inappropriately timed force bond moments (both nsfw and humor approaches)
dream-sharing
emotional bleed/transference (from rey, involving other parties)
inappropriate force bond voyeurism on rey/poe or rey/finn
mid-conversation force bond interruption
The Rise of Skywalker- Cross-galaxy chase of the Resistance
anything related to ben solo, but especially:
snoke confessionals with family or friends of family
returning to the light
smuggler life style
jedi knight ben
resistance-fighter ben
The Rise of Skywalker- Force Ghost communications w/ Rey
anything related to supreme leader kylo ren, but especially:
fall via coup
resistance fighter reconditioning (gen or nsfw)
force ghost visits from anakin/luke/rey/leia/snoke
defeat by the resistance, and subsequent aftermath
The Rise of Skywalker- Mole Discovery w/ Hux
canto bight:
shady weapons deals
picking up prisoners
recruitment
obligatory dinner party
general casino shenanigans
beach party
basically any reason you can think of to use canto bight as a setting piece
A note on romance: I will ship all of the new trilogy characters with Kylo Ren (except Snoke/Family). But I have no interest in exploring domestic-style takes on them. Thank you for understanding.
[ His praise is a warmth which coils in her chest. The color has returned to her cheeks, bright pink with both the strain denying her oxygen and the increased blood-flow of arousal. But more notable is the way that the slide of his cock has bruised her lips, leaving them wet and swollen as he pulls her back.
She cringes at the prickling sting of his fist tightening in her hair, but the sound that slips out of her throat is caught halfway between a groan and a sputter. Light, airy, lewd. She forces her eyes back open as he makes his demand, finding his face. She searches for the softness behind his eyes, the part of him that is doing this to connect with her, to share something with her, not to hurt her.
Those threads, tugging gently at the bond, are inarguably needy. But she opens her mouth all the same, allowing him to slide past her lips again. She grips his thighs, fingertips bruising with how tightly she holds him to keep from flinching back as he thrusts in. Her whole body resists, her throat closing up before the head of his cock can reach it, her neck muscles tightening to pull her head back. She has to fight against all her instincts around large objects getting caught in her throat just to let him do it.
A thick layer of spit now coats his cock, making each glide easier. After his second thrust, she gets a moment to collect herself, eyes opening. They're glassy with strain. But she looks at his face, chasing that praise again. Then she tries to swallow him down again of her own accord, reclaiming control over the movement for the brief few moments she can. ]
[He groans, pleased with her initiative -- it's hard for him to remember that he is supposed to be teaching her the art of punishment when she's anticipating his desires so keenly. So, he indulges, and then pulls her off so she can look up and see him scoff with some unexpected delight.]
Getting a little overeager.
[Despite the fact that he obviously likes what she is doing, there's a warning in his tone, and he is slow to guide her mouth back to his cock this time. After his head passes her lips, he pushes himself to the back of her throat and holds her there, affectionately peeling back her hair so that he can watch her choke on him.]
[ When he pulls her off, she gasps. Spit runs down her chin, a single strand clinging between his cock and her lips as she pants for breath. Stray, sweaty strands of hair cling to her face. She certainly looks like she's been enjoying it too much.
Then he chokes her on him. On purpose, it seems.
Rey's hands push at his thighs when he holds her down around his cock. Her eyes shut then, cringing with the effort of keeping herself together, with the effort of trying not to choke on him. Her hips and knees shift, trying to find comfort of some kind, to adjust in a way that makes her able. But all she can do is groan around him, a hapless sort of noise.
There's no looking up at him like this. She just tries to pull back, to resist the push of his hand. ]
[When she starts to struggle, he immediately lets up and pulls her off, free hand going to cradle and support her jaw. He leans down to kiss her on the forehead, but it is short and chaste for how out of breath he is.]
That was good.
[His hand goes for her throat, though he does not squeeze -- he merely uses it to guide her up to kiss him.]
