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dirtbag-linecook-kyloren · 5 months

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apparently we're all posting smut for thanksgiving, and I wanted to join!! this is an excerpt from my Pornstar AU, for context in thix au it's basically benarmie bc i couldn't find a way too add enough trauma to kylo's backstory to justify a change (because this is really a story abt hux) and Ben's ace in this story, so their sex life is basically just things I find interesting as someone who is also ace? im really playing with the definition of sex here in a way i find super fun.

anyway have 2k of porn, and then after you should all read jayne's fic private demonstration because it's amAZING

OKAY PORN UNDER THE CUT

As strange as it was adjusting to mornings with someone in his bed, Armitage is having more trouble right now reaching over and finding only rumpled blankets and a long cold pillow. The scent of Ben's shampoo still clings to the fabric when he pulls it into his arms, buries his face in it and takes a deep breath. The blinds are open, no doubt done by Ben long before the sun rose, before he climbed out of their bed, before he left Armitage to sleep away another day of retirement aimlessly.

While the garden has proved a useful distraction, some days are harder than others. Each first light brings with it the reminder that he doesn't have anything to do, besides keeping three plants alive and taking care of himself. Having never been skilled at the latter, Armitage can feel himself fraying at the edges. He twirls his wedding ring idly with his thumb, runs the pad over smooth metal, and watches how light reflects off the gold band. For a moment, Armitage remembers that day in the Trader Joe's, dreaming about taking a man home and doing something for himself, fucking someone without a camera involved.

Some might consider it a betrayal to explore this line of thought, Ben's made it clear that Armitage is allowed to imagine whatever he wants, and do with those thoughts whatever he pleases. Though his morning wood is fading, Armitage reaches a hand between his legs, buries his head deeper into Ben's pillow and cups himself, relishes in the pressure. He imagines an alternate world, one where Ben took him home, laid him out on the couch, slotted between his thighs until clothed erections pressed together, layers of fabric adding to the friction.

Ben would have gasped into his mouth, still shy, and Armitage would have whispered encouragement at the shell of his ear, nipped at the lobe before kissing his way down Ben's neck. His fingers would have popped the button of Ben's jeans, his hands pushed down his joggers, and following along with the daydream, Armitage pushes his briefs down, propping Ben's pillow against the headboard so he can sit up and lean into it.

Eyes closed, Armitage circles his hole lazily. He's not willing to move and grab lube, so the most he can do is toy with himself, but imagining Ben's hands make even that exciting. Ben's voice, husky from lust, stuttering with nerves, asking if Armitage is going to be good for him, open for him, scream for him.

"Yes," Armitage whispers to the empty room, moving from his hole to wrap around himself, pressing under the head with a finger while his free hand toys with a nipple. "Always, Ben."

"Good morning."

His eyes snap open, his neck jerking as his gaze shoots to the door and his hands freeze. Ben's there, leaning against the frame, shoulders loose and a smile tugging at his lips. Does he move his hands away? And when had Ben gotten home? What time is it? Armitage hasn't checked the clock yet, hasn't even taken his phone off the charger.

"Short day," Ben says, coming further into the room. He takes Armitage's dressing chair and picks it up, moves it to face the bed and leans against the back. "Keep going."

A decade of fucking on camera, and this is what makes Armitage blush. With stilted motions, Armitage strokes his cock, torn between looking Ben in the eye and pretending he's not there. Ben moves as Armitage hand slides up and down, comes to his side of the bed and opens the drawer where his toys are.

"Ben-" he starts, but he's shushed, one hand raising a finger while the other rifles through the drawer.

"I've been thinking," Ben says. His hand withdraws from the drawer, a bottle of lube and a dildo both fitting in his grasp. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to try something." His mouth opens, word Armitage can't find the words, listens instead to the click of his throat as he swallows, the hitch of his breath as he reaches up to take the items from Ben. "I'll need you to use your words, sweetheart."

"Yes, god," Armitage gasps. Ben is well aware what the pet name does to him, has seen more than once how he flushes at the smallest bit of affection. One of his hands stills, just holding himself, and the other sets everything he’s been handed next to him on the sheets. "Yes."

