#black girls matter | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

funnyexel · 10 months

Text

A Routine

Brahms x Black Female Reader

Your eyes gaze down at the bloody glass shard sitting in his palm. He inched closer to you and you couldn’t help your unease.

“please don’t hurt me.” Your croak out, lip quivering as you look up to the grown man. His presence was eerie, intimidating and the blood on the sleeve of his cardigan wasn’t helping. Your jaw slacked in the slightest when his voice drastically changed to a school boys. Calling out your name, it was freaky to witness. He just stabbed your ex and you’re studying the change in his voice, its pretty comical. That little shit was an asshole anyway so technically, he had it coming.

“hurt…” he tilted his head to side, “..you?” stating a rhetorical question in his boy voice of course.

“Never.” He steps up, standing against you, a deep rumble and dominance in his regular voice. Full sentences escape your vocabulary when you stumble over simple words and shiver in fear. At your constricted body language, he drops the shard to the ground and sneaks his palms in your hands.

“I’ll be good. I will.” His attempt at reassurance was cute. Maybe it convinced you, maybe not.

“brahms.” His name fell like honey from your lips. A mere whisper of his name making him want you more.

“yes, pretty?” He matches your discretion, leaning down to your right to admire your features. Squeezing his hands, you chuckle dryly. When in an awkward situation you laugh stiffly and you could jump off a cliff because of the dumb habit. Releasing your hand and using his finger to move a braid behind your ear, he tilts your chin up softly. An acute whimper muffles through the mask. Your chest rises and falls roughly as you try to compose yourself.

“your hand..” you hesitate to let go of his other hand, infested with foreign blood.

“it hurts,” that damned voice is beginning to work on you. Looking down to his hand, your facial features display mountains of concern.

“no, here.” His hand travels down his stomach and over his pants. Your eyes shoot up to his shadowed irises. You need to get out of this, you tell yourself. With a moment of hesitation you remember the rules.

“brahms, you’ve been bad..” You scold to entice him and continue, “it’s way past bath-time.” Crossing your arms over your chest you hope to sell it. Walking up the steps, pausing briefly as his footsteps shadow behind you. Walking in the bathroom, you turn the faucet and plug the tub. As the water fills up halfway, you put a rag on the side of the tub and face him.

“well?” You swallow thickly.

“take off your clothes.” He does exactly that, stripping his top off first. Eyeing his toned stomach, a line parts his pecks, moving down his chest in a faint definition of a six pack and small waist, a treat. Closing your eyes when he gets to his pants, you only open them when the water splashes and swooshes around. Task of getting him to bathe wasn’t hard but it’s not the goal. The goal is to leave.

“Um, I’ll go find some clothes for you.” You project, rising from your position and detangling your hands from his hair. In the midst of it all, he grabs your forearm. A small yelp leaving your lips.

Skepticism clouding the air, searching your pupils he doesn’t seem to find what he’s looking for and lets you free, reluctantly. Walking out the tight space, you let out a deep breath, speed walking to your bag and shoving the important stuff in it. Your passport, wallet, phone, some clothing and keys…keys? Your eyes dart from the closet where you just looked and the dresser. This cannot be happening. Running to the dresser, you search the drawers two at a time. Under your breath profanities fly at your frustration. Your busy mind seems to notice the shadow to the right of you. Jumping out your skin and clenching your chest, you eye the figure in the corner. A breath of relief turns to a light stressed laugh.

“I didn’t think finding clothes would be this hard.” You cannot stop yourself from chuckling when you turn your back to the dresser, closing the five open drawers. He doesn’t move. Maybe you can make a run for it? The thought immediately shakes from your mind, his dripping hair and droplets glistening on his hairy skin indicates he hurriedly rushed out the bath, you weren’t being necessarily quiet once you started to panic. Taking heavy steps to you, your hands grip on the top of the mahogany dresser. Cranking your neck up to him, you swear you feel your blood count decrease when he grips your bicep. His four fingers rapping around his thumb easily when he yanks you with him. Your feet digging into the floor along the way.