[ She wants to finish him like this, just to prove she can when she's not grappling with how he's holding her, using her mouth as a hole to fuck, but her throat is raw now and her head feels overwarm and dizzy and she lets the complaints die on her tongue. Kissing him, anyway, is the reassurance she'd been seeking. It's not as soothing as how he'd called her good, but it does the job of evoking intimacy, and Rey pursues his lips further, straightening on her knees.
Then she reaches with both hands to grip his cock, pumping it the same way she had when he'd filled her. Her grip is firm, almost too firm, because she has abandoned caution now, acknowledging that he wants something more quietly brutal. The duality of it — his soft praise, and the rough physicality — speaks directly to something inside of her. ]
I am eager. [ She tells him, voice raw, her lips moving against his so his mouth swallows the words. ] I want you.
[Kylo Ren hums against her lips, grinding up into her hands while she speaks into his mouth. Some muscles in his back spasm when she applies too much pressure, but he doesn't ask for her to halt. Instead, he reaches for her to coax her into standing so that he can grab for her ass roughly.]
Then I suppose it's a good thing you've been so good to me.
[There is a crack that follows as he uses that same hand to slap her ass.]
[ When she stands, she has to let go of him, but the stretch of her legs is so pleasant, so relieving. It's a cold water shower on a hot day on Jakku. She shuts her eyes and exhales, blissfully, which leaves her relaxed and comfortable and unexpecting when his open palm cracks against the sweat-dampened flesh. She jumps, but the sound of surprise carries in it notes of pleasure, gratitude.
The sting radiates from the red mark in the shape of his hand. Deeper, like it's imprinting her, claiming her with a fine sensation comparable to an electrical burn. But also across the surface, tingling the rest of her skin until goosebumps prickle on her thighs.
Rey's mouth hangs open, her expression faintly drugged and distant as she savors that feeling and resurfaces, so used to accepting what he's giving now that she has to think hard to find what she needs, what precisely she wants from him. She loops her arms around his neck, drawing him close to her chest. One of her hands threads through his hair and guides his lips back to one of her breasts. ]
Thank you. [ She breathes out the words not like he's done her a favor but like through him she's seen God. She tips her chin down, rubs her nose against the top of his head. After a moment of this, she gathers herself, steadies her breathing, and says: ] Again. Do it again. [ A beat, then: ] Please.
[Kylo hums softly in pleasure as he's guided to her breast, spreading his lips slowly against the underside and sucking backwards. All the while, his hand rubs around the last spot he had hit to soothe it and draw out the anticipation he feels on the other end of the bond. When he pulls back, there is a brief pause before his hand comes down on the other cheek with a sound that echoes in the small space between them.
He can feel the mixture of their previous coupling dripping down his cock anew as anticipation grips him in turn. That is when he moves his mouth over her nipple, rolling it between his tongue and teeth. A growl of impatience grips him, and his mind starts to race about how to proceed.
Between coming up for air from the abuse he lays on her breast, he breathes out his thoughts -- if only to keep him from the urge to simply take her before she is ready to move on.]
Hm. Good girl doesn't seem to mind being treated like a naughty girl.
[ Rey leans into the touch, savoring the steady massage as much as the sharp slap, which expels air from her lungs in a sudden burst of feeling. Her eyes drift shut, sated by the simple duality and the way it leaves her feeling fulfilled and yearning at the same time. Her fingertips dig into his scalp, nails scraping as she gets a fistful of his hair. Her other hand tightens too, at his shoulder, digging into the muscle there.
The fascination and husky intrigue with which he addresses the point of her enjoyment, though, is what makes her groan. Full-bodied and warm and needy. But then her eyes open again and she peers down at him, a glittering amusement behind her eyes. ]
Naughty?
[ She repeats, like she's never heard the word and finds it to be comical and her new favorite word all at once. And why wouldn't it be, given the context? So she supposes it's true enough, what he says, and affirms: ] Feels good.
