#Adam Driver character

[mrs-gucci]

Drive-In

{ flip zimmerman x female reader }

anon

Can I please request going to a horror movie drive in with Flip where he hopes the movie will be louder than the noises you both make lol :)

warnings. SMUT (18+ ONLY), high risk sex (car sex around other people), reverse cowgirl, barebacking, creampie.

word count: 525

★ written for sextember 2023 ★

** CLICKING “KEEP READING” MEANS YOU UNDERSTAND & ACKNOWLEDGE ALL OF THE WARNINGS LISTED ABOVE AND ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, YOUR CONTENT CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. MINORS DNI. **

collage by me :)

Creepy music plays loudly through the drive-in speakers as the spectators in surrounding cars stare up at the large movie screen, eating their popcorn and drinking their sodas hesitantly, waiting for the impending jump scare.

You and Flip, however, had lost interest in the movie about ten minutes ago. Well, you didn't lose interest, per se. More like you two became much more interested in one another than in the movie.

Lets just say that the gasps and cries from the scared on-screen protagonists aren't the only ones happening at the theater this evening.

Flip grunts as you sink down onto his stiff length repeatedly, hips thrusting up instinctively against you. The truck's windows are starting to really steam up, the air between you two incredibly thick while you ride him.

You're holding tightly onto the grab handle with one hand while the other rests on his hand, the one currently gripping your hip tightly. Your eyes are on the movie and maybe somewhere in your mind you're paying attention to the horrors occurring, but really, it's just pictures on a screen. Your mind is in a whole different place right now.

"S-Shit," you breathe, biting your lip to try and keep the noise down. "Oh god, baby..."

As much as Flip loves this, well, pretty much public sex, he does try to be extra careful since he's law enforcement. He's really hoping the movie's louder than the noises you two are making and the gentle squeaking of his truck's shocks.

He groans softly, cigarette pinched between his teeth, ashes starting to fall off the tip. "Goddamnit, princess...a little faster for me...mhm, that's it..."

You speed up as he requested, resulting in a spike in both your pleasures. Matching noises of pure lust and passion escape from both of your lips.

"Fuck...mm!"

Flip starts thrusting up into you, chasing his rapidly approaching orgasm. The cars around you seem none the wiser and luckily for you two, the windows are not completely steamed over, so all that can really be seen are your silhouettes.

As he fucks you, you take the opportunity to reach down and rub your clit, moaning softly as the pleasure pulses through you. You're close, very close, and getting closer by the second--

"O-Oh fuck," Flip groans as he cums, pushing his cum up into you with rapid thrusts. "Mmm, good girl...shit..."

Feeling him cum is what sends you over the edge, and you continue rubbing yourself through it as the familiar waves of pleasure roll over your body.

Eventually you both come to a stop and Flip pulls out, tucking himself away while you pull your underwear back into place. As soon as you turn around in his lap, Flip has put out his cigarette and pulls you in for a kiss, his arms wrapping around you to hold you close.

A thought come to you and you smile against his lips, chuckling softly. He pulls away, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

"What is it?"

Your laughter grows a bit. "I told you this was a good movie."

He laughs, shaking his head and giving your ass a nice firm smack.

"You're cute."

****

sextember taglist: @rynwritesstuff @safarigirlsp @babbushka

if you'd like to be tagged in future sextember works, please let me know via comment on this post or the original sextember post!

[strangunddurm]

Mine

Masterlist

Pairing: Flip Zimmerman x fem!reader

Summary: Flip Zimmerman was a man that liked to eat his cake and have it, too.

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: PinV sex, unprotected sex, fingering, masturbation, swearing, dirty talk, oral (fem receiving). 

A/N: It's been ages since I wrote something so I'm so proud of myself for finally finishing something.

It was common knowledge that Flip Zimmerman was utterly and completely infatuated with you. You were it for him. The one he would marry, build a house for, have kids with. You would be his end, but you were not his beginning.

It was also common knowledge that Flip Zimmerman was on an apparent path to sleep with everyone he could that wasn’t you. Fuck, finger, and fondle like he wasn’t an officer of the law and he wasn’t in a very public bar at that very moment. You could see his hand run along her leg, caressing it with the pads of his fingers before it disappeared beneath the fabric of her skirt.

She threw her head back, laughing like nobody was watching, but, of course, you were. Your eyes were always lingering on his figure, just as his were yours. He watched you as he traced the lace of her panties, as he dipped them under the fabric; he watched you as he guided her lips to his; he watched you as he shattered your heart, always knowing that the comfort of your arms would always be there to sooth him in the end.

You often found yourself wondering: why? Why weren’t you enough for him at this point? Flip had this ability where he could string you along enough so that you, yourself, would feel guilty thinking of another man. Your possible unwillingness weren’t the reason for Flip’s hesitancy to commit, it was his. The unwilling fool in love with the same person he had always loved. Or perhaps you were the fool? Two fools in love that could never let the other one go.

Your friends often wondered why you subjected yourself to the torture of witnessing his lips upon another’s. You didn’t know how to explain to them that you only existed because of him. However demeaning and desperate it sounded, it was true. Whilst others existed for bettering the world or something other, you were made just to be his.

You thought for a while that you could live without him. That you could break free from his hold and flee from the place where everything reminded you of him but it was impossible. It didn’t make sense, how a man could possess you so entirely with just a whisper of attention. You thought it to be your own fault; a bleeding consequence of hope that wrecked your heart beyond anyone else’s repair. All you could do was wait for him. For you would forever be missing him otherwise, regretting not taking the possibility of even the tiniest something.

So, you found yourself there, putting on a front of indifference as you tried not to watch every stupid move Flip made in the arms of another. She was smug. It was so obvious from the way her eyes would flicker over to you every now and then as his lips caressed her shoulder or her neck.

She knew of Flip’s fondness for you, having seen the way he had given you a sliver of attention by the bar, letting his hand ghost over your hip before she had successfully lured him away from you and into her arms.

You were zoned out, barely hearing your friends’ voices as you stared hard at them. Your lip was near bloody from your nervous chewing as you, almost ritualistically, dragged your teeth over it again and again.

“How long are you going to keep doing this to yourself?” The words were spoken in your ear, your best friends arm coming to wrap around you, pulling you into her embrace.

“I…” She didn’t allow you to continue on the miserable spiel that she had heard so many times before.

“I don’t want to hear it. Not again. You need to realise that you’re worth more than whatever the hell this whole thing is,” She pleaded, pressing a kiss against your temple. “You have to stop doing this to yourself.”

“I don’t know if I can,” you sounded so fragile at that moment. Your voice wavered at the end, fading out as everything you felt became almost too much.

“Yes, you can. You just need to realise that you don’t owe him anything. Sitting here completely miserable isn’t going to make him change or do anything different.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’ve been here with you! Every night we go out to have fun, he comes along and ruins it.”

“No, he doesn’t.” You turned to look at her as you forced the words out harshly. But the look in her eyes made the feigned anger falter.

“I love you. You deserve more. Try to enjoy your life before you realise it’s too late,” She said, squeezing your shoulder.

Did you really deserve more? You had been caught up in the web of Flip for so long that you truly did believe that staying completely devoted to him was the only way forward. You knew he would eventually tire and stop indulging himself in others. It was an unconventional relationship, unfavourable to you in every sense.

But who was to say that you weren’t allowed to enjoy others? Just the way he were? An innocent tryst with another that would scratch that itch not even your fingers could ease late at night.

You let your eyes trail over the inhabitants of the local watering hole. There were the usuals there, sitting at the bar, nursing their beers. A group of frat boys were in the corner, cheering over shots. It wasn’t until a pair of dark brown eyes met your own that your interested was piqued.

You probably wouldn’t have dared made a move if he hadn’t come sauntering over. He didn’t walk like Flip. Flip’s walk was self-assured, dominating in a subtle way. This guy walked in a cocky way, shoulders swaying with every step as he though himself holier than thou. It was off-putting, but you thought you owed it to yourself to at least try.

“Saw you watching me over there.” His attempt at flirting was just as cocky as his walk.

“Oh, hahah..” Your laugh was awkward as you fumble for a reply. “Do you come here often?”

“First time actually, I’m here visiting my brother.” He motioned toward some guy in the back that you couldn’t see.

“That’s nice,” You said awkwardly.

He introduced himself as he took perch on the barstool next to you, shaking your hand weakly.

“So, what do you do for fun around here?” He asked, motioning for the bartender to refill both of your glasses at the same time.

“Ehm… Come here, I guess.” You waved your hand in the air, uncommittedly. Anxiety was flooding your nerves, practically inhibiting your ability to speak. You let your eyes trail over the room again quickly. Flip was still hands-deep in that woman’s skirt, your friends had slipped off somewhere else, getting lost in others.

The man, Chris, held a one-sided conversation without seeming to notice your less than keen interest. The thought of letting go and trying to flirt with somebody else was always easier in theory rather than practice.

It wasn’t his fault, if you were somebody else you might’ve enjoyed it. But all you could think about was the way his eyes were too dark, his hair too light, and his voice to high to remind you of Flip.

“Listen,” He placed his hand on your thigh. High up, bold, wanting. “I really like you, what do you say about getting out of here?”

You didn’t have a chance to respond before a chest pressed against your back.

“She’s not going anywhere with you.”

You felt faint hearing Flip’s voice rumble through his chest as he pulled himself closer to you. His hand wrapped around Chris’s wrist, forcing it away from your leg.

“Hey, man, we were having a conversation here.” Chris was foolish. It wasn’t his fault, he wasn’t from here, after all. He didn’t know the perfectly concealed rage that could simmer under Flip’s skin when he felt like he was being disrespected.

“I’m going to offer you a piece of advice.”

“Flip, don’t-” Interjecting was pointless. Flip did whatever Flip wanted.

“You should take your drink, go back to whatever lowly corner you came from, and stay there. Get it through your thick skull that you’re not wanted here.” Flip roughly pushed the glas of beer Chris had been nursing on the bar, it’s content sloshing over the sides as it almost toppled over.

The silence that followed hung in the air, permeating it, polluting it. It didn’t take long for Chris to visibly crumble under Flip’s stare but it was almost as if he didn’t want to admit it to himself. He didn’t want to give in to the menacing man that had appeared out of nowhere. Reasonable, perhaps, but entirely futile. Flip would always get what he wanted in the end, no matter what.

Chris left without a word, sparing you a pitiful glance before he was gone and all that was Flip took over your senses as he rounded you, coming to a stop so you were chest to chest.

You refused to look at him, staring straight ahead, focusing on the way his chest would calmly breath in and out as he waited.

“Look at me,” His voice was low, steady. You wanted to, of course, but you were stubborn. Just when you were putting yourself first, there he was again. A forever keg in your wheels, keeping you in the same place.

His fingers were soft against your chin as he urged it upwards, making you look at him.

He was smiling. Not a full on grin, but that sweet, cheeky little smile that held so much mirth that you wanted to hit him. It’s like he’d been waiting for this, waiting for you to act out and finally do something for yourself.

“Wipe that smile of your face,” you hissed out. “What could you possible have to smile about?”

“You.”

“Oh, yeah, because it is so funny ruining my fucking life.”

“Ruining it?”

“Yeah, ruining it.”

“You should’ve just said something if you felt that way.” You almost laughed at that. It wasn’t like you hadn’t said something. It felt like all you did was talk, and all he did was not care.

“Cut me a fucking break, Flip. Don’t act like you don’t know what you’ve been doing to me. This- this game you’ve been playing, toying with my heart. One minute it feels like you might actually want me but then the next you go and fucksomebody else and I’m just suppose to pretend that it’s all fine?”

“It’s not?” He said, playfully.

“Fuck you.”

“Stop swearing, and keep your voice down.”

“What? So that your whore won’t hear us?”

“She means nothing,” He said

“So why do you keep doing this? Why keep stringing me along?” You were defeated. Your relationship with Flip was strange. Peculiar. Unexplainable in certain aspects as you yourself did not entirely know exactly what you two were.

You looked up at him, tears brimming in your eyes as all the hurt you had felt over the past however-long caught up to you. He was looking down at you, as if in wonder. Was it possible that Flip Zimmerman was naive to the way he had treated you? To the way he had made you suffer? Had you been imagining it all in your head?

He didn’t look sorry, he didn’t sound sorry, but when the apology tumbled out of his mouth, you accepted it. Perhaps it was you who were naive but you wanted a moment of happiness with him. Even if it was a moment entirely clouded by delusion.

You nodded your head, a small movement of acceptance that made Flip light up.

Flip would always shine brighter than any star you had ever seen. He took your breath away and filled you with a rush of serotonin every time you gazed into his eyes for even a brief second. His eyes were like molten gold, blinding you as they tinkled. Devotion to him and only him was inevitable.

“Will you come home with me?” The answer was obvious. The question had been what you had waited for. Taking his hand and slipping out through the door before any of your friends still caught in reason could stop you.

His hand dipped between your legs, fingers mapping out a path to your most sacred place the second he pushed you through the door of his home.

"Look at you, already so wet for me." Flip chuckled darkly. He knew you couldn't resist him. Your need for him was as deep as his need was for you.

His lips met yours in a searing kiss that took your breath away. His tongue caressed yours as teeth clashed.

His fingers toyed with your panties, teasing you. He knew how desperate you were for anything he would give you.

He took his time, teasing your more and more before he finally was gracious enough to slide a finger inside of you. Just a single finger to test you. You walls clamped down around him tightly, gripping him, coaxing him to give you more. He pumped it in and out of you slowly, so slowly that you thought you might lose your mind if he didn't give you something more, and you voiced so much.

"Please, Flip." What you needed was clear. But that didn’t mean Flip would be so easy to give in.

"You’ll get more, sweetheart. Don’t you worry.” He said sweetly before withdrawing from you completely.