“brahms.” Your small voice attempts to sound intimidating. Throwing you recklessly against the headboard, his arms drop at either side of his body, his breathing rugged as he shakes his head.

“you broke the rules.” His knee nudges into the edge of the bed, a hand lazily lying on your ankle.

“I…what rule?” You peal yourself off the cushiony board.

“my rule,” his towel shifts lower on his waist as he inched close, “don’t leave,” his voice mean and grown, anger coursing through him. Not giving you a breath to fabricate a lie as your strenuous gasps full the room.

“Tell me you won’t leave me. Tell Me!” He shakes you roughly, his voice the only thing your mind can register. Both your hands struggle to pry his paws off your neck.

“I…won’t,” your vision is plagued by small black dots and specs of static, “leave you…please.” You succeed in wiggling a finger in the tight grip for a small breath of air. Only for a whimper to leave your vocal cords when he crushes it too. The fight, defiance turns to submission as your arm falls limp to your sides. Blinking in and out of a black sadness.

“I’m sorry,” he hurriedly lets your neck free and holds you in a strangling embrace, his voice soft once more. Nose buried into his chest, smelling of fresh soap and vanilla. You lay stiff in his arms as he incloses your body to his. When he lets you go, you avoid eye contact and take in many breaths. Thankful for oxygen.

“it’s bedtime brahms,” you sigh, slumping your shoulders when you get off the bed. He watches you closely as you leave the cushiony oasis, taking regular steps towards the drawers. Flicking the light switch the room gets pitch black, feeling through the clothes you get your sleeping shirt. Stripping off your top and bra, you throw on the new top. A small lamp clicks on when you bend over to take off your pants. You knew he wasn’t going to leave the room so you didn’t bother to ask. Slipping into the bed, you see his towel hanging on the side table and stay on your part of the bed.

“hm..,” he pulls the covers from you to get your attention.

“yes, brahms,” you mumble, not moving from your position.

“kiss…,” he finally spits out what he was trying to say. Turning to him, you shift the covers off you and lean down to swiftly kiss the cheek of his porcelain mask.

“goodnight,” you manage to slump against the headboard before he grabbed your wrist.

“Kiss,” he demands, his voice normal and whiny as he sits up.

“I just gave you a kiss brahms,” you roll your eyes at him, earning a tighter grip on your arm. He grips the bottom of the glass and pulls it up off his face. The lamp illuminating a small part of his face and darkness consuming the other. Your pupils slightly widen at his features, they match his body and his skin looks soft to the touch.

“Kiss. Now,” he yanks you towards him, letting go of your wrist. Looking at his lips they’re a little chapped but moist in the middle, he was licking them. Putting one hand on the bed and the other on his bare chest, your lips connect. Warm mouths on top of each other in a ginger kiss. As your looking to lean back, he holds the back of your waist. Pulling you closer and splitting your lips to slip his tongue in your mouth. Gripping the sheets, it feels fleshy and hairy. He moans in your mouth, tilting his head to the side and you let go of his thigh. You attempt to keep the kissing at bay but his eagerness wasn’t helping. Breathing heavily through your nose, you push his chest so he could get off you. Gasping for air as your chest pumps up and down. He watches closely, pupils dilated and breathing irregular.

“night..brahms,” you exclaim between breaths.

“it hurts,” he whimpers, “fix it,” he looks down and your eyes follow, only this time you didn’t look away. Thickly swallowing, you spit in your palm, moving the sheets out the way, rapping your palm and fingers around his dick. Sharply he inhales at the touch, looking up to him, you move your hand up and down in slow motions. His body getting jittery with you in front of him, your big eyes making his cock twitch in your hands. Watching you lick your lips made him muffle a moan, his balls begging to be emptied somewhere.

