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.
[He loses the ability to hold himself upright when her muscles clench around him, though he desperately tries to hug her close to him, digging his nails into her spine. When he collapses back, she is dragged with him, and his hips jerk one last time as his back hits the mattress. Kylo Ren's breath comes in a soft wheeze when his spend finally stops flowing, his eyes fluttering shut in a moment of vertigo.
But when he opens them again and finds himself staring at Rey, also spent and looking used, he gropes upward for her neck to try and coax her down to his mouth, as if that will somehow keep the momentum going in spite of their exhaustion.]
[ The warm red swell of his lips welcomes her back in, stealing her breath before she can properly catch it. Her legs catch under her, stiff and bent and keeping her crouched atop him instead of comfortably sprawled. It takes several moments of loose, aimless kissing to gather the energy to press her heels downward, to stretch out across him, careful to keep him inside of her as she shifts.
She isn't ready to separate. He's too precious.
Whining, Rey even ruts against him then, searching for something more. She should be sated. Her body is worn out, leg muscles grateful for the reprieve of extension, for respite from the steady flexion of riding him. But it's her chest that tightens, still, bottomless in its hunger for that connection. Desperate to savor the closeness she has with him.
So her teeth scrape lazily at his lip, and her sweaty body continues to writhe ambiently against his, lethargic but intent. The inevitable result, of course, is that he slips out, making a sloppy, slippery messy of them both. ]
[He makes a startled sound against her lips when she slides off of him, and there's a moment where he stiffens when he feels their bodies slide together as what is left over from their coupling smears around their hips and thighs. He can't quite decide what to do with it, and it results in a full body pause --
But, in an uncharacteristic display, Kylo Ren reaches between them to slide his hand across the nest of hair between Rey's legs, curiously probing despite the over-sensitivity he can feel on the opposite end of the bond. Once his fingers are generously coated, he drags them back up, purposefully catching one of her nipples as he goes.
Once his hand is close to their faces, he breaks the kiss to observe the viscous mixture of their fluids in an almost studious manner. And then, in a moment of daring, he lets one pass between his lips. The taste isn't quite what he expects -- but its also not something he'd actively pursue again without proper motivation.]
[ Watching him suck their fluids off his finger stirs her unexpectedly. Watching him savor this, she's less afraid of what might come next. She turns her head. The sticky mixture of his spend and hers has coated two of his fingers, and he has only cleaned one. She cleans the other now: a lewd, indulgent lap of her tongue. The taste is incomparable. Tangy and bitter. It tastes like communion, and makes her feel light. Then she kisses him, her tongue pressing into his mouth. So she can taste it on his lips and he on hers. ]
For what? [ She asks finally, when the kiss breaks. and her forehead is pressed against to his temple, her nose crushed against his cheek with the effort of drawing closer. In the absence of his erection, she's taking every chance she can get.
For the life of her, she can't figure out what he'd offer her gratitude for. Not when this was as much for her as him. If anything, she feels thankful--that he has finally made it possible for her to have this, when she had feared losing it. And now they're lingering in it together, rather than flinching away. ]
[When she asks him that question, he suddenly feels foolish for having vocalized his gratitude. After all, she hadn't really forgiven him for his prior reactions -- not really. It had simply been automatic, expected, even when he knew that he was the one keeping this from her. Anxiety grips his chest for being caught out on his reflex, teeth subconsciously sinking into his lip. His heart starts to beat faster.
But he has to say something, so he offers the truth.]
For permitting -- [No, that's not quite right. What was it that he was afraid of again?] -- you could have refused me. I thought you might. To teach me.
[Because that's how he's always learned, any time he happened to learn.]
She wonders at it for a moment, picks at the feeling of his anxiety in the bond. She can feel his heart pounding out of sync with hers. Not an athletic rhythm—a fearful one. She kisses him again. This time, it's urgent, trying to salvage the calm, to assuage, this one is soft.
