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Summary:

Undercover Detectives, Rey Niima and Ben Solo, have a successful but antagonistic partnership. Fortunately, it doesn't affect their sex life.

Notes:

I'm so sorry. It's just porn.

 

For Masha.

Inspired by this gif:

 

 

Cw // there is the mildest ref to their case and carved tattoos; it’s brief

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

 

“You can turn on the fucking heater already,” she croaks between chewing powdered donuts and swallowing a cupful of orange juice.

Solo grunts next to her in the driver’s seat, the old Cadillac shifting with his heavy frame as he leans back and finally turns the key to the ignition. The windows are fogged up already, bits of ice flaking as the hum of the old engine roars loudly at the corner of the street in front of a motel they’ve been staking out for the past two weeks with other members of their unit.

“I hope if our mark hears that,” he begins gruffly, “and finds it odd, and decides not to come out onto the street, we can all thank your lack of forethought in bringing a pair of fucking gloves like I told you to.”

He rolls his jaw like he’s trying not to expend too much energy in arguing with her again, but Rey can tell that like her he’s made up of not one lone well deep in his soul, but many, all full of pressurized anger and annoyance. All ready to spill over at any minute.

Oddly, it’s why they work well together, both good at pulling at the right thread, or ready to hack and slash their way through the problem solving until they proudly stand at the center next to the resolution.

Rey snorts. “I would have had my gloves, but someone insisted on picking me up from the station instead of my house.” As if that’s even a good enough argument when she knows–

“It’s snowing outside,” he drawls, gesturing toward the windshield that has to strike a balance of clear and icy throughout their watch to keep the illusion that no one is in the vehicle. “Who the fuck leaves their house without gloves when it’s snowing outside?”

Rey ignores him, reaching forward and turning up the heat with a loud click to the controls.

“Easy,” he corrects her, batting her hand away and dragging the levels back down.

“In an hour it’ll be worse,” she warns.

“In an hour we’ll have backup,” he reminds her. “In two, you’ll be bent over and taking it like a good girl.”

Rey shivers again, this time from the unexpected turn of his words.

It’s sweeter than the damn powder on her lips and fingers and sits heavier than black coffee. It’s what all normal people would call foreplay, but for them it’s anything but a regular occurrence. It’s only happened twice before when the hours spent in the car got to be a bit too much.

Rey licks her finger and lips, sticking a single digit back into the bag and dragging it along the corner before licking that as well.

“I can dust you with that if you want,” he says, a smile creeping into the edges of his voice as she looks ahead, eyes on the door of the side entrance to the building.

“Dust me with what?” she asks dryly without giving him too much attention back.

“Last time I thought about it,” he says, fingers tracing the end of the empty bag of donuts before he thumps the side, forcing out a crinkling sound from the paper and plastic. “I wanna dust you with the sugar and lick you clean.”

The suggestion hits her hot along her spine, but she avoids giving him an inch. If nothing else, they’re too far away from the motel. If she starts that shit now, she’s gonna have to let him fuck her in his ugly car, and God help either of them if one of the other members of their unit find her with her bare ass showing while Solo rails her in the backseat.

“Fuck it, I’d do it without the sugar,” he muses quietly.

Rey shakes her head, grabbing one of the folders from their case file from the floorboard and opens it up. “Remind me.”

“Of…”

“Lacerations in the shape of a little cross, but we’re sure they’re done on initiation and not punishment,” she continues, listing off facts in the case, avoiding his now heated gaze.

He groans at her. “Having someone carve a tattoo on your skin is definitely punishment. They just don’t like to say it–”

“Yeah,” she responds, “and each victim of the theft–”

“Had them carved unconscious and after the break-in was complete,” he finishes for her. “You know this. We’ve been over this a million times. I’m trying to talk about fucking you again.”

She can’t acknowledge it. Not now. “But they were all minor cuts, right? Except for the one… the one we think may be running the ring now based on the fact that his mark is too deep,” she says.

Solo doesn’t respond, causing her to finally look up.

“Hi there,” he says, studying her, frozen hands now shaking slightly.

It’s like her body is preparing for a slam of vibrations heading her way. The color of her skin changes, flushing under the chill of the heater not being nearly warm enough.