"Good." There's a laughter to Ben's words, even as he sits in that chair at the foot of the bed, legs spread, facing Armitage and watching him with warm eyes. Sat like that, Ben's slacks do little to hide him even soft, and Armitage has to stop himself from staring. "Are you going to do what I say?"

"Ben-"

Ben clicks his tongue.

"Call me 'love,' dear. We don't want you to wear my name out." Armitage’s flush moves down his neck, turns his chest red as his head tries to hide in the pillow. "None of that. I want to see how much you enjoy everything."

"Ben-" Armitage winces, looks forward and forces himself to hold Ben’s gaze. "Love, please."

"Hands off."

Armitage groans, but he listens, grips the sheets and looks at Ben, from his eyes, warm and calm as always, to the rise and fall of his chest, even and slow. Ben chuckles, leans forward in his seat as his elbows rest on his thighs.

"What were you thinking about when I came in?" he asks. "When you said my name."

His head twitches, and Armitage wants desperately to hide, bury himself in the blankets away from intense brown eyes. He feels exposed, flayed open. Instead his own gaze traces Ben's jaw, wonders how his stubble would feel against Armitage's chest.

"The day we met," Armitage says, breathes almost. His hands clench in time with his jaw, and Ben's silence bids him to continue. "Imagined you spreading me out on the couch, didn't get much farther than that."

"Half-fucked out, and still all you could think about was more," Ben says with a laugh. "I want you to stretch yourself, sweetheart. Just one finger for now, I'll decide when you're ready for more. Do you understand?" Armitage nods. "Out loud, honey. I need to hear you."

Armitage's breath stutters as he uncaps the lube.

"Yes, Love," he says. His hand shakes as it moves down his body, as he shifts down just enough to bare himself to Ben. His legs spread on habit, knees drawing up towards his chest, the muscle memory of camera angles burned into the motions. He hasn't shaved in a few days, but Ben watches with rapt attention as Armitage circles his hole.

"Don't tease yourself," he says. "That's my job."

Armitage groans as he slips inside, takes a deep breath and relaxes as best he can. His cock is weeping against his stomach, head red and precome spilling from the slit, and Armitage wants to take it in hand, give himself relief. He keeps his hand in the sheets instead, flexes his fingers. "Can you keep a slow rhythm on your own, or do you need me to set it for you, dear?"

He can't think, let alone keep time, but his throat is dry and his head foggy, so Armitage shakes his head, watches as Ben's brows furrow.

"Armitage?"

"You, please," he manages.

"You're with me?"

"Yes." After another breath. "Wanna be good."

"You are," Ben says. "You're doing so well."

Standing from his seat again, Ben comes around the bed, sits next to Armitage and leans into him as the mattress dips. His dress shirt is rough against Armitage's heated skin. He's pulled into Ben's chest, and his head falls back to rest in the crook of Ben's neck, panting breaths against his collar.

"Is this better, sweetheart?" he asks, words vibrating through Armitage. One of his hands is on Armitage's waist, and the other runs slowly up and down his arm. "Can you keep that pace?"

It will be glacial, Armitage knows, work him closer to the edge inch by inch and still maybe never get him there. But it's what Ben wants him to do, and Armitage wants to be good.

"Yes," he mutters, nodding. He pulls out as Ben's hand drags down his arm, hissing as he thrusts in when the motion moves upward. Minutes pass with the slow push and pull, hours, maybe. Armitage's world has narrowed to the warmth of Ben at his back, the hand on his arm, and the catch of his rim each time he pulls out to the tip.

"Add another, honey," Ben says, words whispered into Armitage's hair. "You don't have to be quiet. The world would be lucky to hear you."

His stomach twists as Armitage lets out a noise, a gasp, a moan, a sob. Even with thin fingers, there's a stretch, a strain. When his fingers are fully seated, Ben has him scissor them, pressing soft kisses to the crown of his head, his temple, the skin behind his ear.

"Tell me how it feels," Ben says.

"Not enough," Armitage groans. "More, please, Love." The dildo rests on the sheets to their left, and Armitage looks to it. "Please."

"Another finger first, sweetheart." His eyes squeeze closed, and Armitage tries to focus, slides into himself even as he loses the rhythm for a second, his wrist stuttering. "Do you need to go faster? Tell me what you need."