She chases it along his jaw. ]
I didn't want to. [ Refuse him, that is. It makes the whole thing sound very simple, even though it's not at all. He'd apologized. He'd declared an intention to do better without making excuses for himself. These things matter. ] I want you to hold onto me instead of your fear.
[ The honesty of it burns her. It gives him the power to turn away from her again, to be left behind. But he's promised her that she's important to him. Over and over again, he has tried to insist it. It is only fair she should let him prove it. ]
[The distraction works wonders to calm him. He is not unlike a child in that way — so blindly seeking validation and acceptance that he leans into what is offered with his whole body. And he does as he is bid, but not for leaning down to clean her chest of the fluid he had left there. He leaves behind a light mark of his teeth upon her breast before leaning back down, wrapping his large arms aroubd hwr to press her body against his.
He has to wriggle his hips some to keep her from crushing his softening cock, now nestled just a few inches below her ruined cunt.]
I know. Sometimes, I am not sure that matters.
[One hand reaches up to comb through her hair.]
I was...taught that sometimes, that is the only way to learn.
[ Her pleasure flutters across the bond, shared with him. It's not just the sensation itself of his teeth and tongue exploring her sensitive breast, but the attention itself, and what it signifies. Rey makes quiet, satisfied sounds in answer, letting her eyes drift shut. This is the Ben Solo she sees, has always seen. Attentive. Curious. Needy and vulnerable too, yes.
She leans her head into his hand, savoring the soft scrape of his nails against her scalp as he carves a clean path through the tangled, sweaty mess of her hair. It tugs. She isn't discouraged, nor does she stop him. ]
I prefer this way of learning. [ Shamelessly put. She settles her head down against his chest then, near the shoulder. And she reaches up with one hand to trace the slope of his neck down over his collarbone and over the curve of his deltoid, idly, possessively. Like she's appraising her newly acquired property. ]
[ Like a contented cat, Rey answers the scratch of his nails with some stretching, though she's careful not to crush any of his soft bits as her hips shift with it. The bond, at least, had communicated his caution. Relaxed and growing gradually sleepier, she offers her most honest answer first: ]
I don't want to punish you, Ben.
[ Because she doesn't. That's of no interest to her. She wants him to improve; she doesn't take joy in the process to get there. But something nags at the edge of her awareness, that maybe it's not what he means, and her eyes open back up. The bond prickles with her heightened scrutiny. Like she's waking back up. ]
Do you ... ? [ She isn't sure which question to ask: does he want her to, or does he want to be the arbiter of it? He had, after all, offered to teach her a number of times, and apparently this was his method. ]
[Kylo Ren wets his lips, dodging the look she gives him when she asks. The shame goes to the tips of his ears, turning them red. She doesn't need to say it -- even if they hadn't just had sex, the bond is open between them. He can understand that she doesn't know which question to ask. Fortunately, the answer to both is the same.]
Only...if you wanted to try.
[But something is already stirring in his belly. She will no doubt feel him getting warm with it again.]
[ This, certainly, is what Poe and Loki and Finn and Keith would call twisted. But Rey watches his tongue press out, watches the color reach his ears where sweat has mussed his hair away from them. The uptick of his heart as his blood warms with the insinuation.
On its own the notion holds some appeal. But more than anything else, she responds to the vulnerability he exposes in offering this. He isn't afraid of her anymore. At least, he isn't afraid of revealing himself to her. His wants and needs. Something clenches and releases inside of her. ]
Teach me.
[ Her mouth feels a little dry. She wants to give this to him in whatever way he needs it. But she needs a guiding hand, first. ]
[That answer surprises him some. He pushes her upwards off of his chest so that he can look her in the eyes. His ears are still red. It's moved to the high points of his cheekbones. His pupils are blown again, and he is searching her.
She had said she didn't want to. But she was offering.]
Are you sure? You--we don't have to.
[The anxiety comes back. It is not as strong as before, but he knows well of what Rey thinks of Kylo Ren and Ben Solo.]