[ Which is not the whole truth. It does hurt, the slaps against her skin, the sharp sting that radiates and lingers. But the rub of his palm soothes it, and beyond that point, the tingling is stimulating, encouraging. She basks in it. The sting wakes her body up to appreciate the rest, for the way his mouth works over her breast. But the contented lingering has stretched out for as long as Rey, task-driven and goal-oriented Rey, has the patience for. So she pulls at his hair to make him look up at her and she slots her mouth against his, lapping against the edge of his teeth, and only when she stops for breath, she says, ] I want to cum. Will you help me?
[ She could show him. Lesson for lesson. But she wants it to be at his hand, this time. Though her eyes linger on his bruised, wet lips for a moment and she thinks his mouth or his cock would be alright too. But first, she needs to know if he's through punishing her, and ready to reward her instead. ]
[Her hands tug back on his hair and he moans openly, his cock throbbing with need again.. Kylo Ren leans deeply into the kiss, squeezing hungrily at her ass when she doesn't come for his cock again immediately. There is a moment's hesitation where he tugs again before forcing himself to let go. If what he was doing was enough, then she would have let him keep going.
It was only fair that he allow her to guide him, in this.]
[ She wants to climb in his lap. She does. But experience (in the barest definition of the word) tells her that the fatigue on her thighs would do a number on her already shaky limbs, and she might not be able to keep going. This realization comes as equal parts exciting for its novelty and humiliating because she has not had that problem with any other exercise in years. A hard life on Jakku had ensured that.
But she will have to need to ask for what she wants, where normally she would just take, because what she wants is to not have to pin him down and ride him to her climax. She glances around at the bed to work out the logistics. ]
You want it too. I can feel it. [ Which is invigorating in a different way, to be so close to someone that she can feel his arousal, not just her own. She takes his hand in hers, guiding it over her hip. ]
I'm going to show you how. Then you can decide if I've been good enough. [ She wets her lips as she guides his thumb to her clit. Direct contact is too much, even now. Too sudden. Closing her eyes, she uses his fingers to search out the right spot just aside that sensitive spot. ]
[He allows his hand to be taken without a fuss, watching to where she guides him with a hawklike gaze. Once he starts to stroke, his eyes slowly rise to meet her's again to watch for her reaction to his attention.]
I like seeing you like this.
[It's a surprisingly easy admission for him to make. It's like -- now that he's found this, he can say anything and she will devour it.]
I like it better when I am inside of you. But I might get used to this too.
[ It's an indulgent thing to point out, and she dwells on it, lounging around the idea. It's hedonistic, how she settles blissfully into this, how she basks. Rey has never had an opportunity like it before. She's able to forget the Vakdir outside, the device they don't understand, the fact that Hathaway has forgotten them. All that exists is this, this moment, and the pleasure they can give one another. ]
I told you it would fit. [ She sounds so pleased with herself, the cat that got the cream. Rey's breath lilts, though, as he attends to her. A little whine slips out here, more appreciative than needy. She's in no hurry. Not anymore. ] Good. Yeah. Like that.
[ She doesn't need to say it, but she offers it up freely anyway. She has learned it's worth saying the things that don't need to be said; certainly, she likes hearing them. When Rey's eyes open, she stops him by taking hold of his wrist. ]
Let me lay down. Then you can-- [ She's breathless, grappling around the words. ] We can do both.
[He takes her meaning through the bond before she even says it out loud. Despite the fact that she has grabbed him, he doesn't stop reaching for her, continuing his attention even has he stands and moves to shift her around so that she is the one with her back to the bed. His other hand moves to his cock, which he slides across her cunt lewdly, dragging all the mess they've already made with him.
His breathing has become deep, heavy, and wanting.]
This time -- I won't stop until you cum for me.
[He tries to tease, giving her just the tip of his head before pulling out, but the attempt makes his entire body twitch like a livewire from the sensitivity of the manuever.]
[ She lets out a mewling noise of need when he breaches her, back arching off the mattress, which is damp with sweat and arousal and smells musty. The hormones are still fresh, though, and Rey basks in it, turning her face into the sheets as she tries to push her hips forward onto him just as he pulls back. A helpless huff follows, and she drops her hips back to the bed, looking up at him with doe eyes.