"Flip-"

"You're so impatient." He chided you, tutting teasingly with a lazy smile on his lips. “Go to the bedroom.” He commanded whilst motioning his head in its direction. You were quick to obey, of course, feet moving swiftly as you stumbled your way on shaky legs through the halls and onto his bed.

You flipped onto it in excitement, eager for his touch once again.

“Is this what you wanted? To be one of my whores?” He asked as he undressed slowly, unbuttoning his flannel and letting his jeans fall to the floor before he took a stand by the foot of the bed. He trailed his hands up your legs equally as slow before grabbing a hold of your panties and pulling them off you. You couldn’t get any words out to respond, whining with need.

The evidence of your excitement was clear to him, almost dripping and shining in the low light. A sane man wouldn’t be able to hold back having a women presented so willingly to him with her legs spread wide and skirt bunched up around her hip, chest heaving with excitement. And of course, Flip was a sane man, in some sense at least, for he was quick to crawl in between your legs and mouth attached to your clit.

Digging his fingers into your thighs, he hauled one of them onto his shoulder and connected his mouth to your sweet cunt.

The sounds of your breathless moans were intoxicating as he suckled your clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the stiff nubb.

Your knees fought against his shoulders as your hand came to cover your mouth, willing any sounds to stay inside of you as you bit down softly as you were overwhelmed by the pleasure rushing through you.

“You taste so fucking good, sweetheart.” Flip praised in a panted breath before diving back in.

You fought to keep your eyes open as your hips moved up and down in a desperate attempt to grind your aching clit against his mouth and nose in search for that perfect sensation that would drive you over the edge.

Your hand slid into Flip’s hair, gliding through it before grasping a firm hold of it as a wave after wave of moans finally made their way out of you.

Flip had already made you come once when he slid his fingers into you, continuing his ministrations on your clit with his mouth. His movement were much rougher than what they had been before, thrusting them into you expertely, hitting that sweet spot of yours over and over again.

Your back arched into the air and mouth fell open at the overstimulation. It was exquisite.

“Oh, oh, Flip. I’m gonna cum.” You whined desperately. “Oh, God.”

You clung to his arm in an attempt to hold on to any sort of sanity but it was all for nought. Your legs spasmed as you came with a cry.

Flip tried to hold you down as he never let up despite your half hearted please, flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit again and again and again. He worked you through your orgasm, never relenting as your silent whimpers spured him on. You had such a tight hold on his hair that it made him groan, sending a wave of vibrations through you that caused you to gasp. He only stopped once your whimpers had grown in volume to a steady whine of pleas.

“You’re such a good girl.” Flip praised as he came up, hovering over you. “You gonna let me fuck you, sweetheart?”

“Yes! Please, Flip.”

He tugged at his hard and weeping cock a few times as he admired you. You were breath taking like this, legs parted, eyes hazy from your orgasm, cunt dripping, ready for him.

"You’re gonna look so gorgeous, covered with my cum." Flip's voice was husky as he leaned down and pulled you closer to him by your face before planting a sloppy, wet kiss on your lips as he came to rest between your hips, a single arm keeping him up.

He dragged his thick and cum weeping cock through your folds a few times, thoroughly coating it in your slickness. The anticipation was killing you. His fingers and tongue weren't enough, you wanted more, needed it.

You grabbed a hold of his shoulders, pulling him closer even to you in desperation.

"Please, Flip." You whispered, ready for him.

The sigh the both of you let out when he finally slipped all the way into your cunt was one of relief. You had missed this, had missed him.

Flip didn't give you time to adjust to him before he started pounding into you at a pace that was brutal in nature, just the way he knew you liked it.

“You’re such a dirty fucking whore.” He spat at you and you clenched around him in response. "Look at you, so desperate for my dick you could almost cry." Being his whore and whatever he wanted was everything you had ever wanted since the moment you had laid eyes on him.

He was so deep inside of you that you barely knew what to do with yourself. Flip's loud groans were bouncing around the walls of his room, blended in with your own gasps from every thrust into you.

Your walls were clenched so tightly around him, drawing him deeper and deeper inside.

"Fuck" You groaned. "Feels so- fucking good." You shakily breath out.

"This is what you wanted right? My cock so deep within you you’ll feel me for days" He cooed, slowing down just slightly, but each thrust was still as sharp, still as precise, and hard, and calculated.

A wailing yes! left your lips. You were sure you would be able to feel Flip's hands on your hips as you would nurse your hangover tomorrow, and most likely the day after that as well. You would feel him in every step you took. Forever.

"Harder." You pleaded.

He pulled out so just his tip was left in you, waiting there for just a second before slamming back into you again, buried to the hilt. The groan Flip let out sent tingles down your spine and caused you to clench even tighter around him, triggering another moan from him.

"I love it when you do that." He praised, followed by another rut into you.

He continued pumping into yours sweet cunt, drawing moans from you that were filthy. The sound of skin slapping and noises of pleasure mixed together as they bounced on the walls and around the room.

His thrusts had picked up in pace one again, ruthless and reckless as he fucked deeper and deeper into you. You were trembling against him, breath hitching, getting caught in your chest as you almost forgot how to breathe. You could feel your release mounting quickly once again, shockwaves gripping your body and rolling through you with every buck into you.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come,"

"No, you're not." Flip withdrew from you completely, flipping down on the bed beside you. You were drunk on the feeling of him, needy and desperate, ready to take everything he would give to you.

His legs were spread, cock standing on full attention, bobbing against his stomach, it's tip coloured an angry red, ready to be inside of you again.

"Come on then." He pulled you out of the short-lived trance you had been in over the sight of him. You though again of how there was something so ethereal about him, something other than just his looks, something that would always draw you back in and keep you on his hook.

You were quick in your movements, throwing a leg around his hips and hoisting yourself upright, causing him to chuckle over your desperation.

"Eager, are we?" He welcomed you with open arms, hands coming up to rest on your hips once again, as he gazed up at you with a smile on his face.

He helped you pull your wrinkled dress over your head, placing open mouthed kisses on every inch of your skin he could reach. His lips attached themselves to your perked nipple, sucking it into his mouth and releasing it with a pop.

"You're so fucking gorgeous." He sounded as if he was in awe simply over the sight of you.

You sank down swiftly, engulfing him with your tight walls, stopping only when you were at the base, stuffed full of him.

"Oh, fuck, Flip!" The change in angle had you convinced that he was deeper in you than ever before, the tip of him nestling against your cervix.

"You feel so good like this." Flip moaned. He tapped two fingers against the side of your thigh, signalling you to move and you were more than happy to oblige. Your feet were securely rooted on the floor and you placed your hands on the walls to give yourself the leverage and support you needed to begin riding him.

He let you control every movement; let you set the pace as you slid up and down on his throbbing cock. Flip's hands were exploring every inch of you that they could reach, massaging your breasts, caressing your thighs, sliding across your back, and then, finally, they found their way to the apex of your thighs and started firmly circling your clit.

Flip let out a loud grunt every time you slammed yourself down onto him. It was a sound you wanted to hear every day, every waking moment and in every vivid dream.

The steady pace that you had managed to keep was slowly becoming nothing as you felt yourself loosing control over your limbs the closer you climbed to that high you were chasing. The muscles in your stomach were tightening rapidly over the coiling tension and your walls gripped him even tighter.

"Say my name."

"What?" You weren't lucid enough to possibly begin to understand what he meant at that moment.

"Say. My. Name." He repeated, making sure to punctuate every single word with a small thrust upward to meet you as you came down on him.

His name spilled out of your mouth just a few seconds later in the form of a moan.

"Who’s making you feel this good?" You weren't as quick to heed his words this time, the building pressure between your legs taking up all of your attention.

His hands were back on your hips, forcing you up, slipping out of you, and then guiding you dominantly into the position he wanted with your face pressed into the sheets and your ass high up in the ar. He was swift to enter you again, you had barely even had time to complain over the loss of him before he was drilling into you.

"Flip!" You shouted his name as you finally came, tumbling over the edge as stars were painted behind your eyelids. Your legs were shaking, spasming, through the waves, words of gibberish leaving your mouth as he made you babble like a brook. He hadn't even faltered in his movements, continuing to pump into you as he chased his own climax. He was panting loudly in between groans and the sound of skin slapping against each other.

"Who owns this pussy?"

"You." Another sharp thrust into you.

"Who owns this pussy?"

"You, Flip. Oh, god, you, Flip!" Small droplets of tears were leaking from the corner of your eyes as Flip was steadily driving you to cum again as he fucked into you.

You hadn't felt this way before, you didn't even know you could feel this way; the overwhelming stimulation that was rushing through your blood, lighting your nerves on fire, making you want to stay right here, right now, forever.

"That's fucking right." Flip came with a deep jerk into you, pulling out to come all over your back before entering you again to give you a few last thrilling pumps.

You laid there on his bed in a heap, totally out of it as he calmly came to rest beside you. He coaxed you onto your back so that he could plant a sweet kiss on your lips. Uttering words that made your erratic heart pump even faster.

“All mine.”

Thank you for reading! Please check out my Masterlist if you want to read more.

Tags in reblog.

[cndcrd]

ADCU Valentine's Day Cards 💌✨

[glassbxttless]

Anything with Maurizio

Her Love is my Religion

Maurizio Gucci x f!Reader

summary: Even after four years of marriage, Maurizio still loves you like it’s Day One.

word count: 1.0k+

warnings: 18+ (no sexual themes, but i DO NOT want minors interacting with my content in any capacity), this is a short one! just fluff, alcohol mention

He can see you from across the room, that dress that dips so low— shows just the perfect amount of skin. Your hair is perfectly in place, a wine glass in your hand. You’ve got the prettiest smile on your face, legs crossed at the ankle. You’re speaking to his mother. He orders himself another drink, eyes drifting from the woman he loves to the hoard of men— including his father— sitting at a table a few paces to the left. One day he’ll be at that table, discussing the future of Gucci. But for now, he stands at the bar. He admires his wife from afar. Thinks he couldn’t possibly have gotten this lucky. Like all of the stars aligned just for him.

He thanks the bartender, pushing himself off of the counter. He smoothed his jacket just a bit, hand curled around his glass as he walked over to where you stand. His free arm curls around your waist, head dipping down to press a kiss against your temple. His mother smiles warmly, hand pressed against her chest. “Mio figlio.” She sighs happily, her heart bursting. She’s so proud of where Maurizio is in his life. Of how happy he is with you on his arm. She takes a moment to admire the protective hold he has on you, before she’s looking over for her own husband— excusing herself quietly.

Maurizio smiles, giving your hip a squeeze. “Let’s head out, mia piccola colomba.” He’s tipping your chin up, making you look him in the eye before he’s kissing you. He’s not got a care in the world as he does. Doesn’t pay any mind that there are people around or the fact that you’re at an event. The way your dress hugs your body in all of his favorite places reminds him of your wedding. It reminds him of your bodies pressed close, his hands on your hips and your head on his chest as you swayed to the live music his mother insisted on for your reception. The gleam of your ring under the flashing light reminds him of that night— laying you down in the bed you’ve shared for four years now, how the lamp shone directly onto the gold, letting him know you were officially a Gucci. His wife.

You pull away from his kiss, pressing a hand against his chest with a smile. “lead the way.” you tell him, eager to slip away from the conversations you’ve had to be keeping up on. His hand, large and heavy, wraps around yours. He can feel your fingers twist and tangle into his, something you’ve always done. Ever since that fateful meeting. You’d hold his hand so tightly, let him know you weren’t going anywhere. He brings your hand to his lips as he places both his glass and yours down on an empty tray. He kisses your skin gently, using his free hand to push the door open. His mother and father spot your departure and he just gives them a subtle wave. He’s getting the night with his wife whether anyone likes it or not.

It’s not a long walk, back to your apartment. But Maurizio slips his jacket off and wraps it around your shoulders just as he had so many times before. Your heels are the next thing to leave and he reaches for them, holding them in the opposite hand he’s holding yours in. “Have fun tonight?” he asks softly.

And the truth was, yes. You did have a nice time, believe it or not. You watched Maurizio mingle with those he hasn’t seen in years. Watched him light up because of jokes, smile at ideas he hadn’t thought of, and get praised by others. You watched deep blushes set in on his cheeks at times, you saw him even hug his father. “Yeah, I had a nice time.” You admit, savoring the details for yourself. He doesn’t need to know just how closely you have been watching him tonight, he might as well have an idea already with how closely he was watching you. “We should do it again sometime.” That causes a laugh to rumble out of Maurizio’s chest. “Oh, come on Mau. It wasn’t that bad!” You laugh at yourself. Maurizio had never enjoyed these kinds of things.

Maurizio makes quick work of letting you into your home, flipping the first light switch by the door. “Let’s take a bath?” He suggests. You watch as he disappears into the bedroom off the hall, untying his tie. The ruffling of clothes followed by the sound of the tub in the master bathroom filling up. There’s a large garden tub in there, fortunately big enough for you and Maurizio. And maybe that’s exactly how Mau loves to unwind after these kinds of things. Loves soaking in the hot water, relieving all the tension in his sore muscles— as he holds you close and thanks the moon for bringing you to him.

You’re quick to discard the jacket from your shoulders, leaving it in a messy pile of fabric at the end of your sofa. When you enter your bedroom, the master bathroom door is open wide and you can see Maurizio bent over the side of the tub to adjust the temperature of the water. You let your dress fall from your body. It again, forms a small pile at the end of your bed, just as the jacket had. You smile lovingly, Maurizio has a heart of gold. Just for you. Your underwear forms another small pile at the entrance of the bathroom, your arms wrapping around his waist from behind. His hand covers where yours are locked in place and he smiles, letting you lean against his back. He loves these moments with you more than anything, the ones he can just relax into and not have to worry about the world around you. He stands up straight once the bath has settled in fully, bubbles climbing up the sides of the tub. He’s turning, pulling you into his arms. He smiles down at you, glasses still perched high on your nose. “Four years of loving you and my feelings have never changed.”