[ Stubbornly put, with just a hint of panic as she sits up more fully on him, feeling rebuffed by the space he puts between them. He's reddening, and she can feel the hunger opening up in him, chasing the offer, but instead of succumbing to it, he's — He's trying to give her a way out.
Rey's frown deepens. ]
Stop that. [ 'Just stop being anxious,' Rey says convincingly, curing all of Kylo Ren's mental illnesses with the power of gumption and her light side vagina. ] I said I want to try. [ He'd shared something with her, here. She doesn't intend to let it flounder and die. And anyway, it would be a lie to say that the prospect didn't excite her on its own. Something rough and firm. It's just unfamiliar. ]
I've never -- I don't know what I'm doing. [ That's all. All of her punishments have been natural consequences or from Unkar Plutt's closed fist. ] Show me. [ She doubles down: ] Punish me. [ Then, maybe she would know what to try to extend to him. ]
[This would be a good instruction. The way she issues that command makes something in his cock twitch. She would be a natural at this, if he steered her the right way. But now that he's been tasked with it--
It feels wrong to want to pursue it this way. He knows what he wants, and he knows how to get it. But it involves something Ben Solo isn't capable of. Something that Kylo Ren is.
And as much as he argues that they are the same person, a part of him must switch off to allow that sort of engagement.
Stop that, echoes in his head again, and the switch flicks off. But not before he kisses her one last time.]
Alright.
[It takes considerable effort to gather his strength to lift her off of him so that he can sit up. There is a bass quality to his voice that had not been there previously.]
Get on your knees. Here.
[He swings his legs over the side of the bed, spreading his legs and pointing between them. As much as he knows what he wants, this is not something he has done before either, and he does not know how to prepare her. So he just launches into what first comes to his mind.]
[ Rey savors that kiss. Its gentleness. Its warmth. He gives it willingly, and so easily now. She's still getting used to that, to the idea that she wouldn't need to ply every intimacy out of him. So she lingers in it too long even after he moves her aside to shift his own position. She sprawls out as if he were still there, sucking on her lower lip and humming under her breath.
Then, the sound of his voice makes her body tense, and her eyes snap open. She would be a fool to miss the shift in him. She is twice the fool, because somehow the implicit danger it suggests excites her. ]
Here?
[ She slides off the edge of the bed fully, settling on her knees in front of him, her hands planted on his bare thighs. The grip provides a steadiness which offsets only some of the strain of her muscles, which are still weak from working in this position to ride him. The fatigue has set in, making her own thighs tremble with the effort of holding her at certain angles of flexion.
A thin undercurrent of fear runs through her. Will it hurt? Will he be cruel? Will he stop, if she asks it? She chooses to set them all aside and trust him, and that alone feels good. Unfamiliar, difficult, but relieving. ]
[Kylo Ren has to take a moment and assess his own fatigue. He can feel a heavy weight in his back that needs addressing, and the bones of his hips feel oddly numb now that he's sitting upright. So he is forced to lean on one hand some, pushing his long, sweat soaked black hair out of his eyes with the other so that he can watch her.]
We're not going to get very far like this.
[One hand slides up to his cock, purposefully pulling it upward into his hand to offer its length to her.]
Go on. Take it. In your mouth.
[Hopefully it won't be too obvious that he is feeling this out as he goes.]
[ She can see the evidence of their coupling slick and sticky along his cock and his hand as he holds himself, urging her to it. Reaching out, she slips her hand up over the shaft to replace his, taking him in her grip. He's not as solid as he was. Smaller, too. But she isn't dissuaded by it. In fact, ]
This is your idea of punishment?
[ Offered gently, with the warmth of good humor and a sly eagerness that she has made little effort to disguise. It would not surprise her to know that Ben had not realized, somehow, that she would gladly do this for him. That she would savor the taste of his skin and the sounds and expressions that he made.
