castle fanfiction, castle/beckett - you'll be the rhythm and i'll be the beat.
You'll be the rhythm and I'll be the beat
Author's Notes: Porn. It must be Tuesday. fic-a-thon again, because there was this prompt - (315): i fell off the bed in the middle of it, and he yelled "5 second rule" and kept fucking me. i think im in love - and then this came to me IN THE MIDDLE OF A CHILDREN'S FILM. (Side note: The Swan Princess, still excellent.) I don't know what that says about me. In any case, woe, I didn't use the actual line (which actually sounds completely 100% Castle) but I think the basic premise is still heartily embraced. Enjoy?
They've had a healthy amount of wine - not too much but still, more than enough - which is probably how she's ended up naked and splayed across the king sized bed in their hotel room.
It may have started with a comment on how stupidly big it is as he was pulling her dress over her head.
Overkill really she had said, starting on his buttons.
And he'd argued with her (are you insulting the size of my suite Beckett?) and they'd kissed and she'd fought the assault of his mouth over her lower lip to rebut.
(I’m just saying-
- that it’s what you do with it that counts?
Well at some point, yes.)
And then they were naked and he was issuing a challenge and she was saying there is no way I'll take up that entire mattress and then she was laughing and falling onto it and -
- now she's digging her heels into it, and the sheets are slipping beneath them and she's paradoxically trying to get away from his mouth when really all she wants is more of his tongue doing that and there and oh...
She's suddenly aware that it's her making all the noise, and that her hips have, without her consent, decided to rock her clit against his tongue and she's arching her back into it and -
- slipping, because the comforter is having none of her attempts to grip at it. He manages to hold her hips though, suck on her until she’s clenching violently against his fingers and her own abandon all attempts at holding her on the bed to squeeze at her chest.
The blood rushing to her head as her entire upper half hangs off the edge of the oversized mattress just makes it more intense.
Fuck.
He releases his hold on her and tongues at her, lazily, but she jerks into it and there’s no saving her this time.
She falls off the bed onto the carpet. The floor meets her hard, head first and then elbows and hips and the bony edges of her. The wine and the orgasm are a fog in her veins though, and it’s just a pleasant jolt. She moans.
His face appears over the edge of the bed. And you said the mattress was too big.
Castle - she smirks - get your ass down here.
Ass?
Hmm. Amongst other things.
Well, if you don’t like the bed - he falls down beside her - I suppose we’re paying for the carpet as well.
Her face is flat against it and she suddenly has the urge to feel more of it against her skin so she writhes against it, looks over at him laughing, the hint of her chin surfacing from beneath a curtain of her hair. Wanna ruin it?
He grins.
She palms over his chest, presses down for leverage and sits up to straddle him.
They’re both still sort of laughing - (wine, so much wine) - but it fades (or crescendos) to gasps when she half-manages to accomplish sex, the hard of him pressing against the wet of her but not quite fitting.
(That makes her laugh more.)
She shifts her hips a few times and he reaches between them but she swats his hand away - I can do this Castle - and then, apparently, she can. She feels stupidly accomplished when she sinks down over him, grins, bends to kiss him. He tastes of between her legs and she rocks against him harder at the memory and the idea of it.
The carpet is rough at her knees, and she’s aware that it’s burning, but it’s pleasant, like his hands digging into her ass, like the way she can glance her chest against his, all hard nipples against skin, like the way his teeth sink into her chin when she slides her elbows down beside his face and raises her head, curls her back and her neck.
(She’s drunk, so she says a few stupidly porn things - all you like that? and fuck yes and oh mm yes fuck, fuck me, harder. Which is sort of redundant, because he’s really only lying there and taking it at this point.)
She sits, properly, and his hands move from her ass to her thighs, and then he’s holding one between them, so she can rub herself against it when she moves over him, fast but slower, when her clit makes contact with the pads of his fingers.
The effort catches her breasts though, and he’s watching them move, watching the curves of her, from where she’s grinding down against him and up to her chest. (He’s a fan, really, of all of it, but there’s something about the way that flesh moves that’s … mesmerising.)