Smoothing your thumb around his pink mushroom tip, you feel an ache between your legs at the precum beading down his veiny dick. His hands jerk to the hem of your shirt and roughly yanks it off. As he leans back against the headboard, he pulls you into his lap and goes stiff. Like he doesn’t know what to do next. Kneeling over him, you move your panties aside, wiping all the precum off his tip and smushing it around your two fingers. Trapping a moan in your throat when you coax your hole with his lube. As he watched you with wide attentive eyes, his hands begin to shake at his sides. Lining his dick up with his entrance, you sit yourself down on him. Successfully being waist to waist with him.

“so, m’ warm,” he breathes heavy, squeezing the plush of your thighs. Fingertips moving up and down, feeling the textures and wavy lines of your stretch marks. Your hips moving back and forth against him, moaning in guilty pleasure. It was horrible. But you loved it and cannot leave. He is too fragile, too broken, too sensitive for you to leave him alone. And he fucks so good. He satisfies you so you don't leave him and honestly, it works. You are in love with him. You will never leave him. And no one will ever take you away from him.

more writing

531 notes · View notes

funnyexel · 11 months

Text

Back For More - Miguel O’Hara x Black Female Reader

The sizzle of eggs frying in the pan echo throughout your kitchen. Practically rushing as you fry it on a low heat, moving back and forth between the kitchen and your room. Hoping it doesn’t burn. Placing a dress against your chest, you move your shoulders from left to right. Briefly imagining yourself wearing the clothing. Placing the perfect sundress on the bed, you check the time, running into the kitchen taking your eggs off the stove once and for all.

“Oh shit.” You sigh, seeing your eggs are dancing on the edges of well done and burnt.

Shrugging and eating it anyway, a tingling feeling glides up your back. Now that you’ve given it the time of day, you shiver at the thought. Ignoring it, knowing that you have somewhere important to be in less than an hour. Throwing the empty plate in the trash, you go to your room. Glancing towards your window for a moment, purposely leaving the blinds cracked as you take off your top. Breasts moving freely as you stride to the bathroom for a quick shower. Taking off your shorts and panties at the same time. Shower cap sitting comfortably on your head as you wash off the heat of the stares. The water moving irregularly each time your mind revisits you being watched. Although eyes aren’t on you at the moment, thankfully. Once you step out the comfort of your own bathroom, you feel dilated pupils drinking in your wet, dripping form.

Dropping the towel on the floor once you’ve dried your skin, you put on your skimpy underwear. Struggling to latch your strapless bra. You check your phone when you succeed. Cursing yourself at the fact you’ll be late for brunch. Rushing through your makeup routine and hairstyle, you still manage to look flawless as you slip on your flowery sundress. The noodled strap dress hugging your curves, plumping out your boobs and butt. All the while staying slightly modest with the length that went all the way to your ankles. Looking around for your sandals as you spray loads of perfume on your body, your head jerks towards the window. A shuffle heard close, almost like someone tripped on something. Brushing it off, you slip on your sandals and grab your purse. The main thing on your mind in the moment being, which route will get you to the restaurant the fastest.

Coming back to your humble abode three hours later, you drop your bag on the side table by the front door and huff. Smiling to yourself at the new memories you just made with your friends. Stumbling in the slightest as you make it to the kitchen for a glass of water, it presents itself to you. The water filled cup resting in your hand as if someone handed it to you. Gulping down the water, you roll your neck and shoulders. The feeling of being watched appearing again.

“Can we just talk.” You exclaim closing your eyes momentarily then opening them. “One conversation.” You slur.

When met with silence, you look out your window, the abandoned building across from you being empty to your glance. Shaking your head, you watch as your window opens for itself, unlocking its mechanism and sliding up, letting a stiff figure through the small space. Hovering over to you in a slow manner.

“I know you can hear me.” You point to the man, his feet connecting with the floor as he gains control over his limbs.