To further her point, she sets promptly about her obvious task. She starts with her tongue, laving up the side of him, lapping away the bitter traces of their cum. This she does to the tune of satisfied noises, like she is grateful for the taste. When she has made passable work of that, she does close her lips around the head. But dehydration makes her lips somewhat dry, and it takes some deliberate slurping at his skin to work up enough slick that she can take more of him in. ]
[Cryptically, Kylo Ren does not answer Rey's question, though the bond will no doubt answer it for her. No, this was not the punishment. He needed time to work himself up again -- it would no doubt not take long, given how he watches her through half hooded eyes.
Once he starts to become hard again, one hand snakes its way through her hair and starts to regulate the pace over his cock. The grip is not particularly gentle. Resistance causes him to tighten his grip on her hair, and relax whenever she gives over the control to him.]
Rey hasn't done this before, and as his cock gets firmer, it fills her mouth more, demands more attention. Not only that, but the pace he sets is not the one she would keep herself. It requires attention. Consideration. The result of the first glance she hazards up at him results in her choking on taking him too deep, and she gags, trying hard to pull back against the pull of his hand.
But he keeps her on him. And she has to catch her breath with just less of his cock in her mouth, not an empty mouth. It's a lot like learning to swim. Catching her breath at the right moments, and letting the waves take her when they take her. Still, so close to choking as she is, she's less careful, unskilled in how to keep her teeth from catching.
But she strains to get her eyes back up towards him anyway, a whimpering sound low in the back of her throat. Overwhelmed. Something shines behind her gaze. It's earnest and bright and not resentful in the slightest of the hand he takes to control her. Because she has allowed him this. Rather than anxiety, resolve floods the bond, and her fingers dig into his thighs, a solid grip. ]
[Every now and then he squeezes a bit too tight when her teeth catch, hissing softly as quiet as he can manage. But around the third time, he pulls her all the way off and pulls her up a little by her hair.]
Relax your jaw.
[He waits for her to do as he bids before relaxing his grip and positioning himself to slip back into her mouth, waving her working hand away, coaxing them down to his thighs instead. He tests two slow and deep thrusts into her mouth to see if she's gotten the idea.]
[ 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.]
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But when he opens them again and finds himself staring at Rey, also spent and looking used, he gropes upward for her neck to try and coax her down to his mouth, as if that will somehow keep the momentum going in spite of their exhaustion.]
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She isn't ready to separate. He's too precious.
Whining, Rey even ruts against him then, searching for something more. She should be sated. Her body is worn out, leg muscles grateful for the reprieve of extension, for respite from the steady flexion of riding him. But it's her chest that tightens, still, bottomless in its hunger for that connection. Desperate to savor the closeness she has with him.
So her teeth scrape lazily at his lip, and her sweaty body continues to writhe ambiently against his, lethargic but intent. The inevitable result, of course, is that he slips out, making a sloppy, slippery messy of them both. ]
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But, in an uncharacteristic display, Kylo Ren reaches between them to slide his hand across the nest of hair between Rey's legs, curiously probing despite the over-sensitivity he can feel on the opposite end of the bond. Once his fingers are generously coated, he drags them back up, purposefully catching one of her nipples as he goes.
Once his hand is close to their faces, he breaks the kiss to observe the viscous mixture of their fluids in an almost studious manner. And then, in a moment of daring, he lets one pass between his lips. The taste isn't quite what he expects -- but its also not something he'd actively pursue again without proper motivation.]
Thank you.
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For what? [ She asks finally, when the kiss breaks. and her forehead is pressed against to his temple, her nose crushed against his cheek with the effort of drawing closer. In the absence of his erection, she's taking every chance she can get.
For the life of her, she can't figure out what he'd offer her gratitude for. Not when this was as much for her as him. If anything, she feels thankful--that he has finally made it possible for her to have this, when she had feared losing it. And now they're lingering in it together, rather than flinching away. ]
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But he has to say something, so he offers the truth.]
For permitting -- [No, that's not quite right. What was it that he was afraid of again?] -- you could have refused me. I thought you might. To teach me.
[Because that's how he's always learned, any time he happened to learn.]