“What do you want?” she asks, resigned.

Probably not a question she wants an answer to and yet, here they are, him about to answer.

“You don’t know?” he asks playfully. “You know everything.”

She snorts. “I didn’t specialize in forensic psychology” –She looks up at him and gives him a shit-eating grin– “nor am I a narcissistic sociopath.”

Solo smiles back. “Yeah, you definitely didn’t study psychology.”

He laughs good-naturedly, and it melts a bit of the ice that she allows to build up between them. Necessary ice that brings a protective layer to this thing they’re doing. Career-friendly ice that keeps them in check when one or both wants to take it too far.

“I’d lick the sugar off of your cock,” she admits without looking at him.

And one or both always wants to take it too far.

“I’d let you,” he says quietly, cutting the engine and leaning with his head back in the seat.

“I’d do it really slow,” she adds casually.

“Yeah?”

Rey nods. “Yeah. Honestly, it’s all I’ve thought about since…”

“Licking sugar off of my dick?” he teases.

Rey releases a small, shuddering breath. “When I think about it… you push into my mouth. Kind of desperate. All the way back.” She swallows, her mouth hollowing, back of her throat expanding just at the thought of the intrusion. “You make me gag a little. You fuck my mouth until you almost come.”

Solo adjusts in his seat, and Rey wants to do the same, knees pressing together until the seam of her jeans hit nice against her center.

“I’m never gonna be able to watch you put on chapstick the same way,” he remarks casually.

“No,” she agrees. “I’ll never be able to eat a powdered donut without wanting to get fucked.”

They sigh.

There’s still heat in the car, but Rey’s hands begin to stiffen, even as she places them in her pockets and between her knees to warm them. Solo moves his hand over her lap, asking permission first before encasing both in one hand. She has to admit that it takes away the initial chill, but the proximity of his touch and the gentle way his knuckles brush against her thighs makes her part her legs until his hand is pressing down between them.

He adjusts his fist, flattening his palm and encouraging her to tighten her thighs around him, until he pushes up against her mound.

Rey gasps, the heel of his hand pressing. Solo nods and Rey rocks her hips forward, moaning when her clit rubs against him. The chill on her hands forgotten, she shoves them under her bottom for leverage, squeezing her thighs and slowly, so slowly, rides his hand.

“Just like that,” he whispers. “Fuck, yes, just like that.”

Whimpering with the next few thrusts, Rey watches the snow collect on the windshield as she keeps an eye on the entrance of the building.

“Keep going,” he says. “You’re a good girl. You can do both. I know you don’t think I heard that fucking speech about multitasking, but I did, Detective. I know you can get off and get your mark at the same time.”

Rey sighs, head back, eyes on the entrance as she rides his hand harder, circling her hips until his heel bumps over and over against her clit.

“I can’t… can’t do this without getting too…” She stops, finding a new feeling at a different spot and chases it for a few seconds before continuing. “I may need…more?”

“Jacket,” he commands, dragging one of his too-light denim jackets from the backseat and dropping it into her lap.

Rey lifts her hips and shimmies her jeans down, shoving at her tights beneath until she’s scratching her nails along her hips to get her panties down. She flops the jacket over her lap and tries not to focus on the lazy smile on Solo’s face when he puts a hand beneath his jacket and finds her slippery and warm.

“Fuck, I know a good place for your hands,” he says.

Pushing her head into the headrest, Rey grinds down again, meeting his hand, his fingers. She huddles under his jacket, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing in frantic circular motions until her body is held hostage by the rhythm.

The guttural sound is not from her, but from her partner as he sinks another finger into her cunt, the squish of his thrusting lewd and perfect to her ears. She’s only ever been wet for one person and why in hell did it have to be him?

“More,” she says. “I really… really need…”

“Say it again,” he coos. “Say you need me, Niima. Say you belong to me.”

“Ugh,” she moans. “Oh, God… I’m…”

“Fuck already?” he asks.

That first stretch of the metaphorical hill approaches before she knows it, but it’s hardly any surprise since he puts her on edge these days. The more he baits her, the more she rises. The more she rises, the more she wants to let go.