"Ben- Love." He drawls the words, turning his face up blindly, mouth open. His unasked plea is answered as their lips meet, kiss chaste despite the depravity of the situation. When Ben pulls away, Armitage whines, an aching in his chest.

"I want you to fuck yourself now, honey. However you want, you've been so patient, exactly how I pictured." Both his arms are wrapped around Armitage now, pressing them close enough the buttons of Ben's shirt dig into his skin. Armitage doesn't grab the lube, can't think beyond lining the dildo up with his entrance and sliding it in slowly, inch by inch until the base is flush against his rim. He can't bear to pull it fully out, can't suffer through the feeling of emptiness, so Armitage fucks himself with shallow thrusts, his shoulder straining to angle just right.

His prostate is just out of reach, and Armitage sobs, hides in Ben's neck again as he sits just on the edge. It's so much, and still it's not enough.

"Love," he gasps, chest heaving and breath hitching. "Please."

"You need help, don't you, dear?" Ben asks, and one of his fingers pinches at Armitage's nipples. "Can't think enough to get yourself off, so you need my help." He does, god, Armitage doesn't even know what to do, can't collect his thoughts enough. "Sweetheart, you have two hands. Wrap the other one around yourself for me."

Armitage does, holds himself loosely. If he slows down the thrust of the dildo inside him, he can manage weak strokes, twist his wrist at the tip and runs his thumb over the slit. Armitage moans, settles for just squeezing his cock to thrust deeper as his stomach coils tighter, as his toes flex, as his breathing grows shallow.

"Close," he mutters. "Please, Love, I'm so close."

Ben's teeth close around the shell of his ear, worry the cartilage and nip at the skin.

"What are you waiting for?" he asks. "You've been so good, honey. Let yourself come." His movements stutter as he pulls out and pushes back in, and Armitage lets go of the dildo, leaves it seated inside him and thrusts up into his own hand. "Are you picturing me inside you, sweetheart? We'll need to get you something bigger next time, let you really imagine how I'd split you open."

Mouth gaping, pushing back into the body behind him, Armitage comes. He spills over himself, over his hand, come warm on his fingers and sticking to his skin, and even with closed eyes, he can imagine Ben's gaze, eyes hooded and focused. Armitage pumps himself through his orgasm, smears his cock with come and hisses through the overstimulation, chasing the feeling despite the pain.

"Gorgeous," Ben whispers in his ear, pulling his hand away. "Look at you, how ruined you are. I'll be right back, dear, I need to get something to clean you up."

Ben climbs out of bed then, settles Armitage back onto the pillows as his breathes even out and he floats on the aftershocks of sensation. The tap in the bathroom, feet on the wooden floor, and then a warm, wet towel is wiped gently over him, careful against the sensitive skin of his cock.

"Sit up, sweetheart," Ben says, guiding him up with a hand at the small of his back. His eyes flutter open, and Ben hands him a glass of water. Armitage takes it in weak hands, glad that Ben doesn't let it go, but instead brings it up to his lips. "You did so well, Armitage. God, I hope you liked that."

Armitage chuckles, pulls the glass away from his lips.

"Understatement," he mutters. "Loved it, Ben, just-" The water is set on the bedside table, and Ben opens his arms. Armitage climbs in, settles across Ben's legs and rests his head on Ben's shoulder. "You said you were thinking about it?"

"You always-" Ben pauses. "During the-" He winces. "During, you seemed so happy, just listen to instructions. I wanted to try and give that to you, somehow. Googled a few things, came up with this."

"You should Google things more," Armitage says. He's in Ben's arms, but he's also back on that set, surrounded by bodies and meeting Ben's eyes through them, watching himself be watched. "Just you, though, right? Only want you."

Ben presses a kiss into his hair, pulling him closer.

"Just me, and just you."

I can't find the like line break thing so this is just a line break

Also the during ben's talking abt is a gang bang hux films for work before he retires, this scene makes a little more sense at the beginning and end in context of the fic but mainly it's just porn and @moondyad was my one yes vote to join in the porn fest that I needed bc i literally only ever need one other person to encourage me

#kylux #benarmie

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