You can feel yourself growing hot, unsure if it’s from Maurizio sharing his sentiments or just how exposed you are in front of him while he’s standing in his boxers and t-shirt. His arms tighten his grip around your waist and you sigh lovingly, leaning into his chest. “Mine have never changed either, amore.”

tags ;; @peachyproserpina @eeopxlt

[toxicanonymity]

Empire Builders. Ben's Hardware Ch. 3

5.4k / Ben Solo x Rey / ch 1, ch 2

WARNINGS: I8+ mdni. Sexual tension, gaslighting, another woman tries/fails to seduce him, angst, dubcon via uninformed force connection, ben jacks off, unsafe P in V (in force connection). Hardware Store AU explained. Strategic planning humor. Excessive plot. Beta/Star wars consultant: @dark-scape A/N: Written in February 2023. This chapter has far more world building & background than necessary. Like I set up way too much stuff for a miniseries, but I wanted to answer some reader questions. And at least the world is constructed in my head for future use.

Ben opens his eyes and looks around his office.  There's a leather couch, a chaise, an end table, a credenza stocked with high-end liquor.  It's certainly too high-end for the general manager of a local hardware store, but Ben likes things a certain way, and so do the clientele. He zips up his pants.  With Rey, he feels like he's doing nothing wrong.  He has his own rules for himself about the force connection, although they continue to evolve. 

The first time it happened, it took him by surprise. He felt a familiar tingle in his nose, the same faint tingle he gets when he uses the force.  And there she was in her bed.  He watched her for a few minutes, growing more and more aroused.  Then he gave it a shot - he invited her.  And there she was in his house.  After that, all she had to do was want him and he could tune in at will. 

He may tune into Rey's cute little thoughts about him sometimes, and especially her sexy little thoughts, but he only interacts when he's clearly invited.  When she desperately wants him.

In a way, Rey is in control – or, that's what Ben tells himself.  If Rey wants something from him sexually, he makes sure she either asks for it or takes it herself. He merely makes suggestions.  He opens her eyes to the possibilities. Rey may not understand it, but Ben barely understands it himself.  Certainly not well enough to explain it to her.  It would be like trying to explain to someone why water is wet or how to breathe.  It's not Ben's fault Rey doesn't know she's force sensitive. Most people don't know about the force at all, and they're better off that way.  

Ben never had a chance at a normal life.  His parents dedicated their lives and his to using their powers for good.  He didn't understand why teachers asked what kids wanted to be when they grew up.  Did anyone have a choice?  Ben even went to the FBI academy at Quantico and started in the Behavioral Analysis Unit.  It just . . . Didn't work out.  Or, it didn't work out *the way his parents wanted*, to say the least.  

His parents' names followed him everywhere.  Everyone had this very specific idea of who he was and what he was about before they even met him.  Everyone had expectations. His entire career was laid out for him. He'd probably be the director one day.  Without the freedom to be his own person, he grew bitter and angsty.  It was only once he interacted with the most dangerous criminals that Ben realized the choices he could make. 

Ben feels like he's protecting Rey by not cluing her in.  The only thing he feels a little guilty for is using a Jedi mind trick on her.  It's a little gross in principle, but he was  protecting her by making her forget what she saw between him and Hux.  Ben works for dangerous people, and Rey is far too curious for her own good. If Rey were to find out the store is funneling supplies to a dangerous criminal organization, it would not only ruin the whole set-up, but her life would be at risk.  

-----

Ben goes back downstairs to the store and passes Hux on the stairs, who's on his way up to the office.  Hux asks, "Want me to run those numbers for tomorrow?"

Ben has no idea what Hux is talking about.  He sighs, "What's tomorrow?"

Hux looks worried that Ben forgot.  "Uh, the retreat, right? Corporate?" He uses finger quotes when he says corporate. 

"Fuck me," Ben mutters under his breath.  "Yeah.  Thanks." 

How could he have forgotten? He knows how - Rey is a total distraction.  Empire Building's strategic planning retreat - what a joke, but Ben doesn't have a choice.  Who plans a retreat a week before Christmas? An organization that considers itself your only family.

Ben wants to get out of it.  "Hey, Hux - shouldn't one of us stay here to watch the store?" 

"Yup, that's why I'm attending remotely. I'll be here in the office and go down to the store during the breakout sessions." 

"Actually, I wouldn't mind staying. You deserve the break," Ben offers.

"Ben, no offense, but you know nothing about running a hardware store.  That's why I'm here in the first place."

"It's only two days," Ben says.  He's annoyed, but can't really dispute the assertion that he doesn't know what he's doing.  He's a hobby carpenter, which used to give him a false sense of handiness, but he's eaten his fair share of humble pie since opening the store.  If he had to run any other department besides Wood, he'd be in trouble.  

Hux sighs. "Alright, I wasn't supposed to say anything, but you're being honored.  You can't skip out." 

Honored? That intrigues Ben.  He tries not to seem too excited, though.  "Whatever," he says.  "Yeah, run the numbers, but run them by me before you share anything."

A buzz saw whirrs in the distance as Ben steps back onto the floor of the hardware store. He wants to learn to manage the store himself, he just doesn't want to learn from Hux. He walks by the key-making station and the staff member greets him.  He thinks about shadowing the keymaker to learn something new, but he goes to Lumber instead. They're filling an order of custom-length 2"x4"s.  

"Want a break? I've got it," Ben says.  The woman stops the saw and offers Ben her protective glasses.  He takes off his jacket, puts on his apron, and rolls up his sleeves.  He pulls on a pair of canvas gloves.  He can feel the woman checking out his ass as he bends over to get the first piece of lumbar lined up just right. "15 minute break," he tells her. "You don't have to clock out."  She walks off then Ben fires up the saw and cuts the wood.  

He's finishing up by the time she comes back.  He gives her the goggles back.  

Ben puts his jacket back on, collar popped, and goes out to the nursery and picks up the water dispenser.  He waters the tropical plant section and inhales the fresh smell of lush foliage mingling in the air with the sawdust from carpentry.  He thinks about how much he enjoys the hardware store.  He would love to just manage the hardware store one day and have that be his whole job.  If only things were that simple. 

----

The next morning, Ben drives his bulletproof Range Rover with dark tinted windows to the retreat, which is two hours away.  He dresses in all black and lays a charcoal blazer in the passenger seat.  He pulls up to the hotel at the last possible minute.  He opens the glove box and puts his old beat up Glock in the back of his pants.  He doesn't carry it all the time. It's truly gnarly, but it works, and it's a family heirloom.  It was returned to him from the District Attorney's office after his grandfather died.  He puts on his blazer and makes sure the notched Mandarin collar is standing -  he doesn’t like his neck exposed.  Then, he tosses his keys to the valet

There are two huge guards at the door dressed darkly in plain clothes.  Ben knows one of them and gives him knuckles. 

There are only a couple dozen people attending but they've branded it like it's some huge event.  Ben would prefer to sit with his back to the wall in any given room, but there's a seat reserved for him in the second row. The retreat kicks off with a speech from the Emperor, which is a big deal. No one knows his real name and Ben has never heard of him appearing in public before.  He hangs on every word at first, but it's a pretty general speech about the importance of loyalty and how prosperous they are together.  Yawn.  Then he talks about adversity.  

He continues, "As we all know, we had some challenges last year. Now, I don't have anything against journalists - heck, my granddaughter is one - but they tend to stick their noses in places they shouldn't." The crowd murmurs. Ben starts listening closer again   

"And it's not like the old days where we can take care of one problem and it just goes away.  They've gotten smart.  They've gotten digital.  Setting up dead man switches and whatnot.  Anyway, after the Post article last year, and the boycotts, each of our biggest suppliers suddenly grew a conscience at the same time. Construction came to a total standstill.  For two months we built nothing." He lets that linger in silence for a moment, then continues, "Until one of you had an idea." His eyes twinkle as he looks at Ben.  A few people quietly cheer.  Someone behind Ben pats him on the back and Ben turns his head a little and smiles on acknowledgement but keeps his focus straight ahead.  

In truth, Ben saw the Post article coming.  The way they were handling their business it felt inevitable.  But it would have been a big risk for Ben to try to change how they were doing things.  Instead, he started anticipating the fallout and plotting to save the day.  

"Ben's Hardware, ladies and gentlemen." He gestures to Ben.  "We're back in business."  He makes Ben come up to the front and presents him with a ruby signet pinky ring.  When he sits back down, Ben sees Hux sends an applause on the Zoom screen behind the speaker podium.  Ben's tries not to roll his eyes. 

"That was real strategic thinking, and it got us out of a real jam. I want all of you to start thinking strategically.  That's why I've brought in a consultant this weekend." He  gestures to his right and an attractive young woman stands up. "This is Paige.  She's going to get all of you thinking like Ben."  She smiles at Ben and he swallows.  

Ben wonders how much Paige knows and what's in store for her.  This is sloppy.  He manages a small smile.

----

The first session is a SWOT analysis of Empire Builders.  Paige talks through their Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities, and Threats.  It turns into somewhat of a post mortem of what led to the Post article and boycotts. 

Strengths: Reputation, resources. 

Weaknesses: Disloyalty, competing priorities

Opportunities: Services. Diversify disposal. 

Threats: Attention. Regulation.

This is a load of crap, and Ben is 100% sure Hux is just eating it up, scribbling notes and making stupid plans.  He rolls his eyes at the thought.  This is worse than a load of crap, he realizes.  Nothing good could possibly come from openly strategizing about how to expand this criminal enterprise.  

Ben could have walked right into a different crime family and taken his grandfather's seat, but that would have been the easy road, and he wouldn't have been met with true respect.  He knew he was capable of sitting at any table he wanted, and chose a different family.  A rival family.  He's climbing from the ground up by merit.  He whacks off a bad egg here and there, but he builds his reputation with brains more than brawn.  He's bringing the family into the 21st century.  

As part of his plan to make himself indispensable, Ben shared one of his many good ideas - the hardware store.  He shared just enough to climb one more rung on the ladder, and now they want all these goons bumbling around trying to bring something fresh to the table? He would hate for this family to implode before he has a chance to destroy it himself and build his own dynasty. 

In the SWOT session, they discuss some of the points together, but it's awkward because no one knows how much Paige knows about the organization or when she's supposed to get whacked.  They keep trying to be vague, but they're really conspicuous about it.  Ben tries to peer into Paige's inner world to find out how much she knows, but he realizes he can't see anything at all, much less read her thoughts.  He wants to test a hypothesis that the sexual attraction and tension with Rey is what's creating their connection.  

-----

They take a break and Ben takes off his blazer.  He leaves it on his seat and goes to the bathroom.  He looks in the mirror as he washes his huge hands, then he unbuttons two buttons and rolls up his sleeves.  He feels kind of slutty doing this, but in a hot way, if he's honest.  He runs his long fingers through his dark hair and swallows. When he sees his Adam's apple in the reflection he remembers his most powerful weapon.  He should've made an acceptance speech.  

Before they get back from break, Ben approaches Paige with a twinkle in his eye.  He talks about nothing.  He uses the lingo.  He gesticulates with his massive hands and shifts his weight flirtatiously as they talk.  He flashes his charming smile and compliments her on the dumb SWOT analysis.  He tries to keep talking.  He crosses his arms and watches her eyes drift to his forearms.  When it's time to re-start the session, he heads back to his seat and glances back. She's definitely checking out his ass.

"What do we mean by 'diversify disposal'," someone asks, and  Paige doesn't know how to answer it. So she doesn't know everything after all. 

One of the big wigs chimes in.  "You'll recall the Post article was primarily the result of a specific disposal that was discovered at a construction site. Which led them to look at other construction sites, pulling permits, and employment records, and so on and so forth.  All that fuss started with one sloppy disposal."   

The man still looks confused. The big wig makes a subtle gun gesture out of view of Paige.

"OH, disposal," the audience member realizes.  "Okay and diversify that how?" 

"Well primarily by considering properties that don't trace directly back to Empire Builders. And techniques that lessen the residue over time." 

"Like lye?" The man asks.  Paige swallows and doesn't know what to say.

Ben interrupts and saves her. "Have we thought about *reducing* disposal?" He asks the big wig.

The big wig laughs. "It's a core part of our business model." 

"Reducing unnecessary disposal? That's when things get sloppy, right?"

"Go on."

"Like say you hire a person for one job, like a conference, but they have a diverse business skill set.  That person could potentially be reassigned to, say, logistics and supply chain management?"

"Instead of. . ." The big wig is thinking.  "Right.  Good question Ben. Let's take that offline." 

-----

After the session ends for the day, Ben goes to the hotel bar.  He wants to check in on the store but needs a drink before he can even think about talking to Hux. Mainly he's curious if Rey came by.  He knows she wants to. Ben orders a whiskey on the rocks and thinks about Rey.  He feels like she has all the control.  He only gets to see her when she shows up to the store.  He thinks about the way she blushes under her freckles and her dimples and her perky tits and how bad she wants him.  He's horny. 

As Ben examines his drink in his large hand, a sultry voice startles him.  

"Ben's hardware, huh?" It's Paige.  She slides her small hand onto his shoulder and puts her other hand on the back of the stool next to him.  "Anyone sitting here?" He must have really worked his magic earlier.  

"No, please." He welcomes her to sit. His sleeves are still rolled up.  

She orders him another drink. "Another one for him. And one for me." 

Paige reaches for Ben's large hand and inspects the ruby signet ring on his pinky. She wants to try it on.  It's too big for even her thumb. One of the big wigs watches casually from the end of the bar. 

Paige asks too many questions, and Ben doesn't give her any answers.  He doesn't want to put her in more danger than she's already in. Also, part of him wonders if she's a trap. Maybe they've realized what he's known all along - that he's the future of this empire - they need to know he can be trusted and won't get distracted by competing loyalties.�� Even if it's not a trap, Paige isn't Rey, so that works against her.  