“Tell me you’re gonna fuck me after this,” she grits. “Tell me you’re gonna–”

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he rumbles, leaning over the beat up console to get close to her ear. “I’m gonna watch you peel off all your clothes. I’m gonna eat up this sweet pussy… because you get really sweet after you come.”

Rey cries out, her hands moving far too fast under his jacket for there to be any mystery about what they’re doing, but she can’t help it. With her eyes on the entrance of the motel, she rides his hand harder, pushing into his thrusts, rubbing her clit until her hand shakes from fatigue instead of chill.

A double knock on the trunk of the car has them both freezing, Solo pulling away his hands abruptly from her clenching warmth and placing them on the steering wheel.

Rey glances back, crouching under the coat. “Shit, did they–”

“No,” he answers quickly, looking in the rearview mirror and giving their relief a nod. “It’s Storm and Dameron.”

Rey relaxes and after a few moments when they have the all clear, Solo cranks the car and heads to their base of operations, another crappy motel twenty minutes away.

Alone on the second floor, in the back corner on the edge of a few reserved rooms, they take off the first layer, their badges and miscellaneous work paraphernalia that they lay on the dresser. There are two double beds, polyester duvet covers crisp again from maid service. And Rey thinks that tonight may be the first time they only use one.

“Are we still–”

“Yeah,” he says definitively, pulling off the stiff button-up flannel, his undershirt, and then his pants.

“Do you think anyone saw?”

“Do you?” he answers, sitting on the edge of the bed and waiting.

She throws off her sweater, brushing away places the acrylic pilled and settled into the deodorant under her armpits. “I don’t know.”

“Honestly, if they’da come up while I was still fucking you with my hand, I probably would have kept going,” he says, fingers slipping inside the cups of her bra when she steps between his knees.

He stares at her tits. “If we were doing this for real, you’d never wear a bra again. You’d let me suck on those things whenever I wanted. You’d let me fuck ‘em. You’d let me come on ‘em.”

“You have a lot of plans,” she observes nervously. “Seem to think I’d let you do whatever–”

“No,” he says. “But you’d let me do a lot of things.”

Rey doesn’t respond verbally; it’s just her face that asks, bottom lip caught in her teeth urging him on.

“Yeah,” he says with a shrug. He gently traces the straps on her shoulders before pushing them down.

He wraps his arms around her, reaching for the hook at the back and letting her bra fall to the floor.

She knows what he wants to do. He talks about it enough, but he’s yet to bother. Or they’ve been too quick to fuck so they can pretend they’re not thinking about it half the day.

“C’mere,” he says thickly, squeezing an ass cheek as he nudges her towards him.

With his other hand, he cups the underside of a tit, tapping his fingers and watching it jiggle before he squeezes and feeds the tip of it into his mouth.

She releases a harsh, held breath, her hands seeking something to hang onto at the roots of his hair.

“Fuck you, Solo,” she says. It lilts a little, like she’s soothing him as he soothes back with his mouth sucking and nipping at her breasts. “Fuck you very much.”

He squeezes her ass, taking great big handfuls. The man can talk a lot about her tits, but he can’t deny he loves to plant his face between her cheeks and suck at her folds that way. He normally starts there. Not now. Not here where it’s surprisingly tender.

“Pants,” he whispers, and Rey shoves at the layers fast, carried by the frenzy and soft rasp of his moans as he keeps sucking and planting kisses—fuck him, those kisses—on her belly and then hips.

Laying with his back on the bed, he positions her so she can climb over his torso and hover above his face. His tongue wags lazily in a teasing motion, and before she even sits down, he shows her exactly what he wants to do, what he wants.

It’s hardly for anything more than letting him taste her, and he strokes his cock with her on his tongue, lapping up into her pussy while she watches from on high.

“I thought I was gonna be bent over your couch,” she says, panting.

He speaks into her cunt, his voice muffled by her skin, by slick and warmth. It makes her laugh for a moment, it makes her wonder if he’d wanna die like this. It freaks her out that she may know the answer.

When she moves back down his long torso, the taste of his mouth on her tongue is carnal, sweet like he said it would be.

He pushes at his briefs, releasing the rest of his cock. His throat is exposed as he grips himself and aims for her entrance. She licks a strip up the side, and makes him groan. He likes that. Every time he’s liked that.