At this angle, her knees spread apart beneath him, it's easy to see just what a mess of damp arousal and leftover cum dripping out of her that her cunt is, what slicks the way for his cock. He's dripping out of her, and she's still aching and squirming for more. ]
Please. [ She moans into the word, tension coiling in her abdomen steadily as his fingers work her. ] You said I'd been good. [ This reasoning feels childish, somehow, and she offers it up anyway. ] I want your cock, Ben.
[He smiles, really smiles when she pleads for him. The smile slips when he repositions himself to press inside in earnest, surprised when there is virtually no resistance. He breathes out heavy, slipping in his efforts to rub at that sensitive area where he'd been guided to.
Driven by pure instinct, he keeps pressing until the closeness of their hips forces him to put a knee on the low bed and shift the angle at which he enters her. It's awkward for him, and he has to guide her leg to hold at his hip, but before long he is back to rubbing near her clit and driving his cock straight downward. They are slow thrusts and their skin slapping with an echo each time he moves.
Sweat starts to bead on his forehead immediately, but he moves with a focus she will no doubt find familiar, singular in its drive and unrelenting.]
[ It shouldn't feel so blindingly good when he first drives home, not with how little direct stimulation she's had since her last climax, but it does. Her whole body comes alive, burning bright. The run-off of his arousal had been feeding her, yes, while she'd swallowed him down, and his spanking had left her sensitive. Even now, the roll of his hips drives her into the bed, and even with her legs wrapped around him, pulling him in, she shudders as the messy sheets brush against her skin.
Rey thinks she might come then, barely touched. Her whole body squeezes around him, and even that doesn't interfere with the smooth glide of his cock inside of her. She doesn't have a chance to recover before he sets the slow, drilling pace that plunges him deeper than he'd been before, somehow. It's perfect. Rey bucks and groans under the brutal consistency of his focus, but at the same time, she glows beneath it. Because it's the only time in her life she can recall anyone being so singularly driven solely for her, to satisfy her.
She can't last. As much as she wants to draw it out, she has been too ready for too long to draw it out, and he isn't teasing anymore. Rey's sounds of pleasure reach a fever pitch and she grabs desperately at his shoulders, trying to cling to him anywhere she can grab. She constricts around him in a sudden pulse, as if her body is trying to hold onto him, keep him anchored inside of her.
When she tips over that precipice, she's thanking him. Babbling gratitude. ]
[She clamps around him and it takes him great effort to keep himself pushing through it. But the weight of her combined with the resistance he meets catches him up to her, and he climbs over the edge before he even sees it coming. Perhaps it is because of all of the abuse he takes -- or perhaps it is the glow of her orgasm on the other side of the bond. He doesn't care to examine it.
But what it does mean is that his orgasm tapers off after her own, and the groan that bubbles out of him is uncontrolled. When he finishes, he collapses heavily on top of her, boneless and soaked in sweat. When he tries to sit up, his shoulders shake, and he can only separate himself enough to press his lips to her's. It's a sloppy thing, full of saliva that he hasn't managed to swallow yet.
When he comes up for air, he mumbles the first thing that comes to his mind.]
[ Another time, she might have been worried about how quickly they'd both finished. The abrupt crescendo isn't exactly the stuff of poetic stories. But the build-up had been so beautiful, strangely intimate and violent all at once, that it never occurs to her. Rey noses into his neck, breathing him in. She can't tell what's sweat and what's cum. The sheets are soaked through from her back, and their chests stick together, skin slipping and sliding.
She wraps her arms around him anyway. It's awful. Smothering, overheated, sweltering. She clings to him anyway, like he's the life preserver and she's trying to keep her head above water, except that she doesn't want to breathe, only feel more of him, always. The uncoordinated kiss, at least, sates some of that. She doesn't have the energy anymore, in the post-orgasm haze, to do more than blindly fumble her lips against his.