“If you have the guts to watch me you should have the same to talk to me.” You put your hands on your hips, looking up to this built man.

“I wasn’t watching you.” He sternly says, grabbing the top of his mask and yanking it off his head. “I was looking over you.”

“You really think I’d be in danger.” You plainly say, not amused. The water moving through your body is turning into irritation by each passing moment.

“First you wanna move out and now you wanna stalk me. The least you could do for me is answer one question.” You state, watching as he puts his mask aside on the granite counter.

“We aren’t getting back together. There, answered.” He moves his roughed up hair out his face and turns to leave.

“That’s not what I meant.” You grit your teeth, his body immediately going stiff and turning back to you unwillingly. The fluids in his body granting you complete control over him.

“What do you mean, hm? I’m trying to do my best. What do you want from me!” He raises his voice, looking down to you from his elevated position.

“DO NOT YELL IN THIS APARTMENT I PAY FOR!” You snap back.

“I’m sorry.” He hesitates his words, looking over you curiously.

“What did I do to you? Huh? Is it because of how I am now..? Because I can control it.” You plead, sobriety washing over you. And you immediately let him down.

“That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” You ask, hands on your hips waiting for a response. Letting out a strong exhale, he takes a slow step towards you. Holding your hands weakly and moving his hands up your arms to hold you by the shoulders.

“We can’t get back together.” He says to you, leaning in and practically seducing you with how low his voice is.

“why not.” You whisper, swallowing thickly, “You refuse to tell me why…please.” You beg, looking up at him with glossy eyes and a small pout tugging at your lips.

“Stop that.” He defensively says, watching how the water builds up at the burrier of your eyes. Opening his mouth to say more but being at a lost of words. Blinking the innocent tears out your eyes, to which start the waterworks.

“Stop crying.” He utters, all resistance breaking at your vulnerability.

“hey,” you hear him as you weakly wipe the oasis of tears on each cheek, “look at me cariño.” He says, almost sweetly, his voice still having that rugged nature to it.

His bloodshot eyes capture you, not finding it in yourself to look away as he leans in. A burning sensation moving from your chest to your arms, legs and traveling up to your cheeks. Him kissing your right cheek, inhaling your scent all the while your mind is in overdrive with the amount of physical contact. Taking you a moment to release he’s resorted to licking away your tears, his sharp fangs brushing against the soft flesh of your tinted cheek. Watching him from the corner of your eye, he entraps you once more, using his index finger to turn your chin to him. Closing your eyes, your scared of what you know he’ll do.

Smashing your lips in a frenzy of heat and want, you hum into the kiss. Your fright leaving you once your hands reach up into his hair. The fluffy feel pleasant to your fingertips as you massage his scalp. His hands roaming freely down your waist, over your ass and squeezing your plush thighs. Breathing in each-others faces as you move your head from side to side in order to match up with his rapid movements. Breaking away from each other, you look at one another, inhaling and exhaling heavily. Reaching his hand behind your back, he unzips your dress and watches as you slip the straps off your shoulders. The dress tumbling into a pool of lively fabric on the floor.

Spinning your body around, he pushes you towards the counter, prompting you to lean on it. Ass perking up as he plays with the hem of your panties, lifting up the elastic and letting go harshly. The snaps and jolts from your body forcing him to smirk. Waiting patiently for him to make a move, you spread your legs more when his foot taps your ankle. Holding your breath when his finger grazes your pussy lips while pulling back the sticky fabric. Focusing your eyes on the bricked pattern on your kitchen back splash you fight to hold back a scream when he licks your clit. Parting your soaked lips with his tongue. Going as far as teasing your aching hole with a teethy kiss. A hot moan leaving your throat when his sharpened teeth brush against your heat. Using his whole mouth to engulf your pussy in his burning saliva, his tongue to play with your hole.