She teases - my face is up here Castle.
Oh I’m not looking at your face.
She smirks and then she groans, because really, she likes that he’s observing her like this. (She always has. It’s always been a little bit sinful, the pleasure she takes in his voyeurism.)
And her hand comes up to pinch a nipple between her thumb and fingers, her tongue tasting her lip. Mmm. She rocks against him slower, but with intent. Oh. Fuck.
He reaches out and takes her free hand, brings it to his mouth and sucks on her fingers until they’re wet and then holds them against her. I like to watch you Beckett. Make yourself come.
She’s halfway through telling him she’s not sure that she can (again) because there was so much wine, and slamming down against him and her fingers when she stops midsentence and mid-movement and collapses against his shoulder, catches the skin and tastes it, makes a mess of it with the wet of her mouth as she works her fingers against her clit and - Jesus fuck god.
Please tell me you went to Catholic school.
He manages to groan it out but then she’s moving her hips against him, slowly and lazily and purposefully and saying shut up Castle as she pants against his ear and he digs his fingers in, where they’re trailing up the damp line of her spine.
He hugs her against him and breathes with her. Okay. You win. The bed is ridiculous.
She smirks. You’re so agreeable when I fuck your brains out.
You’ll have to do it more often.
He sits up beneath her, runs his hand up her side to catch her chin and pull her mouth to his.
She grins, mischievously, into the kiss. Well, you did mention something about a ridiculous bed.
Somehow, she manages to look graceful as she pulls herself off him and into a standing position in one relatively fluid gesture. He sits there and blinks at her and she collapses back against the mattress and stares at the ceiling until he joins her.
The room is actually spinning right Castle?
Could be.
The bed probably won’t seem ridiculous in the morning.
I’ll remind you of that.
He smiles at her, lecherous.
Mm, by then the wine and the carpet burn will make everything, even you, seem unappealing.
She twists on her side and kisses the corner of his mouth as his fingers drift towards somewhere between the curve of her waist and the flare of her hip.
Are you saying I should take advantage of you now detective?
I’m saying - she pauses - fuck I have no idea what I’m saying. Shut up and kiss me.
Author's Notes: Porn. It must be Tuesday. fic-a-thon again, because there was this prompt - (315): i fell off the bed in the middle of it, and he yelled "5 second rule" and kept fucking me. i think im in love - and then this came to me IN THE MIDDLE OF A CHILDREN'S FILM. (Side note: The Swan Princess, still excellent.) I don't know what that says about me. In any case, woe, I didn't use the actual line (which actually sounds completely 100% Castle) but I think the basic premise is still heartily embraced. Enjoy?
They've had a healthy amount of wine - not too much but still, more than enough - which is probably how she's ended up naked and splayed across the king sized bed in their hotel room.
It may have started with a comment on how stupidly big it is as he was pulling her dress over her head.
Overkill really she had said, starting on his buttons.
And he'd argued with her (are you insulting the size of my suite Beckett?) and they'd kissed and she'd fought the assault of his mouth over her lower lip to rebut.
(I’m just saying-
- that it’s what you do with it that counts?
Well at some point, yes.)
And then they were naked and he was issuing a challenge and she was saying there is no way I'll take up that entire mattress and then she was laughing and falling onto it and -
- now she's digging her heels into it, and the sheets are slipping beneath them and she's paradoxically trying to get away from his mouth when really all she wants is more of his tongue doing that and there and oh...
She's suddenly aware that it's her making all the noise, and that her hips have, without her consent, decided to rock her clit against his tongue and she's arching her back into it and -
- slipping, because the comforter is having none of her attempts to grip at it. He manages to hold her hips though, suck on her until she’s clenching violently against his fingers and her own abandon all attempts at holding her on the bed to squeeze at her chest.
The blood rushing to her head as her entire upper half hangs off the edge of the oversized mattress just makes it more intense.
Fuck.
He releases his hold on her and tongues at her, lazily, but she jerks into it and there’s no saving her this time.
She falls off the bed onto the carpet. The floor meets her hard, head first and then elbows and hips and the bony edges of her. The wine and the orgasm are a fog in her veins though, and it’s just a pleasant jolt. She moans.