At the bar, Paige is all over him. It turns him on.  He's not that interested in her, but he's only human.  She finishes her drink and slips Ben a key to her room.  She scribbles her room number on a napkin with lipstick.  He wants to leave the key and the napkin on the bar, but he wouldn't want a worse guy to bust into her room in the middle of the night, so he takes them with him.  

Ben looks at his phone and has a missed call from Hux. He decides not to call him back, lest Hux think Ben answers to him.  Plus, Ben is exhausted from being "on" all day.  He's a solo creature and having to pretend to enjoy "the family" really takes it out of him.  Especially with all eyes on him as an honoree. He felt like he couldn't let his guard down for even a moment.  

-----

Ben retires to his hotel room alone he washes his face and hands and grabs the hotel lotion.  He props up two pillows and lies down on top of the bed without unmaking it.  He crosses his large feet and studies the pattern of his argyle socks.  He really prefers stripes these days.  He should overhaul his sock drawer.  He reads the label on the lotion, then moisturizes his enormous hands. He holds the napkin in his hand and runs his thumb over the room number, which is just a few rooms away.  

He recalls the way Paige looked at him and gets hard. He starts to think about whether he should just do it.  It's not like he and Rey are dating - they haven't even gone out once.  On the other hand, hooking up with Paige wouldn't do anything but physically get him off, and he still wouldn't be satisfied.  He runs his long fingers over the mark on his neck.  There is only one person who can satisfy him now.  His eyelids are heavy.  

Ben palms himself through his pants and  debates whether he should try to force connect with Rey.  If he does try to connect with her and she isn't already thinking about him, it could startle her or make her question everything.  He decides to take care of himself  instead.  

-----***------

Ben takes takes off his slacks and hangs them on the back of a chair and lies back down.  He leaves his shirt on and pulls his boxer briefs down. He closes his eyes.  He wraps his hand around his hard shaft and despite how big his cock is, it almost looks normal sized in his massive hand.  He's proportional.

He's almost too tired to do it, but his arousal wins over.  He spits in his hand. He thinks about Rey sitting in his lap and begins to slowly move the skin on his shaft, lazily and in short, firm strokes, just getting warmed up. He thinks about her furrowed brow and her soft little sighs and how her warmth felt against his cock.  

Before he can get far, his nose begins to tingle. Ben yanks up his boxer briefs and palms himself through them as he closes his eyes to let it happen.  

But before he can see anything, Ben hears a moan echo from the bathroom of his hotel room.  He lies there frozen, wondering if his ears deceive him.  Then, he hears splashing and squeaking from the bathtub.  He jolts up and grabs his Glock from the nightstand. He holds it in both hands, his arms straight, and slowly approaches the bathroom.  He turns the door knob with one hand  and pushes it open before resuming his stance. Steam billows out of the door and the mirror is fogged up.  

The door creeps open the rest of the way on its own, and Rey is in a robe.  Thank God she's facing away from him.  He lowers his gun and quietly rushes back to the bed, taking huge strides. He puts the Glock in the nightstand but doesn't close it all the way.

The sink faucet turns on, then off.  Rey emerges from the bathroom and looks around curiously.  She doesn't  look surprised to see him. He hasn't done it on purpose, but the collateral gaslighting might be driving her mad. Surely she hasn't figured out how this works.  

Ben is lying on the bed in his boxer briefs and button up shirt.  He's still hard.  Her eyes meet his. "Ben," she says.  It's the first time she's said his name to him and it's the sweetest sound.  Her eyes scan his body, resting on his underwear longer than anywhere else.  She looks away shyly then he sees her remind herself it's not real. She gains confidence and smiles demurely at him.  "Where have you been?" she asks. "Where are we now?" She crosses the room slowly.  

Ben ignores the questions.  "Well, you found me,"  he says. Her eyes rest between his legs again.  He's emboldened by her continued belief that this isn't real.  He adds, "And you found me in quite a state." He strokes his hard length from outside his boxer briefs.  "Is this what you were looking for?" He looks down to his lap then meets her eyes again as he strokes himself slowly.  He knows it's what she wants. He still wants her to say it. 

Her hair is damp.  Her skin is rosy.  He's disappointed to have missed her bath, but glad she's here now.  Rey approaches the nightstand, then stands facing the bed, not far from him.  Ben wonders how much she can see in this room.  Can she see the napkin? The Glock in the nightstand? If she can, she ignores them.  She lets her robe fall open "Maybe so," she says.  That's close enough to a yes for him. 

Ben sits up in the bed and pivots to face her. He sits on the edge of the bed and takes both her hands in his.  He spreads his knees.  She stands in between his legs, close to the bed.  They search each other's eyes. He can feel all her thoughts even stronger now.  She wants him bad.  He scoots closer to the edge of the bed, barely on it.  His large feet are firmly planted on the floor. 

She wants his body against hers.  He brings his hands around her waist to the small of her back.  Her figure is striking and her skin is so soft and smooth.  He gently nudges her closer. His knees are spread wide with plenty of room in between.  She comes as close as she can and his clothed hardness meets her bare skin. 

She starts unbuttoning his shirt.  She looks even prettier with no makeup.   He strokes her damp hair, then cradles her pretty little head in both of his massive hands and brings her face to his. Their eyes close.  Her lips part.  Their mouths meet softly, then the kiss grows hungrier.  She wants Ben inside her.  He slips his tongue into her mouth and she meets it eagerly.  She finishes unbuttoning him as they make out.  

Ben moves his hands down each side of her neck, then to her collar bone.  He slips the tips of his fingers under each side of the robe and slides his hands gently to her shoulders.  She shrugs off the robe. His hands slide from her shoulders down to her breasts and cup them gently.  He takes one nipple into his mouth and moves his other hand around her back, down her spine as he tongues then sucks her breast. 

Her skin is supple and her ass is round.  He grabs a cheek in his large hand and pulls her into him, then his hand slides down her ass crack between her legs.  His middle finger reaches her pussy and she’s so fucking wet.  He releases her breast from his mouth and grabs her ass with both hands.  He stands up and lifts her off the ground in one swift motion.  Her legs wrap around him.  He turns around and lays her down on the bed and their faces meet again. His nose brushes hers as their lips come together.  As he reads her mind, he’s struck by the intensity of her passion for his nose.  He’s so fucking hard.

Her fingers curl under his undershirt.  He takes it off and she marvels at his physique - his sharp shoulders, his broad chest.  Her hands trace his hard pecs,   then his abs, and his happy trail.  Then she slides her hand inside his boxer briefs and seizes his huge, swollen cock.  Her hand feels so good.  He thrusts into her and her other hand grabs at the hem of his briefs.  He takes them off.  She wants him inside her so bad, but he wants her to say it.

He reaches a large hand between them to finger her while she strokes him.  As his long digits slide against her slick folds, he says, “You can have whatever you want.”  He knows there’s only one thing on her mind and it’s his cock.

“I want all of you,” she says.  She releases his cock and it smacks against her hip bone, then he removes his hand from between them and grinds his hips into her.  His hard cock slides along her folds and her head falls back.  Her neck is so delicate.  It’s hard to resist putting his hands around it but he doesn’t want to scare her.  

“Take it,” Ben snaps hastily.  “Take what you want.”  She opens her eyes wide and grabs his cock again.  She swipes a bead of pre-cum around the head, strokes him for a second,  then rubs his cock against her folds again.  She wraps her legs loosely around his back.  

Ben kisses her deeply on the lips and grinds into her hard.  He can feel her wanting something beyond his body, beyond this room.  “I want it to be real,” Rey says.  

“This isn’t real?” He asks with a twinge of guilt. It’s an inopportune moment for this conversation, in his opinion. He just wants to be inside her.  

“I want you in real life,” Rey says.  

He slides off her and rolls onto his back, breathing heavily.  He cradles his massive, aching erection in one hand, loosely stroking it.  “I do too,” he says.  

“How do I know?” she asks.  She rolls over on her side to face him and hooks a leg over his closest leg.  Her face is quizzical, but he can still see the want in her eyes. She traces his pecs and her nipple grazes his bicep. 

“You just know.” He laughs. “I know you know.” Rey climbs up and straddles his big thighs, hovering her lower abdomen near his cock as she searches his face. He'd say almost anything to fuck her right now, but he settles on something reasonable.  “Give me your number or something,” he says. "then I'll make sure you know it. I promise."  

She relaxes.  "Okay."  She seems to view this experience as some way of accessing her intuition or some kind of mystical guidance on how to get with him in real life. She feels like she has her next step now.  She'll give him her number.  

“Can we still have fun meanwhile?” He asks and his hips lift up under her. 

She smiles.  The only thing on her mind is his cock now.  She grabs it again and scoots forward more, her warmth hovering over his aching balls.  He sits up and kisses her passionately as she grinds into him.  

He nuzzles his nose against hers.  “Whatever you want,” he says.  Her hips roll into him more intensely until she rolls off of him and back onto the bed, lying face up, pulling him onto her.  He brings his whole body down into hers and she grabs his cock and nestles the tip at her entrance.  Ben kisses her deeply as he plunges into her.  She moans as the thick head parts her seam.  

He gives her a few seconds, then thrusts again, further into her.  She digs her fingers into his back.  Her cunt is so hot and tight.  He feels like he could come at any second already.  “More,” she says. 

He pulls out an inch or two then plunges all the way in and she moans.  They sloppily kiss as he thrusts into her again and again.  They sweat and their hot bodies slide against each other.  He knows he’s hitting that special spot deep inside her.  He knows she’s close. And so is he, his pleasure is building rapidly.  

As Ben pounds into her, Rey begins to whine and her face contorts.  “Yes, yes, Ben."  He feels a pang of pleasure in his balls at the sound of his name in her mouth. She says it again and he kisses her desperately before his name is gone from her lips, like he's catching it in his own mouth.  She comes and her walls clench around him, and he starts to come, too.  He slowly thrusts into her as his cock erupts.  When his balls are empty, he pries his lips away from hers to look at her.  His hair falls into her face and she tucks it behind his ear.  

There’s a knock at the door. For a moment Ben hopes Rey can't hear it, but her face screws up.  Ben ignores it and kisses Rey's neck sweetly, trying to make her forget about it.

Another knock.  "Ben, I know you're in there," Paige says from the door.  Rey's eyes water.

Ben wants to explain.  ,"No, it's not - hold on.  One second," Ben whispers to Rey. He gets up and starts toward the door.  When he glances back, Rey is looking at the napkin and key on the nightstand.  Before Ben can answer the door, Paige says "Whatever, you've got my key."

Ben turns around to come back to bed, but Rey is gone.  He stews over it for a while, but there's nothing he can do.

-

The second day of the conference, Paige starts off cold toward Ben, but she tries to cozy up to him more during the breaks.  He tries to play nice but he's upset about the night before.  There's no way she could have known, but it still bothers him. He replays Rey's thoughts in his head and he's fairly sure her infatuation and attachment will win out over apprehension.

Paige's presentation talks about waste and efficiency.  One of the types of waste is underutilized resources.  Ben doesn't want to say it in front of Paige, but he feels like his capabilities are underutilized.  There are so many times they forgo mind tricks in favor of straight-up offing someone.  It would be cleaner to just to make them forget.  

Of course, a mind trick doesn't always work.  He can't imagine it would work for someone like Mitaka who worked full time for them.  What memories would the person be left with?  Plus, there are different rules for snitches. But as far as Ben knows, a mind trick would've worked for the disposal that ultimately led to the Post article. Ben keeps his mouth shut, though. He doesn't want to draw more attention to himself by bringing up his capabilities.  Plus, he knows better than anyone that sometimes your temper just gets the best of you.

After the session, during the social hour, Ben gets invited on a hunting trip.  He says he should really get back to the store.  A big wig slaps him on the back and asks if he can tour the store the day after tomorrow.  Ben agrees. 

Ben really can't wait to get back to the store.  

-

Thank you for reading!

[dollycrybaby]

Desperate Times Call For Different Measures

Prompt: "Himbo Nepo baby Ben Solo becomes cut off from the family money so he makes extra cash by coming an OnlyFans content maker who takes pictures of his cock next to stuff like footling subs and Lysol cans"

*Credit to @Ate_Lala_ on Twitter for the prompt

Warnings: vulgar language, descriptions of dick, swearing, brief description of masturbation (m)

Honestly it had started off as a joke. Actually, not even a joke. More like an act out of desperation. Once his dad had cut him off—literally, he cut his credit cards right in front of him, all 8 of them—Ben knew he needed money, and fast. He was accustomed to a certain lifestyle. How was he supposed to live without supporting girls through college by showering them in hundred dollar bills while they shook their plastic tits in front of his face, or missing out on fucking the new towel girl six ways from Sunday in the private tent at the country club?

God forbid he could no longer rail the models of the stupid fashion show his family was required to attend and try to see his cum leaking out and down the model’s legs as she walked down the runway, face flushed and thighs still shaking from being wrapped around Ben’s waist. The designers clothes honestly looked better with his cum staining it anyways.

No money meant no more car shopping, meant no more buying Rolexes, and no more Gucci. He had to deal with wearing last season’s line, and that was an embarrassment. The saving grace was that he had 20 days left on his membership of his last OnlyFans subscription. It was while he was cumming inside his custom made fleshlight to a girl dressed like some slutty anime character making herself cum with a tentacle shaped dildo that it hit him; He could make an OnlyFans.

Ben Solo had the body of marble carved by the gods and he knew it, but he also knew there was one part of him in specific that was godly as well. It was already difficult enough finding clothes that fit his Sasquatch body, but finding underwear that didn’t end up with a hole in the crotch from the fabric being stretched out by his megacock was in and of itself an impossible mission. Half of the time he just went commando.

