[ Some part of her is surprised by his ready compliance. Oh, the shame is there. He's humiliated by his own eager surrender; it churns in the bond, eating away at it like an acid. But he gives himself over to it anyway. Desperate, maybe; it doesn't take a deep delve into his mind to recognize how unsatisfying his efforts to fulfill these needs elsewhere have been.
But more likely than desperation is a reluctant, begrudging acceptance of how natural this state is for him. Surrendering himself to another's will. She's not so self-loathing as to consider herself remotely akin to Snoke — rather, the fact that she will care for him, treat him tenderly, these are the things that salve the wounds Snoke had left in him.
That's what he wants so badly that it makes him willing to bend with only brief protest.
She reaches out, her touch gentle as she pulls his hair back out of his face to get a better look at him like this. There's something loving in that gesture, affectionate and patient despite the thrumming need that runs through the tether holding them here. ]
Trust me.
[ His surrender has opened the bond wider, and with it dilated like this, she is afforded a blurry picture of his surroundings. Sharper the closer they are to his body. She takes the bottle, clear and present as if it were here in the rusted out Rebel base with her, and pours generously into her hand. It's cold enough to deliver a shock, and her body heat only warms it a little before she smears it down the pale curve of his ass. ]
no subject
But more likely than desperation is a reluctant, begrudging acceptance of how natural this state is for him. Surrendering himself to another's will. She's not so self-loathing as to consider herself remotely akin to Snoke — rather, the fact that she will care for him, treat him tenderly, these are the things that salve the wounds Snoke had left in him.
That's what he wants so badly that it makes him willing to bend with only brief protest.
She reaches out, her touch gentle as she pulls his hair back out of his face to get a better look at him like this. There's something loving in that gesture, affectionate and patient despite the thrumming need that runs through the tether holding them here. ]
Trust me.
[ His surrender has opened the bond wider, and with it dilated like this, she is afforded a blurry picture of his surroundings. Sharper the closer they are to his body. She takes the bottle, clear and present as if it were here in the rusted out Rebel base with her, and pours generously into her hand. It's cold enough to deliver a shock, and her body heat only warms it a little before she smears it down the pale curve of his ass. ]