When she does it again he thrusts up, pushing her hips down at the same time to shove her down on his cock, forcing her to take him little by little. It stings. Not in a bad way. In the delicious and mind numbingly good way that harvests old interactions and other failed hookups and tills her foundation until it’s better equipped to take new.

“Fuck,” she spits out with a groan, her head falling back and leaning just enough to make him catch her with a hand to her lower back.

It’s really good like this. She can’t say as much to him out loud, but he’s a good fuck. Maybe the best of her life if she’s not careful. Yeah, it’s easily the best, because when he parts her, he takes his time even if he has to grit his teeth to slow down and do so.

Solo wraps his hands around her waist, forcing her to circle her hips around lasciviously. He leans on one hand once she’s got the hang of it, though she cries out every few moments from the way he teases against her front wall.

“Like the car,” he suggests, referencing her rather loose cowgirl-ready style from his Cadillac, chasing a good climax like her life depended on it. “Ride me like I just told you to re-file that paperwork from last week.”

Her hips immediately lift up, falling back onto his cock with a loud smack of skin on skin.

“That’s it…Rey. That’s it, mean girl,” he chides.

She’s not sure why it works, except it does. He’ll go toe-to-toe with her any old time, but here he won’t let her take herself so seriously as to ruin her need.

“Whaddoes it say about me that I get hard every time you come barreling through the door pissed off about protocol and paperwork?” he rasps out, hugging her to him to let her ride him harder.

“Sounds like you need an authority figure.”

“Sounds about right, Niima,” he says, shifting the weight of her and beginning to give back as much as she takes.

With a hand cupping her ass, he flips them over, placing her on her back. He pulls out, and she won’t think about the fact that she hasn’t asked him to use a condom since the second time because she’s particular about the way this cock and only this cock feels inside of her.

Rey pulls him down, fingers digging into his shoulders when he looks at her too long. “Come on, Solo–”

“Fuck that,” he says, offering her gentle nudges of his cock through her folds until she mewls in an effort to beg. “If my cock is here, you can say Ben.”

Rey shuts her trap, not giving in until he parts her to the hilt. “Ben.”

“Good…oh, fuck that’s so good.”

And then he fucks her so hard, she’d like to say it feels like her body’s made up of new matter entirely, of starlight, of empty thoughts or some shit.

But she feels full of thoughts, ones that imagine how easy it will be to do it again. She’s a vessel, one of those big jugs for water all empty. She’s just waiting and wanting for him to fill her up before she cracks into a thousand pieces. He won’t let her though.

“Please,” she begs. It’s not even pitiful, knowing he’ll give it to her. “Please. Fill me. Just…”

“Don’t worry,” he whispers, rocking harder, making the shitty springs beneath them creak and groan. “I won’t tell anybody how we like it, will I?”

Rey shakes her head, her cunt clenching at the sound of his voice.

“I won’t tell anyone how well you take it. I won’t tell anyone how much I wanna drown in your sweet cunt.”

The last words are a bit broken, and just as she imagines he’ll be done, his fingers rest on her throat, gently turning her head for him to lick at her ear.

“You take it so well,” he says.

And then some part of it is over, because that bit of longing in his voice breaks apart as he fucks her through her orgasm and pulls out just in time.

She tries not to protest at the loss, but it’s for the best. This way she gets to lay back and watch him come.

The evidence is astounding, all parties accounted for as the perpetrators stare at each other panting, Ben Solo’s spend on her chest.

He runs a finger through it, dragging it down over her skin and circling a nipple.

“I won’t tell,” he says.

He pulls out and flops down beside her, taking one hand and resting it over her cunt.

Rey sighs, curling onto her side away from him and waiting until he spoons her. He strokes her clit lazily, nuzzling against her nape.

“Another shift in eight,” he says.

“Yeah,” she says. “Wake me.”

Solo sighs into her skin, the relief palpable as he grabs the corner of the duvet and pulls it over them both.

 

Notes:

Please show some love to Laura for drawing this scene 😵💫 from Ch 1 that kind of jumpstarted the fic in motion for me once I saw Masha's gif: Detective Solo

THANK YOU, LAURA!!! <333