It would have to be under a fake name. But what would he post? He didn’t need his face out there and deal with his dad cursing him out about disgracing the family and end up disowning him. And chicks weren’t fans of being filmed and uploaded. People only care about dicks either way, that was the main thing but jacking off seemed lacking in pizazz. He liked to show off. He liked to know that he could get girls on all fours at the snap of his fingers and he most definitely liked to show that he was better than any of the guys out there in the world. And what best way to do that than to emasculate them?

That whole thing about the chick with the big fuck-me-eyes from 'That 70’s Show' comparing her husband’s own schlong between a beer can or a carrot stick popped into his mind. And that was his first post. His limp dick in the middle of a carrot stick and a can of Modelo all lined up on the black countertop of his bathroom sink with the caption ‘Guess I beat Ashton Kutcher.’ Post to Twitter. Cha-Ching. The next day when he had checked his profile, girls had flooded his subscriber count faster than he racked up credit card bills.

‘I squirted just by looking at it 💦’

‘That thing could split me in half and I wouldn’t complain 🥵’

‘Give me that hard cock 🥵🤤🍆💦’

They thought he was hard? Well this had to be remedied, he didn’t need them thinking this was as big as he could get. He looked around his room for the closest thing he could use as a comparison which was his Fiji water bottle and rushed to the bathroom, not even hesitating to yank his sweatpants down and start tugging on himself. His mind rifled through the mental spank bank Rolodex until he landed on the memory of freshman year in college when he had a 3rd year sorority girl blowing him outside the building where he was supposed to be taking his midterm. Oh, the sinful noises her throat made….

He had to stop before he came. This was a noticeable difference in comparison to his first post; this time the veins were more prominent, his foreskin was pulled back to reveal his swollen red tip that was oozing precum tears on the sleek counter material, and the 3 birth freckles that were scattered along his shaft just like he had on the rest of his body.

‘Oh you guys thought I was hard before?’ Post. Mega Cha-Ching. If the comments weren’t flooding his mailbox before, they were a sea of messages now. From then on, his fanbase grew and so did the numbers in his newly opened bank account. Ben took great pride in his photos, always making sure the angle captured the size of it versus the competiton object he had next to it. The photos were always of high quality though he supposes he owes that to his phone’s camera. The latest model he got sent for Christmas it wasn’t even out on the market yet. Mouthwash bottle, Lysol air freshener cans, footlong subs, a fucking Pelligrino bottle, you name it. None of them even stood a remote chance against Ben Solo’s cock.

On the picture comparing his cock to his size 13 Gucci loafers, a person had commented on the post 'It’s fake, it’s some kind of silicone prop.' Oh Ben’s ego didn’t like that. You could say a lot of things about him, but saying his massive horse cock was a lie? Think again, bud.