No biting. No tongue. Not even gentle sucking. But her nose nudges against his, a hapless gesture when the kiss breaks, and her eyes go wide when he speaks. It shows off how dark her eyes are still, pupils blown. Vulnerable pits that offer a glimpse directly into the deepest, most broken parts of her that fill with his praise.
She decides she's misheard him. To protect herself from him taking it back. Shyly, she buries her nose in his neck then and says: ] It was.
[He picks up on the alteration of what she says. It. He is uncertain of whether that is a deliberate alteration or a misunderstanding, but it leaves a stretch of silence between them while she noses into his neck. He thinks he might just be able to lean into this for a little while -- until the storm passes, at least.
Then he'll have a nice long shower. Maybe she would join him.]
It was. But I said you.
[He shifts, pulling himself out of her when he does. It takes effort for him to climb over her and onto the bed. It isn't long before he tries to tug her along with him.]
this is my late night offering of dark timeline w bonus tainted force bond
[ The Resistance's forces had never recovered from their devastating loss.
Brave souls would rally to their cause. Leia had reassured her of that despite the grim line of her mouth, the shaking in her fingertips, leaving Rey to wonder if the consolation had been aimed toward her or Leia's own method of coping with her life's work falling apart. With each hopeless rejection that came, whittling away at their chances.
No planet was bold enough to ally with them. No government was willing to offer its resources for fear of the First Order's might. Leia's faith had weakened, her resolve dwindling with her health, and Rey had been forced to watch her wither away — a beacon of rebellion reduced to a shell of what she once was. Gone, just like her dream of peace.
They had fought in spite of it — because of it. The losses, Rey told herself, had to matter, could not be in vain.
Until they were. Until the First Order, stalwart and flourishing, had found them. The years could not soften the memory of ash and smoke stinging at her eyes, the copper tang of blood in the air, the strewn bodies across ravaged terrain, the void in the Force that told her the Resistance had been run into extinction. Each night, it projected itself across her mind like a gruesome, inescapable holo.
In the end, she had run. The Last Jedi, the last surviving tie to the Resistance. The last glimmer of hope, if she did not grieve with the weight of what had been taken from her. Returning to her lonely existence once more, worse for how she now knew the taste of companionship.
The Doaba Badlands served as a painful, purposeful reminder of what Kylo Ren had stolen from her. Desolate, barren, as Jakku had been. The people of Soccoro did not blink twice at her, more often than not — unable to recognize her, she thought (how could she fault them when she hardly recognized herself?), from the picture in her bounty. Those that had did not return to their ships with their minds intact, unable to tell stories of the woman that lived beyond the city walls, dwelling in the desert like an exile.
Kylo Ren would not find her here. Three years of survival — because she knew nothing else, because she had not been able to do anything but continue — had assured her of that, no matter how desperate his attempts to locate her had become. No matter the Force poisoning her, infecting her — forcing her to become more sickly with distance, punishing her for her resistance, until even walking into the city without collapsing had become a monumental feat. Maybe, Rey thought bitterly, it would kill them both. A fitting end for them both.
She had nothing else to give him. Nothing else she could, or would, give.
That remained true, even on the day he found her. Time had passed, but Rey could still sense the nearness — vibrating in the threads of the Force like a warning. Gooseflesh seizes her arms, breath wrenched in her lungs, but Rey's pace quickens regardless — pulling at her cloak until her hood obscures her countenance, weaving through the crowd in her haste to wander back into Socorro's wastelands. ]
[Kylo Ren’s bond to the Force could never be called into question at the height of the war. But that had been when all of the threads binding him to it were in tact. With his mother gone and Rey sequestered somewhere far away, Kylo Ren’s power dwindled. No one ever saw, of course — if General Hux ever got wind of it, his reign would end overnight. Nobody was particularly happy with the new Supreme Leader, no more than they were with the previous. But as far as the galaxy knew, he held all the cards. There was no challenging him.
