rewarded you by reaching around you with his free hand to rub your clit, making you whimper and whine in pleasure. You were already teetering on the edge, and this was making it almost impossible to hold out any longer. “Shit, I’m close, babe.”

“Me too, fuckin’ hell,” he breathed out, speeding up his thrusts as much as he could and matching the pace with his hand. He let go of your hair, instead moving that hand back to your hip and squeezing it encouragingly. “Come for me, babygirl.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cried out as the dual stimulation became too much, and you felt your high take over as every nerve-ending in your body simultaneously felt like it was shocked with a high-voltage energy.

Ben bit his slightly swollen lip, trying to stave off his orgasm as long as he could, but the feeling of you clenching around him mixed with the sound of your breathy, high-pitched moans was too much, and he had to move his other hand to your hips to hold you to him as his hips stuttered. Buried inside of you, he released into his condom while groaning your name brokenly, digging his fingers into your hips. Halfway through, he pulled out, giving his cock a few quick pumps with his hand to finish himself off.

You were down off your high first, Ben close behind, and you could barely walk without wobbling as you climbed off the bed, making your way to the master bath and grabbing wet washcloths – one for him, one for you. You cleaned yourself up, then returned to the bedroom, slightly more sure that you weren’t going to fall over on the way back, and you tossed the washcloth to him. He’d already disposed of the condom, and he gladly accepted the towel before cleaning himself up, then pulling on his boxers.

You tugged his sweater and your panties on, crawling into bed and curling into his side as he joined you, pulling the covers over the both of you. You were still reasonably tipsy, and you giggled as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, having already caught his breath.

“God, your stamina,” you mumbled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and shaking your head before nuzzling his neck, moving to lay halfway on top of him.

“As I said earlier,” he reminded you, wrapping his muscled arms around your waist and resting one of his hands on your ass, giving it a gentle pinch. “Confidence in my abilities. You should give it a try.”

“I should have confidence in your abilities?” you joked, only slurring your speech a bit, and Ben chucked before giving your hip a light pat as he shook his head.

“Well, that’s not what I meant. But that too.”

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