That was the caption of his next post—a video, his first video—where he had recorded the end of an intense masturbation session. If his cock wasn’t already proven to be inhumanly large, his baseball mitt sized hand just added fuel to the fire the way it stroked his engorged organ like it was a life or death necessity. The video was 30 seconds; 12 seconds of his foreskin slapping and his stuttered breathy moans before the rest of the clip showed him shooting his load big enough to fill the flask he used to sneak in to private school dances, groans and growls being exhaled through his teeth as he painted the black countertop. “Still think it’s fake, fuckhead?” He pants.

~~~~~

Author's note: If you guys think I should turn this into a series, lemme know! This could count as a sort of prologue or a quick little introduction to the story. 💜

[6lostgirl6]

When you wanna start writing for Commander Mills, someone please don't stop me. Encourage me. This man has me in a chokehold.

[mothdruid]

✨ Happy Birthday!!! ✨

Would you please do this prompt for Mills or Flip? (Adam Driver characters)

⋆ “god, you’re freezing! come here, let me warm you up.”

Thank you! I hope you have a great birthday!

omg! thank you so much for requesting an adam driver character! i hope i did Mills justice (:

This was not supposed to happen. You were not supposed to crash on this god forsaken planet. It was supposed to go smoothly, a regular transport mission like normal. If it wasn't for that ridiculous asteroid field. The one that Mills was supposed to miss.

Did you blame him for this? No. Were you mad at him? Yes.

You knew that it was ridiculous to be mad at him, but you just couldn't help it. And he couldn't either. The situation had put the both of you on edge. Not only that, but the ship was barely stocked for a situation like this.

You were lucky to have found the equipment able to figure out if things were okay to eat or not, which also happened to purify water. Some grenades were in the stock, a long with one gun and a knife. The ship had been lacking in medical supplies, which had also added to your frustration.

Day after day the two of you had been barely surviving. Large creatures had chased you through out the area. The landscape was unpredictable, change what felt like every time you turned around. And the weather was even more unpredictable than the landscape, which the two of you were trying to survive right now.

It had been on and off raining all day, resulting in the temperature lowering. Just like the ship not having the proper supplies, neither of you had the proper clothing to accommodate the rain and cooler temperatures. You two couldn't afford to stop moving during the day though, so you made your way through the wooded areas and hoped time would pass before you got hypothermia. Eventually the two of you stumbled upon a cave as it started to turn dark.

It felt nice to be out of the rain, finally getting some much needed cover. As much as you wanted to strip off your wet clothes you couldn't. Everything outside was wet, meaning neither of you would be able to find kindling or sticks for a fire. Instead, Mills decided to illuminate the cave with the tracking device so at least the two of you could see.

The both of you were on separate sides of the cave, the noise of rain being the only thing filling the cave. You had your knees pulled to your chest, trying to maintain some form of warmth. You kept trying not to stare over at him, but you couldn't help it.

He was looking out of the cave, keeping an eye out in case anything braved the rain to find their way in. The way his wet hair was framing his face was stirring something inside of you. A weird part of you wished that you could run your fingers through his hair, pushing it back to show off more of his face.

"Hmm?" Mills voice was low and deep.

You stared at him for a moment, shocked he said anything. A shiver ran through you from the cool temp of the cave and your wet clothes.

"I didn't say anything," you replied.

"But you're staring," he looked back from the cave entrance at you.

His gaze was making your insides squirm. You pulled your legs a little closer to you, try to counteract the chills that were setting in now.

"Sorry," you whispered, then turned to look out of the cave.

Mills had taken notice to your frequent shivers. He knew that the wet clothes didn't help, but he was hoping that at least the cover would help. Apparently, he was proven wrong. He stood up and walked over to your side of the cave, sitting down next to you. He was shoulder to shoulder with you now, startling you a little.

"Why are you-"

"You’re freezing, come here, let me warm you up.” His words were soft and caring.

You stared at him for a moment, feeling a little unsure. When you didn't move he put an arm around you, pulling you towards him. He helped you shift to a comfortable position, your back to his chest with his arms wrapped around you. You were shocked with how warm he was, practically a heater.

"Better?" He asked cautiously.

"Yeah, better," you now shyly responded.

The chills and shivers slowly started to disappear. His heat was comforting, making you almost forget about the warm bed back on your home planet. But for the time being, this would be more than enough.

[pxgeturner]

so this is love, in the garden — reimagined!jacques le gris

a gentleman stumbles upon a secret area of the palace garden, and sings a duet with an invisible maiden.

an. so. um. yeah this is my first piece in a reaaallll long time. and yeah it’s jacques. but this is not like, canon jacques. this is my version of jacques, a ladies man, naturally, but not necessarily a gentlemen in all aspects of life. he is not in any way a villain. when i tell you i was SO EXICTED for the last duel, i was ecstatic to have adam play a knight-in-shining-armor types, i had no idea that the movie was going to be… that (😖) so my brain blocked that out and put jacques into a reign!au/crossover so.. um yeah.. hopefully some ppl like this.

wc. 456

you wandered about the secret secluded area of the garden you call “yours”. of course, it is not yours but the crown’s. but no one ever comes here and you do not even think that the king nor the queen is aware of this spot's existence, as it is at the very edge of the garden, almost wood. there is a pond and two flower beds as well as a hedge that hides it all. you suppose not a soul besides you knows of this alcove. people think the hedge marks the end of the garden. this might be the king’s garden, but this is your secret space.

you lay at the edge of the water, dipping your fingers, singing a simple melody. you start to sing of the thing your soul craves.

“so this is love,

so this is love

so this is what makes life, divine

i’m all aglow—

and now i know—”

“and now i know,” a deep, attractive voice startles you. you cover your mouth and just barely stop yourself from rolling over into the pond.

“the key to all heaven is mine,” you sing together. you hear heavy footfall near your oasis.

“my heart has wings

and i can fly—”

he’s about to round the hedge. you can’t let him see you- you don’t know why, you just can’t. so you pick yourself up, and tuck yourself into the shrub. you’ve hidden in it before, once or twice when you want a complete guarantee of privacy. the greenery leaves no hint of your presence, your skirts tucked neatly under you.

as you start the last verse together, he discovers your place. you peer at him through the branches and leaves. he’s tall, very tall. with long hair and a broad frame. you recognize him. the new lord that has joined court. lord le gris. jacques, you think his name is.

you didn’t think he was one for singing.

“i’ll touch every star in the sky.

so, this is the miracle

that i've been dreaming of.

so… this, is, love—”

part of you wanted him to find you. maybe he’d scoop you out of the bush, help you fix your gown, and pick any twigs or leaves out of your hair. you’ve heard of how charming he is to the ladies of the court. you haven’t met him yet, as you are busy tending to queen mary.

“mademoiselle, where did you go?”

you couldn’t bring yourself to let him see you.

“will i hear from you again?” you gave him a soft melody as an answer. he rounds the pond, looking at the flowers.

“you have the voice of an angel. hopefully you would soon allow me to see the face of one as well.”

You can’t wait to meet lord le gris.

[phasmattack]

Visitors (a 65 story) - Chapter 1: Prologue

Pairing: Captain Mills x Fem Reader

Fic Summary: 65 million years ago, Captain Mills (played by Adam Driver) crashes a passenger transport ship into Earth during the Cretaceous period. You are among three survivors of the crash. Together with Mills, you must make your way to the only shot of extraction through an unknown terrain riddled with deadly prehistoric creatures.

Warnings: Mention of suicide, loss of parents, trauma bonding

Fic Masterlist

Read on Ao3

___

The planet Somaris

Mills

“This time is different. The longest I’ve been away was 6 weeks, this is two years.”

“I know. But you’ll be back, and she’ll still be here.”

He feels the warm sand stick between his toes as he tries to savor the feeling of this moment. The salty sea air filling his lungs, the rays of sun kissing his tanned arms. The feeling of Alya held safe in those arms, the smell of her hair against his shoulder. The sight of their precious baby girl, who wasn’t such a baby anymore.

She’s so much like her mother it made his head spin just thinking about it. What did he do to deserve two of them? Beautiful, smart and confident women. Stubborn, sometimes to a fault, his daughter’s health grew steadily worse by the day and yet she’s splashing in the waves, bent on ignoring how her chest felt tight or her eyelids heavy.

The decision has been made for him, the final chance to bail long past now. But as he breathes in this perfect last moment with his family he can’t help but push down the urge to say screw it, to tell the buyers they can shove their quotas where the sun doesn’t shine and park himself right on this beach until the end of his days. This urge is silenced altogether as Nevine turns from the shore and gives him that heart stopping smile she got from her mother.

Two years will slip by like nothing if it means he can afford to keep that smile on her face longer. This one last job will finally get her treatment, give her a chance at the life she deserves. Let her mother be able to sleep through the night and end the whispered midnight arguments over family priorities and rising medical expenses.

He smiles back.

  “Just two years.”

Chapter 2

[ohsolonelyghosts]

New Years Kiss

Characters: Maurizio Gucci x Reader

Word Count: 887

Note: Happy New Year everyone! I wanted to write this up real quick, it's not much, but I was really feeling Maurizio on this tonight. I typed it up really quickly, just wanted to get something out TONIGHT before it turned midnight on the west coast (where I'm at!)

Phrases to know: *Guarda quanto sei bella - Look how gorgeous you are

*Amore mio - my love

Contents/Warnings: Fluff, kissing, pretty SFW, some sexual language

You and Maurizio had just landed in New York City. He claimed he was here strictly on business, but it was a holiday and you knew it. 

While he did have business meetings to attend, you stayed in the luxurious hotel room he had booked for the two of you. However, he promised you two would explore the city after the meeting today. After all, it was New Year's Eve. 

You were applying your lipstick when you heard the door open and click shut. 

“Love?” Maurizio quietly called, peeking around the corner to see you in the bathroom. He stood behind you in the bathroom, completely taking in your appearance while you finished up your makeup. 

“Guarda quanto sei bella.” 

You turned around, eyebrows raised at your husband. He was never light about compliments, showering you with them constantly. You smiled up at him, his hands finding your waist. Maurizio pulled you in, pecking at your lips a few times. 

You pulled back slightly, humming. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, fluttering your eyelashes. 

“Any time, Bellissimo.” 

You both exited the bathroom, pulling on the boots you intended to wear out today. Pulling on your stunning white coat to pull your outfit together, Maurizio barely changed his clothes and was ready.

“Men, absolutely no effort, and they can still look good,” you hummed over at him, listening to the chuckle in response. 

“I know, doll, just call me flawless.” 

You rolled your eyes, smiling as he stood in front of you once more. 

“Let’s get going before we can’t move at all out there,” he suggested, holding his hand out, dragging you out of the hotel room. 

Maurizio let you pick any stores to go into, any sights to see, and generally whatever you wanted to do for the rest of the day. 

By the time the sun was setting, you were both walking back into the hotel, not avoiding any crowds. Setting everything you had bought from the day, which wasn’t much, onto the chair in the room, Maurizio looked at you with a slight smirk. 

You looked up from sorting through the new belongings, tilting your head at him. He got that look in his eyes typically when he was in the mood. You shook your head, setting your things down. 

You aimed a finger at him, shaking your head once more.

“Not right now, we were just out all day.” 

Maurizio looked puzzled, giving you a smile. 

“I meant champagne, amore mio. Let’s ring in the new year with some champagne and we can people-watch.” 

You giggled as he picked up the hotel phone to dial for room service. Within no time the bottle showed up in the room, and your husband tipped room service generously. 

You both stood on the balcony, both enthralled with the crowd of people down below. You had no idea how much time had passed, but the crowd grew louder with every passing moment. In a way, it was really fun to see everyone crowd around, pushing and shoving in an attempt to try to get out, or get farther in. 

“People really come here to do this every year?” You questioned, turning your head to him. 

The dark haired male turned his head back to you, looking you in the eyes. 

“It’s a party, why wouldn’t you?” 

You shrugged, a smile creeping onto your face. 

“I don’t think standing in that crowd would be my thing.” 

“Love, we are pretty much here for the party as well,” Maurizio mentioned, shrugging, a hand running through his hair. He straightened out from leaning over the balcony, checking his watch. 

“11:30. So close.” 

Maurizio kissed your forehead, then your nose, then your lips. You both shared a sweet moment, though anyone who looked up could probably see you two. 

He leaned down close to your ear, gently placing a kiss on your earlobe. 

“I am going to give you such a treat after midnight.” 

His words made you shiver in anticipation, eliciting a soft noise from you. When your husband stood up straight one more time, you half closed your eyes in a seductive glance, lips slightly parted up at him. 

“You’ll get one too.” 

Maurizio shuddered, chuckling down at you, giving you one more kiss before turning back and leaning over the balcony again. You dragged your fingernails along his back, leaning gently against him. 

As the time drew closer to midnight, Maurizio pulled out the champagne from inside the hotel room. He was going to pop it over the balcony, and not the safe way, either. 

Soon enough, the crowd began the ten-second countdown. You and your husband looked at each other, bright smiles on your faces. 

When it hit one, Maurizio used the hand that wasn’t holding the alcohol to pull you in, planting a long, loving kiss on your lips. You both grinned into the kiss, pulling away so he could pop the bottle. 

You were both sure that it hit someone in the sea of people down below, worrying you for a second before laughing along with your husband. 

He poured the champagne into the glasses, handing you yours first. You clinked your glasses together, Maurizio planting one more kiss on your lips before you took sips of the alcohol. 

“Happy New Year, Maurizio.”

“Happy New Year, Bellissimo.”

[mrs-gucci]

For the Hunt

{ werewolf!flip zimmerman x female reader }

anon

Werewolf Flip wanting to knock you up (or role play at it) and scenting when you’re ripe for him and chasing you down and pounding you

thank you for submitting this!!

warnings. SMUT (18+), werewolf in rut, primal kink (hunter/prey), breeding kink w/no intention of actually getting pregnant, dirty talk, outdoor sex, creampie, minimal aftercare.

word count: 995

🐺 written for werewolf wednesday 🐺

Your breathing is soft, exhilarated, creating little puffs of steam in the cold night air. A shiver runs down your spine, out of excitement or nerves, you’re not really sure.

You two have an agreement that on rut nights, he has full consent to use you however he wants or needs to. He tells you what he needs from you on a particular night and you give it to him willingly, whether it's being tied up on the bed down in the basement or up at his remote mountain cabin.

His absolute favorite thing, however, is when he gets to hunt you. Which is why you’re currently standing behind a big pine tree, trying to steady your breathing.

By now you’ve nearly perfected the art of giving Flip a good chase, having been with him for almost six years. And tonight is an extra special full moon because you’re ovulating, which gives Flip the ultimate prize in his werewolf brain: the chance to breed you.

He looks up at the full moon with his golden eyes, knowing it’s time to hunt, he lifts his snout eagerly.

Almost instantly, he picks up traces of your scent and his paws thud against the earth as he runs into the thick Colorado wilderness. He can already feel that this is one of his more mild ruts, but he's still just as desperate and tuned-in regardless.

Flip slows down and sniffs the air again, knowing that he's close. You can feel him nearby, sticks snapping and leaves crunching under his large paws.

You sneak a look around the tree and he doesn't seem to notice, so you quickly attempt to sneak to another tree. But of course, his head whips over and you freeze, then take off running.

He feels the familiar tingle of his primal hunting instinct creeping up through his body, but he still gives you a head start before taking off in your direction, eyes beginning to turn black with desire.

Your breathing is heavy as you sprint away from Flip, trying to give him a good chase. He growls softly out of sheer thrill and quickly dips to the side to run around you, then stands proudly. You come to a screeching halt.

Strands of drool hang from his jowls as he takes a step forward, then another, piercing you with his lustful stare. You let out a shaky breath and step back, not actually afraid but acting so anyway.

"Please don't hurt me," you say softly, eyes flickering down to his hard member for just a moment.

He grunts when he notices your quick downward look and stands a bit taller, eager to present himself to you.

"I have something else in mind," he says in his deep, gruff voice. "If you do your job correctly, then it should be pleasurable for both of us."

You bite your lip as he steps forward again, sniffing the air.

"You smell especially good tonight, little girl. I could smell your ripe, fertile pussy from back at the house. You're so ready to be bred."

"I don't--"

"Run," he says, interrupting you. "If I catch you, you're mine."

Immediately, you take off again and he gives you a moment before taking three long strides, catching you and causing you to fall over. He quickly catches you with a clawed paw, though.

He brings his mouth down to your ear as he lowers you to the ground.

"I got you," he says. "And now, I get to pound you until you're swollen with my seed."

You whimper softly as he holds your wrists down and takes a sharpened claw to your pants, tearing the crotch open to make room for his thick, pulsing cock. He lets out a shaky breath as he pushes your legs apart and lines himself up with your wet entrance.

Flip groans when he finally gets the wet, hot relief he's been desiring all night within your walls. He gives you a moment to adjust before beginning to move, his hips delivering sharp thrusts.

You moan unashamedly as Flip growls and fucks you from behind. Hearing his noises of pleasure only arouses you more and you clench, earning a surprised, breathy grunt from your husband.

“F-Flip…”

His noises get louder and he leans down again, beginning to lick at your neck and jaw, occasionally scraping his teeth lightly against your skin as an alternative.

“I need you,” he grunts, hips speeding up slightly. “I need you to h-hold all my cum inside, keep it a-all…give me pups…”

You gasp softly, eyebrows knitting in pleasure.

“I will,” you breathe. “I-I’ll keep it all f-for you, my love.”