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She wonders at it for a moment, picks at the feeling of his anxiety in the bond. She can feel his heart pounding out of sync with hers. Not an athletic rhythm—a fearful one. She kisses him again. This time, it's urgent, trying to salvage the calm, to assuage, this one is soft.
She chases it along his jaw. ]
I didn't want to. [ Refuse him, that is. It makes the whole thing sound very simple, even though it's not at all. He'd apologized. He'd declared an intention to do better without making excuses for himself. These things matter. ] I want you to hold onto me instead of your fear.
[ The honesty of it burns her. It gives him the power to turn away from her again, to be left behind. But he's promised her that she's important to him. Over and over again, he has tried to insist it. It is only fair she should let him prove it. ]
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He has to wriggle his hips some to keep her from crushing his softening cock, now nestled just a few inches below her ruined cunt.]
I know. Sometimes, I am not sure that matters.
[One hand reaches up to comb through her hair.]
I was...taught that sometimes, that is the only way to learn.
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She leans her head into his hand, savoring the soft scrape of his nails against her scalp as he carves a clean path through the tangled, sweaty mess of her hair. It tugs. She isn't discouraged, nor does she stop him. ]
I prefer this way of learning. [ Shamelessly put. She settles her head down against his chest then, near the shoulder. And she reaches up with one hand to trace the slope of his neck down over his collarbone and over the curve of his deltoid, idly, possessively. Like she's appraising her newly acquired property. ]
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I think I do too.
[One of his own large hand begins a quest down her back slow, and adding nails as he goes.]
...punishment isn't always so bad, you know. It can be a good teacher.
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I don't want to punish you, Ben.
[ Because she doesn't. That's of no interest to her. She wants him to improve; she doesn't take joy in the process to get there. But something nags at the edge of her awareness, that maybe it's not what he means, and her eyes open back up. The bond prickles with her heightened scrutiny. Like she's waking back up. ]
Do you ... ? [ She isn't sure which question to ask: does he want her to, or does he want to be the arbiter of it? He had, after all, offered to teach her a number of times, and apparently this was his method. ]
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Only...if you wanted to try.
[But something is already stirring in his belly. She will no doubt feel him getting warm with it again.]
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On its own the notion holds some appeal. But more than anything else, she responds to the vulnerability he exposes in offering this. He isn't afraid of her anymore. At least, he isn't afraid of revealing himself to her. His wants and needs. Something clenches and releases inside of her. ]
Teach me.
[ Her mouth feels a little dry. She wants to give this to him in whatever way he needs it. But she needs a guiding hand, first. ]
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She had said she didn't want to. But she was offering.]
Are you sure? You--we don't have to.
[The anxiety comes back. It is not as strong as before, but he knows well of what Rey thinks of Kylo Ren and Ben Solo.]
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[ Stubbornly put, with just a hint of panic as she sits up more fully on him, feeling rebuffed by the space he puts between them. He's reddening, and she can feel the hunger opening up in him, chasing the offer, but instead of succumbing to it, he's — He's trying to give her a way out.
Rey's frown deepens. ]
Stop that. [ 'Just stop being anxious,' Rey says convincingly, curing all of Kylo Ren's mental illnesses with the power of gumption and her light side vagina. ] I said I want to try. [ He'd shared something with her, here. She doesn't intend to let it flounder and die. And anyway, it would be a lie to say that the prospect didn't excite her on its own. Something rough and firm. It's just unfamiliar. ]
I've never -- I don't know what I'm doing. [ That's all. All of her punishments have been natural consequences or from Unkar Plutt's closed fist. ] Show me. [ She doubles down: ] Punish me. [ Then, maybe she would know what to try to extend to him. ]
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It feels wrong to want to pursue it this way. He knows what he wants, and he knows how to get it. But it involves something Ben Solo isn't capable of. Something that Kylo Ren is.
And as much as he argues that they are the same person, a part of him must switch off to allow that sort of engagement.
Stop that, echoes in his head again, and the switch flicks off. But not before he kisses her one last time.]