His face appears over the edge of the bed. And you said the mattress was too big.
Castle - she smirks - get your ass down here.
Ass?
Hmm. Amongst other things.
Well, if you don’t like the bed - he falls down beside her - I suppose we’re paying for the carpet as well.
Her face is flat against it and she suddenly has the urge to feel more of it against her skin so she writhes against it, looks over at him laughing, the hint of her chin surfacing from beneath a curtain of her hair. Wanna ruin it?
He grins.
She palms over his chest, presses down for leverage and sits up to straddle him.
They’re both still sort of laughing - (wine, so much wine) - but it fades (or crescendos) to gasps when she half-manages to accomplish sex, the hard of him pressing against the wet of her but not quite fitting.
(That makes her laugh more.)
She shifts her hips a few times and he reaches between them but she swats his hand away - I can do this Castle - and then, apparently, she can. She feels stupidly accomplished when she sinks down over him, grins, bends to kiss him. He tastes of between her legs and she rocks against him harder at the memory and the idea of it.
The carpet is rough at her knees, and she’s aware that it’s burning, but it’s pleasant, like his hands digging into her ass, like the way she can glance her chest against his, all hard nipples against skin, like the way his teeth sink into her chin when she slides her elbows down beside his face and raises her head, curls her back and her neck.
(She’s drunk, so she says a few stupidly porn things - all you like that? and fuck yes and oh mm yes fuck, fuck me, harder. Which is sort of redundant, because he’s really only lying there and taking it at this point.)
She sits, properly, and his hands move from her ass to her thighs, and then he’s holding one between them, so she can rub herself against it when she moves over him, fast but slower, when her clit makes contact with the pads of his fingers.
The effort catches her breasts though, and he’s watching them move, watching the curves of her, from where she’s grinding down against him and up to her chest. (He’s a fan, really, of all of it, but there’s something about the way that flesh moves that’s … mesmerising.)
She teases - my face is up here Castle.
Oh I’m not looking at your face.
She smirks and then she groans, because really, she likes that he’s observing her like this. (She always has. It’s always been a little bit sinful, the pleasure she takes in his voyeurism.)
And her hand comes up to pinch a nipple between her thumb and fingers, her tongue tasting her lip. Mmm. She rocks against him slower, but with intent. Oh. Fuck.
He reaches out and takes her free hand, brings it to his mouth and sucks on her fingers until they’re wet and then holds them against her. I like to watch you Beckett. Make yourself come.
She’s halfway through telling him she’s not sure that she can (again) because there was so much wine, and slamming down against him and her fingers when she stops midsentence and mid-movement and collapses against his shoulder, catches the skin and tastes it, makes a mess of it with the wet of her mouth as she works her fingers against her clit and - Jesus fuck god.
Please tell me you went to Catholic school.
He manages to groan it out but then she’s moving her hips against him, slowly and lazily and purposefully and saying shut up Castle as she pants against his ear and he digs his fingers in, where they’re trailing up the damp line of her spine.
He hugs her against him and breathes with her. Okay. You win. The bed is ridiculous.
She smirks. You’re so agreeable when I fuck your brains out.
You’ll have to do it more often.
He sits up beneath her, runs his hand up her side to catch her chin and pull her mouth to his.
She grins, mischievously, into the kiss. Well, you did mention something about a ridiculous bed.
Somehow, she manages to look graceful as she pulls herself off him and into a standing position in one relatively fluid gesture. He sits there and blinks at her and she collapses back against the mattress and stares at the ceiling until he joins her.
The room is actually spinning right Castle?
Could be.
The bed probably won’t seem ridiculous in the morning.
I’ll remind you of that.
He smiles at her, lecherous.
Mm, by then the wine and the carpet burn will make everything, even you, seem unappealing.
She twists on her side and kisses the corner of his mouth as his fingers drift towards somewhere between the curve of her waist and the flare of her hip.
Are you saying I should take advantage of you now detective?
I’m saying - she pauses - fuck I have no idea what I’m saying. Shut up and kiss me.