His cock throbs and he knows he can't hold on much longer. He always feels guilty that more often than not, you don't get to cum like this. But he definitely makes sure to return the favor the first opportunity he gets.

"Sweetheart, I'm gonna--" He cuts off as the intense orgasmic sensations suddenly rush through him. His eyes flutter shut and he rocks his hips desperately, spilling every drop he has deep inside of you. "O-Ohhhh god..."

You sigh softly as he lets go of your wrists and sits up a bit, still staying buried deep in your pussy. He helps you get up on your hands and knees, then licks your neck again.

"Are you alright? I wasn't too harsh?"

"I'm fine, honey," you reassure, looking back at him with a small smile. "I promise I'm okay. I would've used the safe word if I wasn't."

Flip nods and pulls out slowly, letting out a shaky huff as he does so. When you stand up, he gently picks you up and you rest in his large arms. You smile up at him.

"I love you, Flip."

His eyes soften and wishes he could return your smile. "I love you too."

You sigh softly and look up at the night sky as Flip carries you back to the house.

****

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[strangunddurm]

Hello! Remember me? lol

I'm 5000 words deep into my next fic and I think I'm aaaaalmost at the finish line.

Here's a sneak peak:

It was common knowledge that Flip Zimmerman was utterly and completely infatuated with you. You were it for him. The one he would marry, build a house for, have kids with. You would be his end, but you were not his beginning. It was also common knowledge that Flip Zimmerman was on an apparent path to sleep with everyone he could that wasn’t you. Fuck, finger, and fondle like he wasn’t an officer of the law and he wasn’t in a very public bar at that very moment. You could see his hand run along her leg, caressing it with the pads of his fingers before it disappeared beneath the fabric of her skirt.

[cndcrd]

☄️ Mills

[glassbxttless]

[CLOSE] from the smut prompts okay? But stay with me for this one.

Paterson x Pregnant!Reader

Also maybe some lactation kink in there somewhere

Chapters

Paterson x f!Reader

summary: You delight Paterson with some very shocking news not too long after the birth of your first child.

word count: 2k+

warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, smut, postpartum, new pregnancy, pregnant reader, female reader, pinv, vaginal sex, a bit of fingering, lactation kink

You feel sick to your stomach as you hold Olive close to your chest, patting her back as she scrunches close. Her skin is clean, new, fresh, only eight weeks old. Your eyes are fixated on that little test strip on the counter. You press a kiss to the top of Olive’s head full of dark hair as you sigh. Two lines making tears prick the corner of your eyes. You knew it shouldn’t have happened then, that the two of you were just too focused on how your bodies felt— not your minds. Ten minutes of the sleepiest sex you’ve ever had, set you onto a path of two babies within the year.

You remember Paterson asking if you were okay afterwards, how he ran a bath and promised he’d take care of Olive. He brushed your hair and kissed your head and apologized for letting it get as far as it did. But you were just as much to blame, you apologized too and it hasn’t happened again. But here you are now. You take a deep breath and walk out of the bathroom, placing Olive into her swing just as Paterson walks through the door. Your heart stops as your eyes meet.

He starts to unzip his jacket and hang it on the hook. “There are my girls.” He has a smile on his face, leaning down to give you the softest kiss and a squeeze on your arm. He presses a kiss to the top of Olive’s head before ducking into your shared bedroom to change from his work clothes into something comfortable to wear around the house. Unbuttoning his shirt, he turns the corner into the bathroom. Letting the fabric roll off of his shoulders and then he’s tossing into the hamper, catching sight of the test on the counter. His heart stops as he steps closer, lifting the strip close enough to see the two pink lines clearly. He sucks in a breath, trying to calm those racing thoughts: Olive, your newborn is only eight weeks old. He places the strip back down on the counter, just like he found it. He doesn’t want you to know he’s seen it. You’ll come to him when you’re ready.

When he steps back out of the bedroom, sweatpants hanging low on his waist— white t-shirt covering his chest— you’re sitting on the couch, Olive tucked close to your chest as she nurses. Paterson’s quick to make sure your water cup is full and you’ve got a snack next to you before he’s heating up two portions of lasagna from your stash of premade dinners. He watches you, noting how unusually quiet you’ve been since he’s come in. You’ve never gone a day without asking him how work was.

But you’re lost in your own thoughts, something that you’ve grown used to since Olive’s birth. “Pat?” your voice is quiet, shaky, a quiet trill that seeps in like you’re about to cry. Paterson is quick to notice, walking over to sit down with you.

“Hey… what’s wrong?” He asks softly, reaching over to take Olive when you’re handing her over. He burps her and places her in her swing before he’s gathering you up into his arms.

“Think I’m pregnant.” You whisper and hide your face against his chest. He just rubs your back, holding you comfortingly as you continue to talk. “Olive is still so small and I don’t know what to do… I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” he says softly, sitting you up to wipe a stray tear off your cheek. He smiles softly as he meets your eyes— hand cradling your cheek. “If anything I should be apologizing. I did it.” he says softly, searching your face for that little crack of a smile you indulge him with. He kisses your forehead, pulling you back against his chest. Your knees are placed on each side of his hips. “I love you and you’re a fantastic mother. You’ve done amazing with Olive. If this is something you want, you’re going to do amazing with them too,” he says softly.

“I… I do want this.” You nod. You think of Olive and how much you love her. How much Paterson loves her. How good he is with her. How you both have begun to find yourselves within parenthood. “I want everything with you.” you whisper, thumbs brushing along his jaw as you pull him into a kiss. His eyes begin to flutter closed, one hand tightening on your hip and the other planting itself on the back of your neck to pull you closer. Your mouths part, heads tipping into each other. Paterson’s tongue chasing yours as you feel like every vein in your body is on fire. Your hips begin digging into his. The thin fabric of the sweatpants he was wearing is doing nothing to mask the erection growing underneath.

He’s not shy about it, dragging your hips against him as he scoots to the edge of the sofa. Hand moving from your neck to wrap around your waist as he stands. “Gotta take my girl to bed, huh?” He whispers, lips pressing a kiss underneath your ear as he begins to carry you to the hall— a quiet squeal of Olive’s name leaving your lips halts him in his tracks. “Go sit in bed for me, yeah? I’ll get her.” He kisses the top of your head, as your feet hit the ground. He steadies you with a hand on your waist, waiting for you to turn and disappear into your bedroom.

You make quick work of stripping down to just your t-shirt. The one that’s hanging on your shoulders by just a thread. It’s old and worn, stained by your breastmilk and dried tears from your eight week old baby. You flip on the lamp, dim light filling your room. You give Tessa, the Afghan hound/Rough collie mix you and Pat had adopted at the beginning of your relationship— who takes up residency at the end of your bed each night, a few little gentle pats on her back ushering her away, promising she can have her spot back later. She stands and stretches, wagging her tail before hopping off the edge of the bed and trotting out to the living room. No doubt to drink some water and lounge on the couch. And just as she’s leaving, Paterson is appearing in the doorframe. “Look at you.” Pat mumbles, kicking the door closed as he steps into the room. He admires the expanse of your thighs, the way your hips have gotten wider since the beginning of your pregnancy. He’s stepping closer, settling one knee on the bed as his eyes dip downward. They rake up over the fabric covering your chest, a hand settling on your hip to pull you closer to him as he settles into place in the middle of the bed. His lips close the gap between the two of you, legs placed out in front of him after he sits against the mattress. His heart is beating so fast in his chest, but the second your hands settle on his shoulders— legs wrapped around his waist— he starts to settle down. He gets comfortable, lets himself relax into the kiss you share. “Sweet girl.” he whispers, hands toying with the hem of your t-shirt. “I love you. Nothing will ever change that, okay?” he says softly, fabric raising and exposing more and more of the skin of your back before he’s tugging the shirt off completely.

You shiver, tugging Paterson’s own t-shirt off of his body. Smiling when it ruffles his hair up. His hands find your chest, cupping your tits gently and he gently brushes his thumbs over your nipples. Your fingers are threading through his hair as he dips his head down, taking your nipple into his mouth. His other hand cups and kneads at your tit, his eyes fluttering closed. He’s so lost in you, so enamored. Your hips are rutting closer to him. Your bare cunt brushing against the growing hard on in his sweatpants. Paterson lets a bit of milk drip down from his chin as he pulls away, rolling down his neck and chest. Your fingers bunch up his hair a bit, bringing him into a kiss. You taste the lingering flavor of sweet sweet almond on his lips, his breathing rapidly increasing as you pull your legs back to raise to your knees just to get his sweatpants off.

And he’s quick to discard them, throwing them towards the floor as your legs settle back down around his waist. His cock standing red and angry between your bodies, he’s pulling you close by your waist. Lifting you just a bit against his chest to slip his free hand under you, teasing at your cunt. His fingers are sliding through your folds, brushing ever so gently against your clit. “So lucky you’re my wife.” he mumbles into the skin of your shoulder, two fingers plunging deep into you for just a second before he’s retracting them and replacing them with his cock. You take him greedily. He can feel your cunt fluttering around him and fuck if it isn’t the sweetest thing he’s ever felt. Every time he gets you in bed like this, he revels in the feeling. Truly loving and present in every single moment. His eyes are closed now, head tilting back just that little bit. He swallows hard. Adam's apple bobbing as he does. And your hips rock with his, clinging to each other's bodies as your arms wrap around his shoulders.

You can’t keep your sounds at bay. The moans, the squeals, the hums. Paterson’s just too big. Settled fully inside of you, he stretches you wide, just the right amount of burning pressure to set your nerves on fire. The ache settled deep in your belly starts to fade away into a building sense of pleasure as your hips begin to move in time with one another. The way he keeps his arm tightly locked around your waist as your ankles stay wrapped around his waist, starts to make you feel hot all over. Paterson’s face buries into the soft space between your neck and shoulder, lips pressed against the skin there— leaving a dark bruise in their wake. His tongue darts out to soothe the skin he’s damaged, his cock settled deeper and deeper inside of you, hitting that spongy spot that starts to make your eyes roll back. “Pat…” your breath comes out in little pants, quiet into Pat’s ear. “I’m gonna cum.”

He’s just about there, feels that coil in his belly begin to wind tighter and tighter. He knows he’ll only last a few more minutes— and not even that long if you keep talking to him like that. When your hands leave his shoulders to press against his chest, trying to find anywhere you can grip. You settle on his biceps as your body begins to shake, thighs convulsing as your head leans against his shoulder. Flashes of white light blind your vision as a pleasurable warmth floods through your veins. And Paterson is right behind you, lifting your hips just a bit to thrust his into you as deeply as he can, painting the inside of your pussy with his spend. His heart is racing just as fast as yours. Chests heaving opposite one another. The sound of your breathing matching the other’s breathing patterns. You look him over, that fucked-dumb smile playing at his lips. You’re so in love with him. You take a deep breath, sucking in enough air to try and regain your strength. You’re pushing him flat against his back on the mattress, laying on his chest with a laugh. Your hand nestled right up against his tummy.

And then he’s laughing, kissing the top of your head. His cock still nestled deep into you. “We’re gonna be alright, mama. Another one’s nothing we can’t handle.”

tags ;;

[toxicanonymity]

Aisle 39. Ben's Hardware

5250 words / Ben Solo x Rey

Warnings: I8+ mdni. Sexual tension, dubcon (via uninformed use of force connection but she wants it), dry humping. I 🖤 Dry Humping. Hardware Store AU but more than meets the eye.

A/N: posting my first fic in any fandom since I never posted it on Tumblr aside from the AO3 link and Tumblr is home now 🖤. I'm resisting the urge to improve it 😅 I'm not even gonna reread before posting. It was originally reader insert but @dark-scape translated to reylo. Lmk if you want the reader insert version instead and that can be arranged.

Rey visually undresses him.  He inhales through his strong nose, meets her gaze, and cocks an eyebrow: “Now that’s an idea."   He sinks all the way back into the cushions, his huge palms on his thighs, as if to take in the moment with a subtle, satisfied smile.  He then abruptly sits back up and starts unbuttoning his shirt.  As if on command.

Rey drives through the streets of Jakku. It's a chilly day, but bright for mid December. The sun is in her eyes, but the drive isn't long enough to commit to finding her sunglasses. As she turns into a parking lot, she sees the cafe next door is open and realizes it will be the perfect day to grab her favorite nutmeg butternut squash soup with their signature green tea bread if she can make it out of the hardware store before the lunch rush really picks up. This is a rare opportunity because the cafe's hours are aligned to typical office job hours when she’s normally across town.

Rumor has it the hardware store is locally-owned now, and she wonders how much it’s changed. She's taken a vacation day to finish some holiday shopping and errands, and thought of an easy home improvement project last night to spruce up Finn and Poe’s house while she housesits and takes care of their cat Bebe. She wants to fix the dimmer for the light above their kitchen table. The knob has been missing for awhile now, and even when you twist the naked peg, the lights don't dim, so she assumes the bulbs aren’t the right kind. She figures she can fix this with a new plastic knob, a 4-pack of dimmable LED lights, and five minutes of labor. She can finish it off with a little red bow on the new dial. This will be a nice surprise and will also give her an excuse to procrastinate her other errands.

Turns out, not much has changed. She clip-clops through the sliding doors in her warmest boots and still sees orange aprons with names hand-written in sharpie. She immediately locates the light bulbs and spends a few minutes longer than necessary deciding which pack to get. She looks at her phone and sees she has about ten minutes until the lunch rush, so it's time to find the other item she needs, the knob.

She looks up and sees a worker. He's wearing a dark gray jacket over his apron, and what looks like a lighter gray hoodie under it. It isn’t that cold in here, she thinks . She almost leaves him alone, but something on his apron catches her eye. She can't see the name, but barely sees the edge of an expertly doodled death star. Bold choice.  

He's got a nice head of dark hair, chin length, tapered around his face, but out of the way enough to see his eyes are brown. He runs his hand through his hair over the top of his crown as though slicking it back, then some of the strands fall back down. His face is a mix of heart and square shaped with a masculine jaw and strong nose. He has the stubble of a mustache and soul patch but no beard.

He has beauty marks, so many. How many? Are they just on his face or all over? He has an enviously clear complexion and looks like he tans easily. He's kind of tall, but not looming, maybe because his head is bowed slightly as he lifts a crate of lightbulb boxes and begins to unpack it. He seems athletic, hard to tell with what he's wearing. He has a youthful vibe but isn't exactly boyish.

He carries himself like he knows more or less what he's doing, but doesn't take the job too seriously. Rey imagines he wouldn't be the best candidate to tell her how to do a project, but he must know the aisles at least. She doesn't like to be a bother, but hopes it's an easy enough question, and he's standing right there. He can tell she’s about to ask him something and looks up. The whites of his eyes are clear and sparkly. Rey wonders if hers would be like that if she blinked more, which leads to her unintentionally fluttering her lashes.

She finally says, close to a whisper, “Can I ask you something?” I asked… if I can ask him something. She groans inwardly.

She isn’t prepared for the gentle baritone voice he responds with, "Yeah. Sure."

"Uh, where can I find the light switches and dimmers?"

"AISLE 39. I think. Here, I'll show you." He sounds about twice as old as he looks. Those few words he speaks are enough to flip a switch in Rey.  Her heart is melting at the same time her mind is racing. She can't tell for sure because he’s so bundled up, but she imagines he has strong arms and is in great shape based on the vascularity of his hands as he holds his barcode reader. He's working in the middle of the school day so he's got to be at least 18, not that he looks any younger, but Rey tends to think in worst case scenarios. Realistically, she would peg him for mid-twenties, but his voice sounds at least two decades older.

He walks her to aisle 39 and stops. She thanks him for his help, and as she turns to walk in the direction he pointed, she realizes she’s slightly blushing and she’s been silent. She doesn't want her shyness to come off as cold, so she makes eye contact and lets a little smile sprout from the left corner of her mouth across her lips, small but beaming. She hopes it doesn't come off as a smirk or make him self conscious. She can't tell whether he's the self conscious type.

She figures she can find the item herself from here, and doesn't think to ask him about the specific product. She wanders nearly all the way down the aisle, but after several minutes of searching (albeit distractedly), Rey is relieved to see him come back with another customer. He's helping a man find a specific thing, not a whole aisle. She’s jealous, even though it was her own fault not to ask. She hopes he sticks around and asks her if she found everything okay, but when he's done with the other customer it seems like he's about to leave.

She quickly approaches him. “Can I- can I ask for your help again?” Asking to ask again. Do I always sound this ridiculous? She tells him about the dimmer she’s looking for, which is apparently called a rotary switch.

To her surprise and delight, he talks far more than he needs to about rotary switches. His dark velvet voice is lulling Rey half into a fantasy while she struggles to continue listening to his words. He repeats almost every word she says back to him coolly and casually. And these aren't complicated concepts. She isn’t sure if he's practicing an active listening technique from sales training or is simply aware of his effect on women. Or his effect on her. She stands inches from him and looks into his eyes. She wonders to what extent her white cheeks have bloomed into roses under her freckles and given her away.

"You need a dimmer?" He looks her in the eyes, but she’s transfixed on every flex of his jaw and twitch of his lip as he talks.

"Yes, but just the knob, not the whole thing,” she says.

He nods thoughtfully then confirms, "So you just need the plastic part?"

“Right, there’s still a stick you can use to turn it, but it’s naked,” Rey confirms. She pulls her phone out of her back pocket to show him what kind of set-up the panel has and what part she needs.