Alright.
[It takes considerable effort to gather his strength to lift her off of him so that he can sit up. There is a bass quality to his voice that had not been there previously.]
Get on your knees. Here.
[He swings his legs over the side of the bed, spreading his legs and pointing between them. As much as he knows what he wants, this is not something he has done before either, and he does not know how to prepare her. So he just launches into what first comes to his mind.]
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Then, the sound of his voice makes her body tense, and her eyes snap open. She would be a fool to miss the shift in him. She is twice the fool, because somehow the implicit danger it suggests excites her. ]
Here?
[ She slides off the edge of the bed fully, settling on her knees in front of him, her hands planted on his bare thighs. The grip provides a steadiness which offsets only some of the strain of her muscles, which are still weak from working in this position to ride him. The fatigue has set in, making her own thighs tremble with the effort of holding her at certain angles of flexion.
A thin undercurrent of fear runs through her. Will it hurt? Will he be cruel? Will he stop, if she asks it? She chooses to set them all aside and trust him, and that alone feels good. Unfamiliar, difficult, but relieving. ]
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[Kylo Ren has to take a moment and assess his own fatigue. He can feel a heavy weight in his back that needs addressing, and the bones of his hips feel oddly numb now that he's sitting upright. So he is forced to lean on one hand some, pushing his long, sweat soaked black hair out of his eyes with the other so that he can watch her.]
We're not going to get very far like this.
[One hand slides up to his cock, purposefully pulling it upward into his hand to offer its length to her.]
Go on. Take it. In your mouth.
[Hopefully it won't be too obvious that he is feeling this out as he goes.]
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This is your idea of punishment?
[ Offered gently, with the warmth of good humor and a sly eagerness that she has made little effort to disguise. It would not surprise her to know that Ben had not realized, somehow, that she would gladly do this for him. That she would savor the taste of his skin and the sounds and expressions that he made.
To further her point, she sets promptly about her obvious task. She starts with her tongue, laving up the side of him, lapping away the bitter traces of their cum. This she does to the tune of satisfied noises, like she is grateful for the taste. When she has made passable work of that, she does close her lips around the head. But dehydration makes her lips somewhat dry, and it takes some deliberate slurping at his skin to work up enough slick that she can take more of him in. ]
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Once he starts to become hard again, one hand snakes its way through her hair and starts to regulate the pace over his cock. The grip is not particularly gentle. Resistance causes him to tighten his grip on her hair, and relax whenever she gives over the control to him.]
Don't look at my cock. Look at me.
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Rey hasn't done this before, and as his cock gets firmer, it fills her mouth more, demands more attention. Not only that, but the pace he sets is not the one she would keep herself. It requires attention. Consideration. The result of the first glance she hazards up at him results in her choking on taking him too deep, and she gags, trying hard to pull back against the pull of his hand.
But he keeps her on him. And she has to catch her breath with just less of his cock in her mouth, not an empty mouth. It's a lot like learning to swim. Catching her breath at the right moments, and letting the waves take her when they take her. Still, so close to choking as she is, she's less careful, unskilled in how to keep her teeth from catching.
But she strains to get her eyes back up towards him anyway, a whimpering sound low in the back of her throat. Overwhelmed. Something shines behind her gaze. It's earnest and bright and not resentful in the slightest of the hand he takes to control her. Because she has allowed him this. Rather than anxiety, resolve floods the bond, and her fingers dig into his thighs, a solid grip. ]
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[Every now and then he squeezes a bit too tight when her teeth catch, hissing softly as quiet as he can manage. But around the third time, he pulls her all the way off and pulls her up a little by her hair.]
Relax your jaw.
[He waits for her to do as he bids before relaxing his grip and positioning himself to slip back into her mouth, waving her working hand away, coaxing them down to his thighs instead. He tests two slow and deep thrusts into her mouth to see if she's gotten the idea.]
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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. ]
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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.]
Now. Do it again.
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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. ]
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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.]
Use your hands now.
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