Feeling how you squish him tightly at his moments. Your mules and shrieks transitioning into a full on scream when his thumb rubs circles on your clit. Guiding you through your first orgasm and abusing your tired core with his quick licks and passionate kisses. Giving your pussy one last kiss he stands up. Looking over your shoulder dazed, he’s naked and sliding your underwear down your legs. Slouched back straightening at the sudden pushing of his dick forcing its way in your shuttering hole. You claw at the granite, running your fingers though your braids and tugging at the roots. Battling another scream when he pushes more, his hips fitting against the round of your ass perfectly. Moving your hips a bit you quickly get used to his abnormal size. The veins that pump through this hot blooded man, shifting along your mushy walls and sending shivering sensations through your stomach.

Snapping his hips into you, he huffs. Understanding how tight you are with every moment he makes. Pulling up to his pink tip and slamming right into your small hole. A mix of grunt and moan coming out your mouth, causing you to rise up off the surface. Doing short yet powerful thrusts, he holds the back of your throat, squeezing on the sides and lowering you back on the counter. Leaning over your body so he could press your face onto the cold material with his hand on your cheek. You view now being the front door and Miguels fit body. His six pack flexing with each slam of his hips into yours. Crossing your legs at the ankles, your pussy pulses more under his gaze, his eyes rolling to the back of his head for a second. At the heavenly feeling of you milking him.

“hm…hah..miguel please.” You plead, unsure of what you’re asking for in particular.

A feeling of estasy and euphoria washing over you as you whine loudly. Left leg shaking under you as you uncross your ankles and try to keep yourself from falling. Miguel leaning down on top of you, swallowing air as if he was holding his breath. Grabbing your waist when he feels you lose your footing under him. Deeply chuckling at your weaken legs, he lifts you off the counter and into his arms bridal style. Moving you to the couch he throws you onto the cushions. Your leg shaking as you sit up from your odd laying position. Pushing you in your chest, right below your collar bone your bare back hits the icy fabric.

“Quédate abajo,” He breathes chest heaving up and down, “this is what you wanted, isn’t it?” He mutters, moving your legs to surround his hips and digging his knees into the couch. Once he’s situated, leaning forward over you and snaking his hand onto your neck. Loosely holding the flesh as he looks over your body to make sure you’re fine.

“You wanted to cry your way into my pants, hm? Pequeña zorra.” You nod to the best of your ability as he shakes you. Your mind not processing the language switch.

His one palm hiding your neck entirely, holding you in place as he slaps your sensitive pussy with his cock, and sliding it inside you. Grinding into you, his tip kisses your cervix and he pulls out, head tilting back for a moment as he sighs. Looking down again, he aligns himself up and snaps his hips back into you. A whine leaving your lips. His crimson eyes burning into yours and keeping your attention.

“keep makin’ those dumb noises…you dumb girl.” He huffs, croaking out a soft moan as you squeeze him tightly.

“oh fuck cariño, fuck, fuck!” He recites, pounding into you with each breath shattering stroke. Your gasps bringing him pleasure, your shaky legs giving a huge stroke to his ego.

“m-more…oh-“ You stutter shamefully, his hips speeding up, chasing his high as he bites his lip drawing blood.

Focusing your blurry vision on his blood dripping onto your stomach. But he doesn’t care, all you see is a man in heat. Chasing his own release as he uses you, seeing you as nothing more than his dumb play thing, a simple cock sleeve. And he gets what he wants. A steaming hot fluid flowing through your gummy walls as he continues to grind his hips into you. His elbows on either side of your head as he catches his breath above you. Your hands sneaking to his muscled shoulders, a small smile creeping to your lips as you rub and massage the tuff flesh. Right when you think he’ll collapse right next to you, he jumps up. Pulling you into his lap, his cum traveling down your womb and leaking out of your plugged pussy.

“You wanted this, remember?” He whispers against your cheek, getting no other response from you than a throaty moan.

A/n: Isn’t this man so fucking fine omg. When I saw him at the early release I swooned, even though he was trifling, he’s still so damn hot.