"So on the panel there's an up-down switch, and a rotary dimmer."

“Yeah." She shows him the knob on the store's app and says, "I think the dimmer part is in stock.”

He replies "Oh, it says aisle 2?" He looks in that direction like he’s trying to remember what’s in aisle 2. He must be new.

"No, we’re in the right aisle. It's wrong on the preview page, but if you click into it you can see," she explains.

"Oh, ok. This is what you need though?" He locks eyes with Rey.

Just like that, she’s imagining him taking off his apron and hoodie at the end of the day, revealing meaty biceps that want to burst out of a black, soft washed t-shirt. Running his large hand through his hair. Flexing those beautiful arms as he peels off the shirt. A smooth torso with hard pecs, scant chest hair. At the thought of this, the left half of her bottom lip starts to creep under her left front teeth, and he cracks a smile for the first time, from the right side of his mouth, almost like a mirror image to Rey’s. His teeth are pretty but unassuming. They're close to white and not overly straight.

Her cheeks grow warmer and she looks away, responding to his question with a slight nod, which she hopes doesn’t read as hesitant, before resuming eye contact. “Yeah,” she quietly confirms.

"But you don't need the regular switch, right?" He speaks with a relaxed beat, not rushing the conversation to its end.

"Uh-huh."

He's speaking low and soft and looks back and forth between Rey’s eyes, not at the screen they’re both supposedly studying. "You just need the dimmer."

"Yeah." She feels like this is being drawn out to the point of overkill, but she’s not complaining.

"And you only need the plastic part." Every time he speaks is like music.

"Yeah," she confirms, barely audible, with a smile.

He continues to search her eyes and she repeats, "Yeah."

For a brief moment, he seems to gaze at Rey as lustily as she knows she is looking at him before he gathers his thoughts. She feels self conscious and suspects by the amount that he’s talking he must know the spellbinding effect his voice has on her. But if that's the case, she supposes there’s no harm that could come from him knowing it.

"Okay, let’s go over here," he says as he leads her back to where she started at the front of the aisle. "I think I see it.” He crouches down to get something from the bottom shelf.

"That’s it!" Rey says with a grin.

She feels bad for not crouching down with him. She’s always self conscious of making people do too much work, but then she also doesn’t want to make it awkward by taking over. So it's not that she expects him to serve her, she’s just frozen. He starts to pull the small product off the metal rods. It's the exact one she’d shown him on her phone, but she notices a better color next to it. Rey squats down and as she looks at the package to the right of the one he's holding, he almost looks disappointed that he didn't pick the exact unit she needed.

She says, "This one is even better, it'll match the old yellowed white." As she slides the package toward her, her right thumb almost imperceptibly brushes his left hand which is still holding the other package. She hasn’t even thought about his package yet, but the lightest brush of his skin is enough to short Rey’s circuits. She gets nervous and stands up, thanks him twice with a genuine smile and that's all she can do.

"No problem," he says, and that's all. As Rey watches him walk away, she feels an odd desperation to hear his voice again. She thinks about making up another question and recording him with an app. Is that creepy? It’s a little creepy, but not full-blown creepy, right? It isn't an option to never hear his voice again. She briefly glances around and he's nowhere in sight. She gets a hold of herself and makes her way to the self checkout line and pays.

Scanning the parking lot as she leaves, Rey wonders which car is his. When she gets to her car, she realizes she doesn’t have her keys. She sheepishly walks back inside and grabs her keys and receipt from the self-checkout terminal she just used. She looks at the receipt - “Ben’s Hardware”. So it did change ownership. She feels someone watching her from the aisle straight ahead, but tries to play it cool. She smiles and shakes her head in disbelief as she turns around and leaves, heart pounding.

Rey forgets all about the soup she was going to get and drives on autopilot to the house to install the dimmer and bulbs. What was that back there? When did I become so shy? It’s been a long time since she’s felt a visceral longing for someone, too. She can feel the animal inside of her awakening from a years-long slumber. She isn’t worried about it, she welcomes it. It’s tame. She has the maturity and experience to stay in control.

She pulls into the broken driveway and parks under the carport. Bebe runs to greet her and Rey bends down to pet her when she opens the car door. This should be an easy but impactful little project. She enters the kitchen, and takes the rotary dial out, dismissing a ridiculous passing thought that she should have bought the white one, too, because he touched it.  She tears the packaging open and holds the off-white plastic rotary dial in her hand, smiling as she remembers all the ways he described it.  

She raises the cream plastic dial to the light switch panel and glances at its underside, confirming it’s compatible.  The unsheathed rotary peg juts out from the panel in anticipation. She holds the dial by its outer edge, aligning its hole with the peg, and gently eases the peg inside.  The dial slides all the way on and snaps into place. It sticks out a little far from the wall, but it works.  Then she unscrews the light bulbs in the cheap chandelier one by one and replaces them with the dimmable ones she bought. 

Finally, the moment of truth - she presses the rotary dial, which turns on the lights, but when she rotates the dimmer, it dims nothing. The dimmer wiring itself might not be LED compatible. Of course. It looks like she’ll have to go back to the store, but not today. She does her shopping and begrudgingly runs errands, and finishes off her day with a warm cup of rooibos.

When she gets in bed, her mind drifts back to Him. She’s dying to hear his voice again. He was so calm, aloof, but somehow radiating power. She interprets it as sexual energy, but she wonders if she’s just seeing what she wants to see. To keep his voice in her mind, she imagines him narrating, “So. This is your bed… we’re going to use an extra blanket tonight, because it’s cold.” She feels ridiculous. But when she drifts off to sleep, there he is.

*** 

Rey is in a living room, but not hers.  It’s a subtle mid-century style with huge windows and modern touches.  It’s dimly lit with a fire roaring behind a glass.  He’s slouched on a stool at a wet bar, drinking something on the rocks.  He’s wearing black slacks, a form-fitting charcoal button-up shirt, untucked, with the cuffs unbuttoned.  He has one foot on a rung of the stool and another with its heel on the ground as he looks at his glass. 

He looks at Rey and puts down the glass.  “Drink?” he asks, standing up to go around the other side of the bar.  Rey watches him.  “Whisky? Wine? Water?” he asks, while filling a glass of water.   “I’m fine,” she replies.  He puts the glass of water down on the smooth granite in front of a second stool that’s still tucked under the bar.  As he walks out from behind the bar, he lets his fingers graze the leather seat of the closest stool.  Rey notices he’s shoeless, wearing black and gray argyle socks.  Why is he so quiet? 

Right on cue, he says, “Well, you’re here.  What do you want to do?” It’s so vivid.  Rey is frozen and says nothing.  Her heartbeat quickens.  He paces patiently.  There’s a teal sectional facing the fireplace.  The living room has soft carpet that feels new under her bare feet.  He walks across the living room, crossing into It a breakfast nook with an oak table.  Behind the kitchen table, he reaches for the wall and lightly touches a conspicuously cheap looking dial that dims the room further.   He comes back toward Rey, and pauses between the breakfast nook and living room. There’s a cabinet separating the spaces, about the same height as the kitchen table.  It has a record player and a box of records sitting on top of it.  

He approaches the record cabinet, which is about hip height to him.  He’s facing Rey, with the cabinet and the entire living room in between them.  With a casual stretch of one leg, he spreads his feet to lower himself a little and look at the records. He rolls up his sleeves, glancing up at her with his tan forearms flexing.  He thumbs through the vinyl records, which appear to have no words on the covers.  He has his head down, his hair has fallen slightly in his face, and he’s glancing up at Rey every few seconds as he thumbs through the box. 

He starts reading out the names of records, and her butterflies intensify at the low rumble of his voice. “Led Zeppelin III,” “Some Girls,” “Get Behind Me Satan,” “Ocean’s 11,” “Travis” “John Wick 2”  The foliage outside rustles gently against the window.  The next time he looks up at her, he doesn't look back down.  It’s an expectant gaze as though to see if the sound of his voice was effective.  She squirms a little and blushes.  He holds her gaze, squints slightly, and smiles a little.  He’s finished going through the records.  He doesn’t put anything on the record player, but a song she likes starts playing anyway.  Think, by Kaleida.  

He gives Rey a mischievous, inquisitive look, and runs his hand through his hair as he walks over to the sectional. He takes a seat and hinges forward at the hip, putting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together.  She admires the shape of his forearms.  He raises his clasped hands upright and sets his chin on them playfully, his biceps straining his sleeves as he meets her eyes.  He says, “Well, here we are at my place,” which she doubts.  Rey doesn’t know what she expects his place is like in reality, but it isn’t this refined.  He chuckles, removing his elbows from his knees and resuming a more grown-up posture. With arched brows and an otherwise straight face, he says, “Really.” His brows relax again.  “What do you feel like doing?”  His voice floods every inch of her body with a yearning to be touched.  

She doesn’t know how to answer him.  She doesn’t know how she got there or what’s going on, but the combination of his voice, eye contact, and arms are enough for Rey to begin visually undressing him.  He inhales through his strong nose, meets her gaze, and cocks an eyebrow: “Now that’s an idea."   He sinks all the way back into the cushions, his palms on his thighs, as if to take in the moment with a subtle, satisfied smile.  He then abruptly sits back up and starts unbuttoning his shirt.  As if on command. . . Holy shit, Rey thinks.  She realizes this is a dream. She’s lucid.  It’s like a 5-d game where she can feel everything.    In theory, she can do whatever she wants.  What she really wants at this moment is to straddle him.   

He glances down between his legs and coolly says, “sit anywhere you want.”  She feels observed, even though he isn’t real.  She walks over to the sectional and perches next to him on the edge of its velvet cushion. She feel herself getting wet.  She’s wearing a gray stretch miniskirt–something she wouldn’t have picked out for herself–black leggings, and a green cardigan with no undershirt.  He finishes unbuttoning his shirt and discards it on the floor.  She sees exactly what she’d pictured earlier - a strong physique, his lightly bronzed arms straining against a soft washed t-shirt.  “What’s your name,” he asks, and she feel a warmth growing between her legs.     She tells him, “Rey.”  “Rey,” he repeats, and she fruitlessly responds, “What’s yours?” 

He sighs and gazes around wistfully, “Her name is Rey.”  Then his eyes are back on her.  He places a large hand softly on her knee.  Electrified, she reciprocates.   It’s not real, she reminds herself.  She can do anything.  The guy from the store will never know.  She dares to run her hand a few inches up his quad and give his muscle a light squeeze.  He exhales with the slightest little groan,  “yeah,” and moves his hand to the small of back to urge her closer.  She’s sitting next to him but facing him now, left leg folded under her, working her right hand up his quad. 

The expanse of his thigh dwarfs her pale fingers on his black pants as she leans forward and lets her heel nestle between her legs to relieve some tension.  A tsunami of tingling deep inside her spreads through her breasts.  She grips his thigh for support, and lifts herself just barely,  intending to bring the inner crook of one knee up over his closest leg in a cuddly way while remaining seated on the couch.  A tent in his pants catches her eye and her skin starts to burn with urgency.  If she moves too quickly, she wonders if she could startle herself awake.  

As Rey raises her leg, he brings his far hand to it, gently coaxing her to move all the way onto his lap.  Her skirt rides up over her ass as she follows his lead.  He seizes one buttock in each hand, gives them a gentle squeeze, and takes a deep breath.  She is overcome with arousal and takes her own deep breath, shuddering and blinking slowly as she exhales. Her legs are now spread wide open straddling his lap, but she’s hovering and hasn’t put her weight on him yet.  Her head is a little higher than his in this position.  He bows his head and nuzzles his nose into her cardigan between her breasts, closing his eyes and taking in her scent.  

Rey’s modest chest is heaving against his face and he cradles her with both arms as she breathes.  She places her hands gently on his shoulders, and slowly moves them inward to fondle the hair at the nape of his neck.  She twirls a lock around her finger contemplatively, but she’s still hovering.  His arms are under hers with his face still in her sweater.  He drags his nose up to her neck and she feels her cardigan unbutton, exposing a lace bra, which is fastened in the front.  He looks up at her and reiterates in an intimate whisper, “you can sit anywhere you want.”  

Rey could tell from his breathing what would await her in his lap.  Her leggings were already soaked.  One by one, she scooted her knees closer to the back of the couch on either side of his expansive torso and let her weight down.  She is now truly straddling him, her inner thighs and the intimate seam of her warm, moist leggings fully embracing his arousal.  Her wetness spread through her leggings and into his pants.  His lumber swells against her, pulsing into her aching nub.  “Yeah,” he breathes.  “Right here.” She leans forward to feel his full length, which spans from her privates to her belly button as he thrusts against her. 

Over the course of a few blissful seconds, she feels his erection press harder against her, slide upward, then come back down, and repeat.  His mouth finds her neck, then her mouth.  She accept his lips hungrily and grinds back in rhythm.  Her lips pull away as pleasure shoots through her gut and breasts.  She leans her head back and gasps.  He moves his way back down to her heart, nuzzling his nose along her neck then planting a kiss on her collar bone, another kiss on her breast.   

Then his teeth lightly pinch her skin as they find the front of her bra.  He looks up at her as the clasp flies open and her breasts are free.  Her hard nipples are framed loosely by her dangling bra and the top half of her cardigan which is still buttoned, only at the bottom.  She’s still wearing leggings, but his cock feels too good to leave it for even one moment to undress further.  She continues to slowly grind against him as he moves one hand to her breast, keeping the other behind her for support.  He palms one breast, lightly at first, grazing her nipple with the heel of his palm, then softly cups the whole breast, enveloping it in his large hand as he continues to slowly thrust into her warmth  He uses his free hand to bring her close enough to kiss her other breast. 

Rey is burning up now.  He undoes the last two buttons of her cardigan and she lets it fall off her shoulders, discarding her bra at the same time.  She reaches down to the hem of his shirt and slides four curled fingers underneath it.  He helps her take it off, and she takes in the sight of his shredded torso.  His right pec has a scar.  She traces it with her thumb.  His pecs are so hard.  As she explores him, they continue grinding, then he gives a more emphatic thrust, like his cock cannot physically get close enough to her.  She reaches between their loins and strokes his arousal through his pants, tracing the outline of his cock in detail.  His pants are damp and shiny from her leggings and with a wetter spot of his own.  

Rey needs him badly.  He isn’t wearing a belt.  She frantically searches for his button and zipper and carefully frees him. She holds, and beholds, the glorious, veiny shaft that lands in her hand.  She savors the feeling of its soft skin as it throbs in her hand.  “You. . . are a vision,” he murmurs into her chest, which is exactly what she was thinking about his package.  She moves her thumb to the head of his cock, collects a bead of precum, and swirls around the head affectionately.  Her brows furrow with want.   He holds her tighter, closing the gap between them.  He begins thrusting again, hard and slow.  Rey grinds her throbbing warmth against his lower shaft while her hand is still in between them.  

She feels the spine of her groin twitching and knows she’s close.  She takes a deep breath and lets a sharper pleasure overtake her chest and groin.  Her breath quickens as she nears her peak.  She still has her leggings on. He reaches his broad hands into the back of her leggings, taking one buttcheek in each hand and moves her up and down against him.  “I need you,” he breathes. They look into each other’s eyes and there’s something wild in his pupils, something dark, like a warm, black hole, drawing her in.  “Take me,” she says.  He reaches a hand behind her neck to cradle her head, and they gaze at each other, breathing, grinding.  Then he pulls her face decisively to his.  

Rey inhales through her nose as their lips meet hungrily. He kisses her hard, too messily to  seal their mouths together, leaving his lower lip between her lips as he draws in a deep breath through his mouth.   He then closes his lips on her upper lip, his teeth and tongue slightly grazing it.  Half his mouth opens into hers, the other halves of their mouths still breathing heavily. 

He shifts her slightly upward, wraps her around his waist, and she feels the head of his rock hard cock aggressively nuzzling her clit, up and down.  His tongue finds hers and she lets it brush against her teeth.  When she pulls away for a moment, he looks her in the eyes. They’re both moving faster now, and  as they’re about to come, she folds herself into him, sliding her lips down his chin to his neck and opening her mouth, breathing against his skin. 

His thumb finds her most sensitive place and one touch sends her over the edge.  The pleasure is almost too much to bear.  Her ass clenches as ecstacy blooms from her groin, her nipples, her ears, and deep within her gut.  Muscles she didn’t even know she had shudder in release, and he wraps his arms tight around her, thrusting to the beat of her orgasm.  She rides wave after wave, pulsating against his cock, and as another wave swells he groans, and she feels his cock begin its own contractions, intensifying hers.  

Rey’s mouth is open against his neck and she’s breathing into his skin and as he unleashes a huge lode of cum, between them, soaking through her leggings, and gluing their clothes together.  Her canines dig harmlessly into the side of his neck – she can’t resist –  then she brings her lips to the flesh and seals it with a kiss.   She collapses into him, loosely hugging him with her legs, and the two of them just breathe.  Then he tightens his arms around her in a hug, and she looks up. She sees the mark of her teeth on his neck, and remembers no one else will see it.  This isn’t real.  

She nuzzles her head into her mark and blinks her eyelashes against his skin.   He sighs slowly through his nose, then she feel the vibrations of his voice against her face as he says, “You are… remarkable.”  She lies there breathing for a few minutes and he wraps them both in a cream, cable-knit throw.  She falls asleep in his arms and wakes up in her own bed, marveling at how a dream can make one feel like they’ve experienced someone so intimately.  She hadn’t had a lucid dream in years.  She absently scratches an itch between her breasts and wonders how she can be sure to dream of him again tonight.  Was it the rooibos, or the sheer will of her want?