They were wrong, of course. Rey’s distance did not come without consequence. He was still a broad man, but where he had once been muscular, he had atrophied. Now he was simply lean, his eyes sunken and his skin pale. He suspected that, before long, the Dark would sap the last of his strength and he would be left looking just like Snoke had before he’d speared him.
Naturally, when he feels the first brush of their minds, Kylo Ren pursues Rey with a singular focus. He takes a few stormtroopers, in hopes that they will be able to do what he could not.]
I want her alive.
[He spits it feverishly at his troops (who promptly scurry off), desperately clawing on the opposite end of the bond in hopes to recouperate their shared strength before he runs out entirely.]
[ Like a wild animal — starved for too long and made more feral for it — she can sense him pace restlessly at the threshold of their minds. The Force recoils from it, a shrieking klaxon in her mind, even as it tentacles outward toward him. A traitorous parasite, uncertain if it means to restore balance through a peace that has shattered or balance it with their demise.
Rey winces with it, flinches from it. The warmth it promises, pouring back into her, is worse than any ringing in her skull — a special brand of cruelty after all that she has suffered. A reminder of what might have been.
At the very least, it offers her strength to zip through the crowd until there is nowhere to go but endless dunes. It's territory she knows better, a viper in its den. That has to be as much an advantage as the burst of power that surges through her, buzzing through her nerve-endings with an acute awareness. Returned to her, as Kylo Ren has.
She had never asked for either.
Swiveling her gaze over her shoulder, she turns to reach out toward the advancing troopers that have caught her scent. The grit of her snarling teeth is concealed in the dark shadow of her cloak as her fingers curl, all three choking for breath as they struggle, fingers clawing at their armor as if it might allow them to fight for oxygen.
Finn had been among them. There could have been others like him — lost, afraid, unable to know any other life. Now, all she can see is the embodiment of a prison waiting for her, his troops come to steal the only thing she has left in her possession: herself, and the freedom she has secured. ]
[ But it's too late. He slips out of her, and the warmth is lost. Like last time, she can immediately feel the slow start of fluids trickling the curve of her pelvis. Rey rolls over, burrowing into his side, coiling one arm and one leg around his wide body. They're both cooler for this configuration of limbs, but the spots where her skin clings to his remain sticky, dripping new sweat.
The splotchy flush of exertion and arousal covers any pinkening of her face that results from his insistence. Denying the claim seems ungracious, even if he had often criticized her. But thanking him was to accept it as true, and she didn't know how to do that either.
It's tempting to avoid the whole thing by letting sleep take her. She's certainly ready for it. Yoda would be proud. ]
I'm glad you think so. [ That's what she settles on, finally. And to discourage him from pinning her down with it, she says, ] Because I won't be anymore. I'll be misbehaving all of the time if this is where it gets me. Pulling hair, coming to bed with my hair wet ... [ Something closes up her throat, panic telling her to stop talking before she digs herself deeper, because buried in those words is the assumption that they'll go back to how things were. ]
[Kylo’s head snaps like a dog’s when he feels the Force tug him toward his troopers, and he digs deep to increasee the speed at which he runs. By the time he gets there, a crowd has surrounded them, and Rey has taken off. He searches around them wildly, yanking on the tattered remains of the bond despite how it recoils from him violently as causes him to flinch. She has gotten ahead, into the dunes.
He does not stop and wait for the troopers to recover. Instead, he elbows his way through the crowd until he gets to where many of the speeders are parked. The next unfortunate soul that comes to activate their’s is yanked off by the Force so that the Supreme Leader can climb aboard instead. It is then a matter of kicking it into gear and launching into the sand after her with only a broken bond to guide him.
Now that he has left his strike team behind, wrangling her will settle on his shoulders, and he has yet to discover how he might coax her without them. Their strength in the Force was strongest when they were together, but that obviously does not matter to her. To her, it is poison — and maybe in some part, she is right.
But he needs it. And he needs her. So his reckless pursuit continues.]
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